#including energy for. getting ready for bed or talking to my loved ones or masking or just going on a WALK | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

gloryofluv · 3 years

Note

How do you think the brothers would react to walking into MC’s room after looking for them to find them lying on bed, headphones in with a full face mask on? I’m talking cucumber slices on the eyes the whole deal. (Obviously Beel is gonna eat the cucumber but hey 😅)

Ah, thanks anon for a fun one! Self care is soooo important! Makes me want to go do a face mask now. Especially if my favorite boys are going to be there.

The Brothers Walking in on MC Enjoying a Face Mask and Self Care

Lucifer-

Busy demon boy. He knocks but is a bit concerned when he doesn’t hear an answer. Actually, a bit perturbed, if we’re honest! (Solely believes you should definitely answer him at whatever time he spends the time to do a welfare check)

Stops at the door when he sees MC lounging on their bed. Amused. Amusement turns to warm fuzzies. There they are, the affliction of his wounded heart, relaxing and listening to music, completely oblivious to watchful eyes.

The face mask even adds a pleasant smell to the room. Well, well, aren’t they a gorgeous, flawed mess? Won’t admit to wanting to encourage this in his personal space. Most certainly won’t confess to wanting to slurp up the peaceful energy of said self-care either.

Instead, he slips into the kitchen, being positive to not being seen. He prepares a relaxing herbal tea that always refreshes him on the off chance of a moment of peace. Once that is brewed to perfection, he will, with deadly silence, sneak into MC’s room and set the cup down.

They manage to peel the cucumbers off just before watching his silent escape. The warm tea is steaming next to them on the night table.

Cute. Stalkery, but cute.

"I enjoy thoroughly that you don't need to be instructed to take care of yourself."

Mammon-

Never knocks. Don’t expect it now. Even after he heard Asmo gave MC an excellent something or other to have some personal time. MC’s time is his time.

He barges into the room with his usual bravado, to note that MC hadn’t even commented. He glances over to see this goopy mess with cucumbers and a towel around their hair. Ugh. Asmo has them into that stupid self-care crap he’s been shoving!

Pouty boy. Wants attention and their attention to be real. He slumps on the bed and removes a cucumber from MC’s eyes. Starts talking regardless of if MC can hear. Then blames MC for not paying attention when they take off their headphones.

Starts a nonsense conversation. Doesn’t care about the topic, but he will continue it as long as MC gives him attention. Will be a blushing mess if MC asks if he wants them to do a mask for him.

Mammon snorts and deflects about that being Asmo’s thing. However, if MC offers to do the whole pampering effect that comes with the face mask… well, he might, ya know, be alright, maybe? Blushy blushy mess.

MC kisses his cheek, and he’s done for, even if he jumps up and spits out about it being gross and crackly from the mask. Has to leave. Cuteness overload. Poor baby boi doesn’t know how to handle soft feelings so well.

“Yeah, well, I gotta go. Maybe when you clean that crap off, you can come to my room. We’ll do something, ya know, together?”

Levi-

Knocks twice. Pissed MC didn’t answer. Glances in and blinks. Oh, they looked so peaceful. Is that the Rui-chan plushie he gave them? Oh, MC is tugging at his heart like an anime trope!

Slides inside and debates on bothering them. Just wants to admire MC a moment while he’s blushing and his brain is sputtering. MC had the plushie against their chest while relaxing on the bed.

Fiddles with his fingers and knows he should leave but likes this. A lot. Wants no one else to bother them. This moment is his. Cute. MC is a cute, adorable anime story waiting to be told. The only thing missing…

MC shifts and peels off a cucumber to reach for the boba tea he bought them earlier. Cue, nervous, mortified otaku!

However, MC doesn’t get upset and waves before taking off their headphones. They say they were just enjoying the TSL soundtrack. Even more blushing??! He can’t handle it and covers his face.

Sputtering about some streaming he needed to do, he tells them not to forget to meet him after dinner for their friendship dailies! Runs, not walks, out of the room.

Clutches his heart the whole way up the stairs and even hides his face from Mammon as he passes him on the stairs. It was just like that anime. I fell in love with a witch, and she didn’t even realize it because I can’t speak. The scene was remarkably similar.

“Ah, yeah, well, I just wanted t-to be sure you’re still coming t-tonight. You are right? I mean, I don’t want to bother you with it, y-yeah?”

Satan-

Knocks three times. Patiently waits. Until he’s not patient. Not happy to be ignored without even a response as to why MC isn’t answering.

Opens the door to see MC on their bed in a face mask. Aww, that’s cute. He likes cute things, and MC is equated to a cat sunbathing in a window. Walks over and touches MC’s shoulder.

MC jerks, but as the cucumber is removed, they smile and pat the bed. He is so pleased. Sitting down toward the center of the mattress, he assists MC to relax against his lap. Without removing their headphones, they comply.

He then opens his book and begins to read while removing the towel around MC’s hair. Ah, yes, this was peaceful and relaxing in so many ways. He was able to stroke MC’s hair and read with them while they indulged in self-care.

Perfection. He even offers to help them clean their face. Sweet little nerd. Knows why self-care is so important and relishes that MC doesn't mind his presence while doing so.

“I know you can’t hear me, but I thoroughly enjoy it when you take care of yourself. It makes me want to take care of you more.”

Asmo-

Barges in. Knows exactly what they're doing when he sees MC. Actually, knows it’s a great idea and skips up to his bathroom for his face mask! Has it prepped and ready to go with his own set of cucumbers.

Races into the room and tucks onto the bed next to MC. They remove the cucumbers and smile with a nod before taking off their headphones. He is so happy! Place the cucumbers on his own eyes.

Talk. Real talk, honey. Will go on about his Devilgram, what he saw at RAD, and even his brothers. All of it is light and airy. No bitching in a pamper session. This is all about that dopamine and good feels.

Insists that they continue with this pamper session with massages and manicures. Won’t mind at all if MC says they want to start doing this weekly. He is there, baby!

It becomes routine, and no one is going to disturb them! Encourages MC to try different masks and will be the guru of making them look as great as they make him feel! Expect cuddles and lots of kisses after the mask comes off!

“Oh! I’m so happy you want to do this! If we can do a whole session instead of just the mask, I will make you feel almost as great as I look!”

Beel-

Hungry boi. Wants to invite MC out for a snack, but no answer to his knocking? Are they alright? He saw them go into their room earlier.

He walks in to see MC on the bed, headphones on, and a mud mask? That’s what Asmo calls them, right? It smells waaaay too good to be mud. Walks over and eyes MC with confused interest.

Had no idea they liked putting food on their face. Food. Sits down on the bed and grabs one of the cucumbers. Tastes just like the sweetness of MC and food. Loves it.

MC smiles and hands him the other before taking off their headphones. Happy boi asks what they’re doing. They answer with a simple answer of self-care. The long day at RAD made them feel tired.

Asks if the mask is edible, to which MC replies and laughing negative. Oh, that makes no sense. It smells good. They offer to do a mask for him but doubt he’d be able to not eat it.

He laughs and nods before asking if they were almost done. He now has a craving for ice cream and maybe a half-dozen of burgers. MC sits up and kisses his cheek before nodding.

He is glowing with happiness and kisses their masked cheek. Unfortunately, he couldn’t help it and licks their face. Definitely doesn’t taste as great as it smells. MC laughs and pats his shoulder, saying they’ll be out in a few minutes so they can get a snack.

“You always taste good, but that mud doesn’t. You still look cute.”

Belphie-

Not a knocker. Doesn’t care to knock. MC is his human, and love knows no bounds. That includes doors.

Walks in to see MC on the bed with headphones and a mask. Cute. Adorable. Cuddly. Now his whole plan of going to the attic is out the window.

Slumps on the bed and buries his face in MC’s chest. Looks up to see they peel a cucumber off to see it’s him and smiles. Thump. Thump. His heart is growing by the second.

MC sighs and starts running their fingers through his hair after placing the cucumber back on their eye. Happy, sleepy boi. Cuddles closer and nuzzles with the equivalent of a sadistic sleepy cat.

MC has to beg him to let them go so they can remove it. He pouts and waits for them to return, only to entrap them in his arms and claim they smell too good to let go, and they feel so peaceful. Time for a nap.

“I love that you smell so wonderful and refreshing. Next time tell me when you’re going to do this so I can enjoy the whole thing.”

#obey me fandom #om! headcanons #obey me headcanons #obey me lucifer #obey me mammon #obey me leviathan #obey me satan #obey me asmodeus #obey me beelzebub #obey me belphie #obey me fluff

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hwrryscherry · 3 years

Text

The one where Harry and Model Y/N go undercover in the internet

characters: HARRYxMODELY/N

blurb: Harry and Model Y/N go undercover on the internet with fake accounts on TikTok and Instagram for an interview for GQ magazine on a video pre Grammys.

word count: 3.3K

HARRYxMODELY/N masterlist

author's note: HI GUYS! This is a request that I received a while ago but only finished it now because of school and all that stuff that I've told y'all a million times. Anyway, I tried my best on this request cause I think I lost my way of writing a little lol but anyway, I hope you like it and I hope that for the ones who misses Harry and Model Y/N this can be a great gift. Love y'all and thank you for the constant support and love on them💜 Stay Safe and Always remember to tpwk and that you're so golden💜💜💜

It was about 3 pm when you and Harry naturally came into the studio set on the building of GQ magazine with tender smiles on your faces covered by masks as you greeted everybody in the room in which there wasn’t many people in it. Harry was dressed in one of the many Gucci shirts he owned, with freshly washed hair that made you smell his pleasant scent from inches away just because he was wearing your favoured one and you'd always recognize it. You also detected the many rings on his fingers, including the one that you had bought for him as a 27th birthday present and by god, he was so thrilled about the ring and had a big smile on his face all day so he felt like he wanted to use it every day. Oh and how good his birthday was. You weren't able to have a party, obviously, but you still managed to celebrate somehow. In the morning, you gave him his favorite breakfast and then he, Gemma and Anne stayed on a zoom call for about an hour. You bought some yellow balloons to put in the living room just to give that birthday vibe and during the night, you had no more than four friends in your LA house, all properly protected and saved. You just ordered a few pizzas and watched some of Harry's favorite movies. It was simple but with an incredible energy, receiving a tiny group around while doing something y'all liked was everything Harry wanted most, mainly because he would have to wake up early the next day to go to the set of "Don't Worry Darling." as they were about to finish filming.

But today was another day. In earlier Febraury, the GQ magazine team reached out to your businessmen with the proposal that you and Harry would record a video together answering questions about your relationship to be published before the Grammys and after you consider whether it would be the best thing to do or not because of the many reactions you could get from it, you both agreed to do it. You’d always try to consider every little possibility when it comes to your and Harry’s relationship as the media can be very mean and disrepecftul.

Instead of Harry, you had a black miniskirt, long sleeve white blouse and a small black blazer with your Fendi plaid boots, which was Harry's personal choice for today as you’ve told him that he could chose an outfit for you to wear. You two spent a few minutes in the makeup chair doing touch-ups on your hair and makeup right before you were both ready to shoot. You walked from the makeup table to the center of the studio where you could see the crew behind the cameras and the big white background with a table and two black chairs right in the center. The table had a computer upon it only. After sitting down and having the microphones popped at you, you looked up when you heard the directors asking if you were ready and when you nod and the count is over, the camera started recording.

‘‘Hi, I'm Harry Styles!'’ You greeted the camera with a big smile on your face, eliciting a laugh from Harry about your unexpected "joke.". Honestly, today was a good day for both of you where you were both in an extremely good mood. Unlike the other days where you were quarantined, you were emotionally untired and in the mood to film and have a small social interaction, which is rare.

‘’And I'm Y/N Y/L/N!'’ Harry said joining in the joke with you and then looking at you as he waited for you to say the rest of the introductory phrase but only realizing you were smiling at the camera without saying anything. '’Y/N!'’ Harry called calmly causing you to turn your head to face him and realize he wanted you to continue instead of continuing himself.

'’Oh sorry, I thought you were going to continue'’ You whispered conspiratorially to him before taking a deep breath and resting your hands on the table when you returned your gaze to the camera. ‘’And we’re gonna go undercover on the internet today!!’’

‘’Yeah, I'm scared!'’ Harry said when opening the laptop that was over the table and turning it on. You sat back in your chair so that you could see the laptop screen clearly and smirked a little when you heard your boyfriend's words.

‘’Hm... Let's do TikTok!'’ Harry said after a few seconds in silence while thinking. Harry's words made you chuckle his words because you knew that Harry doesn't comprehend anything about TikTok and didn't have an account but you both would usually find yourselves in bed watching tiktoks for hours. '’Which username should we put in?'’, Harry asked without taking his eyes off the screen.

‘’You should be! I’ll expose all of your deepest secrets in this video'’ You said while raising your eyebrows in a playful way eliciting a laugh from Harry, one by the way, that he tried hard to sound a little desperate for people watching '’Alright, what should we do first?’’

‘’Put ‘’simp4harry’’ !" You said with a smirk on your lips as Harry let out a nasal laugh but put that username either way.

‘’Okay, but how did you think of that username so fast? I think it’s very creative'’ Harry asked as he finished creating the account.

‘’It's the username I put on everything!'’ You answered as you ran your right hand through your hair.

‘’Oh yes? So is this your Only Fans username?'’ Harry mockingly asked making you laugh and take your eyes off the screen and look at his face.

‘’No, I don't even have an account on Only Fans, for God's sake Styles'’. You answered as mockingly as he did, '’Why? You have one?'’ You asked calmly.

‘’No, I'm a one-woman man!'’ Harry said to cause you to smile convincingly.

'’Can someone get me a bottle of water, please?'’ You asked gently for the people who were on the set and smiled thanking the person who brought you.

‘’Thank you!'’ You answered sounding a little bit shy, even though you’re a public person and listen to compliments quite often, you still don’t know how to react to them. You took a deep breath and raised your eyebrows before using your finger to point to the laptop screen as he opened your tiktok account, ‘’I mean, I don’t even know why I’d be one of the best ones to follow since all I post on tiktok is unnecessary and stupid things that goes through my mind during the day.’’

‘’So inconvenient!'’ Harry whispered playfully. You two had this habit of being sassy to each other, and everyone around you was used to it. This craze started because the first time you guys hang out together in Shanghai, you just talked like you’ve known each other for years and not just five hours.

'’I didn't drink water today, do you want me to be thirsty? I thought you loved me!'’ You used a dramatic tone when speaking before drinking a sip of water.

‘’I did!'’ Harry replied in a low tone finishing logging in the TikTok feed.

‘’What do you mean ''you did''?'’ You answered in a loud tone holding the laugh with Harry.

‘’Okay, focus on TikTok! Focus on TikTok!'’ Harry said with a laugh as you now brought his attention to the screen as well, ‘’Hm, let's look at my girl's account!'’, Harry said as he typed your tiktok username in the search bar. You took a sip of the water in the bottle and put it on the table, ‘’AND by the way, do you guys know that this woman over here was listed by The Cut as one of the best tiktokers to follow today? And I’m so proud’’

‘’Well, I love how you appreciate your talents, love!'’ Harry replied sarcastically with a smirk on his lips making you chuckle. He didn't like it very much when you belittled something you did, even if it was something that was really bad, he didn't like it. Not just with you though, but with all the people in the world. Harry doesn't like it when people don't recognize their worth.

‘’Ok, here’s the first one! I’ll be reacting to it!'’ Harry spoke in a playful tone while clicking on the video as he knew very well it was not a react video but to answer questions. Harry clicked on the first video, this time you were propped up with your face close to the camera with folded arms dubbed to the sound that was in the background. You then take the transparent glasses pulled over the beige in a matter of color that was in front of you on the table and put them under your eyes never failing to dub the song. Then you move away from the camera and can see you are wearing leggings and a sweatshirt. And then you take your Louis Vuitton Coussin PM silver bag and place it on your shoulder before the video ends ‘’Alright, so on this video you don’t do anything else than mimicking to the song.’’

‘’No, but like, seriously!'’ You complemented. '’We’ll watch some of them, and you’ll see how silly they are!

‘’I know that’s why I said that it stupid!'’ You exclaimed as you crossed your arms on the table. ‘’Let’s see the comments'’ You, yourself clicked on the comments area with your hand before Harry did and observed as comments poped up.

‘’Ok so the user @username1 asked ‘’How does it feel being the coolest person ever’’, tell me Y/N, how does it feel like?'’ Harry asked with a smirk to you as he turned his head to encounter your face with raised eyebrows.

‘’Oh, it feels so nice!'’ You responded in a playful tone causing both of you to laugh at your conviction, even though you knew it was a teasing tone and not narcissistic ‘’Everybody knows I’m like, the coolest person alive so...'’ You convincingly said running your hand through a few strands of your hair and then take a deep breath and put a lock of hair behind your ear. ‘’No, I’m just kidding. I’m not cool everyday, honestly there are days that I’m the most annoying person ever so I definetely have my good and bad days.’’

‘’Oh and those annoying moments'’ Harry said in an ironic tone, letting out a dramatic sigh causing you to frown and slightly open your mouth as an offense while holding your laughter as you exclaimed a loud '' excuse me?’‘ as an answer. Harry returned his attention to the comments on the screen again and frowned and brought his face slightly closer to the screen to read ‘’Okay so @username2 asked ‘’new trend: are you engaged?’’. No guys are not. We’ve never been engaged.’’

‘’I feel like we’ve been engaged since 2017!'’ You said sarcastically remembering all the rumors about engagement, babies and dating. Since the first time you has met there were rumors, thousands of them, all the time but you and Harry chose not to comment on them as it would just be a big waste of time.

‘’Exactly and we weren’t even dating in 2017!'’ Harry complemented by looking away from the camera at his nodded face. '’But anyway...’’ Harry said taking a deep breath '’I love how random your tiktok actually is!’’

"I know! I am planning a whole video to film on Grammys day because I'm in love with my outfit and i’m so excited for it!" You said changing the subject but being excited about the idea. After the announcement of nominations and with all the excitement you felt for Harry, you agreed you would attend the Grammys together; it was something important because not only was he running for three awards but also because you never attended any events side by side, except at the 2019 Met Gala. Then the pressures would increase but Harry knew it would be so much easier if he had you there with him. Because whether or not he took the awards home, he knew you were there and he would be grateful for at least being nominated for sure.

"Wait, which outfit did you pick? " Harry asked as he left the tiktok site on the laptop and entered Instagram. Harry selected searched for the hashtag of both of your names as a ship name on the explorer, so it would be easier to find what both of you wanted. "You showed me three different outfits but didn’t told me which one you chose!"

"Oh, I choose the black Prada one!" You answered calmly. Harry stopped using the laptop and turned his head quickly to face his face causing you to look surprised and confused at him due to your reaction. It was his favorite outfit from the three that you had shown to him. "What?I wanna look great before you win your first award and I start ugly crying."

"Oh my god, you’re probably more excited than me." Harry said turning his attention back to the laptop screen.

"Of course I am, I cannot wait to walk around telling people that my boyfriend is not only a three times grammy nominated but a grammy winner!" You answered as you grabbed the water bottle that you had previously asked and drinking a sip.

"Anyway, let’s see!" Harry said as he started searching through the hashtag posts, also drawing his attention to the same screen. You then see a post that catches your eye and points it so that Harry can click. The post was a picture of Harry on the Met Gala carpet with ‘’Harry pierced his own ear for the Met Gala with a needle’’ written on it. "Ok, that’s true! But, now ask me why I had to pierce my own ear?!" He asked ironically, as if he were playing a trick on you, because he knew very well you had a mini argument that day since you refused to pierce his ear with the fricking needle.

"I told you I wouldn’t do it! Do you even have any idea of how dangerous that was?" You replied right after rolling your eyes, but your tone of voice remained calm and you didn't get heated when you spoke. "You know you need to sterilize, right? And what if you had caught an infection? Do you really think I was going to do that? You're an adult. I can't stop you, but I wasn't going to pierce your ear."

"Hey, hey, hey!" He said causing you to stop talking and look at him. Harry raised his eyebrows and looked at you with a smirk before speaking. "The thing is: I really wanted to pierce my ear, and we wear finishing getting ready in New York. I asked Y/N if she had a needle. Neither her and Alessandro wanted to do it. Literally no one wanted to do it but I was very much decided so I did it myself and my ear is completely fine by the way" Harry said the last part making you roll your eyes again while looking at the camera and take a deep breath.

"Anyway..." You said as you dived back into the posts. In one of them you read someone saying in a comment that you and Harry would probably never fight. "Here, this one says ‘’I feel like they’re the type of couple that never fights and when they do, the fight lasts for 30 seconds��’".

"Absolutely untrue!" Harry said almost that immidiately while you nodded agreeing with him.

"Guys, every couple in the world argues. It’s natural, it’s not because we don’t have big arguments and talk shit about each other on the internet that we don’t have conflicts or understatement" You explained. You and Harry are really compatible, but you still have your moments and it’s important to recognize it. No relationship is perfect and disagreeing on things is absolutely understandable.

"Yeah, specially ‘cause we’re different people that come from different places and had different experiences. As long as the disagreements are not causing you serious mental and emotional harm is normal" Harry complemented your thought. It’s important to notice when a relationship is not making you feel good anymore. If your unhappy for any reason is important to leave and to search for help if needed. "See, if you could change anything in our relationship, what would it be?" Harry asked making you pay attention to his words and face as you thought attentively in silence for a few seconds.

"I think I would probably change the fact that we’re usually really far away from each other!" You said calmly while looking at him. "Like, you’re always travelling and so I am, so I feel like it can get hard sometimes because of that and I’d definitely would change that if I could do it without like, changing our whole careers and lives."

"Yeah, I’d probably change that as well!" Harry agreed nodding to you as he was thinking as well. "I’m very grateful for quarantine on that point because we could spend more time together without being so long apart from each other. Of course I wish it was on different situations but I’m grateful for that" Harry said and you could understand that completely. You and Harry had been dating since 2018 and had spend months apart from each other and only you both truly knew how hard it could get sometimes, specially when you had the whole world to judge both of you.

"I fully understand it! Sometimes I think about everyone who spent this past year alone, and I’m really grateful for having you with me...LIke, you’re my best friend, you know this" You said looking at Harry’s face. He had a growing tender smile on his face that was starting to make you nervous and emotional on the same time as you remembered the past year. You felt your eyes getting wet and let out a chuckle looking away from his gaze. "I’m getting emotional! It’s all about my cancer rising today!"

"Oh sure, it’s always zodiac’s fault!" Harry said laughing and then looking at the screen and the crew on the backstage while gesturing with his hands. "That’s probably one thing about Y/N that you guys don’t know. She fully believes on zodiac signs and those stuffs. Actually, there was one time when she told me that we couldn’t be together because our signs were incompatible."

"Okay but like, Harry is an Aquarius and I’m a Taurus. We are incompatible when it comes to zodiac signs!" You said between giggles as you tried justifying your point even though Harry knew you were joking when you said that to him. He didn’t know at the time though he was very much surprised and scared when you said it.

"But anyway, I’m glad that we spend this time together. It’s been weird and funny at the same time like the spaghetti day!" Harry said holding his giggles as he watched your eyes widen because you knew exactly what he was talking about.

"NO, we're not talking about this!" You talked fastly while laughing at the same time as Harry as you both remembered that one night in quarantine when a spaghetti night went completely wrong and he came on the kitchen to see you and a kitchen with spaghetti and tomato sauce all over the floor and the walls and how you cried to convince him to clean the whole kitchen alone and failed. "Ok, let's finish the video here before things are leaked!" You said giggling.

"Alright, this was very nice. Thank you GQ for having us and I hope we weren't the worst guests you've ever had!" Harry said joking even though you both knew that it was quite hard to be very open in the media specially about your relationship but you tried your hardest.

"Don't forget to watch Harry peform on Grammys on sunday!" You said.

#harry styles imagine #harry styles imagines #harry and y/n #harry styles and y/n #HARRYxMODELY/N #harry styles x you #harry styles x reader #harry styles x y/n #harry styles au #harry styles blurb #harry styles fanfiction #harry x reader

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the-last-kenobi · 3 years

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I know I have already requested a fic based on one of the dialogue prompts, so you don't have to answer to this ask if you don't want to. It's just that I would love another angsty story with Qui-Gon and padawan Obi (the way you portray their father-son relationship just melts my heart and breaks it simultaneously). I don't have a preference for any specific dialogue to be included. You as the writer can choose anything from the prompt list. Whatever you think would suit your story best. Thanks again!

Thank you!! <3 Always happy to get requests from you! Oh, author’s choice. Now I gotta make a decision... hm.

I decided to go with prompt #1!

From this various prompts list.

Requests are currently closed.

From the very first moment, Qui-Gon had looked at him and seen Xanatos instead.

From the dueling mats in the Temple, to the rundown transport ship, to the wastes of Bandomeer, Obi-Wan had never really been Obi-Wan to him — just another phantom of his former, cherished apprentice, another reminder of his failings as a teacher.

Obi-Wan knew there had been times when it had been different.

In the mines — his small, trembling fingers sore from slave work pressed against the collar fitted around his throat, his breaths coming shallow but steady as he prepared to press it, to erupt, to shatter himself into billions of fragments just to open a door for Qui-Gon Jinn — there, then, it had been different.

Qui-Gon had seen him, and apologized to him, and praised him.

Offered to be his Master.

Yes, of course, yes.

But despite their bond being sealed and the training begun, after that it felt like two steps forward, five steps back, one step forward, standstill.

Qui-Gon could not seem to comprehend that Obi-Wan was not Xanatos.

He was surprised in his habits, that he hated waking early but enjoyed it once he was up. That he ate light, small meals often throughout the day instead of three large ones, and wouldn’t touch a heaping plateful no matter how hungry he was. That he was tidy in his clothing and writing but usually forgot to make his bed until the end of the day, when he wanted to climb into smooth, tidy sheets instead of a mess.

And he seemed ready, at all times, for Obi-Wan to do something… evil.

Not just wrong, or reckless, or crazy.

But as if he expected his thirteen-year-old Padawan to dramatically drop a facade of innocence like a masked villain dropping his disguise, and prove to the Order that he was capable of incredible harm.

It was worse after Telos.

One might have thought Qui-Gon expected Obi-Wan to announce himself Xanatos’ heir after the older man had flung himself into a pit of acid rather than face justice.

If Xanatos had lurked between them before, he positively pushed them apart after his death.

And then…

And then Tahl died.

And it was Obi-Wan’s fault, his stupid broken bone and his stupid inability to take care of himself or be left alone in a war zone, and she was dead. There would be no more hastily made dinners shared with laughter and teasing and her telling stories from her childhood with Qui-Gon while Qui-Gon cringed and shook his head and looked at her as if she were his favorite star, and no more basking in the light she seemed to share.

And when Qui-Gon looked at Obi-Wan, sometimes it was clear that he could only see the love he had lost, and her lying dead before him.

And wishing it had been Obi-Wan who had died instead.

Obi-Wan could never decide which was worse.

When his Master looked at him and saw Xanatos instead, missing Obi-Wan entirely and both loving and loathing the face he saw instead —

— or when he looked at him and saw him, saw Tahl and the role Obi-Wan had played in her death, and wished to the gods that Obi-Wan had simply never been.

To not be seen at all?

Or to be seen and to be despised?

You look right at me, Obi-Wan wanted to say. You look at me but you’re always seeing someone else.

But Obi-Wan loved his Master. Loved him like a son loves a father, like a good student loves a great teacher, and he could not stop loving him and wanting to be loved in return.

He could not even bring himself to try stopping.

And Qui-Gon, it seemed, could not bring himself to see Obi-Wan differently than he did. Maybe there was simply nothing more to see.

After awhile, Obi-Wan stopped hoping, and simply pushed himself to keep going, regardless of what he received in return. It was enough to be his Master’s Padawan, to have those rare moments of perfect harmony.

He stopped checking to see if his Master was pleased with him. Stopped looking for signs.

Qui-Gon Jinn would never need him, but he needed his teacher, and so he would not complain.

And this state of being went on for years.

And years.

The first thing Obi-Wan registered was the sound of beeping. The whirring of machinery, the quiet hum of droids working nearby.

There was something foreign, uncomfortable and plastic, in his nose and his mouth.

His whole body ached, but at the same time he was so comfortable and so very very tired that it felt as if the bed he was lying on had half swallowed him. He couldn’t so much as lift a finger if he tried.

That’s odd, he thought hazily. I’ve never had a bed try to eat me before.

And that is when he heard it.

Qui-Gon, muffled by a closed door or even two, his voice raised as Obi-Wan had never heard it.

“—you insisted on speaking to me about this right here and now, then the burden is on you! I won’t lower my voice just to appease you, Mace!”

That’s not good, Obi-Wan thought sluggishly. Master is going to get himself in deeper trouble with the Council again, and I can’t help him if a bed eats me.

A pause, and then Qui-Gon shouted, “I don’t give a damn!”

Obi-Wan smiled inwardly. You never do, you rule-flouter.

Another voice rose sharply through the haze, but Obi-Wan could not make it out. Qui-Gon spoke again, anger bleeding into borderline rage. “Look where your priorities got us! I warned you, I told you not to send him in there alone, and did you listen?” The voices drew much nearer as Qui-Gon continued to yell, and he was getting nearer, too.

Obi-Wan frowned. That sounded bad. Who was it that Qui-Gon did not trust to go alone, and what had they done wrong?

“You sent him when I was away and couldn’t do anything to prevent you! You went behind my back! Obi-Wan could have died!” Qui-Gon roared, very close by.

A strange stillness fell, a quiet, like the sudden disorientation after turning off music or a bright screen and blinking in the darkness.

Me.

“He could still die,” said Qui-Gon, much softer, and his voice broke. “My Padawan could die in that bed and you want to talk to me about mission parameters now?”

I went alone somewhere and he did not want me to go. I did something wrong.

“Qui-Gon,” sighed Mace Windu. “No. We just wanted to—”

“I know what you wanted,” snapped Qui-Gon. “I’m not leaving his side, and I’m not discussing anything not related to his health, do you understand?”

A familiar voice that Obi-Wan could not place a name to spoke up just then, mediating. “Peace. Your volume and aggravation are disturbing other patients. Master Jinn, go sit with your apprentice and be still.”

“Thank you, Healer Che,” Qui-Gon murmured.

A door opened. Very close by.

Footsteps approached Obi-Wan where he lay motionless, sunken into the bed and burning with dull physical pain and a much sharper pain called shame.

Qui-Gon sighed somewhere nearby.

And then, to Obi-Wan’s astonishment, he felt warm breath ghosting the top of his head and then a dry-lipped kiss was planted on his forehead, paternal and solemn, a benediction.

“Foolish boy,” Qui-Gon murmured, and the bed shifted as he sat on its edge, one arm coming to curl around Obi-Wan’s shoulders. “Rushing off on perilous solo missions as if I wouldn’t notice.”

Obi-Wan waited, a strange breathless hope inside him, like small child expecting a gift, a silly and wondrous feeling.

“Sometimes I think you don’t know that I love you,” Qui-Gon said. “Go easy on your old Master, Obi-Wan, he’s a very foolish man and you’re going to give me heart problems before my time.”

A sturdy, rough-fingered hand began rubbing absently up and down Obi-Wan’s shoulder.

“You are remarkable, Padawan mine. Don’t forget that.” Qui-Gon’s voice broke again.

With an almighty effort, Obi-Wan struggled within himself, searching for strength. When he found it, he seized upon it, and with all he had he reached out along his decade-old training bond, trying to connect with his Master.

A flash of surprise, recognition, relief, joy.

Qui-Gon actually let out a strangled sob; the arm around Obi-Wan’s shoulders tightened fiercely.

“You’re going to be all right,” he said aloud. “In fact, I expect you’re going to be incredible, one day, my Padawan.”

Obi-Wan could not muster the energy for a smile, but he tried; and perhaps Qui-Gon understood, because the last thing Obi-Wan felt before darkness pulled him back under to the impenetrable sleep of drug-induced relief was the warmth of laughter against the top of his brow, and another paternal kiss.

#obi wan is an unreliable narrator #qui gon shaped up while he wasn’t looking #and qui gon didn’t realize #I was gonna end this in tragedy but I’m tired of tragedy so I wrote some #found family!!!!#star wars #obi wan kenobi #qui gon jinn #qui gon and obi wan #my writing #writing prompts #someone hug obi wan

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sushi0989 · 3 years

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Pick Me If You Want To (part 1)

Summary: Set in the early 1950s, you are an aspiring photographer that is currently working at a toy store until you make your big break. During a surge of Christmas shopping, you are first met by Wanda Maximoff, a mother of twin boys and married. She leaves her gloves, which gives you the opportunity to meet her again. She takes fond of you, and you of her, but her messy divorce with her husband, Vision, risks the custody of her twins. Does she continue your blossoming relationship or fight for her kids? Based on the movie Carol

Pairing: Wanda Maximoff x Reader

Warnings: none (i think)

Word Count: 4823

A/N: I actually thought of this idea in the middle of the night while lying in bed and I literally jumped out of bed to write it down haha. I have 2 parts written so far and I plan on having 4 parts in total. I’m also not sure if I want to include smut because in the movie they hook up once, but I’ll think about it. Anyways, I hope you guys enjoy :)

Christmas was the most hectic time of the year, for shopkeepers especially. You were struggling to stay afloat during the Christmas present buying palooza. The customers kept flowing in searching for the perfect toy for their child or nephew or grandchild, constantly asking what was the best of the best. Not to mention, the annoying Santa hat perched on your head was a little too big for you, so it kept sliding off and obstructing your view. Your shift ended ten minutes from now, you only had to keep at this for ten more minutes, you assured yourself.

That was when a woman walked in: curled chestnut red hair falling just above her shoulders, red lipstick glistening in the store lights, and wore a tan coat over her light blue dress with matching gloves. She looked at the different products quizzically as you tried not to stare. She began to come to your area at the counter, so you pretended you were writing in the sales slip.

"Hello, sorry to be a bother, but I was wondering if you could help me?" the woman asked you, her voice was warm but also had a richness to it you couldn't quite describe. Perhaps like honey. "Of course, ma'am. How could I be of assistance?" you responded with your customer service voice, perky and obnoxious, two things that you were not.

"I was hoping to get something for my twin boys, but I'm not quite sure what I should get them, you see. I was wondering if you could point me in the right direction," she continued, her eyebrows furrowed while addressing you, her green eyes not leaving yours.

Your thoughts about annoying customers disappeared all for this woman. There was just something about her that made you drawn to her, but what was it? "May I suggest a model train? It would be a great gift to share between the two of them," you suggested. The woman felt that she could trust you with anything, you had this energy that she wanted to relish in, but your interaction only lasted for 2 minutes. You gestured to the model train showcase behind the woman and she nodded in agreement. "Yes, I think I would like to order that, thank you, doll," she said to you, your stomach fluttering at the nickname.

"Could I get your name please?" you asked so you could fill out the sale slip, you tried maintaining your professional composure. "Wanda Maximoff," she answered. You asked her to sign the bottom of the page, and she took her gloves off and placed them on the counter beside her to do so, your eyes glanced at her gold wedding band on her ring finger. You stared away to check on other customers as she signed and you noticed an older woman who appeared to be needing help. "If you would excuse me, I need to help another customer. Darcy over here will help you with the purchase," you told Mrs. Maximoff as you made your way to the old woman by the action figures.

She nodded her head and watched you as you turned away. Darcy came over to Mrs. Maximoff and assisted her with the payment, but as Mrs. Maximoff was leaving, she was so focused on you that she had left her gloves sitting on the counter. When you were about to leave for home, you noticed the light blue gloves still lying on the counter, but Wanda was nowhere to be found.

You went to your boss, "Mr. Stark, it looks like one of our customers has left their gloves," you stated with a ring of fear that he might get angry. He crossed his arms and huffed, "well then go look at the sales slip and contact them." You nodded, "yes sir," and pulled out the sales slip for the day. There was written, 'Wanda Maximoff' along with her address and phone number. You wrote the address down on a separate envelope and placed the gloves inside and mailed it off on your walk home.

You got back to your apartment, and much to your disappointment, your boyfriend was there, too. "Hey, baby," he said as you walked into the living room, engulfing you into a hug that you weren't really in the mood for. "Hey, Steve," you said into his chest trying to pull away, the strong scent of cologne invaded your nostrils. He wasn't a terrible person, but you couldn't stand him most of the time by his 'lovey-doveyness'. Your first year with him was great, your love felt pure, but over time it felt bland and repetitive. He, however, was infatuated by you, always wanted to be with you in every waking moment like a puppy.

"Come to France with me," he whines, but you've already told him dozens of times that you didn't want to. You were in the midst of potentially getting signed on as a photographer for The New York Times thanks to your friend, Bruce, who works there. "I already told you no," you groaned, walking away to put your bag down and ready to shower. "Come on, I have so many things planned for us," he pleaded, but you didn't want to hear it and locked yourself in your room. Little did you know, he wanted to propose to you with a candlelit dinner on the Eiffel Tower.

"Open the door," he knocked aggressively, but you didn't want to deal with him right now, or else you would say things that you wouldn't be able to take back. "I'm tired, I'm going to take a shower and crawl into bed," you groaned through the door. "Why don't I join in," he murmured seductively. "Not today, I'm not feeling it," you replied flatly. Steve sighed and walked off, now relieved, you gathered your showering items and went to the bathroom.

Wanda arrived back at her home late at night, her sons running up to her as she walked through the door of her grand estate in New Jersey. Vision, her husband, gave her an irritated expression as she hugged her children. "Go off to bed, kids, I need to talk to Daddy," she cooed and kissed the tops of their heads and they ran off up the spiral staircase.

"Took you long enough to get home."

"Well I was running errands," Wanda huffed and went over to the cupboard that contained alcohol and poured herself a glass of whiskey. She walked over to a chair in the living room and sat with her legs crossed eyeing her irritated husband.

"Errands," Vision chuckled dryly. "It's my turn to sleep in the bedroom, you can stay in the guest room tonight," he seethed while going up the stairs and slamming the bedroom door shut.

Wanda sighed as she chugged her drink and slumped further into the chair. Once the divorce was finalized she could finally be free from his judgment. She could do whatever. Wanda eventually went upstairs and quietly entered the room of her sleeping boys, giving them each other kisses and tucking them in as they were fast asleep.

In the morning, Wanda received a package with her gloves inside, the return address reading 'Stark's Toy Emporium.'

Wanda picked up the phone and called the store.

"Hello, this is Stark's Toy Emporium, Tony Stark speaking," a man answered, seeming to be in a rush. "Hello, I just received my gloves I misplaced at your store in the mail, I was wondering if I could thank whoever found them," Wanda replied.

Soon you were being called over by Tony, his eyes rolled in annoyance, as per usual. You quickly grabbed the phone hoping it wasn't Steve, "Hello?"

"Hi! This is Wanda, I just wanted to thank you for sending my gloves," she chimed through the speaker. "Oh it was nothing ma'am," you replied, trying to shake off the feeling you were getting from this woman's voice. "Well, I was wondering if I could take you out to lunch as thanks," she invited, her voice was a bit softer, deeper than before. "No, ma'am it's okay, it wasn't that big of a deal," you answered back. "Oh come on now, it's my treat. I'll see you at 2 pm at Barnes' Bistro," she hung up the phone before you could object.

It was already noon, only two more hours before you had to awkwardly make small talk with a woman you very well are intimidated by for some odd reason. You hung the phone back on its receiver and returned to work, the rush of people continued through till the end of your shift. There was not even a moment of rest before your lunch. You masked your exhaustion as you entered the restaurant, the aroma of cigarette smoke mixed with delicious food circulated the air, but you would take this scent over Steve's cologne any day.

A waiter noticed you enter and greeted you, "Good afternoon, ma'am, do you have a reservation?" You quickly scanned the restaurant and noticed the top of the chestnut red hair in the back corner. "Um, I believe the name is Maximoff, I see her back there," you pointed in the direction of the redhead. "Ah yes, Mrs. Maximoff, right this way ma'am," he gestured for you to follow him towards the back of the restaurant. It was rather dimly lit, the booths were occupied either by two men in business suits or a man and a woman, all of whom were smoking a cigar or cigarette.

"And here you are," the young waiter said as you stood at the end of the table, Mrs. Maximoff glancing up meeting your eyes. Her fingers also held a smoking cigarette, but you didn't mind since it was the norm, however, you personally didn't smoke. "You made it!" she exclaimed quickly, getting up and kissing both of your cheeks as a greeting. You awkwardly smiled and sat across from her in the booth seating.

"What drink would you like, ma'am?" the waiter asked. "Oh, uh, water should be fine, thank you," you replied quietly, your nervousness could be detected from miles away, but Mrs. Maximoff seemed to be shocked for some odd reason. "Water? No dear, let me treat you to something nice, could you get her a glass of Chianti?" she requested and the waiter nodded enthusiastically and rushed off. Mrs. Maximoff took one last puff of her cigarette before putting it out in the ashtray.

"So, I don't think I ever got your name, dear," she began. "Y/n Y/l/n" you answered quickly. "That's a pretty name for a pretty girl," she smiled and picked up her glass of red wine and took a swig. Your face blushed at the compliment, you looked down at your hands fiddling with the spoon on the table to avoid her eyes. The waiter came back with the glass of red wine meant for you and placed it next to your hand. "Thank you, Peter," Mrs. Maximoff said to him. He nodded his head before dashing off again.

"How long have you been working at the toy store?" she questioned. "It'll be one year next month, it's just a side thing," you answered embarrassed to mention your true dream. "Well, what is it you want to do?" she raised an eyebrow. "I uh- I'm a photographer," you stammered. "That's very intriguing, y/n" she complimented, you were flustered by the use of your name.

"Have you had any success in finding a job relating to photography?"

"I just met with a photo editor at the New York Times last weekend, I have to put together a portfolio and send it off to them to be considered for a position," you explained, finally looking up at her and putting your spoon down. "That sounds exciting! You must show me your work!" Mrs. Maximoff exclaimed with genuine excitement. Steve would complement your photography, but it felt half-hearted, maybe it's because he didn't want you to overshadow him someday.

After lunch as the two of you headed out, Mrs. Maximoff and you exchanged a farewell. "Thank you again for the lunch, Mrs. Maximoff," you thanked her in a quick hug. "Oh, it was my pleasure. And please call me Wanda, you're making me feel quite old. How about I give you my number and we can meet again?" she offered and you couldn't help but nod. As much as you weren't keen on continuing this friendship or relationship or whatever was happening, you felt like this woman understood you in a way no one else did.

You decided to go visit Bruce to thank him for getting the meeting with the photo editor. The thought of Wanda's phone number written on a slip of paper in your handbag added pep to your step as you strolled into the office building. You walked up to the front desk saying you were going to visit a friend, "Mr. Banner is on floor 11," she said. The elevator let you off on the floor and you saw Bruce in his office typing away on his typewriter.

"Y/n! What a pleasant surprise to see you here!" he beamed and got up from his desk to give you a kiss on the cheek. "I figured I should stop by since you're the reason my dreams have a chance of becoming a reality now," you smiled and took a seat across from his desk. "It was no problem, your talent would add so much to the paper. You're also welcome here whenever," Bruce stated leaning back in his armchair.

"Where are my manners? Let me get something to drink! I've got whiskey, gin-" "I just had a drink actually," you countered declining his offer.

"What's one more drink gonna do? Come on, live a little!" he pressured you and got up to go to the corner of his office to pull out two glasses and a bottle of gin. "Fine, only this once," you caved in. He poured two drinks and handed you one. The gin went smooth, but it still burnt your throat, however, you were able to mask it.

"How are things with you and Steve?" Bruce inquired with skepticism, which you found a little out of character, but the alcohol toiled with your mind and proceeded to spill all of your thoughts. "He wants me to go to France with him even though I've told him not so many times. I can't deal with him anymore, but I've been with him for so long now that I feel bad to end things," you confessed, making Bruce intrigued. He leaned on his desk directly in front of you.

"Is there someone else you think is causing you to lose interest in him?" Bruce asked in a low tone and leaned towards you a little bit, but still your slightly tipsy self didn't see the red flag. "I mean, I haven't really thought about that," you answered pondering, thoughts of Wanda flashing in your mind, but you were quickly brought back to reality when Bruce's lips were on yours.

You shrieked, forcing him to pull away. You angrily got up, "what the hell, Bruce?!" you scolded him. "I'm sorry! You weren't reacting when I was leaning closer to you so I just went in!" he defended his actions. "God! All men are the fucking same!" you complained and downed your drink before rushing out of his office. Bruce rubbed his forehead realizing the mistake he made, but it was too late to take it back now.

You arrived back in your apartment to emptiness, Steve was nowhere to be found. Thank god, you thought. You stumbled onto your pea-green sofa and laid there in anguish. Nothing seemed to appease you, nothing went your way. As soon as these thoughts rang in your head, your telephone rang as well. You groaned as you begrudgingly made your way to the kitchen where the phone was hung.

"Hello?" you groaned in a tired and yet apathetic voice which Wanda was a bit surprised to hear.

"Hi, sweetie, it's Wanda!"

You held your breath realizing you rudely answered the woman. You cleared your throat and corrected your shoulders before speaking again. "Hi- uh I'm- hi!" you stuttered, grumbling to yourself for this embarrassing encounter.

"I was calling to invite you over to my house, I would love to have you over," Wanda said, biting her lip hoping that you would say yes. She twirled the cord connecting to the receiver around her finger patiently waiting for your answer.

"Oh, really? I mean, I can. I don't have a car though-"

"I can pick you up!" Wanda interrupted with excitement. "When are you free this week, dear?"

"I'm free tomorrow," you replied with a smile to contain yourself. "I'll come tomorrow at noon then," Wanda concluded, little did you know just how much she was looking forward to seeing you and your adorable self. She couldn't get enough of you, and neither could you get enough of her.

Steve never came home that night, and you didn't care one bit. He was a nuisance to your life, especially right now since he knew how much this photography opportunity meant to you, but his pestering was going to make you snap and break his heart at any second.

You looked your best self, wearing a navy blue blouse with black trousers. It wasn't that common for women at the time to be wearing such things, it was more progressive, however, all you cared about was comfort. You occasionally would wear dresses, but you preferred pants and a shirt. You could say that it was for Wanda, but it was for yourself. People, particularly women, would examine your modern style as appalling, but not Wanda. You figured why not be comfortable and stylish.

You made a small breakfast before Wanda arrived. You had a bit of a headache from all of the alcohol you had the day before, but that was barely on your mind. All you could think about was making sure you looked presentable as did your apartment before Wanda came. You just finished drying the last dish when you heard a knock on your door. You dried your hands with the dish towel before scurrying to quickly let Wanda in.

There she was, standing in a red coat that hugged her figure in all of the right ways. She wore a beige dress underneath, hidden by the boldness of the coat that you couldn't keep your eyes off of. She was also wearing a matching red hat that looked beautiful with her chestnut hair.

"Ready to go?" she asked, seemingly in a hurry. "Yes, let me get my bag," you turned around and grabbed your bag off of the coffee table, inside holding your wallet and your camera just in case there was an opportunity to shoot.

You walked with Wanda side by side in a comfortable silence until you reached her car. You sat on the passenger side, which was connected with the driver's seat.

"Would you like any music?" Wanda inquired as she pulled out of the parking spot on the curb. "I'll listen to whatever you do," you answered. You didn't listen to music all that much, you didn't have the time to nor did you have a radio.

"I like to drive in silence, the sound of the wind soothes me," Wanda replied. You turned your head and saw how the cool wind tousled Wanda's hair around, but never did it ruin her perfect curls.

"There's a Christmas tree farm on the way that I wanted to check out if that's okay with you," Wanda imparted quickly glancing at you but focused on the road. "That's fine, I don't mind," you said. Wanda's cheeks feathered a light pink, delighted that you agreed. She soon pulled into the small but crowded Christmas tree market. There was Christmas music playing, kids laughing and sprinting around completely oblivious to the disgruntled shouts by their parents, and the occasional newlywed couple admiring what tree was to be their first one.

"You can stay in the car if you'd like, I'm just going to pay for one and bring it back some other time," Wanda was saying to you standing right out of the passenger window. You didn't even notice her get out of the car let alone walk around to get your attention away from the beautiful scene you were watching. "That's fine, you go ahead," you answered, glancing up at her face.

Wanda turned around and made her way towards the clerk, the cool winter breeze ruffling her coat and hair. Your attention was now focused on the woman, how her smile stretched from ear to ear, her mannerisms like how she would play with the ring on her finger while speaking to someone, or how she would partially bite her lip while thinking of a response to a question in conversation.

Your hand automatically reached for your bag and pulled out your camera. You stepped out of the car and shot some candid photos of Wanda, capturing her elegance. As Wanda finished up, you took pictures of the rest of the scene you were so enthralled in before Wanda had caught your attention again. Once you were satisfied, you went back into the car and wrote your name onto the foggy window.

"Dirtying my car I see," Wanda teased, making you tense up. "I'm sorry, I'll wipe it-"

"I'm just kidding, you're so uptight! Let loose! I don't bite," Wanda assured you, but you still held your breath around her. You didn't want her to think badly of you, to set her off in any kind of way even though you barely know this woman. You responded to her with a weak smile to exemplify that you understood her suggestion, you reprimanded your subconscious for looking into her enchanting eyes.

She got into the driver's seat once again, only her left hand gripped the steering wheel while her right hand rested on her lap. After another 20 minutes, you arrived at her home. It was evening by the time you got there, the sunset earlier in the winter, but the area around her room was beautifully lit. It was just as you imagined, a large estate with a grand yard filled with all kinds of bushes and flowers surrounding it.

"Wow," you gawked in amazement. You both entered and your head swiveled to take in all of the details perfectly situated around her home. Your eyes lingered at a family portrait of her, her twin children, and what appeared to be her husband, a tall man who had a strained smile, forced, no true happiness lying beneath it. There was no one in the home, was what you thought at first until you heard the giggles of children emanating from upstairs.

"Billy! Tommy! What are you doing?" Wanda shouted, her hands on her hips facing to look up the spiral staircase in the direction of the laughter. "We're just playing, Momma!" one of them shouted back from the bedroom.

Wanda turned back to face you and sighed. "They can be a handful, but I'm just glad they have one another to keep each other entertained." You nodded in understanding, you had younger siblings who were reckless little misfits that you had to take care of, so you knew exactly what it was like.

You noticed a beautiful grand piano located in a room beside the dining area and your legs automatically took you towards it. You hand caressed the top, you had never seen such a luxurious piano, you've only ever played cheap upright ones. "Can you play?" you asked Wanda, your eyes still admiring the ivory keys.

"Sadly, I cannot. My husband can, but he hasn't touched it in years," Wanda confessed, a twinge of disappointment in her tone. "Can you?"

"I can, but I'm not the greatest," you chuckled dryly. "Oh, you shouldn't have said that, y/n because now I'm going to need to hear you play for me," Wanda smirked and walked over to you and the piano. "Oh gosh, I'd rather not. My hands probably have lost their ability and my voice-"

"You sing, too?! Now I must hear you play and sing!" Wanda was elated, she leaned on the piano as your face heated up. You sighed knowing that you were a guest and you brought nothing to give, not even a bottle of wine. "Since I didn't bring you a gift for inviting me to your home, this can be it," you grinned nervously as you slowly sat on the bench and placed your hands on the keys.

Your fingers automatically played a run, completely captivating Wanda at the effortless ability. You cleared your throat and began to sing.

"Everybody loves somebody sometime. Everybody falls in love somehow. Something in your kiss just told me, that sometime is now." You carried on singing, your voice lulling Wanda as she swayed to the song. She crept over and took a seat next to you on the piano bench as you continued playing, trying not to stutter your words when you felt her leg brush yours.

"Everybody loves somebody sometime. And though my dreams were overdue, your love made it all worth waiting for someone like you," you slowed the song and the piano still hummed the last note. Wanda placed her hand on your thigh and whispered, "that was absolutely beautiful." You shuddered by the touch and curled your toes.

"My dad taught me how to play. He would always sing this song to my mother. He loved her so much, I swore that I one day want to love someone the way my dad loved my mom. When he passed, I would play this song for my mother in his place, but then she started to lose her memory and now she stays with my younger sister in New Haven," you explained solemnly. Wanda furrowed her eyebrows, her heart ached for you. She moved her hand from your thigh to your face, cupping your cheek.

"I'm sorry to hear that. I am certain, however, with that talent and song you can win over anyone's heart in under five seconds," she smiled and kissed your forehead. You blushed and looked deeply into her green eyes. You tried to capture this moment into your subconscious. She was no longer in her coat, just her beige dress, a pearl necklace, no gloves, and the same red lipstick. Her mouth was slightly open, she glanced down at your lips and began to close the gap.

The front door of the house abruptly opened and a man wearing a suit hiding underneath a black coat walked inside with a brown briefcase. Wanda quickly dropped her hand from your face and stood up. You turned away from her as well. He took notice of the tension and scowled.

"Wanda. You brought your antics into our home. My home. Under my roof. Already moved on from Monica and now you've brought someone else!" he fumed and aggressively put his briefcase down. "Don't yell in front of her, Vision! We can discuss this privately," Wanda hissed at him.

"I'm taking the kids to Florida with me for Christmas, right now," he announced as he ran upstairs to their room. "You're what?! You didn't discuss this with me!" Wanda yelled at him running after him. He soon was holding each kid in either arm and pushed Wanda out of his way. "You can't do this!" she began to cry, but he ignored her, anger clouded all around him. There was a car outside with a chauffeur, Vision put them in the backseat. You stood there watching this all unfold, unsure of what to do.

You rushed over to the front door to see Wanda sobbing while on her knees on the porch as the car drove off. You crouched down and embraced her, she put her arms around you and burrowed her face into the crook of your neck and shoulder. Her sobs wracked her entire body, her breathing was uneasy, so you rubbed circles on her back. She eventually calmed down and pulled away.

"I'll drive you to the train station," she said with her broken voice. You nodded your head, she needed time to herself and you were right now a reminder of what she just lost. "I'll call a cab, you should go get some rest," you responded and held her hand in yours. "Are you sure?" Wanda replied. You gave her a smile, which she took as her answer.

The cab arrived within ten minutes, Wanda waved goodbye, no hug or kiss on the cheek. You waved back through the window and the view of her became smaller and smaller as the cab drove off into the night.

#wanda maximoff x reader #wanda maximoff #fanfic #marvel #avengers #wanda x reader

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jonnnysuh · 3 years

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could we get along with svt in real life?

A collaborative series by @vernonsnostrils and me (Nala)!

A/N: Lately Bee and I have been doing daily rankings for fun and we decided to share our very very specific and dumb insights with all of you. For this one we're ranking who we think could tolerate us......... <3 Warning: Dumb info ahead

NALA:

13.Wonwoo – looks scary. I also have a rbf so imagine us together omg. Everyone would think we’re vampires. No one would want to be friends with us so we’d only have each other.

12.Woozi – I feel like I know nothing about him :-( He’s an amazing musician, and does come off as a little tiny bit mischievous. I feel like Woozi is the type of guy I have every class with but then we graduate never saying a word to each other.

11. Jun – I think Jun is funny as hell but he’s so quiet. I’d want to be his friend but I wouldn’t know how to approach him. Everyone loves him tho so he has his pick of friends and it does not include me LMAO

10. Jeonghan – (this one kind of doesn't make sense bc he should be higher on the list,, but also?? i'm the one who made this list so fite me) but I think that me and him are pretty similar. We both have a side that’s devious and wants to create havoc but we’re also the mom friend that takes care of everyone and with that I feel like we’d butt heads/ be the designated parents which is EW I am 20 years old,, I'm no one's mommy YUCK.

9. Joshua – he’s also quiet but I know he has a good sense of humour!!!! Hypes up my bad ideas bc he’s not involved -- but he will be giving me a thumbs up in the sidelines. I feel like he’s the type to make me text the guy I have a crush on “Just do it. What do you have to lose?” UM my dignity??? Tf Josh.

8.DK – The human version of a “pick-me-up” He is so “no thoughts, head empty” and I am too. Let’s go cloud watching !!!!!!!!! Let’s pick flowers !!!! A good friend to text on a bad day bc he will literally tell you the most embarrassing thing that happened to him, and even though you’ve heard it before it’ll still make you laugh.

7. The8 – simple, really. He likes art and I love art. He likes fashion, I like fashion. I feel like we could talk shit together LMAO. He has the most specific roasts but they’re always on point. I need someone who’s a little bit mean in my life <3

6. Mingyu – I know I could bully him jokingly and he’d take it (bc he knows I’m joking) but it wouldn’t stop him from pouting a bit. I feel like he’d be scared of me at first LMAO. We both share the hobby of photography so my ideal day out with him is just wandering around with cameras and taking pics of things we think are beautiful. Also forcing each other to pose in front of a dirty brick wall bc “IT LOOKS COOL, TRUST ME.” “WAIT I DON’T KNOW HOW TO POSE THO” and then he’d literally have to mold me into a good pose bc I am Play-doh

5. Vernon – The calm to my crazy, convinces me not to beat someone’s ass. Walks into my room to say nothing else but “Spaghetti” and then leaves quietly. Doesn’t talk to me for 5 months but will send me a meme at 5am bc it reminded him of an inside joke we had. Live-texts his emotions to me while watching tv shows, and shares new conspiracy theories with me. He’s a little bit too chill, I need someone ready to fuck shit up.

4. S Coups – is reliable and gives good advice bc he’s also a ball of anxiety. Nags me to do the right thing. Messes with me a lot. Would stay on the phone with me if I was home alone and told him I heard a noise. Says “Calm down there’s no one there.” BUT he’d also say shit like “check under your bed”

3. Seungkwan– I feel like we’re just as annoying as each other. He has the biggest heart and is super encouraging and thoughtful. Half the time we’re joking around, and the other half we’re fighting. Very much love-hate. Capricorns and virgos are a superior duo. I said it.

2. Hoshi– all round good vibes. Chaos and Loudness matched. Doesn’t always have to be around a lot of people bc he creates the fun when it’s just us two. The kind of friend I practice flirting on and everyone’s like ??? “You’re in love with him” no bro I’m just bored… we just do this kind of shit and he is IMMUNE to my lovey antics by now.

1.Dino– We bully each other a lot but we also have each other’s backs. Definitely not ride or dies tho bc we will tell each other when the other fucked up. We are sarcastic dumb dumbs and that’s why we like each other. I feel like he would only tell me how much he cares about me on my birthday.

BEE:

13. mingyu – i literally don’t know what i would say to mingyu. “tall man” or “what up big boy.” i would be scared of him until someone taught me how not to be. like i gotta hang out with him in a group setting for three months straight until i can say hi to him when i enter a room. if i saw him i would simply just Not See Him.

12. wonwoo – like mingyu i don’t know if i’d have anything to say to him. him and mingyu both have popular high school boy personalities and that scares me.

11. josh – besides being californian, i don’t know if we’d have anything to talk about outside of in n out and traffic. he’s too pretty for me.

10. The8 – i feel like we’ve been over this for me. he’s too intellectual and polite i wouldn’t have much to say to him. but i feel like we could talk good shit about other people.

9. jun – i think i get along well with people with quiet funny personalities. like the kind where you don’t have to necessarily say anything but look at them and they’re telling you what they’re thinking. he knows that i know. so he kept reacting and looking at me. i think it’d take a while to develop a friendship though.

8. jeonghan – i wanna cause chaos with jeonghan. i want to do lots of things with jeonghan i feel like he would give me piggyback rides while sliding with his socks on the floor. he would tease me and i would be offended for five minutes while he pretends to tell me he’s sorry (he’s not).

7. dino – dino and i would be like twins building a sandcastle on the beach. that’s our vibe. like the kids you meet on vacation and play pirates with at the pool. relegated to the kids table kind of vibe.

6. scoups – he’s like the type to play catch with the stuffed animal in the room while we sit on the floor and chat. like he just arrived and is asking me about my day and picks it up from my bed and we throw it around while talking.

5. seungkwan – i think seungkwan and i could sit and talk outside on the patio when the stars are bright. like we could sit outside and stare out at the stars while i talk about my biggest dreams and don’t even need to see him to know that he thinks the world of me

4. hoshi – i see a lot of face masks. hoshi teaches me how to dance while they rest on our faces, but they keep sliding off because we’re laughing too hard. he has immaculate vibes, like the type to say “here for a good time not for a long time” but it’s an absolute lie because he’s there for both.

3. woozi – although i like to joke that he’s an evil little man, i think we could talk a lot about music and he would be very happy to teach me what he knows, and we’d spend a lot of time developing ideas and growing together.

2. vernon – he has the personality of my irl best friend, like a slightly chaotic aquarius who is horrendously hard to reach like 99% of the time. he’s the kind of guy who would try to make dinner but end up fucking it up so horribly that when i come in it’s like smoky and awful and the fire alarm is going off, so i have to air out the apartment and go get takeout and bring it home to my burned smelling apartment and eat it on the floor of the living room while binge watching a new netflix show.

1. dk – i just love the kind of joy and energy he radiates, like would be excited to do anything at all if it’s with me. would love to accompany me on any task if i just asked, like getting ice cream at 10pm and he’d know exactly what kind of flavor he’d get so it could accompany mine well when we inevitably switched halfway through the cone. saves the bottom of the cone, the chocolate tip, for me because he knows it’s my favorite.

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thiswasinevitableid · 3 years

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95. you just witnessed me kill a guy and I have a really, really good reason for it, please don’t call the cops

Sternclay as a super/vigilante au? sfw or nsfw, please!

Here you go! This is NSFW

Content note: this fic contains mentions of murder, serial killers, knives. Brief description of a porn scene with implied dub-con (you can skip from the part where Barclay sees the TV to the next section break). But I included lots of fluff to balance it out.

This is the best hook-up Barclays had in years. Mr. Tall, dark, and handsome has done nothing but compliment him all night, from the fit of his shirt down to his kissing skills. So now that he’s facedown on the bed in this guys brownstone wearing only his boxers, he’s so excited he can barely think.

“Almost ready” a shcck of blinds dropping, “I just need to grab one more thing. Then the fun can start.”

“Can’t wait.” He sighs, shuts his eyes as his date moves across the room. Then the movement stops.

“Who the fu-”

Horrible, sticky warmth spatters the side of his face. Startled, he opens his eyes in time to watch his date fall to the floor, dead. Behind him is a figure in dark clothes with a tactical mask covering his face and a gun with a silencer in his right hand. A figure who has just noticed Barclay is awake.

In five swift, purposeful steps he’s at the bed, and Barclay doesn’t know what to do, whether to bolt for the window or knock the gun away or beg or, or or-

“Are you alright, sir?” The voice coming from the mask is calm and businesslike.

“.........what do you think?” Is the reply his useless brain comes up with.

“You look like you’re in shock. Which is understandable.” A gloved hand touches his face, “shit, I’m sorry, I was hoping none of it would get on you. Here, hold still.” He rifles through a pocket while Barclay’s mind drifts further from his body. Why isn’t he just killing him now? Is this part of some sick game?

“Turn your face this way just a bit” the back of his hand nudges Barclay’s chin, “good, thank you. I’m going to get you cleaned up, once that’s done I need to ask you to stay here until I’m finished cleaning up the scene. And also to not call the authorities for help when I’m out of the room.”

“Why?” Nope, okay, that’s it, that’s the reply that gets him shot.

“For one, you’re not in any danger from me. You were in danger from the now-deceased Mr. Martin, which is why I killed him.”

“I, uh, h-how can you be sure?”

“Let me show you” he helps Barclay up, guides him to the body, “you don’t need to look at him, just at that.”

He’s pointing to the boning knife clutched in the man’s hand. Barclay’s guts turn to sour milk.

“M-maybe he picked that up when he saw you?”

The killer shakes his head, gently guides Barclay back to the bed and, after a moment of studying the nightstand, pulls out the bottom drawer. It contains two more knives, duck tape, pliers, and seven, severed human thumbs.

“Oh fuck. What the fuck, what the fuck?” He whispers as the man closes the drawer.

“Mr. Martin is the Bear Butcher. I doubt you’ve heard of him, because that’s the name the authorities use among themselves while insisting that there’s no need to warn the public about him. He’s killed seven men, all gay and all on the bigger side; you would have been number eight.”

“I’m gonna be sick” He tips forward, feels gloved hands catch him and easily half-drag him into what turns out to be the bathroom.

“Wait here and do what you need to. I’ll be done in fifteen minutes, less if I can manage it. And, um, you might want to keep your eyes closed.”

Barclay has no problem with that order, though when the killer (his hero?) moves the body into the tub he discovers both the reason for the warning and that he does indeed have more in his stomach to throw up.

After an eternity of iron and bleach in the air and bile on his tongue, he’s helped back into the bedroom. The man hands him his clothes, turning his back as he dresses. He’s changed too, though the mask remains.

“I, I didn’t bring my car.” Barclay says weakly, knowing he won’t have the energy to walk home and the thought of getting in a cab or rideshare sets his nerves screaming.

“I assumed, since he wouldn’t want it being abandoned to lead to someone calling you in missing. If you’re okay with it, I can give you a ride home.”

Barclay nods. The man ushers him out the front door, pausing at the threshold for a final sweep. Then he pulls off his mask. Black hair sticks up until he smooths it back in a practiced motion, and blue eyes regard Barclay gently from a handsome face.

“It’s the Altima, right on the corner.” He says, folding the mask and tucking it into his pocket. Barclay gives his address, sits stiffly in the passenger seat as a pop station plays from the speakers.

“Do you want to change the station?”

“No” Barclay inhales fine, but the exhale comes out shaky, “jesus, how are you so calm?”

“Because if I’m trying to help you stay calm, I need to model the behavior. And, um, this isn’t my first time doing this, in case that wasn’t obvious. I’ve never had a witness before, for all the usual reasons and I’d prefer not to traumatize someone. But he went off his pattern and picked you up tonight, and I was not about to let him claim another victim.”

“Thank you.” Barclay doesn’t know what else to say. His adrenaline brain suggests propositioning the man in gratitude because it’s not everyday a hot mystery man saves your life. But the rest of him is well aware that if anyone touched him right now he might scream.

“It’s my job. Or it’s supposed to be.”

His curiosity peeks out from where it’s been hiding behind his sense of self-preservation, “What’s your name? Or can you not tell me?”

“It’s Joseph.”

“Barclay.”

“I wish we’d met under better circumstances, Barclay. Oh, here we are.” He parks the car, engine still running, “do you want me to wait until you’re inside to go?”

It should feel safe; it’s his apartment, his home above Amnesty’s new location, Mama’s own little house just out in the backyard. But his hand can’t make the fucking door handle go.

“Would, uh, would you mind coming up with me? Just, just for a few minutes?”

The man raises his eyebrows, but nods. Soon he’s standing in Barclays little kitchen, hands folded politely behind his back while Barclay tries and fails to start tea.

“If you want to just point to where things are, I can do that for you. You should eat something too, if your stomach’s settled.”

Barclay declines at first, but when his stomach growls Joseph moves through the kitchen--making distracting small talk all the while--not stopping until he’s assembled a plate of crackers, cheese and apples.

“Ooh, you got the good stuff.” He steals a piece for himself while Barclay nibbles a Triscuit

“Kinda a cheese snob; comes with the job.”

They talk about food and food writing until his plate is clear, at which point Joseph suggests he get ready for bed. Without being asked, he stays by the door as Barclay finishes getting changed and brushing his teeth.

“I, uh, I’m not really sure how to, uh, end this night.”

Joseph cups his cheek, “Lock the doors behind me. You don’t need to worry about anything else; you don’t owe me a thing. You’re safe. That’s what matters.” He smiles at him for the last time and heads out into the early morning light.

----------------------------------

“Hey big fella, you’ll never guess who put in an order.” Mama clips up the slip from the table she’s working; Amnesty has been busy in the week since they opened here, so much so that she’s had to help with the crowds.

“Who?” Barclay flips the pancakes he’s watching, checks the bacons for tables 15 and 9.

“Your late night visitor.” Mama winks.

He turns, spots Joseph at the far end of the counter. He’s in a black suit, blue tie setting off his eyes, and his hair is fully slicked back. On his chest is a badge identifying him as working at the nearby FBI offices. He’s clearly as surprised to see Barclay as Barclay is to see him. He’s less surprised that Mama saw him leaving; she gets up early and her window faces his back stairs

“Hold on” Mama nudges him, “did he give you trouble? Because you look pretty off.”

“No, no, just, uh, didn’t expect to see him again.”

Joseph orders hash and poached eggs, and when Barclay sends the order out, he hands Dani a slice of cherry pie to go along with it. He peeks over his shoulder; Joseph is looking at the free dessert, smiling. Then he takes a bite and makes a face that’s borderline orgasmic. Barclay looks away before he drops a hot waffle on his foot.

Amnesty's restaurant closes at 3, and as Barclay is locking the front door, he notices Joseph waiting for him in an easily visible, well-lit spot.

“You know, I meant it when I said you didn’t owe me anything. Not even the most delicious pie I’ve ever eaten.”

“I give freebies now and then” Barclay smiles, “no rule that says I can’t give them to someone who did me a huge fucking favor. And, uh” he blushes, “glad you like the pie.”

“The whole meal was incredible. You’re a very talented cook. Would it be okay if I came back?” His expression is hopeful, almost nervous.

Barclay touches his shoulder, “Anytime.”

-------------------------------------

“So, uh, I’ve haven’t had a chance to ask but, uh, when you’re not working or chatting with me here, what do you do? For, like, fun?” Barclay leans across the counter as Joseph licks his form clean of meringue. Barclay’s gone through twelve different pie recipes in the last month just to see which ones the other man likes best.

“I read a lot, cultivate an extensive knowledge of old horror movies, try to make decent risotto in my apartment...oh, I play frisbee golf sometimes, I picked it up in college.”

“Any interest in seeing that new Godzilla movie? It looks terrible but in a fun way.”

“Oh yeah, I like what I’ve seen of the design they’re using for the kaiju.” He notices Barclays hand resting millimeters for his own. He runs his thumb along Barclays knuckles, “are you asking if I’ll go see it with you, big guy?”

“Uh huh.”

“I’d love to.”

---------------------------------------------

“Holy fuck babe, when you said you were running out to get breakfast I figured you meant, like, McMuffins.”

“Only the best for you, big guy. Consider it a thank you for making dinner last night.” Joseph finishes laying out the donuts from “Holes in One” next to the plate of bagels and lox from the only place that Joseph insists does them right.

Barclay wraps his arms around him, tickling his cheek with his beard, “you’re fucking amazing babe.”

Joseph kisses him, coffee flavored and light, “So are you. Still want to play chess later?”

“Uh huh. Winner gets to blow the loser?”

“I like those terms, Mr. Cobb.”

It’s been like this for the last three months; evenings at the movies or tangled up in bed, mornings in sleepy hazes on the couch or out the eat, days upon days of Joseph spoiling, servicing, and just generally loving the hell out of him.

There are also the nights or, more often, early mornings, when Joseph returns steeped in grim satisfaction. At first he avoided having Barclay over those nights or going to see him the next day. Lately, they’re together so much that it’s unavoidable that Barclay will see the lethal edge lingering in his gaze or rub knots from his shoulders that he knows were earned in some darkened room where horrors had been playing out for weeks, months, even years. He doesn’t shy away from it; he loves Joseph, and that means seeing him clearly, though sometimes what he sees sends chills across his skin. Chills that feel less and less like fear.

They’re out for a walk around the lake, trading bites of gelato, when a question tunnels it’s way to the front of Barclays mind. He waits until they’re sitting on a bench far from any prying ears to ask it.

“What made you decide to, uh, do what you do?”

His boyfriend studies him, then sighs, “A number of things. Fear was the first one; you said you don’t follow true crime, so I’m guessing you don’t know of the Janesville Strangler?”

“Nope.”

“He killed ten young women over the course of three years. He’s also my biological father. Michael Stern is my stepfather and, at my request, my adoptive one as well; my mom remarried as soon as she was sure my father couldn’t get out. He, he never turned any violence on me, but I suspect he used me as leverage with mom; she was a smart woman, I suspect she noticed something amiss but was frightened into keeping quiet. I was six when they locked him up, eight when she remarried. Mike is a gentle man, he did his best to raise me the same. But I, I never shook the fear that whatever drove my father to kill innocent people lurks somewhere in my genes.”

Barclay’s arm rests protectively across Joseph’s shoulders.

“I joined the FBI because I felt if I was able to turn whatever killer genes I have towards understanding serial murderers, I could use them to help others. Keep people safe. Ambition and skill moved me through the ranks quickly but” he sighs, “the more I rose, the more I saw how little was being done. How cases were mishandled, how if there was the slightest hint it was a cop or veteran doing the killing suddenly the case went cold, how a killer could pick off person after person and no one cared because the victims were the “wrong” kind of people. It came to a head two years ago; I’d poured all this energy into a case where the killer went after sex workers. He was prolific and obviously cruel, I fought tooth and nail for every resource I needed to track him. Officer Alex Brown was my main suspect, I was so close to getting a warrant to search his property and then they closed the case. Insisted the deaths were unrelated. I...I went up and searched on my own and” he looks at the sky, rests his head on Barclays arm, “lord almighty the things I found. I was right, I was right and I couldn’t do anything about it, he’d get to just go on preying on people and I couldn’t handle failing his future victims that way. I waited until he went on a hunting trip. Alone. Lots of things can happen to a man in the woods. And it’s hard to find evidence when his body just happens to fall near a coyote den.”

A little smile, one he tries to suppress, creeps up his cheeks, “I’ve never felt so powerful in my entire life. I decided I’d still try to play by the rules but that if I knew, for certain, someone was guilty and being shielded by either ignorance or malice, I’d solve the problem myself.” He looks at Barclay for the first time since he started his answer, face turning to shame, “I’m sorry, I, I should have given the short answer. I didn’t, I don’t want to upset you, or scare you but it’s hard not to given-”

“Joseph” Barclay carefully runs his fingers over black hair, “it’s not like I forgot how we met. I...I’m not under any misimpressions about what you’re capable of. I just wanted to know how you arrived at the solution you did. It’s, uh, it’s not what I’d choose for myself, not something I could do but, uh, I guess what I’m trying to say is that this isn’t going to push me away from you. And that it means a lot to me that you trust me enough to explain it.”

His boyfriend curls closer, “It means a lot to me, too.”

-------------------------------------------------------

Black gloves on his throat, weight on his chest and when he opens his eyes it’s Joseph above him, steel in his gaze and between his fingers. He’s in a muddled dream version of Bear Butcher’s apartment

“Hi, big guy.” The thin knife slices up Barclay’s pants, “let’s get you out of these.”

“Please, please I-”

“Shhhh” Joseph kisses him, “I removed the man who threatened you. But you’re so handsome laid out like this, a victim just waiting for someone to make you scream.”

“Babe, I-”

“That’s not my name right now. Call me..” the hand no longer has a knife, is running roughly up his cock instead, “call me…”

Barclay wakes up still humping the mattress as he cums. Blindly, he reaches for his phone to check the time. It’s the fifth dream like that in two weeks, and they always leave him so horny he tries to get it up and get off again if there’s time. No such luck today; he has to be up in ten minutes.

He tries not to think about it during work, just like he tries not to think about it the rest of the time. Especially in bed with Joseph, his attentive, indulgent Joseph who puts all his organizational skills and professional practice at giving orders into domming Barclay so sweetly he stays in subspace for hours.

He’s still very much not thinking about Joseph gagging him so his screams don’t wake the neighbors as he climbs the stairs to his boyfriends place. Dani was a sweetheart and took care of his orders for him, so he was able to leave work early.

The T.V is on, volume up loud enough that he can tell what his boyfriend is up to before he even walks into the room. He fully intends to tease him for not being able to wait until Barclay was there to jerk off before hauling him into the bedroom. But when he sees the screen, he freezes.

A man in what looks like a cheesy camp counselor uniform is tied to the bed, his shirt stuffed into his mouth as a make-shift gag. Straddling him is a man in a black jumpsuit, knife near his hand and cock buried in the counselors ass.

“That’s it sweetheart, wiggle and try’n get away; you ain’t gonna and it feels so fuckin good when you try. This is what you get for leaving the window open.”

The counselor shakes his head, fear so palpable Barclay barely notices the fact the boom mic is in the shot. The killer pulls the gag free.

“Please, please, don’t kill meAH, ohgod”

A dark laugh, “I’m not gonna kill you, sugar. Thought about it, but when am I gonna find an ass this good again? Nah, I’m gonna take you back with me, keep you strapped down because you’re the, fuck, cutest goddamn specimen I ever caught.”

On the couch, Joseph tenses, cumming in the sleeve he’s using with a cry at the same moment the killer on screen cums and bends to kiss his co-stars tear-streaked face.

Joseph hits the remote, causing the T.V to go dark and reveal Barclay’s reflection.

“Shit!” Joseph leaps up, making Barclay yelp in surprise, “oh, oh thank the lord it’s just you….oh god how much of that did you see?”

“Some?”

Joseph drops to the couch, head in hands, “shit. I’m, I’m so sorry Barclay, I, I never wanted you to know about this habit, I’m sorry it’s awful.” The voice between his fingers sounds like it might cry.

“I mean, that wasn’t like a snuff film, right?”

“Those aren’t real.”

He can’t help but smile remembering Joseph’s rant on the subject, “what I meant was: those guys are just actors getting paid to do a scene like that, not some actually getting attacked.”

“Of course not.” Joseph looks up, horrified, “I’d never watch something like that. The, the whole reason I like this company is that they do horror porn under very ethical working conditions.”

“Then why are you acting like I caught you pissing in my coffee?”

“Does the fact I get off to this honestly not bother you?”

“I mean, people get off to all sorts of shit. Like, um, like” he twists the bracelet on his wrist, “like their boyfriend tying them up and threatening to make them scream.”

Josephs eyes widen. Then he shakes his head, “No. No we can’t do that.”

“Why not?”

“Because I...I never, ever want to hurt you that way. Even in a scene. I can’t stand the thought of you being scared of me, of turning these impulses loose on you. It sounds fun until I picture it and then it makes me ill. No, this stays firmly in my head.”

“Okay.” He keeps his reply soft to hide his disappointment. Joseph is still on the couch, refusing to look his way, and so he circles it and kneels at his feet to better rub his arms. He thinks about the images on screen. About Joseph, blissed out then suddenly shame-faced. Joseph, two nights ago, calculated and loving as he worked Barclay over.

No, maybe the kind of scene he’s been picturing isn’t for them. But he can think of one that is.

“What if, uh, instead of giving into the desires that freak you out we kind of rechannel them. Like, instead of strapping me down to torment me, you’re doing it to show off?”

Blue eyes meet his for the first time all night, “Say more.”

--------------------------------------

“Ready?” Barclay bats his eyelashes at Joseph as his boyfriend finishes double checking the tightness of the rope he’s using to tie Barclays arms above his head.

“Ready.” Joseph stands, rolling his shoulders and closing his eyes as he takes deep breaths. Then he frowns, “can you start us off?”

“Sure thing, babe.” He nestles his head on the pillow, “okay, you found me tied up like this. What’s your first thought?”

Joseph opens his eyes, gaze sharp, “That I’m so lucky someone left a handsome specimen like you where I could find him.”

Barclays cock twitches at being referred to that way, “You’re not gonna let me go?”

“Not just yet. You’re so perfect, will you let me make a case for staying here with me?”

“Please” Barclay whimpers as Joseph straddles him, knife in hand.

“I’m very precise, for starters.” He cuts slowly up Barclays boxers until he can pull the strip of fabric off. Repeats the process, lips a firm line of concentration, with his undershirt, “see? There’s not even a scratch. I have to be careful not to damage my perfect specimen.”

Barclay groans, rolling his hips. Joseph smiles, shifting so his cock rubs against Joseph’s clothed crotch.

“Fuck, Joseph-”

“Shhhh” a gloved thumb brushes his lips, “When you’re like this, my name is Sir.”

“Ohfuck.” Barclay rubs his cheek pleadingly in his palm, “Sir, please, please, untie me so I can touch you.”

“Not yet.” Joseph pats his cheek, scoots backwards on the bed, “besides, you’ll have lots of time to touch me once I take you home and make you my sweet live-in plaything.”

“Holyfuckingshit.” Barclay fights off a dozen tantalizing images of what that could entail to focus on their plan, “Sir? What, uh, what was the guy who tied me up going to do to me?”

His boyfriend settles between his legs, “He was going to take you apart.” He lifts Barclay’s right leg, “starting with these, so if you got free you couldn’t run. This tendon first” he kisses the back of his knee, making Barclay giggle. He pauses, then decides on holding both legs up at once so he can repeat the kiss on the other side. His lips move slowly down to his ankles, right side and then the left, before a final one lands on his arch, “he was going to cut here too. But not me” the kisses continue, “I’m going to rub them every evening so you’re never sore.”

“Fuuuuck” He sighs as Joseph straddles him once more, leaning forward so he can kiss and fondle his arms.

“He was going to slice alllll along here” Joseph’s breathing is picking up the longer he lavishes Barclay with kisses, “then he was going to take your fingers one by one” Joseph kisses each knuckle in turn, his free hand petting Barclay’s face and hair, “then he was going to commit a cardinal sin by mangling these” Joseph toys with his pecks, sucks happily on his left nipple for a moment, “what a crime that would have been.”

“Sir” it’s a whine as Joseph nips and kisses his way down to his navel.

He raises slightly, mouth just above Barclays cock, “and because he had no imagination, he was going to cut this wonderful appendage off. Which is not the treatment it deserves.”

“What treatment does it deserve SirrrrrOHfuck, fuckyes” Barclay pants as Joseph licks stripe after stripe up his cock. As Joseph licks and sucks him to a hard-on, he feels the plug slip from his ass.

“I don’t know what his plans were for that” Joseph sits up, undoing his pants and pulling out his cock, “but I know what mine are.” He pushes Barclays legs wide, works his cock in with slow, steady thrusts while Barclay tries to remember how words work.

“Shit, yes, god your ass is amazing, what kind of person sees it and thinks its for anything but fucking?”

“Nngh” Barclay clings to the ropes as Joseph’s thrusts quicken.

“Lord, I thought you were a perfect specimen before but I was wrong, you look even better taking my cock.”

“Fuck, fuck that’s hot.”

Joseph grip his thighs tight enough to hurt, “well, big guy, will you stay with me?” His eyes glitter, his hair is coming loose and falling across his forehead.

“YesAH, yes, ohfucksirright there” He didn’t notice Joseph changing the angle of thrusts until his cock found his prostate, “I’ll be so good Sir, wanna be a good boy for you.”

“Oh good.” Joseph’s smile goes wolfish for an instant, “because I would have had to do some very mean things to persuade you if you refused.”

Barclay cums at that, staining Joseph’s shirt with white. His hands knock against the headboard as Joseph fucks him hard enough to make him sob with oversensitive pleasure.

“You’re going to be such a nice plaything for Sir, aren’t you?”

“Yes.”

“Good boyOH, ohshit, shit.” Joseph pulls out halfway through cumming, spattering it on Barclays thighs and balls. Carefully, he lowers his legs. Then his boyfriend collapses into his arms, panting and giddy.

“That, that was so fun. I’d say who knew but every time we fuck you show me just how fucking fun all this can be.”

“Aw, babe.” He goes to hug him and rediscovers the ropes.

“Ohshit, here” Joseph sets to work undoing his knots, “are your wrists okay? Not too sore? How about your shoulders?”

“They all feel fucking great, baby. I feel great. How could I not? I got you looking after me.”

Joseph smiles, “and out for you.”

“That too. Now c’mere, special agent, your next assignment is cuddling your boyfriend.”

#sternclay #agent stern/ barclay #meet ugy #taz amnesty

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tchallasbabymama · 3 years

Text

The Temple- Chapter 3

Taglist: @nahimjustfeelingit-writes, @quietstorm-73, @ladymac82

Read Chapter 2 if you haven’t already, and let me know if you want to be tagged. Don’t forget to check out my Masterlist!

CW: smut

Word count: 4231 “Hello, my prince. I am Aisha.”

The words sounded like a prayer on her lips. Aisha.

“N’Jadaka.” The prince gingerly grabbed her hand and kissed the back of it, causing her to giggle at the tickling feeling.

“I am aware. This is your first visit?”

“That obvious, huh?”

Aisha full on laughed this time, a melodious siren call. He wanted nothing more than to let her drag him into her waters and keep him for eternity.

“Painfully so. No worries, I’ll ease you into it.”

N’Jadaka’s ears perked up at her forwardness.

“‘It’ being…?

“The reason we were called to each other.”

He leaned in to whisper into her ear, just loud enough for her to hear him over the crowd.

“And what reason is that, beautiful?”

The prince’s arm went around her waist, and he felt her place a kiss just under his collarbone. N’Jadaka just about melted right then and there, so Aisha grabbed his hand and led him through the crowd in the opposite direction from the entrance. Instead of another large door, this part of the temple was only separated from the rest by an ornate purple curtain, and when she drew back the curtain his eyes travelled to the winding staircase before them. Vibranium lit the halls as his eyes took in the artwork on the wall, some different stories of Bast and others scenes of sexual pleasure featuring the oldest Daughters of Bast from thousands of years ago. After staring in awe at his surroundings, the prince’s eyes fell to Aisha’s ass. It was by no means the biggest ass he had ever seen, but it was the perfect size and shape for his hormones to go crazy.

“How much farther?” He asked, pulling her back towards him and placing his nose in the crook of her neck, taking in her sweet natural scent.

“Not much farther, my prince. I promise.”

“I like when you say that shit.”

“My prince?”

N’Jadaka grinded his erection into her lower back and she reached back to grab him by the balls, making him release a whimpering sound in her ear.

“Not yet...my prince. There is much we must do before I let you experience Bast’s blessings.”

He pulled back and tilted her face towards him, staring into her light brown eyes.

“What else is there?”

Aisha chuckled darkly and pulled him along once more, hand never moving from her warm cradle between his legs. He followed with his bottom lip wedged perfectly between his teeth, trying not to bite down as hard as he wanted to.

__________

He swore the temple was bigger on the inside, or maybe it was just his raging hormones making the walk seem impossibly long. Once they arrived at what N’Jadaka assumed was her door he felt like they had been walking for forever. She opened it and motioned for him to enter.

“After you, your highness.”

N’Jadaka stepped in and took in his surroundings once more. The room was dimly lit and the lingering smell of incense greeted him before anything else. The only window was stained glass with a large kaleidoscope pattern that N’Jadaka was sure would look amazing in the sunlight. He took note of the massage table in the middle of the room, and then he noticed a bed as well as a chair over to the side. He could barely hear faint instrumental music playing in the background.

“So you’re a masseuse, too?” N’Jadaka asked Aisha.

“We are all well-versed in many physical arts, including massage.”

“So you’re good with your hands?” he asked with a devilish smirk.

Aisha smiled knowingly.

“Yes your highness, I am.”

“Well let's get to it then.” He rubbed his hands together and walked towards the massage bed, He stopped when he noticed the hole near the middle.

“Wait, is that for my dick?”

Aisha giggled.

“Yes, my prince. Some find it uncomfortable to lay on an erect penis during a back massage, and others enjoy it as part of a kink. We will see which one you are. Either way, you will be receiving a full-body massage in every sense of the word. Would you care to lay down?”

“Yes ma’am.”

N’Jadaka laid on his stomach, awkwardly placing his dick through the opening.

“Feels weird just hanging like this…”

“It always does at first, but if you wish you do not have to utilize it.”

“Nah I’m curious.”

“Are you ready to begin, my prince?”

“Uh yeah, let's do this” He said, trying to mask his nerves. He was instantly calmed down when she placed her hands lightly on his head to feel his energy and slowly trailed them to his feet, touching everything in between and acquainting herself with his body.

“Lavender or eucalyptus oil?” Aisha asked the prince. He pointed to the lavender bottle and she pumped some into her hands before rubbing them together.

When her hands came up to knead at his tense shoulders, her strength surprised him. He had never felt anything like that before. Her thumbs beat the shit out of his tension and the heels of her palms ran it out of town.

Aisha’s hands moved to his lower back and he let out a moan that he wasn’t expecting, before clearing his throat.

“It’s ok, you know? Moaning, expressing yourself in that way. If it feels good it feels good.”she told him.

N’Jadaka nodded slowly, not trusting his voice at the moment.

Her strong hands made their way to his backside and he giggled.

“Sorry, I guess I’m ticklish.”

“Plenty of people are, it’s a very sensitive area.”

She continued to knead his glutes and he tried to speak through his giggles.

“So- aha, how long have you be-been doing thi-sss?”

“Just two years. I got the call young so I started studying anatomy, massage therapy, reiki, and acupressure. When I hit adulthood I began my training to be a Daughter of Bast, and after three years I was able to officially call myself a Daughter.”

Her hands moved to the backs of his thighs, which was no better for him sensitivity-wise and he felt a stirring in his loins. He could feel his dick hardening and being pulled down by gravity herself the more it grew.

“Three years? That’s a long time.”

Aisha smiled at his attempt to make conversation.

“Yes, but it flew by. It takes time to learn the physical arts, even with my background.”

“I like that y’all call sex ‘physical arts’”

“Not just sex, my prince, but intimacy. What we are doing now is intimate, yes?”

“Hell yeah it is,” he said with a smile.

“Everybody comes here for different reasons,” She began as her hands moved down to his calves. “Some require sex, some just need us to lend an ear, some need the relaxing environment, some need to be held...it varies from person to person.”

“Makes sense. So what do I need?”

“Everything I just mentioned. Life was not kind to you, and that much loneliness doesn’t just disappear with talk therapy. Humans require intimacy not just for survival, but for our mental state as well. And I don't mean just in terms of sex. No, I mean familial relationships, romantic and platonic relationships. Even the intimacy that comes from community. That love and support and closeness can come from anywhere, you just have to be open to it. But it is difficult if you’ve never been given that chance before. After all, a child not embraced by their village will burn it down to feel it’s warmth.”

A lump formed in the prince’s throat as he thought back to the scorched Garden of the Heart-Shaped Herb.

“I’ve heard that somewhere before.”

“I’m sure, it is a very old proverb.”

Aisha massaged his feet and he felt his body respond to her touching the corresponding pressure points. He felt a rush of blood and his dick immediately jumped.

“How are you feeling,” Aisha asked, already knowing the answer.

“Relaxed and horny. Yo this upside down glory hole is kinda nice though, I might have to get a bed like this...”

“May I pleasure you like this or would you prefer a different position?”

N’Jadaka froze as if he had forgotten why he came here.

“Uh yeah, this is good…”

Aisha crawled under the massage table and sat on a pillow, cross-legged under his raging erection.

“If it pleases you, I will start with my hands.”

“Oh, it pleases me…”

She pumped some unscented oil into her hands before bringing them up to his dick. It was sensitive to her touch and he winced as she grabbed the base with one hand and massaged the tip with her other hand.

“My prince, there is no pride or ego here. When you feel the need to release you do so. Do you understand?” “Yes.”

“I did not hear you.” She said as she squeezed a little tighter around the base.

“Y-yes!”

“Good.” Aisha smirked and her focus returned to the task at hand. She used her fingertips to tease the underside of his dripping dick, watching with joy as it tried to twitch out of her grasp only to be pulled back in by her soft hand sliding up and down his shaft. His foreskin pulled back more and more as his dick grew in size and thickness the more she worked it. When she reached for his balls again he nearly lost it, letting out a loud guttural moan.

“Looks like I found it,” she giggled to herself.

She added more oil to her hands and coated his sack with one hand while working just under his head with the other, causing the vein under his dick to throb more and more until he released on her face with a growl. Each time his hips jerked, more spilled out and Aisha couldn’t help but get a taste. She swiped her finger across her face, gathering his cum, and brought it to her lips to sample the salty goodness. She brought the flat of her tongue to the underside of his already sensitive dick and ran it along the length to the tip, pressing her tongue into the still-leaking opening of his urethra hoping to catch every last drop. When she took him into her mouth, the prince stopped her.

“Hold on babygirl, I want to watch you suck my dick.”

Aisha crawled out from under the table and he stared at her cumstained face in awe. She looked even more beautiful than before. He slowly sat up and swung his legs over the side of the table before looking around the room.

“We doing this here, or…”

“Where do you want me, your highness?”

Aisha watched his dick twitch at her words and smirked at her power over him.

N’Jadaka motioned to the high-back leather chair near the stained glass window and she grabbed his hand to lead him over to it. He sat down and she stood between his legs. They stared into each other's eyes before he pulled her in for a sloppy kiss, not caring that her face was dripping with his essence. Their arms snaked around each other and she caressed the back of his neck while he gripped her ass tight. He pulled back to admire her body, taking in her deep brown areolas, and bringing his tongue out to taste the sweet saltiness of her skin.

His tongue worked one nipple while his fingers kept the other company. He alternated between the two, lazily tonguing and sucking and nibbling her erect buds causing Aisha to let out a moan that was more music to the prince’s ears. It was one of those deep, low moans that starts in the gut and travels up the spine before loudly breaking free. Her nipples were extremely sensitive to his touch and as she came down from her high he peppered light kisses around her chest.

“My prince…” Aisha said between breaths.

“Yeah, beautiful?”

“It’s your turn again.”Aisha said while sinking down to her knees before him. She began to drool at the sight of his already hard and leaking dick, throbbing because of her. She stuck out her tongue and opened wide before taking him inside her mouth to the hilt, tongue swirling around the bottom of his ever-thickening dick.

“Fuck! Girl y-you better suck the fuck out this dick.”

Aisha swallowed and sucked his dick like her life depended on it, cheeks hollowing and spit dripping down her chin.

She removed herself from him with a loud pop, and a thick string of saliva connected her lips to his bulbous head. She traced her tongue along the underside of his dick from his frenulum to his ballsack. She brought his balls into her mouth one at a time and worked them on her tongue while lightly suckling on them. Her hand never left his dick, pulling back his foreskin and stroking along his shaft.

“Babygirl, if you keep that up I’m gonna come.”

“No holding back, remember?” She took his balls out her mouth and looked at him with a devilish smirk before placing her lips around his head, and hollowing her cheeks to suck him hard and sloppy. Her tongue came out to massage his dick and he let out a stuttered moan before he burst inside her mouth.

Aisha made sure to clean her plate, sucking him dry and licking up anything left behind. He grabbed her by the chin and pulled her closer, smacking a kiss on her juicy, cum-covered lips. He loved how he tasted on her.

“Do you have one more for me, your highness?”

“Of course babygirl, how do you want me?”

She didn't answer verbally, choosing to push him back and straddle him instead.

“Oh so it’s like that?” He secretly loved her brief flashes of dominance.

Aisha lowered herself onto him, sliding all the way down until they were connected pelvis-to-pelvis.

“M-my prince, you are v-very big.” She struggled to get the words out, distracted by the way his dick stretched her out.

“Yeah and you got that tight, pretty pussy babygirl. Lean back, lemme watch your pussy swallow my shit.”

Aisha did as she was told and planted her hands on his thighs before leaning back and allowing him a view of her treasure trove.

“Ooh, fuck. That’s right, take my shit deep.” N’Jadaka.

“Your highness, it’s so deep.”

“You like that shit?”

“Mmm, yes sir.”

“Bounce on it then” He said as his fingers dug into her ass.

Aisha used her thighs to lift her body, then gracefully slid back down his pole with her hips circling like wind in a tornado. He was caught up in her storm, eyes intensely glued to hers. Her hand came up to grab his chin and hold him in place while her other hand sneaked into his messy dreads. Without breaking eye contact, she leaned down to kiss him and lightly snuck her tongue in his mouth. The kiss was soft and sweet as she grinded her hips slowly into his. They moaned into each other's mouths and climbed towards their peaks together.

“Mmm you feel so good your highness. How do I make you feel?”

“Like I’m on cloud nine babygirl. You got some strong juju in this pussy, I can feel it.”

Their foreheads leaned against each other and she picked up her pace, slamming her ass down on his lap.

“Keep that up and Im cumming in that pussy”

“Please, my prince. Cum inside me.”

At her command, his body convulsed and he released his seed deep inside her. She pulled up and only rode the tip of his dick, making him release a whine-like moan into the crook of her neck while his dick throbbed once more, pushing out the very last bit of semen his body could provide. Aisha’s pussy clenched and she let loose a deluge of her juices onto the prince before sinking back down and relaxing onto him. Their bodies still connected, they stared into each others eyes and took deep breaths in and out until they calmed their heart rates down.

“How do you feel now, my prince?”

“Call me N’Jadaka.”

“Alright, then. How do you feel, N’Jadaka?”

He paused to think about it, leaving them in silence for a minute. Still inside her, his fingers aimlessly traced patterns into her hips while her fingers lightly ran through his hair. She laid her head against his chest and he placed his chin on top of her head. He had never been held like this before. So calm, so close.

“Lighter. Open. Tired.”

They both laughed at that last one.

“Lighter and open how?”

“I don't know how to explain it, I just- don't feel as heavy and closed off in my spirit.”

“That’s a good thing.”

“Yeah, I just-,” N’Jadaka began to tear up and Aisha brought her hand up to wipe them away as they fell. She gave him the time to let it all out. When he was able to talk again, he cleared his throat. “I didn’t know it could feel like this.”

“How what could, N’Jadaka?”

“Living.”

She pressed a kiss to his forehead and they continued to talk for a few more minutes before they finally parted. Aisha walked N’Jadaka back though the temple to retrieve his clothes and when they said goodbye neither wanted the other to leave.

“I am sure I will see you again, my prince?”

“Come on with that ‘my prince’ shit.” he said with a smile, causing her to send him one right back. He pulled her in for a hug and they both took in each other's scent.

“Be safe getting back, N’Jadaka.”

“I’ll see you around.” He kissed her cheek and turned to leave, nearly tripping over a black ball of fuzz.

“Isa? Hey lil mama, what’s good?”

The cat purred and rubbed on his legs.

“It looks like she likes you. You know what that means?” Aisha leaned down to pet Isabis, too.

“Nah, what?”

“You’re pure of heart-”

He looked at her and his eyes got misty before he noticed a smaller black fuzz ball making it’s way over to him.

“-and she finds you worthy enough to care for one of her babies.” Aisha answered with a smile.

“Aww, Isa.” He said as the cat moved to lick the kitten on it’s head before turning back to the prince. He reached out to greet his new friend but was beat to it by the kitten jumping into his large hand.

“It looks like she’s happy with her mama’s decision.” Aisha looked on with pride. This man had transformed right before her eyes and she couldn't be happier for him and his progress. “Do you have a name for her?”

He looked at the little black kitten intently.

“Nah, she’ll tell me what it is eventually.”

The two smiled at each other and exchanged kisses on the cheek once more before the prince was off to the palace with his new fur baby.

____________

“Someone seems to be in a good mood,” Shuri teased the moment he walked in the door.

“Hello to you too, beanstalk.” N’Jadaka threw it right back at her, and fully expected her to make some jab at his scars but the kitten distracted her.

“Bast, she’s adorable! Where did you find her?”

“The temple.”

“Ohhhhh, I’ve heard they have kittens everywhere!”

“Yeah you still got a couple more years before you get to visit all these cute little guys. Isn’t that right….” N’Jadaka paused, thinking a name would come to him. “Damn, nothing.”

“What's the problem?”

“I can’t think of a name. I don't want to just be like ‘hey cat come here’, you know?”

“I get it, but once she shows you her personality it’ll be easier to name her.”

“Name who?!” Nakia rounded the corner with a scowl on her face.

Without a word, the prince held up his new kitten and her face softened. She immediately grabbed the kitten and sat down with her on the couch.

“She’s the cutest! Did you get her from the temple?”

N’Jadaka cleared his throat, not necessarily wanting to go into details with these two. Especially with Shuri’s young ears around.

“I did. There’s a cat that fosters the kittens-”

“Isa? Oh how is she?”

He chuckled at Isabis’ popularity.

“She’s fine, she pushed this one on me and now here we are.”

“I understand, T’Challa and I have two that run our lives. Once this baby gets here I fear we will be outnumbered.”

“What’s T up to anyway? I want him to meet his new little cousin.”

“He’s in his office getting some work done”

“Bet. Can I have my child back please?”

Nakia kissed the kitten’s head and reluctantly handed her back to N’Jadaka.

“Thank you!” He waved goodbye as the kitten climbed up his arm to lay on his broad shoulders. Neither of the three of them could contain their ‘awww’s.

The prince made it to T’Challa’s office on the business side of the palace. The guards saluted him and after he saluted back he noticed their ear to ear smiles. He felt a tug and realized they were smiling at his kitten trying to play with his hair.

He walked in, interrupting what appeared to be a meeting on the screens in front of him. He recognized several of the faces as Avengers.

“My bad…”

He tried to slip back out the doors, but T’Challa stopped him.

“Nonsense, you should join-” The king paused at the adorable sight before him. “Actually, meeting adjourned. We can pick this up tomorrow.”

As the Avengers screens went black, N’Jadaka sat in the chair across from his cousin. As soon as he got close, the kitten leapt from his shoulder to the king’s desk.

“So I take it your time at the Temple was fruitful, umzala.”

“Fruitful? Nigga I almost fell in love and I came home with a child.”

“Love?”

“I mean, I know it's nothing because they do this all the time but damn she was something else.”

The kitten had taken to T’Challa, naturally, and began to climb up onto his shoulder.

“You’re correct that they are professionals, but that doesn’t mean a spark wasn’t felt. Our grandmother was a Daughter of Bast. She chose to leave the temple when she married our grandfather, but that was how they met.” The king explained while play-fighting with the kitten on his shoulder.

“I didn’t think that was possible...so they're not married to Bast or something like that?”

“No, they are free agents. Some of them stay Daughters after marriage or children. Several leave and come back. Bast is the goddess of pleasure, and how unpleasurable would it be to force everyone into the same box?”

N’Jadaka nodded slowly, trying to wrap his brain around the new information.

“So have you named her yet?”

“Nah, I figure it’ll come to me. I can already tell she’s a handful.” He said as they watched the kitten jump down and begin chasing her tail, falling over in the process.

“So back to the temple. Who did you see?”

“Aisha.”

“I can’t say I know of an Aisha, I haven’t been in so long. Every time I go, Isa tries to push more kittens on me, and I hate denying her.”

N’Jadaka chuckled at the thought of Isabis and the king’s interactions.

“So this Aisha, are you planning on seeing her again?”

“Hell yes. How soon is too soon to go back?”

“You can go back whenever, but I would suggest waiting until you feel it is the right time.”

The prince thought over it for a moment before responding.

“I saw her before I met her. In a daydream. Then when I saw her in person I felt this warm pulling in my stomach like-”

“Like a chain pulling you towards her. Yes, I am familiar.” A goofy smile appeared on T’Challa’s face as he thought of his wife.

“So you get it?”

“I do, but does she?”

_______________

On the other side of Wakanda, Aisha lowered herself into a fragrant bath and thought over her day. She had told herself it would be an off-day, but then when she saw the prince she felt something in her gut tell her to go to him. When he kissed her hand ‘hello’ she nearly melted at the touch of his skin on hers. She wasn’t used to experiencing those feelings from patrons.

When she caressed and massaged his body, she could feel the pain melt away. When she rode him she could feel his soul opening up and she gladly stepped through the door. She could feel his emotions and she opened herself to him, allowing him to feel hers. When they came together, she saw constellations in his chestnut eyes.

She stayed in the bath, daydreaming about Prince N’Jadaka until the water ran cold. When she emerged from the water, she air dried her body and covered herself in cocoa butter before lowering herself to the floor for her nightly prayers to the goddess.

Aisha pulled back her sheets and slid in naked. She laid there for an hour, mind racing over all the possibilities, before sleep finally took her in for the night.

Next Chapter

#cecewritessometimes #the temple #n'jadaka x oc #n'jadaka #erik killmonger #black panther fic

114 notes · View notes

dracosaurusrex · 4 years

Text

Palace

Summary: In which you discover a new love in the midst of your heartbreak.

Prompt: “with you, I thought I knew love. but maybe I still don’t” A/N: Hi y’all! So this is my take on the @minty-malfoy ‘s 300 writing challenge :) (Congratulations my friend! You’re amazing!) I have to admit, writing angst is not my strong suit, and I had to do some research to grasp what it was. Within my findings, something that caught my attention in particular was the fact that angst is defined as going through the character’s emotional workings, topped with a newfound sense of strength. There might be some holes present, but overall this piece is molded on that understanding, and I hope it reaches out to you in whatever way that resonates the most.

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Throughout her years at Hogwarts, Y/N had been able to pick up a number of skills. She may not have been as good at studying as Hermione Granger, or as athletic as Ginny Weasely, or even as creative as Luna Lovegood--no. You were an average girl who didn’t have much to show for except your ability to hide behind a thick mask.

You were typically known for your kindness, which was complimented by a pair of sparkling e/c eyes, a warm smile, and a nurturing personality. Additionally, you were graced with a good sense of humor and an infectious laugh. To all of your friends, you were the embodiment of the sun; a girl whose being was commonly associated with terms such as, “beautiful”, “genuine”, and “loving”. A girl who never seemed to show any indication of internal conflict, who had everything under control.

These perceptions always came in handy, for they molded into the shape of a mask when times became rough for you. Because of this, you were capable of fooling everyone into thinking that you were okay.

You felt your consciousness resurfacing from sleep as the morning lulled your body awake. Your eyes fluttered open to the ceiling with your fingers interlaced over your chest. Meanwhile, rays of early light infiltrated random crevices of the dorm, and birds were singing rather loudly outside of your window. Allowing yourself to lay in the stillness, you treasured the moment, took deep breaths, and basked in what felt like peace.

Your surroundings were blissful--and you were grateful--but waking up now equated to reuniting with the recurring tightness that gripped your heart. Memories of a love that had once initiated butterflies had transformed into needles that prickled your chest. A love that once caressed you now felt like a ghostly presence.

‘Where did it all go wrong?’ You found asking yourself as of late. As you laid in bed, you allowed old scenes of your time with Draco Malfoy to play in your head, recalling the feelings attached to each.

You remembered the rush of adrenaline that you felt the first time you had confessed. You remembered the relief combined with excitement when the feelings were confirmed to be mutual.

You remembered the feeling of your heart skipping when his fingers first slipped into yours, hands intertwined like a glove.

You remembered the temporary sense of confidence that overcame when you initiated the first kiss and the shock that appeared on both your faces after realizing what you did.

The first “I love you”.

You remembered your first time with him--the sweet whispers, the moans, the laughing, the feeling of pleasure as you came onto one another. You remembered the way his fingers stroked your hair as you laid on top of him with his free arm wrapped around your waist.

You recalled memories of exchanges of comforting words during moments where either one of you felt doubt or unease.

You remembered the inside jokes you made, the goofy side of him that he only showed to you.

You remembered the plans you both have made, the exhilarating thought of sharing a future with him. The way he gripped your hands and looked into your eyes as he made promises that ended up being broken.

You remembered the thrill of it all--the palace you had built with him, and how you’ve done so fearlessly until it came crashing down.

You recalled all the love you had ever given him, all of yourself you had devoted to him, all the dreams, the hopes, the what-could’ve-beens in the moment the words fell out of his lips:

“With you, I thought I knew love. But maybe I still don’t.” Draco uttered in a bare whisper.

He kept his hands clasped on his lap as he avoided looking at you. You had found yourselves sitting on the edge of his bed with the moonlight illuminating his dorm.

Just a couple weeks ago you were in his arms, sharing kisses without any thought that this would happen--you were on top of the world--but when it did, you felt knots forming over your chest and your stomach. A sob had dared to come up, but you gulped it back down into your throat. Your mind was racing and your eyes were tearing, but you wouldn’t allow your tears to fall. You couldn’t.

Instead, you grabbed both sides of his face and smiled weakly.

“Draco, I’ll always love you. I’ll always care for you…” Your lips started to tremble as you looked straight into Draco’s eyes. They were filled with so much guilt.

Breathing in and out slowly, you continued, “I just hope the next girl will be able to make you even happier and take care of you much better than I did.”

Your lips were pursed into a tight line as you tried to give a convincing smile of reassurance. Your throat started to sting because of the resistance you made towards crying. In doing so, a tear had found a way to roll down your cheek. He grabbed your wrists as you continued to hold his face, his eyes glazed over with regret. His lips trembled as he witnessed your efforts to be strong.

“Y/N, I’m so sorry! I never wanted to hurt you at all! I-” You hushed his frantic whispers.

“Don’t worry about me, my love. I promise you everything will be okay.” It was at this point that Draco let out the gasp of despair he held in. He proceeded to reach out to wipe your tears. You closed your eyes and allowed them to fall at this point, leaning into his touch for the very last time. Once you opened them, you did the same and wiped the tears that had stained his porcelain skin. Draco sat there stunned at how much you were holding in.

You whispered, “We’ll be okay. Okay?” He could only nod. You remembered the last time you leaned forward to kiss his lips. To your dismay, he didn’t respond. As you drew yourself away from him, you stood up straight and attempted in giving one of your signature smiles.

“I guess I’ll see you around Malfoy.”

You recall feeling dead upon arriving at your dorm. Your eyes were puffy, and you thought you finished crying, but as you tucked yourself to bed, the tears you had kept began to fall.

You broke away from the memory as you silently wiped the tears that had formed in your eyes. It has been about a month since your break up. You hadn’t talked to the boy since then. Instead, you made it a priority to reconstruct your life. Your friends would constantly try to comfort you by saying things like, “Go show him what he lost” or “He doesn’t deserve you, Y/N!” You appreciated their efforts, but Merlin knows that it’ll take a while for you to heal. You couldn’t bring it upon yourself to be angry at him. While the moment left a bitter taste in your mouth, you knew deep inside that the love you shared for one another was never a waste of time.

With a huff, you jolted from your bed, grabbed your uniform, and dragged your legs to the bathroom to get ready for the new school day. The way you handled yourself now was done more carefully than how you used to. Every motion--buttoning your shirt, tucking it into your skirt, tying your tie, and throwing your jumper over your body--was done with more caution. You brushed your hair straight, running your fingers through any tangles, and clamped it into a simple half-do. As you stared into the mirror, you took notice of your appearance. The red tint that lined the edges of your eyes as a result of the tears you shed earlier. You notice the bags that have formed, the slight peeling of your lips. You began to fix your face by applying a light amount of foundation and mascara, followed by a thin layer of tinted chapstick. Slowly, the indications of your sadness dissipated as you put on your makeup. You weren’t really the type to praise yourself, but as you stared at yourself in the mirror once more, you had to admit that you felt a bit pretty. ‘It’s a step forward. Here’s to another day’ You smiled slightly at your reflection, and made your way to the Great Hall.

So far, you managed to show what you considered to be your normal self to your friends whenever they were in your presence. Not wanting them to worry, you did your best to seem energized every time you were joined in their conversations, inserting laughs, and adding on to the fun when needed. You felt obligated to show everyone, including Draco, that you were okay. It’s been like that ever since things ended. The entire student body was aware of the fall. Both you and the boy looked very off the day after it happened. However, slowly but surely, you had reverted back to your sunny self, surprising many of those around you. Only you knew that it was a facade though, and that deep down inside, you still pined for the ghost of your relationship.

Your thoughts often drifted to him. He was sat in the Slytherin table with his usual group of friends. As you took small glances at him, you wondered what went on in his mind, how he felt about you, and whether or not he misses what you had shared with him. You wondered if he took notice of the energy you conveyed, if he noticed the smile that was plastered on your face now that you weren’t together. Was he convinced with your little charade?

You broke your gaze from him the moment he turned his focus to your direction. Not wanting to get caught, you chimed into their conversation once more, a convincing smile of enjoyment on your lips. Once you felt that enough time had passed, you discretely glance at him again, only to have your eyes meet ever so slightly. The time for your classes to start was drawing near. Wanting to be alone in your own thoughts, you left them to walk around.

The hallways you roamed in taunted you as you began to recall, once again, figures of your memories. A warm feeling rose in your chest as you relished the small moments of laughter, playful kisses, and the heart-racing sensation of the back hugs he gave. It was ironic, but reminiscing helped you cope. Perhaps it was the thought of another chance. At the same time, however, you couldn’t deny that it might’ve been the result of the fear of moving on. You sighed, allowing your mind to push away the harshness of the latter. ‘Today will be a good day. I’ll make sure of it.’ With the feeling of encouragement overcoming you once again, you set off to your first class with a new sense of optimism. You weren’t sure about how long the feeling would last, but now that you had it, there was no point in taking it for granted. After all, as long as you were alive, the Earth would still continue to turn, and your commitment to reconstructing your life blazed on.

The fluctuation between sadness and inspiration was a common occurrence in this point of your life. There were nights that felt completely agonizing, but there were also moments where you felt as though you were slowly falling in love with your life and the potential that it holds. It was then that you felt such enlightenment had brought you raw joy and peace. No masks or facades. No fake smiles. These were found in very minuscule fragments throughout the day. It took the form of the sense of concentration that you had when you studied, the feeling of achievement when you understood a difficult concept. It also embodied the scent of rain when it pours, the cold air that accompanies the sunrise, the sight of bookshelves in the library, the blissful feeling of getting lost in muggle literature. Joy was found in the sounds of the crackling fire, a satisfied belly after a good dinner, as well as the company of friends who have seen you at your worst. You were enchanted by the thought of filling your life with these wholesome moments--to take control and be the artist as you paint such details into your canvas. Sometimes such joy became so overwhelming that the heartache you felt seemed nonexistent.

‘How nice would it be to share it with you, though.’ You thought of him.

And perhaps you would be able to one day; but for now, within the sadness you were beginning to embrace this new love. A love that surpassed the borders of romantic affections.

Draco’s words would ring in your mind whenever you thought of this. You would create scenarios in your head, formulating what you would’ve said to him that night with all the newfound wisdom you had now.

“I thought I knew what love was when I was with you also. However, I can now see the pieces of my true love. How it surrounds me whether you’re by my side or not.” You said to yourself, wrapping yourself in hope as you amount to build your own palace once again.

A/N: I might make a second part to this to show Draco’s view on Y/N’s growth, but we’ll see hehe! I hope that moments of peace and bits of joy make their way to you no matter how hard life may become. You’re all deserving of love <3 Thank you so much for reading, and I hope you have a great day!

#draco malfoy #draco malfoy imagines #draco malfoy x y/n #draco malfoy x reader #draco x reader #draco malfoy x you #harry potter #harry potter fanfiction #draco malfoy fanfiction #hogwarts #slytherin

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chromosome23hq · 3 years

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august 11th, 1997, 6:05 am, silverhouse apartments

One fine morning, with a mug of coffee in one hand and a watering can in the other, Billie Foster was not prepared for the crack of a gun to kick her into a vision. A crowd. A masked figure. Mayor Peter Webber, now with a hole in his forehead. So many lives altered in one fell swoop that the crowd overwhelmed her. A small stampede had Billie stumbling back into her apartment. Coffee in her monstera and water soaking her feet. She didn't get a chance to see anymore details, only a masked figure and an untimely death.

It’s not something Billie can just ignore, especially when it comes to the death of a public figure, much less the mayor. She needed to tell someone, an officer of some sort who can protect the mayor from anything. It’s when she remembers them, the Omegas. It’s a part of their job description to protect the weak and innocent, which includes the mayor. A heavy and deep sigh leaves between her lips. This is not how she wanted to start her morning.

august 14th, 1997, 11:45 am, somewhere in the city

This has to be the most boring protection assignment in the world. For the past few days, all Yazmín Navarro Montes’ (also known as Siren) done is escort Mayor Peter Weber everywhere to defend him against an assassination threat. He still has his bodyguards, but extra cushion with Yazmín here, as Prism described it. Of course, it’s unspoken that this also works as great publicity. She had wanted nothing to do with it, which meant Prism had to pick her for this. Her luck always worked that way. Today, she’s starting to wonder if this threat was real at all, or a phony stunt to benefit the mayor and the Omegas. There’s been no suspicious figures lingering around his office or home, no attempts, and no threats sent to him.

Still, Yazmín doesn’t slack on her job. She always has an eye out, ready to push the mayor out of the way or stop a would-be killer. They’re outside for a few minutes when something starts to bother her. There’s water everywhere she can sense, then suddenly there’s a spike. It’s nowhere near winter, but something freezing just entered the vicinity. No one stands out in the crowd, until—

Already running behind schedule after sleeping in late, Ethan Sato pays no heed to his surroundings as he cuts past a gentleman on his journey to class. He’s cursing himself internally, vowing for the umpteenth time to start going to bed earlier, when his internal monologue is drowned out by a wave of terror. Ethan stops in his tracks, his heartbeat thundering, panic squeezing down on his chest. Breathe, he needs to breathe. He takes in one, shuddering breath, knowing that this—whatever this is—isn’t his, then turns around and he sees—

“Oh, my God.” He claps his hand over his mouth. Behind Ethan is the Mayor, haloed by his own blood as he lays on the footpath. It takes Ethan a solid minute to process what he sees, what he feels, before he scrambles backwards, yelling, “Help! Somebody help!”

As soon as his co-worker had walked in, Jaewon Oh had scampered off for his break. An entire hour away from inane questions was exactly what he needed. Deciding to take a stroll to his favorite nearby coffee shop was done automatically, he ate there almost everyday. Unfortunately for him, his hour was coming to an end and so he made his way back with an extra sandwich in his hand.

He was contemplating whether or not he could get away with leaving the store early when he saw it. Or, rather, them. A person in a mask appeared seemingly out of nowhere and Jaewon, curious, watched as they walked ahead of him with purpose. something about this didn’t feel right, he wasn’t sure exactly what was going on but there was a sinking feeling in his gut.

Should he do something? No, yes? He was just about to shake off the feeling, not wanting to get involved in business that wasn’t his own, when he saw a man ahead of him go down. It took him a moment to register that it was the mayor and said mayor had just been shot. The masked figure was running and Jaewon watched, frozen to his spot, as they did so. On the sidewalk ahead of him the mayor lay dying, the particles of energy around him turning a meek gray as the life left him.

Jaewon took several steps back and pressed himself against a storefront, brows furrowed. it couldn’t have been a normal bullet, a gun going off was loud. this had been too quiet. suspicion rose in him, humans could quiet a gun, sure, but not to that extent. could … could it have been a mutant? Jaewon looked back at the scene that was now filled with people, all as terrified as they were shocked, and wondered. It certainly seemed like a possibility. shit, he’d just witnessed the mayor getting shot, the mayor being killed. Soon enough police sirens would echo down the street and detectives would go looking for bystanders. Not wanting to be questioned, he quickly walked in the opposite direction and stewed in his own theories.

Sitting on the stairs of a building that had been ‘under construction’ for five years now (he’d been keeping track of time—the crew seemed to have abandoned it), David Castillo withdrew his flask and took a swig, eyeing the passersby—trying to find who best to focus on. Woman with the dog thinking about how the groomers screwed her poodle’s nail polish up completely? (he didn’t agree, they looked marvelous)—she walked by too fast. Man with the shirt that read ‘D.A.R.E - to keep kids off drugs’ and was already thinking about that sweet weed he would score later? Also too fast.

That was the only problem with a staircase in the middle of an ‘under construction’ type of place!

Voices swirling around, from those thinking about their affairs to those thinking about their loyal spouses, he shook his head viciously.

And then a strong voice emerged.

Strong emotion.

Strong passion.

Strong thought.

‘Got ‘em.’

Followed by screams—real ones.

And a silence. Even amongst the screams... a silence.

It’s too late.

There’s barely any noise between the mayor standing in front of Yazmin, and dropping to the ground. Blood is everywhere. Some of it’s even on her suit, her hands. She had bent down to hold the wound without thinking, before realizing it’s all too late.

There’s people running away in the crowd, and that’s how she knows the shooter isn’t far ahead. She’s running before the bodyguards do, head going through anyway she could to slow them down. Every option can lead to civilian injuries or worse. Shit! Yaz speeds up, water rising from her side pouch and striking out toward the assailant’s ankle as they round the corner. It misses by an inch.

As she enters the alley, she sends a dozen sharp edged droplets at the wall with a yell for them to stop. But no one’s there. The only evidence that remains is a spray painted symbol.

august 17th, 1997, 5:34 pm, ramer cemetery

Peter Webber is found dead on sight. Upon inspection, they’re unable to find a bullet but water is found. Because of Yazmín’s ability and past criminal record, the suspicion falls onto her. Banks and schools are closed early that day, and remain that way until the funeral. National news channels cover it nearly twenty-four seven, wondering how the mayor of one of the most prominent cities in America was shot in broad daylight and by who. All channels in New York cut into their current programming to broadcast the funeral, from the funeral home to the drive to the cemetery. Crowds line the streets during the procession to show their love for the beloved mayor, as well as grieve his loss and the loss it is to the city. His children and wife thank those for being there with them through this difficult time. The vice mayor, who was sworn in days before, tells the city they’ll get through this together and follow the vision Mayor Peter Webber had.

august 18th, 1997, 9:30 am, new york city hall

This isn’t the first time that Han-Byul Song (also known as Prism) stands surrounded by cameras, microphones, and journalists waiting for what he has to say. But he can say that it’s the first time dealing with them like this. Individuals who once looked at him as if he was like them, now they see him as something else. It doesn’t sit right with him, none of this sits right with him. However, he’s a professional and never the type to let someone see him when he’s at his lowest. With a straightened back and squared shoulders, Han-Byul begins his statement.

“Ladies and gentlemen of the city, my name is Prism and as you all know, I’m the current leader of the Omegas. We are tasked with protecting the lives of the innocent, both mutants and non-mutants. Recently, we were given the mission to watch over and protect Mayor Peter Webber, sending one of our own to act as one of his bodyguards.” His eyes fall on Yazmín, the young mutant standing beside him with a cold stare and a rigid body. “Despite our best efforts to protect the mayor, we—” Failed. The words fall from his tongue but it doesn’t feel like he’s the one saying it. He can see the questions that are ready to leap out of their mouths, the hunger in their eyes, beasts. They were all beasts. “However, this doesn’t mean that our mission ends here. We’re now undergoing an investigation to look for and capture the person behind this. Once we find this individual, we’ll bring justice to all of you but also Mayor Webber.”

There are questions, lots of them, and he answers, some of them. There isn’t enough or maybe that’s what he tries to tell himself as Yazmín takes his place to read over her apology. He’s listening but also not, he’s mainly just watching her and the crowd. Even though she was there acting as a bodyguard, she’s a suspect. Just because of her ability, just because she’s a mutant, just because they needed a scapegoat.

OOC INFORMATION:

Mayor Peter Webber died on August 14th, 1997 and his funeral was held on the 17th. Various radio talk shows and news articles report on his death. Your muse can react however they want to this!

The masked killer is Daichi Kato (played by Admin Kashia). No muse is aware of him killing the mayor, outside of Magneto. Yazmín is under the suspicion of partaking.

This marks the true beginning of The Brotherhood showing themselves to everyone, which also means they’re recruiting people in. Your muse has the decision to join them but be aware of the true purpose of The Brotherhood! The spots are unlimited.

If you play a Xavier student or staff member, things will be tense as Charles plans on what to do next.

And that’s the way the pussy crumbles.

#c23plotdrop #murder cw #death cw #murder tw #death tw

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howtosingit · 4 years

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Fic: Sometimes Things Just Fall Apart

TK comes home to a dark, silent house, no dog to greet him at the door, and a husband laying in bed, still dressed in his work uniform; it’s anything but normal.

Written for @tarlosweek2020 - Day 2: “It’s okay to cry” + Comfort

2.1K | Also on AO3.

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The house feels cold and empty when TK gets home from work.

It’s unsettlingly, considering the Strand-Reyes household is pretty much always bright and bursting with energy. Usually when he walks through the door, he’s met with the furry hurricane of a golden retriever, who tries to tackle him with kisses before he even slips out of his shoes. When Carlos beats him home, TK usually finds him in the kitchen, music playing and smells permeating the space as his husband prepares dinner for the two of them. He always slips in next to Carlos to claim his customary “thank you for being safe at work and coming home to me” kisses - one pressed to his forehead and one to his lips - before grabbing a bottle of water from the fridge and sitting at the island so that they can fill each other in on their workdays.

None of that greets TK when he walks through the door today. There isn’t a single light on, and no Max to greet him with slobbery kisses. He knows Carlos is home, having pulled alongside the Camaro in the garage. He calls out as he slips off his shoes, but no one answers. A chill runs through TK when he spots Max’s leash hanging by the door, a feeling of dread coursing through him as he takes in the stark, uninviting kitchen to his left, and the equally uninhabited living room to his right.

TK cuts through the house, heading for the stairs, his heart beating heavier with each step as he searches for his husband. His mind is spinning with possible explanations, wondering what might have happened at work for Carlos to bring it home with him. TK knows that Carlos does everything he can to not let his job seep into their home, a discipline that TK has also worked to strengthen in himself. It doesn’t mean that they don’t talk about the hard days, but usually when they happen, Carlos will text him when he’s off work and they’ll spend the evening out, either at a park or seeing a movie or getting dinner. Anything to purge the pain of their work before they go to bed for the night. It’s not a perfect system, but they’ve made it work for them, and the fact that Carlos has broken the expected routine shakes TK to his core.

His fear increases when he steps onto the second-floor landing and hears no sounds from the bathroom. He wondered if Carlos may have been in the shower and not heard him when he called, but that idea dies in the continued silence. He continues forward to their bedroom, pushing against the ajar door to peer inside. His breath steals from his chest at what he finds.

Laying on the bed, back-to-back, are his two guys. Max looks up at him from his side of the bed, a concerned look on his face. The fact that he makes no move to greet him tells TK all that he needs to know. His husband lays on the far side of the bed, his back to the door, and TK notices that he’s still fully-dressed in his uniform, shoes and duty belt included. It’s such a jarring sight that TK freezes before he can even take a step into the room.

“Carlos?” he says softly, his voice carrying across the stiff silence in the room like a siren scream. There’s no movement from his husband, and TK wonders if he might be asleep. Max turns his head to nudge against the back of Carlos’s neck, a soft whine escaping him; TK feels his heart break.

He moves quietly, circling around the foot of the bed to stand in front of Carlos. He’s shocked to find his eyes open, the brown irises that are usually filled with love and warmth unnervingly blank as they stare straight ahead at the far corner of the room. His husband makes no indication that he’s even noticed him.

TK slowly sinks to his knees, bringing them face-to-face. Carlos continues to stare through him, his expression an unchanging mask. “Hey, you,” TK whispers, a forced smile forming on his face as he tries to get any sort of reaction out of his husband. It’s not until he brings a hand up to delicately grip Carlos’s wrist that his husband finally notices his presence.

It’s sudden, a visible shiver running down his entire body as his eyes blink warily, his pupils dilating as they shift to focus on TK. The moment their eyes meet, TK watches as Carlos’s eyebrows furrow in distress, the crease between them intensifying dramatically. He feels his heart split open in his chest, Carlos’s obvious pain stabbing him like a dozen knives. They’ve been that way since they first started dating, so completely linked that their emotions sometimes blend together into something they both carry for one another.

TK leans forward, pressing their foreheads together. “I’m right here, okay?” he murmurs, shifting to touch his lips to Carlos’s cheek. He feels his husband shake beneath him as an uneven sigh escapes his lips. “Can we take off your uniform? You can’t be comfortable, babe.”

There’s a pause as TK stays close, waiting for Carlos to respond. When he does, with a silent nod, TK presses another kiss to his skin before pulling back to stand up.

It’s a slow process, but he doesn’t care. He gets Carlos into a sitting position, and item-by-item he undresses his husband, starting with his belt and shoes. He notices that Carlos’s gun is missing and he’s relieved to know that, despite whatever happened today, his husband wasn’t out of it enough to not put his firearm in the safe. As each article of clothing is removed, TK presses a soft kiss to Carlos’s exposed skin.

His husband, usually so large and physically imposing but now so small and reserved, stares up at him as he completes his task. Finally, Carlos is left only in his boxer briefs and undershirt, and TK quickly undresses down to the same before taking his husband’s hand and pulling him to lay back down on the bed, this time the two of them laying face-to-face. He notices that Max has moved to his own bed in the corner, happy to let TK take over as caregiver now that he’s home.

“Thank you,” Carlos breathes out, his first words striking hard after such a heavy absence. They’re close enough that TK can feel his breath on his face, and he takes a moment to rub their noses together, bringing a hand up to run his fingers along Carlos’s jaw.

“Of course,” TK responds just as quietly, a sad smile pulling at his lips. “Do you want to tell me what happened?”

TK is relieved when Carlos immediately nods, though he says nothing at first.

“I’m here when you’re ready, okay? Take your time,” he confirms, scooting closer to press their bodies fully together. He stares into Carlos’s eyes, watching as his usually warm brown irises swim with tears that refuse to fall. He’s terrified, having no idea what could’ve happened for Carlos to react like this, his mind supplying the absolute worst-case scenarios. Then, suddenly, as if he’s dragging the words through his throat from his core, Carlos stutters out just two words.

“Maureen called.”

TK’s brain stops short, every explanation that his brain had been expecting vanishing into thin air at Carlos’s response. He feels like he’s been shut inside of a walk-in freezer, every inch of his body erupting in one long, chilled-to-the-bone shiver. Through the roaring in his ears, he hears himself let out a stuttering gasp. He can feel a prickle at the corner of his eyes as his mind pieces together Carlos’s behavior with news from Maureen, and he closes them before a tear can fall, trying to take a deep breath to calm down.

They’ve been struggling through the process of adopting a child for almost a year and a half, cycling through stages of hope and grief almost daily. They were warned, multiple times, that adoption was a complicated and long journey towards starting a family, especially as gay men in Texas with high-risk jobs. Nothing could’ve prepared them for the pain of getting a little closer each time before it all came crashing down with a single call from Maureen, their adoption counselor.

“It’s okay to cry, Ty,” his husband says, a hand coming up to caress his cheek. TK, suddenly overwhelmed, feels his face crumble as a laugh-sob crawls up his throat.

“You stole my line,” he chokes out, opening his eyes again to find Carlos staring at him through his own tear-filled eyes. “Why didn’t you call me, sweetheart?”

“I missed her call,” Carlos explains, his voice thick with emotion, “and couldn’t reach her until I was on my way home. I didn’t want to ruin the end of your day, too.”

This is the third time they’ve actively pursued an adoption opportunity; the previous two times, they did everything they could to remain realistic, reaching a point where they wouldn’t talk to anyone else about it. They’re not superstitious, exactly, it’s just that the more they talk about it, the more they plan and consider what life will be like with a child. They got even further this time, and maybe dared to hope too much. TK watches as Carlos continues to grieve for the lost children they’ll never have, and it breaks his heart every time.

“It kills me to think of you dealing with this alone,” TK worriedly admits, pulling Carlos closer. His husband shifts to press his face in TK’s neck, his favorite place to be, and TK grips him tighter as he feels Carlos shake with new sobs.

“I really thought it was going to happen this time,” he cries softly, TK feeling his tears finally fall onto his neck. He squeezes his own eyes shut, his own tears falling as he presses his face into Carlos’s dark curls.

“Me too, baby. Me too.”

“What if it never does?” Carlos questions after a moment, and TK can tell by the tone of his voice that he’s voicing his greatest fear out-loud for the first time.

“Hey,” TK hedges, pulling back to take his husband’s face in both hands. He stares into those deep brown eyes and knows that he would give anything to bring back their unmatched warmth. “You, Carlos Strand-Reyes, are going to be a dad, okay? Your heart is so big, your love is so strong, and I know that you’re meant to share it with someone who will admire you as much as I do. Someone that you and I will raise and love and adore more than anyone else on this earth. That’s our story, Carlos, that’s what we decided, and just because we haven’t gotten to that chapter, it doesn’t mean we’re going to rewrite it, okay? It’ll happen when it’s meant to happen, I know it will.”

Carlos just stares at him when he goes quiet, his bottom lip quivering as his eyes glisten with fresh tears.

“I love you, Ty,” he gasps, pressing in to claim TK’s lips with his own. It’s a hard, desperate kiss, full of the lingering grief and sudden emptiness that the day has brought, but like every kiss they share, it’s also filled with overwhelming love and comfort, the kind that only they can provide to one another.

When they break apart, Carlos presses their foreheads together. “You’re going to be the best dad in the world, you know that?” he whispers, nudging their noses together.

“I’m not so sure,” TK laughs gently, pressing a quick kiss to his husband’s lips, salty from their tears. “You’ll probably have me beat.”

“I’m serious, Ty,” Carlos presses further, his tone making that clear. “The way you take care of all of us, the way you care for me… I can’t wait to see you with our child. It’s going to be breathtaking.”

“How about a tie then?” TK relents, a smile growing on his lips. “You and me, Best Dads in the World.”

“That’ll be one lucky kid,” Carlos laughs, wrapping his arms around TK’s waist.

TK feels his heart clench in his chest as he watches his husband’s eyes crinkle, their familiar warmth gradually reappearing.

“You have no idea,” TK agrees, tightening his grip on Carlos, their closeness like a salve for their mutually broken hearts.

In each other’s arms, they begin to heal.

#tarlos #tarlos fic #tarlos fanfic #911 lone star #tarlosweek2020 #tk strand #carlos reyes #I wrote a thing

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mikauzoran · 3 years

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Marichat/Adrienette: Serendipity: Fifty Marichat and Adrienette Kisses: Kiss Fifty

Read it on AO3: Serendipity: Fifty Marichat and Adrienette Kisses: ...out of love.

“Stop moving around so much,” Plagg grumbled as he snuggled up against the crook of Adrien’s neck.

“Leave him alone,” Trixx admonished groggily, burrowing further into the nest he’d made out of Adrien’s hair. “He’s got a lot on his mind; it’s no wonder he can’t sleep.”

“Thinking about the wedding tomorrow and how you’re going to smooch the love of your life in front of all of your friends and family?” Plagg snickered, giving Adrien’s shoulder a playful nip.

“Thinking about how Marinette is making the biggest mistake of her life,” Adrien snorted, twisting his engagement ring round and round on his finger, watching the EKG heartbeat-like line as it dipped and soared around the center of the band.

“Don’t say that,” Plagg commanded, flying up to stare Adrien down with a scowl.

Adrien shrugged, avoiding Plagg’s gaze. He pulled off the ring and looked at the inscription on the inside of the band: Home. Love. Family. Forever.

“She could do better,” he muttered.

“But she picked you,” Trixx reminded softly, petting Adrien’s hair.

“You’re just psyching yourself out,” Plagg diagnosed. “Stop fretting, Kid. Go to sleep, and things will look brighter in the morning. You’ll marry your girl, have a big party with lots of tasty food, and everything will be alright.”

Adrien hummed noncommittally in response, closing his eyes in order to make another attempt.

Fifteen minutes later, when Adrien was still tossing and turning, Plagg gave a resigned sigh. “Okay. Clearly, this isn’t working. Let’s go for a run and burn off some of your nerves.”

Adrien gave a mirthless chuckle, turning onto his side to gaze at Plagg melancholically. “Man, I must be pretty bad if you’re volunteering your services so willingly.”

Plagg rolled his eyes, waving away the suggestion. “You’re just driving me nuts, and I want to get some sleep. Think of this as a wedding present.”

“Plagg’s really a big softie,” Trixx chortled, tail flicking mischievously. “He just doesn’t want anyone to know, so he puts on the obnoxious, slothful act.”

“Hush, you,” Plagg hissed, his own tail giving an annoyed twitch. “There’s no acting about my sloth. I really am this lazy, thank you very much.”

“I’d believe it,” Adrien snickered, the laughter breaking through his glum mood. “All right. Let’s go for a run. I guess it can’t hurt anything. Plagg, transform me.”

He spent the first ten minutes or so of his run aimlessly leaping from rooftop to rooftop, dodging antennas and hopping over chimney stacks, seeing how fast he could go in an attempt to burn off some energy and tire himself out.

He soon got bored of that, however, and decided to make his way to the Eiffel Tower, a site of various special moments including the time five years prior when Marinette had arranged a picnic and told him that she loved him for the first time.

He bounded to the top of the tower, flying from girder to steel girder until he found himself at the pinnacle of the monument.

Surprisingly, he wasn’t alone.

Marinette’s eyes widened at her partner’s unexpected arrival, but then a warm smile stretched across her lips and all the way up to her eyes. “Good evening, Chaton. What a lovely coincidence meeting you here.”

“Likewise, My Ladylove,” he chuckled, giving her a supernova grin in return. “Though, I think it’s more morning than evening at this point.”

She shrugged, motioning for him to join her.

“Aren’t you cold?” he couldn’t help but ask as he came to stand beside her at the railing, observing her thin, cotton pyjamas and little cardigan that couldn’t be keeping out the slightly chilly breeze. “It’s kind of nippy up here.”

Marinette shook her head as she gazed out at the city sprawling before her. “I like it, actually. It makes me feel alert. I won’t stay up here untransformed long, though, so don’t worry.”

He slipped his arm around her, pulling her into his side to share a little of his warmth. Despite what she said, he could see her beginning to shiver.

“Do you mind me asking what a pretty girl like you is doing all by your lonesome in a place like this at this time of night, or is that being too forward?” he inquired playfully, giving his eyebrows a waggle.

Lightly, she slapped his arm, shaking her head. “I couldn’t sleep. I just had a lot on my mind, so…”

“…Like…what?” he tentatively pressed, the teasing tone gone from his voice now as he wondered if her head was filled with worries like his.

She shrugged. “How everything’s going to be different after tomorrow and how I don’t think I’m ready. Like…we’ll be officially moving in together, and what if the kitchen faucet starts leaking?”

Chat blinked and began to open his mouth to tell her that the building supervisor took care of upkeep and things like that, but she spoke again before he could, her worries snowballing and carrying her away with them.

“I don’t know how to fix a leaky faucet,” she reported anxiously. “I know you call someone, but Maman and Papá are always the ones to arrange for things like that, and I don’t even know how they find the person, so…and there’s grocery shopping and paying bills and keeping the apartment tidy and making all of our own meals and starting a family, and what am I going to do if the kids get sick?” she gasped as if suddenly realizing that this was an important issue that she had failed to attend to.

Chat had to smile at her penchant to get way ahead of herself.

“Don’t worry, Princess,” he cooed, leaning in to press a comforting kiss to the outer shell of her ear. “We’ll figure it out. I mean, we could always call your parents if we have questions, but I’ve been living on my own for almost four years now, and I haven’t died yet, so…I think, whatever comes our way, we can take it on together. We’ve proven ourselves to be a great team over and over again. This is just one more thing where we’ll have to pool our strengths and figure it out together…right?”

Slowly, she started to nod as she absorbed his words.

Her worry receded as she called to mind all the other times they seemed to be facing down unbeatable odds together. They had always made it out so long as they fought side to side, so why should surviving adulthood be any different?

“You’re right,” she realized, her easy smile coming back as she leaned into him, wrapping her arms around his torso. “We can do this…. Thanks for talking me down.”

“Any time you need it,” he promised, catching the top of her head in a quick, affectionate kiss.

There was a comfortable moment where they stood there together, looking out at their city and enjoying each other’s solid, grounding presence, before Chat Noir tentatively spoke up.

“…Want to come back to the apartment with me and snuggle?” he inquired sheepishly, a light pink blush peeking out from underneath his mask and coloring his cheeks. “I don’t want you to go, but I don’t want to keep you out either,” he confessed. “I know it’s the middle of summer, but the breeze really is chilly up here, and I don’t want you getting sick.”

“Alright,” she chuckled, easily giving in. “I don’t really feel like going our separate ways either. Carry me? For old times’ sake?” She gazed up at him, batting her eyelashes prettily.

He laughed as he effortlessly scooped her up. “As my Princess commands.”

She held on tight as he bounced back across the rooftops towards the apartment that they would soon officially share.

He let them in through his bedroom window and set her down on the bed, releasing his transformation as he attacked her neck with playful kisses.

Marinette giggled and squirmed as his nips and licks tickled her.

He stopped before long and pushed himself up on his elbows to gaze down at her in adoration as her chest heaved in her attempt to catch her breath.

Her dazzling smile lit up the dim, moonlit room, and she reached up to play with his hair, brushing it out of his eyes and twisting it around her fingers.

She lifted her head to ghost her lips against his and then lowered back down onto the bed, laughing.

“What?” he wondered softly.

“I’m happy,” she explained, smiling wider.

“Me too,” he whispered, leaning in to nuzzle her ear.

“Good,” she hummed contentedly. “So…what were you doing out for a run? Couldn’t sleep?”

He stiffened, knowing she would scold him if she knew why he’d been worrying. “Yeah,” he replied cagily. “Just a lot of stuff on my mind. You know.”

She took his face in her hands to make him meet her eyes. “Anything I can help with?”

He shook his head, averting his gaze as best as he could. “Nah, not really. It’s just silly things. I’m just being silly.”

“It’s not silly if you’re worried about it,” she patiently reminded. “I mean, I was keeping myself up fretting about how to fix a leaky faucet and what to do if our future hamster gets sick, so…whatever you’re worrying about, it can’t be any more ridiculous than my worries. Talk to me. Let me see if I can help you like you helped me earlier. We are a team after all…right?”

How could he argue with that?

With a tired sigh, he turned to meet her gaze, confessing shamefacedly, “I was fretting about what a big mistake you’re making by marrying me.”

She blinked at him uncomprehendingly. “Wait. What? Adrien, what are you talking about?” Her eyes narrowed in concern as she stroked his face comfortingly.

“You could find someone better, Marinette,” he explained as if reluctant to inform her yet duty-bound to make sure she understood all of her options. “I’m sure there’s someone out there better suited to you, and I don’t want to trap you in this relationship with me knowing that—”

“—Adrien, stop,” she commanded gently, pushing them both up to sitting.

He looked at her searchingly. “But—”

“—No,” she firmly interrupted. “Okay. Maybe you’re right that some guy exists out there who would be completely perfect for me in every way, but you know what?”

He cocked his head to the side listening carefully.

“I don’t want him,” she declared resolutely. “I don’t want a perfect life with a perfect partner where everything is always easy and effortless.”

“You…don’t?” He blinked at her, baffled.

“I don’t,” she confirmed. “Adrien, one of the things I treasure most about our relationship is the hard parts, the times when we’ve really struggled to make it work, the things we’ve overcome together. I love that we’ve come together as a team time and again and that we’ve made it through and are still standing after all of that,” she stressed.

“That’s why I calmed down about all the stuff I was worried about when you reminded me that we’d take on whatever problems came up together. I believed you because we’ve gotten through apocalypses together before, so I know we can do it again. We’re tougher because of all the garbage we’ve been through,” she cooed squeezing his hand.

He squeezed back, unable to find his voice to reply.

“Why would I ever pick some seemingly perfect guy over you?” she continued to obliterate his fears, shaking her head at his ever having doubted. “They say you don’t really know a person until you’re buried up to your neck in crap together,” she chuckled at the memories, and he couldn’t help but grin at the past catastrophes that were now comic. “I know you, and you know me, and I know I can count on you no matter what. I wouldn’t trade our partnership for anything, Adrien.”

He nodded, seeing now how ridiculous his worries had been.

“You are the one I want…” She gave his hands another firm squeeze. “…rough edges and all…because your rough edges line up with mine, and I don’t think I could find anyone more perfect for me if I tried.”

He blinked back tears at that, completely overwhelmed by a raging cocktail of emotions. Far too many people had looked at him and declared him perfect without ever knowing about the dark, ugly parts inside of him. Yet, here she was, fully cognizant of the insecurities and the faults, declaring him perfect for her because of the ways in which he was broken.

“Maybe on the surface other people might look better,” she conceded, looking him full in the face and giving him a smile full of acceptance and love. “but you and I have been through fire together, and I know we can make it out on the other side in one piece, so…don’t doubt yourself. You’re the only one I’ve ever wanted fighting by my side and having my back…whether that’s battling akumas or changing diapers or paying the bills or succeeding in our careers. You’re the one I love, and you’re the one I want to marry, Adrien.”

With a wordless sob, he pulled her into him, squeezing her close and pulling her down onto the bed beside him so that he could bury his face in her neck.

She wrapped her arms around him, holding him together as he let it all out.

“Shh,” she coaxed. “It’s okay.”

He trembled, overcome by joy and relief and all-encompassing warmth.

“Did you like that little preview of my vows?” she chuckled fondly as she pet his hair.

“You’re going to make me cry tomorrow,” he choked, lifting his head to kiss her cheek. “Thank you.”

“Any time you need it,” she repeated his earlier promise, meaning it wholeheartedly. She knew he had always struggled with self-worth and didn’t always believe that he deserved love and good things, so she had sworn to herself always to build him up and support him.

“I’ll text Alya to remind Nino to have tissues on hand,” she added as an afterthought.

“Please,” he whimpered, loosening his hold on her to shift into a comfortable snuggling position. “I’m going to be a mess tomorrow.”

“You’ll still look gorgeous with tears and snot dripping down your face. Don’t worry,” she assured, breaking away to pull down the covers.

Reluctantly, he got up so that they could settle in for sleep.

Marinette arranged herself comfortably and then motioned for Adrien to snuggle in, resting his head on her shoulder, an arm and a leg draped lightly across her.

Fifteen minutes later, just when Marinette was starting to doze off, Adrien spoke in a timid, quiet voice.

“Are you sure you don’t have any regrets about never dating anyone else?”

His vulnerable tone banished the fog of sleep.

“I’m sure,” she responded decidedly. “I don’t need to date anyone else because I wouldn’t be able to fully be myself with anyone but you. You really know me, both sides of me, the good and the bad, so you’re the only one I can truly be the real me with. You’re not trapping me, Adrien; you’re setting me free. You were always right about revealing our identities. Being able to be myself around you without the masks and the secrets and the lies keeps me sane. Knowing that my partner really gets it makes all the stress and the strain bearable…and I wouldn’t have that with anyone but you. Go to sleep, My Love. You’re stuck with me.”

“Okay,” he chuckled softly, leaning in for a gentle, reassuring kiss. “I’d be overjoyed to be stuck with you for many, many years to come.”

“Same,” she hummed happily, nuzzling his hair and running her hand up and down his back soothingly until they both drifted off to sleep.

The End

#Adrinette #Adrienette #Marichat #Miraculous Ladybug #Miraculous Ladybug Fanfiction #Adrien Agreste #Chat Noir #Marinette Dupain-Cheng #Plagg #Trixx #Kissing #Fluff #Hurt/Comfort #Writing Prompts #Mikau's Writings #Serendipity: Fifty Marichat and Adrienette Kisses

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ironwoman18 · 3 years

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Garvez Moments part 10

I want to apologize for the long time. I had a writer block and the ideas were gone and I did not the best ideas.

Chapter 10: Honeymoon

The couple left to Peru - Lima. They took an airplane from Washington to the long travel to the south American country.

They arrived early the next day, and they were really tired and just check in and sleep a couple of hours.

Later that day they took a shower and after dinner they took a short walk just to see the hotel surrounded area.

"I never imagined to come here or even getting married" said Penelope smiling at him.

"I'm happy then.... because I want to do things we never thought we could do" He smiled and kissed her.

After that they returned to the hotel and up to their room where they slept all night long. Then at morning they got ready to the tour to Machu Picchu.

They woke up hugging each other in bed. Penelope checked her phone after removing her sleep mask "babe... it's time to get ready"

He kissed her cheek softly "I will take a quick shower and while you take yours I will go to get us breakfast"

After Luke did as he said, she got in the water and took a long shower and when he arrived she was putting on her shoes "I'm not use to wear sneakers but I don't want a broken ankle so..." she said putting on her shoes.

They ate a sandwich with coffee and later left to depart from Cusco, with pickup from your hotel and a transfer from the city center to your train station. They chose the Expedition train, the Vistadome, with glass on all sides for a better viewing.

Then they enjoyed a scenic train ride, with stunning views of the mountainous terrain that makes up the area near Machu Picchu.

They arrived in Aguas Calientes, the small village located at the base of this famous Inca site, and board a bus for the short ride to this sacred citadel.

On their way the tour guy, with a thick accent, explained "Machu Picchu was completed around 1450, when the Inca Empire was at the peak of its power and influence, the site was left vacant within 100 years of its creation, thanks to the conquest of the Inca people by the Spanish. Though the site today remains abandoned, many believe Machu Picchu to be a key center of spiritual energy..."

"I'm sure Reid would be correcting this guy or even saying facts about how they sacrificed their children to a god" said Penelope in a whisper to her husband.

"Or telling us what the name means and everything about it" they laughed softly as they imagined boy genius voice talking.

They followed their guide through the main streets of the marvel of ancient engineering. Learning about the site’s history and design as they meandered and taking photos through the town square, key religious sites, an elaborate network of agricultural terraces, and intricately-designed stone staircases.

After spending a few hours at the site, they returned by bus to the train station in Aguas Calientes and then to their chosen train for the trip back to Cusco and their hotel.

Penelope felt tired but happy. The height did not bothered as much as she thought and spending some time with her handsome husband were worth the money and the long travel.

Fourteen hours later they couple were back resting in their hotel room. The helicopter tour will be in two days so they planned to walk around, try local food and buy presents.

They spent one of those days at the pool. It was summer season in the South so the heat was perfect for the pool.

The next day they left to the airport to get aboard the helicopter.

They arrived and there was a man with black hair and tanned skin. He was wearing a blue jacket and jeans with a hat.

"Welcome to the Alejandro Velasco Astete Cusco International airport. I'm Felipe Gomez and I guess you are Luke and Penelope Alvez?"

They both nod "nice to meet you Felipe, I guess you are Dave's friend right?" Said Luke smiling.

"Yeah I am" he smiled "he booked this flight for you as a present for you as a wedding gift. And I owned him a free flight" they looked at him with raised eyebrows "let's say he won a bet and one of the things included were a free flight" they laughed "today I will be your guide and Alex, my brother will the pilot. You will look Sacred Valley from up high in our helicopter" he led them to the helicopter "as FBI agents you must know the safety rules but as a law requirement I have to inform you" he took a moment to do it then they all got in and they took off.

Once in the air, they headed towards the Sacred Valley, specifically to two of the most magnificent Inca constructions: Maras and Moray.

"Ok let me tell you about the places we are going to. Maras is a salt extraction center that has been operating since the time of the Incas. It is made up of thousands of rectangular water deposits located on the side of a mountain, which together form an out-of-this-world landscape. And we will also pass over Moray, an enormous construction of concentric circles that worked as an agricultural laboratory"

The saw the Maras' white floor, there were some people walking on them and taking photos. Then the helicopter flew over Moray, a bunch of group of circles one inside the other like a football stadium.

The saw also the mountains around those two places and returned to the airport. The place was amazing and they enjoyed it.

The rest of the honeymoon was full of small tours around the city and watching more places in Cusco.

For their last night in Peru, they went to a restaurant to have dinner and the place had a dance floor so after dinner they dance some good Latin music and had fun.

"This was a lovely place and I hope we can come back because I think we missed some other historical places" she said as they walked to the hotel.

"I'm agree and spending this with you was the best" they smiled and kissed softly then arrived to the hotel to sleep and left for the airport to begin their journey back to the US.

OOooOOooOO

I hope you liked this. Next one will be the Garvez baby.

#criminal mind #garvez #luke alvez #penelope garcias

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honouraryweasley12 · 3 years

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In The Blue Light (M / NSFW)

I know this is different than what I usually write, but I had this idea and wanted to write it.

While at Shell Cottage, Ron and Hermione's relationship flourishes, but only one person truly witnesses it. On one fateful night, she gets to fully experience their love. Warning: AU/smut with Ron/Hermione and Ron/Hermione/Luna.

Also on FF.n

It had started with a nightmare.

Hermione's screams shattered the silence, the first night at Shell Cottage. Luna bolted upright and jumped out of bed, attempting to comfort her friend. Not a second later, Ron barrelled into the room, with Bill, Fleur, Harry, and Dean hot on his heels.

The blonde witch quietly backed away as Ron gathered Hermione up in his arms, gently rocking her as she cried into his chest. His whispered words and gentle touches soothed her, enough for her to lift her head and mumble an apology to the others.

After several reassurances from the group that her apologies were unnecessary, Harry and Dean returned to their makeshift beds in the living room, while Bill and Fleur lingered, exchanging looks as they watched the youngest Weasley brother.

Bill awkwardly cleared his throat. "Ron?"

"I'm not leaving her."

A flash of frustration crossed Bill's face. "It's not appropriate—"

Fleur touched him gently on his forearm, causing the words to die in his throat.

"I zink Hermione needs him here."

Ron stared imploringly at his brother, before looking back down at the exhausted girl clutching on to him.

"Fine, you can stay in here. If Mum ever hears about this, she'll have my head."

"Thank you."

After a silent moment, Fleur addressed Luna. "We can move you to Ron's bed in ze living room."

Before she could answer, Ron spoke up again, his whispered words echoing in the quiet room. "You're fine to stay here if you want, Luna. I know you haven't had a decent place to sleep in months."

"What if she has another nightmare?" Bill nodded at Hermione, who had dozed off.

Luna watched as Ron slid under the covers and cradled Hermione against him, the flush of his cheeks in Bill's wandlight evident, despite the fierce gaze of protectiveness settled onto his features.

"I don't think she will," Luna replied, giving Ron a wide smile, her large eyes shining.

He nodded in acknowledgement as he tucked the blanket around Hermione's prone form.

Fleur's hand slid down into Bill's. "Let's go to bed, my love. It's been a long day." She paused, shifting her focus to her brother-in-law. "Make sure Hermione takes those potions when she wakes up, they'll help with ze pain."

"Thanks, Fleur."

As the door closed behind them, Luna lifted her borrowed wand and recited a silencing spell on the room, before getting back into bed.

"We might need something a bit stronger than that," Ron remarked, before picking up Pettigrew's wand and firing off some of the spells they had been using around the tent.

Luna could feel the slight hum of the protections and was impressed. "That is rather advanced magic, Ronald."

He flushed again, gazing at Hermione. "Learned from the best. Thanks for trying to help her when she woke up."

"You love her, don't you?" She asked simply, as if she was asking him about the weather or his favourite colour.

A younger Ron Weasley may have sputtered or tried to deflect his feelings for the bushy-haired witch in his arms. But he couldn't deny it any longer.

"I do."

"You should tell her then. I wish I told my Dad more often."

Ron paused. "What if she doesn't—"

"She does."

Ron let out a slow breath as if he'd been holding it in for years. Perhaps he had been.

"I will. I'll tell her." Ron's weighty words hung in the air. "I want to tell her."

She glanced over and it seemed like he was deep in thought, staring up at the ceiling as Hermione slumbered on his chest.

"Good night, Ronald."

"Yeah... Good night, Luna."

~*~

A few days passed at Shell Cottage, its inhabitants all in a state of recovery. Hermione's nightmares had halted, Ron's presence the perfect medicine for her ailments. His anxious energy was palpable at dinner that night, prompting Hermione to question if he was alright. All he did was smile.

Luna could tell from the look on his face that he'd made a decision. He was going to tell Hermione. The fact that he was so confident for such a momentous revelation marked a definite change. She remembered the sad look on his face prior to his Quidditch matches and how nervous he'd been back then—this was entirely different.

As they settled down to sleep that night, they followed their usual procedures of locking the door and putting up the strong protection spells, just in case. The lights were barely out when Ron and Hermione bade Luna a good night, their nervous, haggard breathing filling the room.

They were waiting for Luna to fall asleep before proceeding. She spotted them sitting across from each other on their bed, the blue light of the moon illuminating them. Ron reached up and caressed Hermione's cheek, before tucking a strand of hair behind her ears, his motions delicate.

Luna turned and feigned sleep, settling down and masking any attempts at movement. She could feel their eyes on her back for a moment. She didn't mean to pry, but she was intrigued to see what happened.

Her mum had been a powerful witch, especially when it came to emotional magic. It was an extremely rare trait and something that had been passed down to Luna. It was why she was so perceptive when it came to the people around her. At that moment, it felt to her like their protective little bubble was crackling with wild energy.

She could hear their hushed tones and she attuned her ears to the whispers, something she'd become accustomed to doing while being held captive.

"Hermione, there's something I need to tell you. Something I've been wanting to tell you for years."

"What is it, Ron?"

He let out a deep breath. "I love you."

"I love you, too."

Luna turned quietly, but they didn't notice. She felt as though waves of heat were enveloping her, and she smiled. The intensity of their emotions overwhelmed her as tears ran down her cheeks.

She watched as they embraced, holding onto each other tightly, and she was hit by another wave, her entire body tingling.

Finally, their faces drew ever closer, the anticipation palpable. Their lips met in a tentative kiss and Luna shut her eyes tightly, basking in the power of their feelings, finally declared and reciprocated. She hadn't felt such a thing since before her mum passed and she revelled in it, surrounded and encompassed by love. She could hear them talking again as she drifted off in a state of absolute bliss.

~*~

Ron was typically gone in the morning, eager to help Bill and Fleur and not lose the privilege of staying in the girls' room every night.

It gave Hermione and Luna a chance to talk, more than they ever had.

Luna had never had many friends before, especially girls, but with everything happening at Hogwarts, the DA had grown. Aside from Ginny, Luna had found herself forging friendships with several others, including Hannah Abbott and even Lavender Brown. She was thrilled to now have this chance with Hermione.

Though she and Hermione had very different viewpoints, these morning talks really helped them both. Hermione learned about what was happening at school and beyond, and though she couldn't say exactly, Luna got the impression that Hermione, Ron, and Harry were working on something important and dangerous. She was relieved to hear her Dad was still alive to their knowledge.

As they opened up to one another, they discovered they too had several things in common, including their love for innocent creatures, their hunger for knowledge, and fear for their parents wellbeing.

"I'm so sorry we blew up your house," Hermione apologized again one morning. "We had to escape and keep up Ron's cover."

"It's rather beautiful..." Luna added thoughtfully.

"What is?"

"How much you love one another."

Hermione blushed. "Is it that obvious?"

"He told me he loved you the first night we were here."

"He did?"

Luna nodded. "I fancied Ronald as well, but I've known for years he loved you."

Hermione sputtered. "What?"

"Well, though he can be mean, he is handsome, funny, and brave. But back in fourth year, before his first match. I saw you kiss him on the cheek."

"That was just for encouragement!"

"You didn't see his face after, did you? He looked as happy as I've ever seen. Shocked, but thrilled. That's when I knew he had already given his heart away."

"Took him long enough to realize it."

"It seems that boys can be rather daft sometimes." Luna leaned in, as if revealing a secret. "Too easily influenced by Whackspurts, I suppose."

Just then, the door opened and Ron poked his head in, his hair still disheveled from sleep. The two witches looked at each other and burst out laughing, much to Ron's confusion.

"Er, breakfast is on the table. I have the last of your potions ready, love."

He looked panicked for a second at the endearment that slipped out, so he turned quickly and closed the door. Hermione and Luna couldn't help sharing another fit of giggles.

~*~

Something changed that night. After they had declared their love, they had spent time talking about everything. Years of secret longing, hidden jealousies, and explanations of action and inaction could finally be shared.

It was like they needed this catharsis to move their relationship forward. Though it wasn't as intense as before, their emotional energy had still been like a warm blanket to Luna, hearing the apologies and shared kisses as they talked things through.

Now that they'd had their say, it was like a weight had been lifted. In the pale light, they reached for one another. Unsure kisses turned increasingly passionate, their whispered moans of pleasure causing Luna to shiver in delight from the sensations in the room.

She watched them snogging deeply, before Ron's mouth travelled down Hermione's neck, paying special attention to the fading scar Luna knew was there. The loving couple held each other, hands roaming as they consumed one other, sometimes slow and exploratory, sometimes hungry and desperate.

Each touch, each caress sent a shockwave of heat towards Luna. She closed her eyes and let each wave wash over her, lulling her to sleep once again.

~*~

Luna knew it was inevitable that things would move quickly between the two of them now. There was nothing holding them back.

A few nights later, their cocoon was again imbued with an energy unlike anything Luna had ever felt. The air felt thick and her mind felt hazy. As she lay in bed, she felt a whoosh of more spells being performed. This time, however, it was just around their bed, a bubble within a bubble.

She surreptitiously glanced over, only to see their bed perfectly empty. If she couldn't feel them so strongly, she never would have guessed someone was there. It was remarkable.

When she was down in that cellar, she'd spent hours asking questions and listening to Mr. Ollivander, taking in his teaching. Not only was his knowledge of wandlore incredible, but it extended to magic in general.

He'd often talk about how old magic was forgotten, yet incredibly powerful. He'd lament that people had forgotten the fundamentals about how spells worked, how intricate and fascinating they were.

One of his lessons struck her suddenly, his craggy words echoing in her mind.

"Ms. Lovegood, do you know why it's so difficult to break protective spells? Most witches and wizards nowadays think that such spells create a single barrier, and try to break them by puncturing through with a single strong effort. What they don't understand is that these spells consist of different layers. Rather than a puncture, they should try and peel away the layers, one by one until they get through. It takes far more time and effort to do it this way, but it's the only way. That is what renders defensive magic so effective."

Luna was practically shaking, their feelings incredibly strong in the room. Her curiosity, as it often did, got the better of her as she lifted her wand, reciting the incantations the old wandmaker had taught her.

She could feel each layer stripping away, until she could see them, almost as if looking at them through a slightly foggy window. Their voices were muffled, yet unmistakable.

She could see Ron laying between Hermione's legs, his long hair falling in front of his eyes. His arms were posted up, as he hovered above her, a sheen of nervous sweat shining across his bare back.

He was looking at Hermione like she was the most cherished thing he could possibly imagine.

"Are you sure, love? There's no going back after this."

Hermione's hand reached up and caressed his cheek, before combing his ginger locks out of his face.

"There is no one else I would ever want this with, Ron. Only you. I love you."

"Fuck, Hermione. You're it for me. I love you so much."

He leaned down and captured her lips, the kiss reinforcing their whispered words. The tears leaking from Hermione's eyes, staring at Ron with such immense love, shone in the moonlight.

Luna's own tears ran down her pink cheeks, in awe of the beauty she was witnessing and experiencing before her. She was buffeted by a continuous stream of raw energy, every nerve in her body vibrating.

"Please go slow, love."

"Anything you want."

Luna's conscience overrode her curiosity, and she threw up her own spell to block her vision and hearing. They deserved privacy for their first time making love.

It didn't block out the power of their coupling, and Luna could feel it in her very core. She nearly cried out—it was as if an emotional explosion had gone off. Such was the desire emanating from the bed on the other side of the room.

Luna was drenched with sweat and panting, but she felt their love, and this next step they were taking together. Her cheeks hurt from grinning, the sheer joy filling her completely as she drifted off.

~*~

The first couple of nights after they'd made love were generally the same. Luna would bid them a good night and turn away from them.

After several long minutes, she'd feel the familiar whoosh of their additional spells being cast, and she knew they had sought out an additional level of privacy.

The welcomed push of their emotions would start building, like the feeling of an upcoming thunderstorm, a tenseness in the air awaiting the inevitable.

After several more minutes of buildup, Luna would grab her wand and again wipe away a few layers, until they could both be seen and heard. It was fascinating to watch how naturally they fell into a rhythm.

Their kisses and caresses led to more frenzied snogging, until they were hastily unbuttoning buttons, the pile of clothes quickly growing on the floor.

There was such tenderness in their actions, always touching and never separating. They talked more than she would have thought, constantly reassuring and seeking permission to touch and taste.

She watched as Ron sunk deep inside Hermione, their shared moans reverberating off the protections. They were in perfect sync, in every way possible. It was like a work of art.

Luna could feel their combined feelings, a perfect match of need and want. Their love flowed around her, the gentleness and curiosity of this new phase of their relationship added a new dimension to the energy surrounding her. It was richer and more layered than ever before, as they connected on a different level.

Luna was shocked to also feel something she hadn't felt since the previous summer—arousal. It was impossible not to feel something watching them have sex before her eyes. Her breathing sped up as she watched their bodies together, before turning away. She closed her eyes and drifted off, a smile on her face.

~*~

If the days following Ron and Hermione's first time were about exploration and tenderness, it was obvious to Luna that things had now shifted toward pure lust for one another. The air crackled with energy and want, and she felt it with every fibre of her being.

It must have been difficult for the two of them to suppress their desires for so long. Desires which were now pouring out of them nightly. Desires which rendered the air thick with aching.

Ron slowly kissed down Hermione's stomach, until he reached that spot between her legs. Hermione's head was thrown back in utter ecstasy, her muffled moans heard through the half-broken spell. Hermione's fingers were delving into Ron's hair as he continued pleasuring her with his mouth.

Luna felt those pangs of arousal once again, her hips slowly rotating in time with Hermione's.

Time had been so difficult to determine when down in that cellar, she had only just realized that she'd missed her own birthday in February, her coming of age. She didn't feel any differently, even if the world regarded her as such. She had been exploring her own body for some time, but this was the first opportunity to take care of her needs since before she'd been forced to return to school.

Her pale arm slid into her pajama top, brushing against her pink nipples, her breath quick as she watched Ron's fingers grip Hermione's thighs, ravishing her. Luna pinched a hardened nub between her fingers, watching Hermione's own breasts jiggling as she arched up, screaming out her lover's name as she came.

It was a beautiful sight and sound, which caused Luna to flush. She played with her own breasts as Ron slid up and snogged his girlfriend, their tongues clashing. It was far too erotic, the heat of it blasting Luna and spiking her own desires. She slid a hand past the elastic waistband and found her slick centre.

She rubbed small circles, continuing to observe the two of them. Ron was kissing her neck, allowing her a moment of respite from what was thunderous orgasm. Hermione's chest was still rising and falling.

Ron eventually sat up and slid off the mattress, his large member bobbing obscenely in front of him as he stepped to the end of the bed. Luna's fingers pressed harder and she let out a low groan, the buzz igniting her nerves.

Hermione had turned over and sat on her knees, her face buried in her pillow under a mass of hair. She was at the perfect height for Ron to position himself behind her. He reached down and grabbed his cock, stroking it a few times. Luna's fingers were now moving quickly, waves of pleasure hitting her, the familiar feeling in her core building.

Luna's eyes were now half-closed as Ron guided himself into Hermione, his hands reaching for her hips as he pulled her to him, his groan loud and guttural as he sheathed himself deep. His thrusts started slowly, agonizingly slowly as he teased his love. As his pace increased, Luna's fingers were frantic as she ached for release.

Luna nearly cried out, holding her voice at the last second. Her hips were thrusting under her blanket now as Ron pounded into Hermione, beads of sweat dripping down his freckled chest. Hermione was screaming into her pillow as Ron truly fucked her for the first time, their lust and desire reaching new heights.

Luna's eyes shut as she shuddered on her bed, her whole body writhing as she reacted to everything—the overwhelming magic, her own body as she reached her peak, Ron's grunts as he shot his load, and Hermione's own muffled moans of satisfaction as she came for a second time.

The blonde witch's whole body went limp, in a state of satiation and peace. The smile returned to her face as she heard the other two occupants cuddle up and whisper unbridled declarations of love. She didn't have the power to even reopen her eyes as she fell asleep, content.

~*~

Luna was waiting in the dark, her back turned to Hermione's bed. She tried to quiet her breathing, her ears peeled for the familiar whoosh of the second set of defensive spells that usually accompanied a night in the shared bedroom.

She had witnessed the two of them explore their want over the past few days, their passion for one another infinite. Seeing the various positions and ways they would give and take, sometimes ever so loving, sometimes rutting and animalistic, there was no mistaking the satisfied looks on their faces. But it was nothing compared to the feelings that emanated from their bubble. Feelings which Luna found herself now craving.

Instead of the sound of a spell, she heard a distinctive click and the room was filled with a pulsing bluish light. She held her breath and waited, unsure of what was going on.

"Luna?" Hermione's voice broke the silence. "We know you're awake."

Slowly, Luna turned to face them, her large eyes blinking from the glowing orbs floating near the ceiling. Ron and Hermione were sitting together on the centre of the bed facing her own, their hands entwined.

"Is everything alright?"

Hermione picked up her borrowed wand and recited a spell, causing her bed to widen, taking up a larger portion of the small room, while Ron patted the mattress in front of them. "Why don't you come over here?"

Curious, Luna got out of bed and stepped over, her eyes glowing in the blue light. She carefully sat down in front of them, facing the brunette witch. Hermione waved the wand again, the crashing of the waves outside suddenly muted by the protective spells. The air around them shimmered for a second, and then stillness.

Hermione gave her a kindly smile, causing her to take a deep breath and relax.

"We know you've been watching us. We've known the whole time."

For someone who didn't often worry how others reacted to her, her face started in surprise. "I'm sorry, I couldn't help it." A tear fell from her eye, sliding down her cheek, her voice dropping to a whisper. "I can feel the strength of your love and it's beautiful."

Hermione turned and nodded a confirmation to Ron, before turning back to Luna. "That's what I suspected. We're not mad, not at all." She grabbed the blonde girl's hand, giving it a quick squeeze.

"We were actually wondering if you would like to join us."

Never in a million years did she ever think Hermione Granger would say those words to her. She felt Ron's larger hand gently enclose around hers, completing the circle. The love she felt radiating around her was impossible to ignore, it filled every pore of her body. She wanted to feel that connection even more so than she already had, after everything she'd been through since September.

"I... I'd like that. Are you sure you're both fine with this?"

Hermione and Ron again shared a telling look. "We are, just for tonight."

Luna nodded. "Alright."

Ron spoke up suddenly, surprising the two women. "Just one thing, Luna. I can't... I won't... You deserve to have that with someone else, someone who loves you fully, and I..."

The unspoken words hung in the air and she immediately knew why. "You love Hermione too much to ever be with anyone else completely."

Ron nodded, a look of relief passing along his features that his ramblings had been understood.

"Oh, Ron. I love you so much." Hermione leaned forward and kissed him hard, simultaneously squeezing Luna's hand in reassurance.

As they broke apart, Luna was gazing at them intently. Hermione released Luna's hand in order to bring her own up to Luna's cheek, caressing it gently. Luna closed her eyes enjoying the sensation for a moment, before a soft set of lips pressed to hers. She kissed back, her mouth opening slightly. The mattress shifted under her and she felt a hand tuck a strand of her hair behind her ear.

She deepened the kiss with Hermione as she felt a second set of lips attack her neck. She let out a moan, the sensations overwhelming her. Ron's large, warm hand slid to her back, his fingers splayed as his tongue ran up and down, stopping to worry her earlobe for a second, eliciting another groan.

Hermione broke off the kiss, causing Luna to open her eyes.

"Do you want to stop?"

Luna shook her head, her eyes wide.

Ron turned and captured Hermione's lips, as if in reassurance. Luna felt another wave of their love, amplified by the closeness they shared.

Ron pulled away and there was a moment of indecision, before he leaned forward and gently kissed Luna, his mouth widening slightly as the snog grew more heated. Hermione was squeezing her hand again, as if telling her everything was fine. She was sure the same thing was happening between Hermione and Ron.

She felt a shiver as she kissed him back, their tongues briefly touching. Hermione's hand was now running up and down her arm, her touch electric against the bare alabaster skin.

Ron pulled away and gave her a sheepish grin, which she returned, delighted. Hermione raised her hands to Ron's face and kissed him urgently, again communicating silently that she loved him. The surge of energy was almost too much for Luna, arousal a pressing need. She couldn't help but touch herself through her pajama bottoms.

Hermione spied this, motioning for the younger girl to lie down. They shifted positions so that she was between the two of them, staring at the glowing orbs hovering above.

Hermione's fingers lightly grasped her chin and turned her head, their mouths meeting again in a heated snog.

Ron's hand slid under the hem of her shirt, his heat warming her skin as he rubbed circles on her thin belly, slowly pushing the cloth further up until her small breasts were exposed. His fingers lightly pinched her tightened nipples, causing her to gasp into Hermione's mouth.

Hermione pulled away and the two helped Luna sit up and remove her top completely, her long wavy blonde locks falling behind her as she lowered herself back down to the bed, surrounded by their warmth, her eyes closed.

She felt another wave of pleasurable energy, opening her eyes to find them hovering over her, passionately kissing as if they couldn't stand to be apart for so long.

Their foreheads touched briefly as they turned their attentions back to her.

Ron leaned down, each puff of his hot breath teasing her aching chest. "Hermione seems to like it when I do this."

He lowered his mouth to her pink nipple, causing her to cry out and slide her fingers into his hair. Hermione followed his cue and did the same on her other side.

"Oh my, that's wonderful," Luna moaned. Having the two of them taking care of her was heavenly. She couldn't help but splay her legs wide open and buck up, desperately needing to feel friction.

Ron sensed this and began kissing down her belly toward her heated centre, before being stopped by Hermione.

"I... I'd like to try if you don't mind. I've had a good teacher."

Ron and Luna exchanged a look, and Luna nodded her consent. He moved back up and once again took her nipple between his teeth, gently biting it, causing Luna to yelp. He watched Hermione reposition herself between Luna's legs, before lowering her bottoms and knickers.

All they could see was a bushy head of hair, but Luna practically jumped as Hermione's mouth contacted her sensitive nub, eliciting a groan. The sound was swallowed as Ron crushed his lips to hers, their tongues rolling against one another.

Hermione's fingers were gripping her thighs, her tongue working it's magic, causing her to buck again. Ron's hands and mouth were everywhere, her skin on fire from his touch. She could feel the welcome tension building deep inside her, begging for release.

She pressed herself as closely as she could to Hermione, the brunette witch now concentrating on her clit while sliding two fingers into her, causing her to writhe.

Ron's voice rumbled in her ear as he played with her small tits, pulling and pinching and sending sparks to her core, like she had seen him do to Hermione. "Are you getting close? We want you to feel good. We want to make you come."

The coil was quickly unraveling as she nodded tersely.

Ron nibbled on her earlobe. "Come for us, Luna. Come for us."

It was all too much as she nodded again, her eyes squeezed shut.

"Now." He ordered.

"Ohhhh!" She cried out repeatedly through clipped breaths, her thighs trapping Hermione as she convulsed. Ron's arms wrapped around her as she stilled, her blonde hair matted to her forehead. Hermione joined them and gave her a moment to come down from the high.

"That was incredible. Thank you both." She glanced back and forth between them and gave them a tired but satisfied smile. "Who's next?"

Hermione grinned. "I have an idea. Ron, sit back against the headboard."

He shifted and leaned against the wood, his long legs spread out in front of him. His bulge was prominent, straining against his pants.

Hermione reached for the elastic waistband and pulled down, as Ron lifted his hips. She quickly slid off his pants, his hard cock springing forward.

Luna's eyes widened. "He's quite big, isn't he?"

Ron flushed, his chest and neck a bright pink. Hermione waggled her eyebrows at Luna. "I'm very, very lucky."

Hermione grasped his large shaft, her fingers unable to touch as she slowly stroked him. Luna watched on in fascination, both from Hermione's movements, and Ron's reactions. His eyes were half-closed, and he seemed to be holding back his need to thrust into his girlfriend's hand.

His arousal was evident by the bead of moisture at the tip. Luna leaned forward, tentatively swiping her tongue across the large head.

"Keep going, take him in your mouth. He loves that," Hermione whispered.

Ron fisted the sheets as she continued her explorations with Hermione's encouragement, first running her tongue up and down his thick shaft, then taking his hard cock past her lips, her head slowly bobbing up and down. Hermione grinned wickedly at Ron as she gently pulled Luna's long hair to the side, allowing him to not only feel, but see their friend blowing him.

"Fuck, Luna, keep going. You're fucking good at this."

His approval sent a spike of arousal through her, pushing her to stretch her lips and take even more of him down her throat. She couldn't take all of him, so she pulled away to catch her breath, stroking him as Hermione took her place and began sucking him off.

"Oh, fuck," Ron growled, staring at the two incredible girls pleasuring him. Never in his dreams was something like this a possibility. "I'm getting there."

"Wait."

Hermione lifted her head as Luna stopped wanking him, looking back and forth between them.

"I... I would very much like to see the two of you together, up close."

Ron and Hermione exchanged another look, both eager to be coupled once again. Ron slid down until he was lying flat on the bed, his cock at attention and ready. Hermione quickly moved up and reached between her legs to grasp him, positioning him at her entrance before slowly sinking down, her hands pressing down on his chest.

"Oh, Ron!"

Ron bucked at the sound of Hermione's voice, pushing himself even deeper into his love. Hermione slowly rocked, her eyes closed, establishing a rhythm as they crashed into each other, their actions growing frantic.

The emotions pouring off them were so strong that Luna couldn't help touching herself, watching their lovemaking. Ron saw this and reached for her, practically pulling her to him. He motioned for Luna to swing a leg over and face Hermione as he positioned her over his eager mouth. His fingertips pressed into her pale thighs as his talented tongue sent an electric shiver through her whole body.

Luna's moans broke Hermione out of her trance as she opened her eyes to see the blonde girl riding Ron's face as she rode his cock.

"That's... so... hot," she managed to breath out, before sharing a sloppy, hungry kiss with Luna, the triangle of their connection now complete. The girls were both crying out as the ginger man beneath them redoubled his efforts, taking care of them, as they had done for him.

Hermione was the first to go, her whole body shuddering as she pressed her forehead to Luna's and whimpered Ron's name, over and over as she came hard, but continued bouncing on him, needing to feel him let go as well.

Ron couldn't help holding Luna tighter to him, his tongue buried in her as he thrust erratically into his girlfriend, his groans muffled as he froze and pumped load after load into Hermione, perhaps the hardest he'd ever come in his life. Feeling the power of his release pushed Luna over the edge as she too let out a garbled moan and ground down onto him as she hit her peak, again kissing Hermione as she rode out her orgasm.

Exhausted, they detangled and collapsed together, Ron in the centre, his arms cradling the girls to him. Their breathing was heavy, the only sound in their bubble as they fought to slow down the pounding in their chests. No words needed to be spoken.

As she seemed to always do, Hermione's fingers drifted playfully through the curly ginger hairs on Ron's chest. He watched them rise and fall for several long minutes, the peaks and valleys eventually flattening out. Their eyes met, so full of love for one another. The blonde girl next to them started, again picking up their connection.

She opened her eyes a few minutes later and found them staring at her. She smiled and reluctantly sat up, her golden locks falling around her, the orbs above casting an angelic glow.

Her voice was quiet but filled with a sense of contentment and wonder. "Thank you both. I'll never forget this night."

"Neither will we, Luna."

Hermione grabbed her wand and lowered the second set of protections, the rhythmic swell of the sea once again audible to the three of them.

Luna leaned forward and kissed each of them on the cheek, before gathering her clothes and gliding over to her bed. After a few cleaning charms, she slid under her covers and turned away.

She could hear their soft kisses and loving words as another wave of warmth surrounded her, a smile on her face as she fell into a deep sleep.

#romione #ron x hermione x luna #ron weasley #hermione granger #luna lovegood

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allicekitty13 · 3 years

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Born To Run: Chapter 1

Mary-Alice Brandon has just returned to her hometown after an incident causing her to relocate just a year ago. Meanwhile, Jasper has become increasingly frustrated with his home life and decides to uncover just what exactly his brother had been hiding. In 1957 two people, with two drastically different personalities meet for the first time. Will their worlds clash or will they realize the only ones they can truly trust with their secrets are each other.

Read On Ao3

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Her eyes fluttered open at the prompting chime of her alarm clock currently ringing on the bedside table to her right. Mustering up as much energy as possible when one was just pulled promptly frum slumber, Alice rolled from the comfortable position on her side to lie flat on her back. Despite the powder blue clock still ringing throughout her bedroom, Alice couldn't help but to reflect on the wonderful dream she'd been having.

In the night vision, she'd been back in Paris shopping with her step-sister Kate. Being in France the past year had been like a dream come true, a much-needed break from the reality she'd been forced to return to. Kate was newly engaged and thus had decided to return home to Nevada with Alice and her fiance, Garrett, in tow.

Alice's stomach grumbled loudly and painfully, pulling her from the reminiscing session. She snapped her eyes shut tightly, attempting to ignore the alarm's offending bell and the painful ache in her stomach. Of course, it was no use; her vacation was over. It was time to come down from the clouds and return to reality. Needing to focus on one issue at a time and the alarm still prompting to her side currently being the most prominent, Alice took a deep breath accepting her fate. Summing the energy to flick the little tab on top of the clock to the off position effectively silenced the alarm blanketing the room in silence.

Willing herself to sit up fully, Alice removed the pale pink sleeping mask covering her eyes, finally greeting the day. She pulled the plush comforter away from her small body and swung her left over the mattress, placing her feet in the house slippers kept neatly next to the bed. She pulled the think pink satin robe that hung from her bedpost over her thin shoulders as she crossed the room to the window overlooking the back garden. Pulling open the lace curtains, Alice gazed down at the flowers.

It was just before dawn, her favorite time of the day. Alice reveled in the way the dim twilight touched down on the beautiful flowers and the small white iron bench she had coerced her father into placing in the middle of the lovely space. The scene was peaceful; day had started, although night hadn't quite ended. Nature reflecting how nothing was black and white; there were gray areas in everything, in everyone. Nothing like the reality she would be walking into in only a few hours.

Turning her attention back to the clock, the small teen accepted that she had been staring out the window, lost in thought for far too long. Something her step-father, whom she was meant to meet for breakfast shortly, was regularly scolding her for.

She didn't remember her biological father, and her mother rarely spoke of the man. The facts she had were that her parents had been wed young in an arranged marriage in 1938, Edgar Brandon had been drafted to join the war just two years after Alice was born. The man had gone missing in action, presumed dead.

Shortly after Alice's fourth birthday, Lilian had met a charming man by the name of Eleazar Burke. Before the year was out, the happy couple were married. Eleazar was the only father Alice had ever known. The now seventeen-year-old adored her unusual family; Kate was more than she could have ever asked for in an older sibling they, of course, fought at times but very close. While they may not be biologically related, Alice couldn't imagine a kinder, more understanding father in Eleazar. He loved all three of his daughters, including Alice, equally never playing favorites. He didn't play favorites, distributing the wealth and opportunity attached to his name evenly between the three girls.

Once she'd gotten moving, preparing for the day came like second nature. She now stood in front of the mirror with her hair and makeup done. She was fully dressed in her favorite skirt and sweater set, complete with the new petticoat she had picked up shopping with Kate over the summer. She'd been saving it specifically for her first day at school back in her hometown since the incident. The way it flared out the red skirt was both fashionable and made her hips look just a bit thicker. The matching cardigan hung somewhat loose, also in line with the current trends while slightly masking the frailness of her frame. She smoothed down the skirt and straightened out her pan collar perfectly before pinning both sides down with the lucky pearl collar pins inherited from her maternal grandmother. Alice took one final look in the mirror with a deep breath and silent prayer. She plastered a smile on her face, ready to face the day.

Meanwhile, across town, Jasper Whitlock was in for a quite literal rude awakening. "Wake up, sleepyhead. We're gonna' be late for school." With a groan of annoyance, Jasper opened his eyes to the familiar face of his cousin Rosalie. The sassy blonde was simultaneously one of his favorite people yet also the curse of his existence. Jasper frequently shifted between feelings of gratefulness for having such a fun-loving relative living next door and wishing her family had never moved across the country to help out after his mother's passing.

With her presently standing next to his bed, hands on her hips, very likely fully prepared to throw something at him if he didn't get moving. He was currently feeling the latter. "Since when do you care about school?" He groaned, sitting up on the thin mattress lying on the floor. "More importantly, why are you here, and how did you get in my room?"

"The door, your dads passed out again and it was unlocked." Rosalie shrugged, crossing the room to take a seat at the only chair not covered in clothing, sheet music, or records as she examined her nails. "Anyway, I don't care about school, but I don't want to miss the fireworks, so we're at least going to morning classes. Now, get up and get dressed."

"What are you yammering on about?" Jasper responded as he threw the worn, tattered blankets to the side and grabbed a white t-shirt from its place, lazily shoved into an already open dresser drawer directly to the side of his mattress.

"Mary-Alice Brandon is coming back today."

"Yeah," The other teen rolled his eyes. "Well fuck Mary-Alice Brandon."

"Oh, come on, tell me you don't care about the inherent entertainment of watching everyone flock back to following her lead and leaving poor Charlotte in the dust."

"You're demented."

"You know how petty high school politics amuse me so." The tall blonde woman shrugged before she stood straightening out her leather jacket as she crossed the room. "At least come to support your best friend? Charlotte is either going to be elated or upset. If it's the latter, it's going to make Pete upset. Relationships are kind of like dominos that way. Now hurry up, Riley's waiting outside, and we need a ride, oh favorite cousin of mine."

With that, Rosalie confidently strutted out of her cousin's room, down that hallway. In the Whitlock's living room, her mother and uncle were engaged in the same decade-old argument they'd been having from the moment Ruth and Joseph Hale had packed up their family moving from New York to Nevada. Rosalie had only been one at the time, having no memory of what actually happened. The backlash, however, had caused a ripple effect through the lives of everyone in the family. Because of this, it was no secret that Irene Whitlock had passed away shortly after Jasper's birth. That uncle Thomas had fallen into deep despair losing his job and drinking the days away.

It was concern for the boys, James and Jasper, that had prompted the move. Her mother so worried for her nephew's well being that they'd relocated their entire lives to be there and help take care of them. It was meant to be temporary until Thomas got back on his feet. Seventeen years later, the siblings were still arguing over it. Her mother pleading for the man to think of his children.

Unwilling to witness the same fight yet again, Rosalie left the house and headed to the street where her twin brother stood leaning against Jasper's car. "Is he coming?" Riley asked, disinterestedly kicking absently at the pavement, scuffing up his shoes in the process.

"Yeah, I had to guilt-trip him, but he's coming."

Just as the words had left Rosalie's mouth, the seventeen-year-old in question came shuffling out of the house. Once the door was carefully and quietly shut behind him, Jasper's demeanor shifted, and he confidently stalked down the sidewalk, climbing into his car without uttering a single word. No sooner had the twins piled into the vehicle behind him than Jasper had peeled out of the driveway headed in the direction of the local high school, barely giving Riley enough time to pull the door shut.

Outside the school, Peter, Jasper's best friend, a tall boy with dark hair, was standing in the parking lot talking to Charlotte. The pair had begun dating over the summer, much to Jasper's annoyance. Their relationship had started in the fall when the girl had entered the antique shop owned by Jasper's uncle that Peter worked in part-time. The two had hit it off as instant friends. Despite a plethora of drama involving Charlotte's now ex-boyfriend Demetri and her friend Jane, the pair had entered into a romantic relationship.

While Jasper didn't particularly care for the girl or her crowd, Peter was gone for her. So the teen put up with Charlotte, and more often than he'd like the teenage queens who followed her around like puppies. Over time, though he would die before admitting it to anyone, he'd even begun to almost like her.

So, when he exited his car, Jasper nodded in greeting to the new couple from across the parking lot before turning to his own social circle in the parking space next to his own. The teens were gathered around admiring Benjamin's new car that he'd won in a race just a few weeks prior. Maria, one of his oldest friends having grown up in the same neighborhood, was already stretched out across the hood leaning back against the windshield. A cigarette burned from its place tucked loosely between her fingers as she chatted with Lucy and Nettie about their plans for the afternoon once they'd ditched.

Jasper was well aware that most if any of the assembled teenagers would be ducking out before the end of the school day. Personally, he intended to be long gone as soon as Rosalie's attention was elsewhere. Which, judging by how engaged she seemed to be in her conversation with Benjamin and Randall on the mechanical details of the new car, wouldn't be long. However, he was already here, and it wouldn't hurt to at least stay for first period. So he elected to join in on Riley, Makenna, and Charles's conversation about the new Buddy Holly single.

Jasper had just made plans with the latter two to head to the local diner later and play the song on the jukebox when Peter, followed closely by Charlotte, headed over to collect his best friend for homeroom. Bidding his friends goodbye, Jasper followed the other boy, his girlfriends, and the group of students she associated with into the building where their lockers were located. As always, because lockers were assigned alphabetically by surname, Peter and Jasper's lockers were right next to each other.

Not planning on being an active student, let alone showing up at school more often than necessary, Jasper hadn't brought alone anything to warrant keeping in a locker. So, he took a seat on a bench located under a window next to the set of lockers letting the other teens chat as they placed their belonging in the metal storage structures.

"Is that Mary-Alice?" Eric Yorke, a rather talkative and, in Jasper's opinion, annoying boy gasped out capturing his and Charlotte's attention. The latter turned away from her conversation with Bella and Jane to look at the boy in confusion.

Charlotte had known her best friend was back in town, but when they'd spoken earlier Alice, as she'd decided to begin going by dropping the first half of her name, had stated her parents would allow the tiny teen to skip the first week of classes. Being an exceptional student well on the way to becoming valedictorian, and taking the incident into consideration, the school had happily accommodated.

"I thought you said she wasn't coming back until next week Char?" Bella spoke quietly, her eyes now following the same trajectory of Eric's

"Looks like the reign of Charlotte is over." Mike snickered, also staring at the top of the stairwell. Following her friends' gaze, Charlotte's expression quickly morphed from one of confusion to that of utter delight.

Jasper didn't care much for the particulars of high school politics. Prior to Peter's entanglement with Charlotte, the name Mary-Alice had been nothing more than a blip on his radar. The two ran in vastly different circles, he being a proud greaser surrounding himself with like-minded truants who cared more about races and the newest records than anything else. She, a spoiled overachiever. The goody-two-shoes type who headed every committee whose word the majority of student's hung on. Still, even he'd noticed when the girl had disappeared a year ago. So, he turned his attention to the sight that had captured everyone's attention, curious as to what the commotion was about.

He was met with the sight of a girl who's smile was so pure she almost seemed to glow. Short despite her blatant attempt to make up the difference with the kitten heels she wore. Her slightly curly hair was a chocolate-colored brown rested just short of her chin. Based on the perfect angles of her collar and the way she kept nervously smoothing out her skirt, it was apparent that she'd taken great care to ensure every aspect of her appearance was perfect. His dislike for the teen was instant; he hardly tried to hide the scowl from his face as he watched her scan the hallway. Once her blue eyes landed upon the small group, she burst into a bright smile and a somehow graceful run down the stairwell.

"Charlotte!" Alice exclaimed in a melodic chirp as she reached the gathering.

"Alice!" The taller girl responded with equal enthusiasm throwing her arms around her friend. "What are you doing at school?" She questioned the smile never leaving her face as she released her friend.

"Papa thought it might be best to just jump right in if I was up for it since I'm home already." Her smile faltered at the statement but returned quickly. "Who are our new friends?" She asked catching sight of Jasper and Peter eyeing the two with curiosity. The former of whom rolled his eyes at the assumption, he was not nor would her ever be her friend.

Jasper opened his mouth to inform this 'Mary-Alice' of as much, but Charlotte responded before he could get the words out. "Alice," She stated grabbing Peter's hand. "This is Peter, my boyfriend. And that's his best friend Jasper."

"Wow," Alice's eyes widened. "I have missed a lot. It's lovely to meet you both." She smiled once again as she took a seat on the bench next to Jasper, expertly tucking her skirt underneath her slim legs as she descended. "The four of us should go bowling after school; I'd love to get to know the both of you better."

Jasper's annoyance grew at the suggestion, unable to put up with anymore he stood in a haste. "That's never going to happen." He shot the small girl a glare and stormed down the hall out of the building. Forget Rosalie, he thought approaching his vehicle in the parking lot. Forget school, and most of all forget Mary-Alice Brandon.

#Jalice #jasper hale #alice cullen #twilight fic #Twilight

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dammitadolfnomorecake · 4 years

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Once Bitten, Twice Stupid prt 17 - prt1

Keeping up with the tradition, they all wound up back at Lance’s house. Keith and Pidge were bonding with Blue, his cat a ho when it came to pats... on her terms of course. Keith seemed mystified over what to do when a cat sat in your lap. Blue was a traitor, bunting up into Keith’s chin because she was a traitorous whore with no taste. In the kitchen with Hunk, Lance nursed a mug of warm wine mixed with blood, as Hunk baked. He couldn’t stop himself. He needed to unwind and Lance was happy to provide his kitchen for that

“Did you really break your phone, man?”

Lance looked over the rim of his mug

“Yep. Dropped it on my bedroom floor. It shattered on the spot”

“You said we’d talk... I’m feeling kind of left out man”

“I didn’t mean to make you feel left out”

“Ever since Keith came along, you’ve been acting weird. I know sometimes Pidge can be full on, but I thought we were tight”

“We are tight”

“Then what haven’t you been telling me? I’ve told you things I wouldn’t think of telling Pidge”

Lance felt as if Keith had gotten his wish and staked him through the heart

“It’s not like that...”

“Then what is it like?”

The vampire didn’t have a whole lot of options. He could confess he was a vampire and give Hunk a heart attack. He could keep lying, which was clearly hurting Hunk. He could claim Keith was threatening him, but then Pidge and Hunk would want to take things into their own hands... Fuck... He didn’t want to hurt Hunk. Lying really did hurt. His friends were so special to him that he hated having to distance himself... semi lies were as bad as the real thing

“Okay... okay... the truth is I’m not really over being sick. I’m still feeling sick most of the time and I’m not used to having company all the time. I didn’t want to tell you because you worry about me so damn much. I’ll recover, good as new, but I’m supposed to have spent this last week resting up as much as possible. I can’t help myself, I love hanging out with you and Pidge, so when you invite me I can’t say no. I pushed myself a little too hard to fast, but I promise I’m working on getting better”

Hunk’s eyes immediately welled with tears

“Why didn’t you tell me?”

“Because all I need is to catch on some sleep. You and Pidge are my best friends. I want to make as many memories with you as I can. I also had a call that wasn’t great, so that’s been on my mind too”

“A call?”

“A work call. The woman was strung out of her mind, I had to call in a welfare check on her. It’s been exhausting, but nothing a few good nights sleep won’t cure”

“Man... I wish you’d told me. We could have gone back home...”

“It’s okay”

“It’s not okay. If you’re sick, you need to be resting. I’ll tell Pidge while you get ready for bed”

“Dude, I’m okay”

“Please, stop being stubborn! Pidge and I both know you’ve never been really well. You’re always so pale. But you never tell us anything. We’re your friends, we want you to rely on us”

He’d been told that by Hunk before, playing it off as a low immune had bought him about a years worth of silence on the matter

“I do. I love you guys like family. That’s why... that’s why it’s so hard. We’ll watch what Pidge filmed, then head to bed”

“Absolutely not. I’ll have dad come pick us up. Keith can crash at mine for the night”

“You don’t need to do that”

“I don’t need to, but I want to. Let me help”

Passing Keith off was a terrible idea. Keith didn’t mix well with others. If he snapped anything was likely to come out... but what Lance wouldn’t give for a night without having to worry about waking Keith

“His brother Shiro should be swinging around tomorrow to pick him up. It’ll be fine, it’s only one more night. Plus, if we don’t watch the film now we won’t be able to watch it all together as a group”

Sure, most of Keith’s face was hidden behind the mask but Lance could tell all his expressions from the way his muscles moved. His brain told him that at any rate. His imagination must have been filling in the blanks automatically based on what he knew of Keith’s personality

“You need rest”

“I’ll be resting on my chair. Nothing strenuous happening, other than being in trouble with Pidge for talking. We’ll watch the video, pick out what to keep and what to edit, then I’ll go straight up to bed”

Hunk sighed, picking up the closest tea towel off the kitchen bench as he did

“You better. I’ll still have dad pick us up. And you need to answer your phone”

“I only have my work phone and the home phone”

“Exactly. Two other ways of calling”

“I can’t promise I’ll hear them, but if I see you’ve called, I’ll call back. Deal?”

Holding his hand out, Hunk took it, his handshake firm

“Deal. Don’t go around worrying me like that, man. I’m still recovering from tonight. Did you see that grey stuff?”

“It was the light off the camera. From having the viewfinder open and in night mode. That’s my bet. That combined with dust. Anyway, anything haunting that place would have made themselves scarce thanks to Pidge. I wouldn’t want to be a ghost and on the wrong side of her”

“I thought she was literally going to blow steam from her ears. She was so cranky”

“Especially when Keith tripped. I thought she was going to go turn him into a ghost on the spot”

Lance snorted as he smiled. Keith would be the dopiest ghost. He’d probably actually turn into one, but go around thinking he was human

“So did I. Our little gremlin is viscous. How long do the cookies need?”

“10 minutes. Go on ahead, I’ll be in soon”

“Alright, buddy. Don’t forget to use the dishwasher instead of doing the dishes by hand. Tonight was hard on you too. You deserve to kick back and relax”

“Yep, will do”

Pidge had Lance’s laptop on her lap when Lance headed into the living room

“Pidge! You’re not supposed to be on there!”

Pidge jumped at being sprung in the act

“I was ordering you a new phone. What kind of idiot doesn’t use a lifeproof case?”

“Me when they’re not very lifeproof. You know there’s sensitive files on there”

“Relax. All I did was open the browser. I don’t want to know about your cases”

“That’s beside the point. How you feel if you were one of them. And, it’s not like I can’t buy a new phone from the post office”

“You can, but I’m picking out a good one”

“Nope. No. I just need a cheap one where I can message you guys, take photos of Blue, and watch cat videos”

“Pffft. No. Trust me, you need to embrace the future, no more living in the past. Now, what colour do you want?”

“I don’t care about colour”

“You’re hopeless! Here’s one for $1500”

“Absolutely no way. I can’t justify spending that much on a phone. No. I’m fine with a $120 cheapie”

“You’re not fine and those things are an insult to technology. Help me out Keith”

Keith’s expression said he was in for trouble. Keith would do anything to mess with his life further, including taking revenge by making Lance pay out an unreasonable amount of money. Give it enough time and everything flashy would become standard for much cheaper

“I don’t know if he’s allowed something, or if he’d just wind up breaking it”

“Damn! Nice one. Okay, I’m ordering your phone now...”

“Pidge!”

“... and it’s done. You can thank me later with a shitload of photos of Blue. She’s such a diva. You should make her her own socials”

Lance didn’t love socials. He didn’t love the fakeness. He wished people could see and love the things in them that they might hate because society had made them feel like shit. He only had socials because of Pidge and his Mami. Most of what he posted was of Blue and her perfect little toe beans... with the occasional, less than lady like, tongue blep as she glared at him. He wasn’t putting pressure on Blue to be perfect for an audience

“Seriously?”

“Yep. A new case is coming too. This one should be Lance proof. Do we need to think about putting child safety devices in place?”

“I don’t know, Pidgeon. Do I need to think about digging a shallow grave when I see the price?”

“Maybe... is it for me, or for you?”

“I don’t know yet”

“Then I don’t know either. Hurry up and sit down already, you can have your precious laptop back. I don’t see why you need the desktop set up and a laptop. Both are practically antiques”

“You did both builds last year”

Pidge moaned

“Exactly, antiques. A painful reminder of my youth”

“Keith, do me a favour and punch Pidge in the arm for me. She’s being an idiot”

Keith ignored him, scratching the base of Blue’s back where it met her tail, Blue purring. Everybody in the room sucked. If it worked and did what it was meant to, Lance was fine with it not being the latest and greatest

“Ha! He knows better than to hit me”

“Yeah, because he’s as scared of you as the rest of us”

Pitch ditched a cushion in his direction, that missed him completely

“Rude”

“Merp”

Keith simply snorted at the both of them, Blue was taking up too much of the hunter’s attention. Still, he was going to be the bigger man, no wet food for Blue until she came back and loved him again.

The next week of Lance’s life passed slowly. Very fucking slowly in parts. His thirst wasn’t getting better, Keith wanted to fight every day, he didn’t have the energy to keep up with his work, feeling like he was letting all his clients down. Something in his gut was trying to tell him something, and Lance wasn’t sure what it was. He hadn’t heard from Shiro. Keith’s answer to that problem was that Shiro would come back when it was safe. But “safe for who?” was a totally different question. Lance had found that gradually he was getting used to Keith’s presence. He didn’t like it. He didn’t like this kind of uneasy peace. Keith grudgingly ate Lance’s cooking. The idiot had burned toast... in the toaster. It didn’t take a degree to be able to put two pieces in and pull down the lever, but somehow he’d done it. He’d set off the fire alarms, waking Lance, who immediately went into panic mode. Smacking his arm on the wall, he’d burst the blood blister building beneath his skin, smearing blood on the wall, as he swore. Rushing into the kitchen, the toaster was on fire, Lance ripping the cord out the all and dumping the lot in the sink.

Swapping the washing from the machine to the dryer, Lance closed his eyes and counted to 10 before opening them again. He could hear Keith shuffling around in the kitchen. He could hear his phone vibrating on the bench. The way his coffee machine slowly came to life told him he had all of 5 minutes before Keith would be all up in his face demanding that they fight. He could be in the middle of vacuuming and Keith would still pop up and demand to fight. He seemed to be working out a style for himself and organising his thoughts as he did. He still hadn’t decided on Keith, but he had to give him some credit. He kept trying and he kept getting back up... He was still to get an actual blow in that Lance hadn’t allowed. Maybe he was sick from Keith continually beating him up? And maybe he was kind of enjoying things more than he let himself believe. Or maybe his defences were lower than normal thanks to still being sick.

“Lance! Message!”

So Keith was his answering service now? Where was that in the terms and agreements of having his house hijacked?

“I know! I heard! Some dick didn’t bring all his washing out!”

“That’d be you!”

Like fuck it was. His lapses didn’t count when it was his house and he was going through stuff. Watching Keith try to wash and live in two sets of clothes was painful, so now he had three sets, plus underwear and socks of his own. He had a whole damn drawer in the spare bedroom, the Hunter basically moved in

“Fuck off!”

So much for his calming breath.

Heading into the kitchen, Keith had coffee made for the both of them. Yeah, Lance would have preferred tea but Keith seemed adamant on conquering the coffee machine

“Who was the call from?”

“I don’t know, I didn’t check it”

Lance raised an eyebrow

“I thought that was your thing, snooping on people’s calls?”

“Very funny old man. You look worse than you did yesterday”

“Isn’t that good for you?”

“No. I can’t learn anything if you’re half dead”

“If only I’d known that all along. I would have been off the hook long ago”

“Ha ha fucking ha”

“Shut up drink and your coffee”

Snatching his phone up, Lance’s chest went tight, his stomach dropped and his knees nearly went with it

“What’s wrong?”

Opening the message recorded, Lance held it to his ear as his hands shook

“Hi, Lance, it’s Sally here. Your grandmother’s taken a bit of a fall. She was awake when we found her, but we’ve transferred her to Platt General hospital. I’m sorry to drop this on you. If you want to give them a call, they might have more information for you...”

Lance’s phone slipped from his hand, Keith catching it before he could break another one

“Lance?”

“I’ve got to go”

“What’s wrong?”

“Nothing. It doesn’t concern you... fuck...”

He was getting teary. His Mami wasn’t as strong as she’d once been

“Hey...”

Brushing Keith off, Lance started scrambling to get ready, his head already dreaming up worst case scenarios. Had his Mami fallen or had it been something more? Had something happened? Was she not telling him something?

Racing out the front door, he made straight for his car. The key didn’t seem to want to go into the ignition, Lance screaming at it in frustration

“Move over, I’ll drive”

Lance nearly told Keith to fuck himself. He didn’t know why he’d followed him out. Sliding across the bench seat, Keith climbed into the drivers seat

“What’s happened?”

“It’s... I need to get to Platt general”

“You’ll have to give me directions. What’s going on? Who’s in hospital?”

“My Mami...”

Whatever smart reply Keith had for that died on the man’s tongue. Giving a nod, Keith got the key into the ignition, the old bronco starting with a rumble.

The drive to Platt was horrible. It passed in a blur as Lance prayed to whoever was out there that it wouldn’t be something major. Barking directions at Keith, Keith copped all his bad mood and worry, the hunter barely parked before Lance was rushing to get out the car. He hadn’t even bothered to clip in his damn seatbelt for the drive

“Lance, take a breath”

“Fuck you”

“Your teeth are fucking showing”

Oh... he was making a vampire face... fuck... he felt like he was about to throw up across his feet. He needed to see his Mami, and Keith’s presence was the only thing keeping him from completely losing himself. The hunter deserved a break

“Do you know what ward she’s on?”

“No. They didn’t say...”

“Okay, we’ll find out together”

Lance should have known Keith knew all about his family. Keeping his hand on Lance’s good arm, to keep him from running off, Keith talked to the woman at the front information desk, finding his Mami’s room with more patience than Lance had. He’d been here before with his Mami, so he should have remembered the way up to the floor, Keith nearly getting them lost because Lance couldn’t stop the flood of tears rolling down his face over the fact his Mami wasn’t dead. Finding the right ward, the nurse at the desk looked up at them like she was perplexed by their presence, telling them that only family was allowed to see his Mami. With choked words Lance explained that he was her grandson and emergency contact, which was apparently Luis on the hospital side of things. It wasn’t supposed to be him. Lance lived the closest, and he was the one who always made time for his Mami. When the woman looked to Keith, Lance explained that he was Mami’s other grandson, Keith not at all comfortable with the sudden promotion to family. Signing in, the nurse led them to his Mami’s room. She’d fractured her hip in the fall, and done a bang up job on her face, Lance nearly face planting as his emotions grew further out of control.

Propped up on pillows, Lance let out a fresh sob at his Mami’s face. Keith telling the nurse he’d call if they needed anything. His Mami looked so frail, far too frail, her complexion washed out, but when she saw him, she was raising her arms towards him

“Oh, Mijo...”

Walking over to his Mami, Lance wrapped his arms around her the best he could

“I’m okay. It’s just the silly head of mine. I got a little muffled”

“I was so scared”

“I know, you’ve always had a sweet heart. But you know it takes more than a fall to stop me”

Lance snorted a laugh, well aware he was snotting on his Mami’s shoulder

“I was still scared. Sally called to let me know”

“She’s got a big mouth, that one. They say I’m off to surgery soon, time for the good drugs”

“Mami!”

His mother chuckled, her strength wasn’t what it was, so Lance reluctantly drew out of her embrace to sit beside her

“Now, enough of that face. It’s a fractured hip, I’ve still got plenty of life in this old bird”

“You’re not old”

“Says you”

“Touché... fuck... I felt like...”

He felt as scared as when his Papi passed

“You didn’t lose me just yet. My face is sorer than the leg. I’m a tough old duck”

“That doesn’t make me feel better”

“That’s because you worry too much. Now, who is your handsome friend here?”

Right. Fuck... He didn’t know if his teeth were still showing... but this was his Mami and he’d never been that great at keeping secrets from her

“This is Keith... he knows...”

“Nice to meet you “Keith He Knows”... I’m hoping you did the driving and not Lance”

“Uh, yes, Ma’am”

His Mami laughed, her slight wince in the corner of her eyes didn’t go unnoticed by Lance. She had to be in a lot of pain, despite what she was saying and how she was acting

“Gracious. Where did he find you. Miriam is fine, dear. Now, I know my son is a worrywart, so could be a dear and find him a cup of tea for his nerves?”

“I think I can...”

“Thank you. It’s nice to see Lance is making friends. He’s so insistent that he’s fine alone. I hope you’re a good friend to him”

Keith took the the opening to flee, Lance didn’t blame him. They weren’t friends... he didn’t know what they were

“Mijo, I’m okay. Where did you meet Keith “who knows”?”

“Does it matter?”

“It does when my baby boy is making friends... or is there something you’re not telling you Mami”

Lance groaned

“You sound like Pidge”

“Ah, she’s a smart girl. Sooo... you and Keith?”

“Aren’t like that... He’s a human for one thing”

“And?”

“And a single drop of my blood could change all that, plus, I’m pretty sure he actually hates me”

“Ooooh, my little Mijo is growing up!”

His Mami must have been high

“Mami, he’s a hunter”

“I can see how that could make things difficult... Is he here to kill you?”

How could his Mami sound so blasé about his death?

“He wanted to. But things happened. Now he’s annoying houseguest”

“I hope you’ve been treating him right”

“Mami!”

“Good chinaware and fresh sheets...”

Lance groaned

“Mami, it’s not like that. How can you be so calm?”

“Because I can tell he’s not going to kill you”

“How?”

“Just call it a Mami feeling”

“I think Mami’s feeling high”

“A bit. A bit annoyed this happened before bingo. That Andy Jefferies always wins the good stuff. His walker might have to go for a walk”

“Mami!”

“I’m just saying... oh, never mind. Luis should be here soon”

Fucking Luis...

“Don’t make a face like that, Mijo. He is your brother”

“I know and someone changed me from their emergency contact here”

“Well Luis and Lisa are thinking of making the move here...”

“I’m already here”

“I know you are, dear. But you can’t chase after your Mami forever”

“I’m pretty sure I can. I mean, vampire and that”

Lance injected scoff into his tone. He didn’t want to seem as jealous as he was. He’d always thought he’d had a special bond with his Mami, and the rest of his family all had families of their own... except for Rachel. She’d had a troubled life, thanks to him

“You know what I mean”

“I do, but you don’t get to think that you’re rid of me anytime soon”

“I wouldn’t dream of such freedom”

His Mami was viscous

“Now, give me hug. This old body doesn’t always like cooperating”

#once bitten twice stupid #17prt1

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