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pennylanefics · 1 year

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The Librarian - Jake Kiszka | Chapter 4

a/n: this chapter is a bit self indulgent, i include my love and knowledge of sharks bc i mainly didn’t plan on posting it so it’s just what i had, but i like how it flowed and didn’t want to change it :)

word count: ~ 1.7k

JAKE’S POV:

As days go by, (Y/N) doesn’t come in. Granted, I don’t work the last three days of the week, but upon returning Sunday, Lily didn’t mention her, and knowing Lily, she absolutely would tell me if she was in.

This got my mind going. After the last interaction, her getting Josh’s number and wanting to help him write his short film, I wasn’t really feeling good about my feelings anymore. I still do find her cute, and after hearing that she doesn’t have a boyfriend back home, I thought I had a slight chance.

But no. Josh always has to come in and steal every girl that I like because he thinks he’s the cooler twin. And in reality, he is. He does film, he’s far more charismatic and open than me, who would rather spend a day in the library, avoiding the outside world.

That was neither here nor there, overall, Josh always does this, especially with how he knows how much I like this girl already. He has no awareness or anything for me, and I hate it. But I suck it up because life goes on.

It was a rainy Sunday afternoon, over a week has passed since I even last saw (Y/N), and it had been pretty quiet all morning. I finished putting away the books that were dropped off yesterday in the book drop, cleaned up and organized some shelves that people left the previous night, and finally retreated back to my spot behind the desk.

A little while passes and the storm grows heavier, though no thunder just yet. I am deep in a game of solitaire when the bell dings. My head shoots up and there stands (Y/N), who shakes off the rain, keeping her head down. She doesn’t have her laptop with her, so that means she won’t be working on her script.

She doesn’t acknowledge me or greet the ladies beside me as she heads straight back to the nonfiction section, disappearing into one of the back aisles. I clear my throat and try to focus on my game, but I couldn’t, knowing that she was here.

“Go,” Lily whispers, nodding her head in the direction that (Y/N) walked in. “There’s no one here, she doesn’t seem to be doing any work, go talk to her.”

“But, she could be wanting some time alone, I don’t want to bother her.”

“Bring her a hot chocolate and see what she’s up to then,” she suggests. Sighing softly, I nod and close the game of solitaire, leaving my desk. Nervously, I push my glasses further up my nose, my hands shaking slightly.

I find her sitting in the back aisle, where the oceanography books are. She hears my footsteps and looks up from the page she was scanning. Immediately, she smiles and my heart soars out of my chest.

“Hi,” she greets.

“Hi. Um, I saw you come in without your laptop. Taking a break from your script?” I ask, trying to mask my nerves.

“Oh, yeah, for a little. I didn’t have a good night last night, so I thought I’d come in today and just read up on a special interest of mine.” She shows me the cover of the book, a shark encyclopedia book, detailing every type and species of shark.

“I’m sorry to hear that last night wasn’t good. Anything interesting?” She furrowed her eyebrows in confusion. “I-I mean, in the book. F-finding anything interesting? About sharks?”

By now, my cheeks were on fire with embarrassment, but her giggle made me feel a little better, knowing that I didn’t really mean to pry into her life or anything.

“If you’d like to join me, I’d be happy to share the information that I’m finding out,” she offers. A wide smile stretches across my face before I look back to the front desk, which she notices. “Unless you have to get back to work.”

“My co-worker is the one who sent me over here, actually, so I figure I’m okay. It’s rather slow and we don’t really expect many people. I’m surprised to see you today, honestly. But I am gonna grab a couple things.”

She nods and looks back down at the book as I run off, placing an order for two hot chocolates. While the barista makes those, I grab the blanket that I keep in my locker for when it gets chilly, which today happens to be one of those days, with the rain and all.

I grab the two cups from the counter and make my way back. (Y/N) had gotten comfy with the surrounding pillows, for those that like to sit on the floor while reading. I hand her one cup and then drop to the floor beside her.

“Here,” I murmur, awkwardly holding the blanket out for her to take. She graciously takes it and covers her lap, but her next move surprises me.

She threw the cover over my lap as well, scooting right up against my side so I could see the book in her lap as well. My heart thumped in my chest, the tension rising in my body. But that soon washes away when I feel her thigh pressed against mine, the warmth radiating from her body, my mind beginning to wander…

No. I’m here to listen to her interests, not think about…that. As much as I wanted to.

“So, today, my own curiosity is leading me to study the differences between the species of hammerhead and the differences between the species of threshers.”

“How many are there of each?” I ask, leaning closer to her to look over her shoulder. On the page, there was a diagram of a hammerhead shark.

“Of the threshers, there are three. The pelagic, the big eye, and the common. Of hammerheads, there are nine.”

“Nine different kinds?” I confirm. She chuckles and nods, flipping back a couple pages.

“See, this is the great hammerhead,” she points to a similar diagram as the last one. “It’s the biggest of the species, and it can grow up to twenty feet. But the way to tell the difference is their cephalofoil."

“That’s a fun word,” I mumble, though she hears. A giggle escapes her mouth and she looks back down at the page, resting half of the book in my lap. I take a sip of my drink to distract myself from how close we are right now.

“It’s basically their heads. So you can see with the great hammerhead, they have this little notch,” my eyes follow her finger as she traces along the drawing of the shark, focusing on the head of the shark, directly in the middle of its head. “And not to mention their dorsal fins are massive.”

She was right, the drawing shows it’s very long and somewhat slender dorsal fin, very different to what you usually see or think of when you think of a shark fin.

“That’s pretty cool. So what’s the second largest hammerhead?” She flips the page eagerly and lands on another species.

“The smooth hammerhead. The main difference, and reason behind its name, is that it doesn't have any sort of notch or indentation in its cephalofoil.”

“So I’ve been lied to all my life, and the fact that smooth hammerheads are named that is because their head isn’t indented, and not because of their bodies being smooth?” I joke, causing her to laugh rather loudly, but with practically no one here, it didn’t really matter; in fact, I was starting to enjoy the sound very much.

“Yes, you have been lied to. Although there is a shark, the silky shark, that is named for its silky skin rather than the usual rough sandpaper-like skin that sharks have.”

“Oh really?” She nods and flips to the back of the book, finding the index and searching for the shark. Within seconds, she lands on the page that details the shark she mentioned.

For the next couple hours, we sit there, goofing off, going through almost every shark that was in the book, stopping to talk as she gives me facts outside of the information in the book, either from a documentary she watched or something she learned in general, or even during Shark Week.

The rain had picked up and it was now completely storming, but it really just added to the ambience of the setting. Who wouldn’t want to be in a cozy library, snuggled up under a blanket next to a cute girl, with hot chocolate, learning about sharks?

“So, what’s your favorite shark?” I ask (Y/N) when she closes the book. We had looked through pretty much all we could, so she set it aside for now.

“There’s lots of interesting ones, but I love bonnetheads. They’re so adorable and just like miniature versions of the bigger hammers. Oceanic white tips are also so fascinating to me.”

“Those are the ones that kind of look like nurse sharks, right?” I question, trying to think back to the information she just told me.

“No, that’s the whitetip reef. Oceanic whitetips are the ones that are pretty aggressive, with the downturned pectoral fins that are really round.”

“Oh yeah, now I remember. There’s just so many it’s-”

“(Y/N), there you are!” Josh’s voice appears at the end of the aisle. He walks towards us, standing right next to me. (Y/N) moves away from me rips the cover off, standing to greet my brother. “You ready to head to the diner?”

My blood turns cold and I freeze. Diner?

“Yeah.” She grabs her purse and steps over me, apologizing sweetly

“You guys are going to the diner?” I ask, trying to make it sound like I was just curious, but I desperately needed to know if it was a date or not.

“We’re gonna talk over the short film we’re working on together,” (Y/N) states, shooting me a small, sad smile.

“Oh. Well then, have fun,” I try to seem happy, but I can’t hide it anymore. They disappear and all I can hear is her laughter ringing off the walls, until the bell rings, telling me that they are no longer inside. Then, the quiet settles in, and my anxiety and insecurity raises. I try to prevent the tears that form in my eyes, but it’s no use.

Was I really going to lose this special, special girl to my brother? Because it’s truly beginning to feel like it, and I’m terrified of the day that it happens.

READER’S POV:

You and Josh enter the small yet very homey diner and quickly seat yourselves in an available booth.

“So, what’s good here?” You ask.

“You haven’t been here yet?” He wonders, looking at you in disbelief. You shake your head, feeling a little bit awkward, but he giggles, brushing off his facade. “Honestly, everything here is incredible.”

“You wanna share a plate of the loaded waffle fries?” You offer.

“Ugh yes, that’s my favorite appetizer, how’d you know?” Chuckling, you shrug and look down at the menu.

“Something we have in common I guess.”

You continue looking over every item available, Josh telling you some of his favorites, mixed with stories of times that he’s gotten those items and whatnot. Finally, when your order is placed, you stare across the table at the curly-haired man.

“So, for the scene with Edgar coming to Peter with the idea, I was thinking we could do something like panning around them, for some dramatic affect.”

“I mean, you’re the one who knows more about camera work and everything, so if you think that would be cool, we can do it.”

“Yeah, we follow Edgar down the stairs to where Peter is sitting, then he stands up, and kind of like a mob movie or action movie, circling around them gives this sense of urgency and all, even though this isn’t a life or death situation story.”

“Well, what does that add to the story? Because if we aren’t following them to Canada, because this is a short film, how is that sense of urgency there? Like, what are we rushing it for?” Josh thinks for a moment before sighing and sitting back, almost as if he’s defeated.

“Damn, you’re right,” he groans. “I personally just like making my films tense and suspenseful even in situations that don’t call for it.”

“There’s nothing wrong with that. This is just me throwing my own thoughts in with what I’ve learned. It would be a great use for a mob story, but not for this story.

The story follows three teens, just graduated from high school, planning a trip up to Canada to smuggle back some candy that isn’t sold in the United States, and sell it on the low when college starts.

“I just don’t think it’s necessary for them just sitting in a basement and going over logistics and planning and everything.”

“No, no, that absolutely makes sense. Thank you for the input, honestly.”

“Sorry to shoot down your first suggestion,” you tease. Just then, the waitress sets your plate of loaded waffle fries down, and immediately, your eyes widen.

It looked heavenly, though it did look like a pile of nachos. The fries were underneath a cheese sauce, bits of bacon, and melted shredded cheese over the top. A couple ramekens of ranch are also placed on the table, and your mouth waters.

“You get first bite,” Josh says, pushing the plate towards you. Using your fingers, you take a fry completely covered in both cheeses, dip it into the ranch, and then pop it in your mouth. Josh watches, interested in your reaction.

“Oh my god,” you moan. Josh laughs and claps a little, digging into the plate as well.

“Right?! Absolutely amazing.”

The rest of the time is spent continuing getting to know one another, with the film talk being pushed aside as you get into personal conversations.

“And so my brother Sam and I were trying to haul this fish up onto the boat and-”

“Your milkshake,” the waitress interrupts the conversation, setting a glass down in front of you. A single milkshake.

“I uh, did you order this?” You ask Josh. He shakes his head and looks over at the waitress.

“Remember how this town is small? Everyone knows everyone, and that waitress is a friend from elementary school, so she often just gives me free milkshakes whenever I come in. But, you are more than welcome to share it.”

He pushes a straw towards you and you open it, sticking it into the freezing dessert. You take the first drink and sigh.

“That is so good, oh my god. Everything here is so incredible.”

“Yeah? Well, maybe we can come back another day, no film talk, nothing. Just a day to relax, maybe after we finish filming.”

“I’d love to. I wanted to try that chicken cheesesteak thing, but I wasn’t in the mood for it today.” You take another sip from your milkshake, a little bit spilling out onto your lip. Josh smiles and reaches over the table.

“Um, you have, uh,” he mumbles, pointing to your lip. “May I?” With a confirming nod from you, he swipes his thumb across your bottom lip, ridding the droplet from your skin.

Your face turns hot upon feeling his soft thumb against your lip. He wipes his finger onto his napkin, keeping his eyes on you. Tension suddenly filled the air, and you didn’t know what to do next. Thankfully, the waitress came over and dropped the check off, so that gave Josh and excuse to look away.

“Well, that was so fun, despite not getting much talk done about the film,” you say as you walk out of the diner and back to Josh’s car.

“It really was. And I’m looking forward to going there again soon with you,” he winks. Another rush of heat creeps up your neck and floods your cheeks. He opens the passenger side door for you, allowing you to slide in easily.

When he reaches your house, you gather your purse and get ready to step out of the car, but before doing so, you turn back to Josh. Leaning over the console, you kiss his cheek as quickly and softly as ever. He freezes, his own cheeks turning a light pink.

“I’ll see you later, Josh,” you smile at him one final time before getting out and shutting the door behind you. He sits there for a few seconds, trying to come to terms with what happened.

“Hm,” he hums to himself, the grin still plastered onto his face. He finally drives away, excited for what the next couple weeks will hold.

—

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breakerwhiskey · 8 months

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020 - TWENTY

Please visit breakerwhiskey.com for more information or to send a message to Whiskey's radio. Breaker Whiskey is an Atypical Artists production created by Lauren Shippen. If you'd like to support the show, please visit patreon.com/breakerwhiskey. As a patron, you will also receive each week's episodes as one longer episode every Monday.

Transcript under the cut. For more episodes, click here.

[click, static]

Okay, I’m sorry for rambling the other day, and I really hope I didn’t come across as too weird, I’m regretting a lot of that now, because I think I figured it out and if I’m right, then…you are really talking to me.

[click, static]

God bless the public library system. In all my driving around these past few days, I found a little downtown—small, but seems to have all the basics. Bank, grocery, post office and…public library.

I hadn’t even thought to check out the town but I popped my head into the grocery store and it didn’t look like it was all that well stocked to begin with. The place didn’t seem to be looted, but it didn’t really have much.

And you know what wasn’t touched at all? The perfect, dust-covered library. I’ve never been much of a reader, so Harry was usually the one to go to our local library and pick up whatever novel she could find that she hadn’t read and then she’d read it in two days and make me listen to her recount the entire plot of the entire thing, whether I asked or not.

And I never asked.

But sometimes she’d bring back technical manuals for me on whatever she could find. Even if it was for something we didn’t have and had no way of getting. I guess she thought maybe I needed entertainment, or maybe she was trying to drop hints that she wanted to fix up or build a particular thing.

[click, static]

Not that subtly was ever her game when she wanted something from me. Demanding was more her style.

But anyway, as I was driving this morning, scanning frequencies and keeping my eyes peeled for any scrap of a sign of human activity, it occurred to me—the library would have books on morse code. Any library would have books on morse code.

And lo and behold, I am correct. So, now I’ve got everything I need to understand you. And guess what you’re saying to me?

“Hello, Whiskey”. You’re saying hello to me!

[click, static]

I don’t know if you’re listening now, but you’ve clearly been listening enough to know my callsign. I’ve gotta assume that you’re not sitting by your radio every hour of every single day, like, you know, some people so I’m guessing you have set up some kind of automatic transmission system. Which makes me think that maybe you’ve rigged up your radio to record everything it picks up too, so you can hear my messages.

[click, static]

At least, that’s my hope. It’d be tricky to rely on the joint miracles of skip and being on the radio at the same time. So I’m going to keep talking, on this frequency, every morning, and you keep doing what you’re doing.

[click, static]

Hello, Whiskey…

Listen, if you can, change your transmission tomorrow. If it’s different, I’ll know that you’ve heard this and I’ll…

[click, static]

I don’t know! I don’t know what I’m gonna do next but you bet your bottom dollar that you’re gonna be hearing all about it.

[click, static]

#breaker whiskey #audio drama #episode #transcript #Spotify

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randywritesstuff · 2 years

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When You Wake Up | Katsuki Bakugo x f!Reader

A/N: Thank you guys so much for all your love and support on my last post! Literally can not believe how much you guys liked it. Here’s a short one-shot. Wanted to write something with no smut and full of angst!

Pairing: Katsuki Bakugo x f!Reader

Warnings: angst, death, lots of crying, descriptions of dying, blood, injury

Word Count: 920

Summary: Bakugo tells you he loves you as you fall asleep. Try to remember to tell him you love him too when you wake up.

Pain

All you could feel was pain.

It felt like someone had shoved a hot poker into your abdomen, the wound to your stomach sending sharp, stabbing pains throughout your body. Your lungs burned with every breath, and your hands were covered in your own blood, making it hard to grip onto your husband’s hand as he knelt beside you.

You watched as dust from the rubble of your recently won battle floated above you. You couldn’t help but think it looked like falling snow. You could almost trick yourself into thinking it was an early winter day, your body cold but relaxed, your eyes watching the snowflakes fall over you, some collecting on your eyelashes.

In reality, your eyelashes were collecting dirt and debris and your body was cold because you were rapidly losing blood. Your husband was yelling, looking more distressed than you had ever seen him, his voice booming over the large pieces of concrete and metal that were stacked on top of one another, effectively separating the two of you from the rest of the heroes and personnel that were desperately trying to reach you.

You knew you were dying.

You knew that help wouldn’t reach you in time.

And you think Bakugo knew it too, he just didn’t want to accept it. And truthfully, neither did you.

Dying was something you had thought about, being a pro hero and all, but you don’t think anyone could ever truly think about the possibility of dying. No one wanted to acknowledge that today or tomorrow could be their last day. It was easier to assume that you would grow old and peacefully pass in a warm, comfy bed, surrounded by your family. And that was what you had thought too. You thought you had a lifetime before it was your time to go. A lifetime of happy moments with friends. A lifetime of lazy Sunday’s with Bakugo. A lifetime to be a mom.

You and Bakugo had talked about having kids before you got married, agreeing to wait until the two of you had enjoyed married life and were better equipped to handle children. And just last week, you both had decided it was time.

It had been such an exciting day; just knowing that you and Bakugo were ready for kids had made the both of you scour the internet for baby names, starting a list of your favorites. You even ordered a few pregnancy and parenting books, wanting to get a head start on the reading so you were prepared for the coming months.

Your eyes shifted from the pseudo snow to your husband, his gaze quickly scanning the area to look for any openings or signs of help. You watched as a stray tear slid down his cheek before falling to the destroyed ground beneath you.

You lifted your bloodied hand, Bakugo swiftly turning his head towards you when he registered the movement. You slowly cupped his cheek, breathing becoming more difficult.

“You’re gonna be fine Y/N,” he reassured you, but you could see that he was trying to convince himself of his words just as much as he was trying to convince you. “You’re gonna be fine.” His voice broke on the last word, his eyes filling with tears that threatened to spill over. He lowered his head, grabbing the hand that was on his cheek, clasping it between both his hands and bring them to his forehead. Your bloody handprint that stained his cheek was quickly being washed away with his tears as he tried to hide his quiet sobs from you.

“I don’t want to go,” you spoke, your throat sore from the dust floating in the air and the yelling you had done while fighting the villain.

You wanted to be strong. You really did.

But you couldn’t help but let your fears slip past your lips as you lay beneath the man you loved, your vision blurring from the tears that flooded your eyes or your life fading away – maybe both. Bakugo’s pain and despair was palpable in his eyes as he lifted his head and locked his gaze to yours. You watched as he fought to hold back a sob, eventually losing the battle as it tore from his chest. You wished you could cry and sob with him, but your lungs struggled to take in enough air to breath, let alone let out a cry.

Your body began to feel heavy. You thought you could hear the sound of your fellow heroes yelling from beyond the rubble, power tools hammering at the blockage in a desperate attempt to save you. Bakugo must have felt your arm become heavier in his hands because he became frantic, gathering you into his arms and repeatedly asking you to keep your eyes open.

You hadn’t even realized they were closing.

You felt like you were floating; like you body was underwater. Everything was cold. You couldn’t feel Bakugo’s hand as he lightly tapped it against your cheek, trying to rouse you from the dangerous sleep that you were falling into.

You wished you were stronger. You wished you could keep your eyes open for longer. But you were so tired, and your body felt like it was resting on a cloud; weightless, feeling nothing. The pain had finally stopped, and you were ready to sleep.

The last thing you heard was your husband’s voice.

“I love you.”

You should remember to tell him you loved him too when you wake up.

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ynscrazylife · 3 years

Note

hi!! may i request hermione granger taking care of reader after reader gets injured from quidditch practice or a magic lesson gone wrong? thank you!!

The Warrior and the Knight | h.g fluff fic

Summary: After getting hurt during Quidditch Practice, Hermione becomes a doctor for her girlfriend.

Authors Note: Thanks for requesting! I’m so excited to write for Harry Potter again.

Request to be on a taglist (or multiple) here! (Taglists are at the end of the fic)

Harry Potter Masterlist | Main Masterlist

PSA: Do NOT copy, steal, translate, plagiarize, republish, etc any of my works on Tumblr or any other platform. Also, do NOT claim any of my works as your own. All of these works are either requests I’ve gotten that people have wanted me to write or original ideas I’ve had for works. If you happen to take inspiration from anything I’ve written and want to write something inspired by that, please a) ask me first and b) IF I say yes, credit me as inspo in your post by tagging me and link whatever work of mine that inspired you. Thanks.

header c @/byblackswan

Hermione Granger usually wasn’t a big fan of Quidditch. The crammed crowds, loud cheering, and especially the competitiveness stirring inside her and how disappointed she got when the opposite team scored against Gryffindor. She had been to far too many games of Harry’s for her liking and she did like seeing her friend play, but couldn’t deny the longing to be curled up in her dorm, reading.

That all changed when her girlfriend came along.

Hermione had met Y/N when she was coming to get Harry from practice so they could go to Hogsmeade one day. Y/N was their age but new to the team, playing as a chaser. She was immediately enchanted by the girl and found herself a blushing, blubbering mess. It didn’t take Harry too long to connect the dots and soon, he set them up to date, and they did.

Being with Y/N made Hermione incredibly happy. She quickly fell in love and wasn’t afraid, because Y/N had a tendency to calm her nerves and fill her with some courage instead.

Hermione found herself getting more and more eager at games, doing her best to keep her eyes on her girlfriend and how she zoomed every which way. Her cheers got louder. Her signs for Y/N and Harry (but mostly for Y/N) got bigger. And she truly enjoyed being a fan of Quidditch.

Which was why it wasn’t surprising to see Hermione climbing up the stands to sit at the Gryffindor’s team practice to watch. They had planned to go on a date afterwards, but Hermione finished her book and wanted to just see her girlfriend in all her glory and awe.

Her gaze immediately zeroed in on the fifth year in the Gryffindor jersey that was too big for her and watched as she zipped around. One second she had the Quaffle and the next it was soaring through the air to her teammate. Hermione smiled when her teammate caught it and scored.

The game continued on with Y/N having little mistakes. She was dominating the field and Hermione was so captivated that she didn’t notice the Ravenclaw in the stands, wand out and muttering under his breath, focussing on the game, definitely for a different reason and not to watch the players, well, play.

After the Quaffle soared through the hoop again, the team’s keeper flew down, got it, and threw it back. Y/N, being the closest, went to get it but her broom decided to disobey her. When she tried to go down to catch the underhanded through, the broom jerked her upwards. She tried again but this time she was jerked to the side. Hermione began to notice and she frowned in concern while Harry, who was on the field, tried to fly over to her.

In the amount of time that it took him, though, the broom was going even more wild. Y/N could tell that this wasn’t going to lighten up anytime soon and at this rate, it’d be near impossible for her to safely get onto another teammate’s broom. Making a quick decision, she decided to take matters into her own hands and, in an attempt to gain some control, directed her broom downwards.

The jerking all about was starting to make Y/N dizzy, but she didn’t give up. It took longer than it normally would but finally, when Y/N was closer to the ground (and when she was trying to block out all her teammates’ words because she had to concentrate), the broom went even more wild. She wasn’t at the height she wanted to be and when she tried to go down even further, the broom sped up, causing her to crash into the ground. Y/N rolled forward and the broom’s end managed to stab her in her stomach, but the momentum she had caused her to roll to the side, breaking off from the broom, onto the grass.

In a matter of seconds, the Gryffindor players had landed and Hermione was making her way onto the field as fast as she could. Harry was scanning the crowd, trying to figure out the source of this, but the other players all went to Y/N, trying to help her. Once Hermione got there, her protective instincts kicked in and she pushed them out of the way, not trusting them with healing spells.

“Hey, hey,” Hermione tried to comfort Y/N, whose face was scrunched up in pain, in a soft voice which she usually didn’t have. “You’re gonna be okay, yeah? I’m gonna take you to Madam Pomfrey.” She pressed her hand against Y/N’s stomach. Thankfully, the wound wasn’t too deep, but it still hurt.

“Madam Pomfrey can’t help. At least, not right now. I passed the Hospital Wing on my way over to practice - it’s filled with students with that nasty cold,” one of the Gryffindor chasers told the brunette.

Hermione cursed under her breath but gave Y/N a smile, wanting to be strong for her. “Harry!” She called her friend over. “Help me get Y/N to my dorm. I’m at least competent in the practice of healing spells. I’ll help her out.”

Harry nodded and they both helped Y/N walk to the dorm since she had also hurt her ankle. When they got there, Hermione stepped into the leader role. She got Y/N comfy on her bed and ordered Harry to get all the healing books he could from the library. After he left, she grabbed her wand and went to jump into action, but Y/N grabbed her hand softly, making Hermione pause, at first worried that something was wrong, and went to go ask all the questions until-

“Hey,” Y/N said, her voice gentle, gaze full of adoration. “Take a deep breath.”

Hermione shook her head. “You’re hurt - there’s no time.”

Y/N just shrugged. “I’ll be okay . . . I just wanted to say, I’m glad you were at the practice today, and not just because I’m hurt,” she said.

Hermione smiled, allowing herself to relax for a couple moments. “I’ll always be here for you, I hope you know that,” she replied, kissing Y/N’s forehead before taking a deep breath like her girlfriend told her to. She then straightened up and brought her wand out, healing her ankle (though it took a few tries) first.

Afterwards, she dealt with Y/N’s stomach wound. It wasn’t that bad, but she didn’t want it to get worse, which is why, after she used a spell to stop and clean the blood, she washed out the wound the Muggle way. Then, she conjured some bandages and bandaged her up tightly.

“My warrior,” Hermione said as she got into the bed also, slipping under the covers.

Y/N chuckled and leaned her head against Hermione’s shoulder. “My knight in shining armor,” she replied.

Permanent Taglist: @natasharomanoffismywife @hehehehannahthings @paulawand @blackbat2020 @cerberus-spectre @marrymemcgrath @celestialbarnes @kathryndimitrescu @snipyloulou @cc13723things

Harry Potter Taglist: @stephanieromanoff @okkulta @marauderenergy @thewidowsghost @basiclesbianbitch @mycosmicparadise @kidswhofightmonsters @mads-weasley @afraid-to-be-me @lilymurphy03

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chuckbass-love · 4 years

Note

Omg so hear me out! But I have an idea

What if just after a steamy moment between Chris and y/n he tells her that he has to do a sex scene with his co-star for defending Jacob and y/n instantly gets jealous and upset. So she decides to go sleep on the couch cause she doesn’t wanna see Chris right now due to the fact that he’d chosen the worse time to tell her about the fact that he had to pretend to fuck someone else.

And then the day he comes back after the sex scene he does to talk to her and he kissed her but she pulls away instantly and just says something like “How was she? Was she better then me?” And Chris is so baffled that he follows her up to their bedroom trying to get her to talk to him since he’s worried he’s upset her. Below could be his reaction to her question 🙈

Jealous

Hey love!! I love this idea so much! I really hope you love this because i always get a bit iffy wondering if people actually enjoy what i write for their requests. I’m sticking with the gif in the request. I’ve also changed a couple things with this though so yeah.

Also to the other people that sent in requests, i am working through them. They will be published throughout the next 2 weeks. i promise, sorry for slacking😬

Disclaimer: My work is not to be posted anywhere else other than MY Tumblr, Wattpad and Ao3 without my permission. However, reblogs are welcome.

Pairing: Chris Evans x Reader

Warning: Smut, angst, fluff. Basically the works. Oral (female receiving), fingering, language, insecurities and jealous behaviour.

Word Count: 2,373

GIF NOT MINE!!! Credit to @capsgrantrogers go check them out ❣️

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

“God i’m so glad that i’m shooting close to home so i get to do that with you every night” he pants as he turns on his side, his eyes meeting yours.

“Me too” you smile, softly at him. Your hand rests on his face, cupping it slightly as you lean in to kiss him quickly “talking of actually, there’s something i wanted to run by you” you raise a brow and motion for him to continue.

“See, there’s an intimate scene that i’m shooting tomorrow, i wanted to let you know beforehand so you’re not shocked when you see it on tv. It’s just a bit of kissing, we’ll both be shirtless and-” you don’t even give him the time to finish, you’ve heard enough for now.

“Wait, what? When did you find out about this Chris?” your annoyance is abundantly clear at this point, he sits up, letting you finish before he responds. “I only found out the other day. It’s not a long one, it’s a 10-15 second long scene and it’ll be over faster than it starts” you shake your head, getting off of the bed and heading into the bathroom to run yourself a bubble bath.

“But, why now? Why do you choose now of all times to tell me, Chris? It’s hardly the right time. You just finish screwing me and you decide to tell me that tomorrow you have to fake fuck another woman”

“It’s just Michelle, we need to, it’s for my job honey, i can’t exactly say no”

“Whatever, have fun i guess” you scoff, slamming the door in his face and locking it to stop him coming in. You need some time alone right now and a bubble bath should help to calm your angered state.

You know it’s all just part of his job, it’s his career. Kissing other women is just what it entails but it doesn’t make it any easier. He has to do sex scenes and intimacy with other actresses. You’ve always been jealous but this time it’s the way he chose to tell you more than anything.

You get into the bath, lying down and trying your hardest to relax your shoulders and your entire body but it’s no use, nothing works.

On one hand you feel bad for kicking off and getting mad, but on the other hand you don’t care.

All of these insecurities and fears are all just about you being wary of him leaving you one day. Like what if... actually no. NO. You refuse to put yourself in that mind set. You’ve been going strong with Chris for 2 years now. He loves you and you love him. But right now you need to allow yourself time to be mad.

Once you get out of the bath, you wrap a towel around your body and open the door. No sign of Chris until you start changing. That’s when he appears in the doorway, a look of worry and cautiousness. Like he’s not sure if you’re okay or if you’re still mad at him.

“I’m sorry” he finally speaks up after what feels like minutes of silence and tension “Chris, i’m tired okay” you feel so exasperated and exhausted. It’s not even just because of what happened, you’ve been working hard lately with your own career and maybe all the added stress has caused you to over react but even so, it doesn’t matter. You’re still upset.

You finish changing before walking out of the room, he follows closely behind, wondering where you are going since It’s late.

“I’m gonna sleep on the sofa”

“Please, can we just talk about it”

“Chris, seriously, let’s just leave it”

“But you’re avoiding me like the plague all because i have a sex scene to film. Like christ Y/N what do you expect me to do? Make a big deal and refuse, it’s my career” you jump at the way he raises his voice at you, he almost never raises it and what’s worse, he never does it to you.

You take a step back before responding “it’s not just about that Chris. How would you feel if the roles were reversed? Huh? If i had just finished having sex with you and then blurted out ‘oh by the way babe, i’m going to be fake screwing another man tomorrow, no biggie, love you’” you mock. Not having a single care for how petty you must sound.

“Y/N i love you, i only love you. What is it about this scene? I’ve filmed plenty of them before and you choose now to suddenly say you’re not okay with me doing them. It makes no sense”

“Of course it’s going to make no sense to you, you’re not the one that’s sat back for years and watched it. You’re not the one that’s been insecure for so long and pushed away worries of-”

“Of what? Of me leaving you? You really think some fake sex scene is going to change how i feel about you Y/N? Do you really think that low of me?” you pause for a second, looking down to the floor and spotting Dodger. He looks from you then to Chris then back to you.

You feel tears brimming in your eyes, Chris spots it instantly as he steps closer, closing the space between the two of you. He leads you over to the sofa, sitting you down on it. He kneels in between your legs, holding your hands.

“Chris, i know you love me but i just worry sometimes that with me being what famous people call a ‘regular person’ that you’d be better off with someone in the same career as you, that’s all”

He just sighs, turning away before turning back to you “I love you and that’s all there is to it Y/N. I don’t care about you not being famous, i hate that word anyway” your eyes meet his as your tears fall. He wipes them away, stroking his thumb across your cheek, in an attempt to soothe you.

“I hate fighting with you, please come to bed with me. I just want to cuddle with my girl before a long day tomorrow” you let out a small giggle, trust Chris to make you smile so easily even after an argument. It’s one of the reasons why you love him so much.

You just nod, not saying another word as he lifts you into his arms, carrying you to the bedroom and pressing kisses to your head.

He lays you down on the bed before getting in himself, he pulls the cover over the two of you “I’m glad we spoke about that” you rest your head on his chest as he throws his arm around you “me too” another forehead kiss and you’re out like a light. He listens to your light snores as you cuddle him more in your sleep and he just smiles.

Chris gets your frustrations and your worries to a certain extent. He understands how his life can get in the way, it can make you insecure. He’s an actor, you’re not. You’re not famous at all. It’s a hard thing to accept but he’ll make sure that from now on, he does everything that he can to make you feel good enough.

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

As soon as you wake and look over to Chris’s side of the bed, you realise that he’s no longer there. He had an early start with filming for Defending Jacob. So it’s not a surprise to you. Instead of feeling shit about the scene he has to do today, you pull yourself out of the funk, reminding yourself of the words he spoke to you just last night.

“I love you and that’s all there is to it”

He does love you. He won’t stray, you’re the only one for him.

You decide to shower, to take your mind off of it for now.

Once you’ve showered, you change and dry your hair before doing your makeup, maybe dolling yourself up will help? Baking is also on the agenda. He’s not back until 5pm today, an earlier finish than normal. The schedule isn’t as hectic.

So you decide that you’re going to make some dinner later, ready for when he gets back. Some chicken and pasta should do, along with a cold beer, his favourite drink. You flop down onto the couch, picking the remote up to turn Netflix on, you have some time to kill before your business meeting over Zoom. Might as well watch more Vampire Diaries.

Your laptop starts making a noise, signalling that the call is ready, you gather your notes before joining the meeting. Your face pops up as well as your colleagues. This can be your distraction for the next hour or so.

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

You finish up with dinner, putting the lid on the pot and making your way to the table with cutlery and drinks, ready for when Chris gets home. He texted that he was leaving the set, that was 10 minutes ago. He’s at least 20 minutes away. So he won’t be long.

Whilst you wait, you sit on the sofa again and you pick your book up and decide to continue reading.

“Honey” he calls out before entering the room.

Chris’s eyes fix on you, a soft smile and a look of adoration in his eyes as he walks over to give you a kiss. You pull away before he can though. His eyes scan your face for a clue as to what’s got you acting off.

“So, how was she then?”

He sighs, loudly as he gives you a look that screams ‘really Y/N’ you mean it in a sarcastic way though, just like when you ask “was she better than me?”

All of a sudden you’re being tugged further down the sofa by your legs, your book is pulled from your hands and he’s lifting up your dress, exposing your brand new laced panties. You can’t help but feel embarrassed slightly at his unsubtle and rather seductive behaviour. You don’t think twice about letting him get on with it though.

“Does daddy need to prove to you that you’re the only one for him?” a pool starts to develop, you shiver at this words and the freezing cold temperature of his hands on your bare thighs. He lifts the dress up a little more until it’s up by your chest.

He pulls you down further before his fingers hook into the panties, sliding them down and off so he can really examine you. You hear a low growl erupt from him as he licks his lips before then taking his bottom lip in between his teeth.

You whimper a little, the anticipation is all too much for you, watching him moan and groan at the sight of your soaked pussy.

Just as you try to buck your hips up, his cold hand causes you to jolt as it pushes you back down.

“Down baby, let daddy make you feel good”

And just like that, his tongue starts to lick you all over, his fingers circle your tight and needy hole, desperate for you to beg him before he plunges them deep inside of you. But words aren’t possible right now, you can’t even bring yourself to talk as he continues his assault on your sex. Licking, sucking and slurping. Even spitting on it before rubbing at your clit with his thumb, stretching it down as the rest of his hand holds you down on your stomach.

“Fuck, Chris” you moan, realising what you said after. He prefers daddy, you know this.

“Now now honey. You know that’s not my name right now, don’t you? I’ll let it go this time but i expect you to correct yourself”

“Sorry daddy”

“Good girl. Now, do you want my fingers baby?” you nod frantically, tugging at your bottom lip “yes. I do, please daddy” he shoves them into your mouth, letting you suck them until he decides that your poor cunt has suffered enough.

You hum against them before he finally removes them, wasting no time in sliding them into you, two to start off with and then a third is added.

Your back arches at the extra addition and eventually that along with his mouth wrapped around your clit is far too much for you to handle. You’re so sensitive already, you can tell the climax is nearing.

“Like this baby? Like my fingers filling you up huh?” he starts “daddy only has eyes for you princess, you should know that by now but i’ll tell you what. When we’re in bed later, i’ll prove it to you even more when i’m screaming your name as you make me cum” your walls flutter around his digits, making him smile even more, he enjoys watching you like this.

He gets a thrill out of making your world spin. When your eyes roll back, when your back arches and your toes curl. Especially when you struggle to speak. They are the best times for him. He loves knowing that he’s the only one that can get you into that state.

His fingers get faster, dragging along your walls deliciously. His tongue flicks over your clit too, sucking occasionally and now your peak is just around the corner.

“Chris. Oh god Chris. I’m gonna cum” you yell, gripping onto his hand on your tummy, which he removes as he holds it above your head. Your hips start to buck like crazy.

“That’s it baby, cum for daddy”

The coil in your stomach finally snaps, thanks to his dirty words of encouragement.

You don’t move, just lay there panting. Your heart beat is through the roof as you calm down after that intense orgasm. You’ve definitely needed that all day.

“I think we need dinner now” you say, sitting up and adjusting your dress but he just pulls you down so that you’re straddling him.

“There’s plenty more proof where that came from baby, so don’t think that was all” you feel your cheeks heat up as you suddenly go all shy.

He’s most definitely proved himself but you can’t wait for round 2.

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

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neo-princess · 3 years

Note

Hello! Could you write something about 127's reaction to hearing their s/o is insecure about their cellulite(more specifically on their thighs)? Thank you so much in advance. Your posts make me happy 😌

Awe thank you so much, I’m glad I can make you happy! And another thing! I have cellulite as well! I am not thin, but I’m not too big either. Cellulite can happen to anyone, and you guys have nothing to be ashamed of. It’s beautiful, you’re beautiful remember that!

⇢ TAEIL ༊*·˚

Taeil hates when his s/o gets down on themselves, especially about their body. He tries his best to make sure they don’t think that way, because then it upsets him to see them upset. “Not again.” He’d murmer to himself, hearing their words. Getting up from his spot on the couch where he sat reading a book, he walked into the bathroom. Finding them looking in the at the cellulite on their thighs. “I just can’t get over it.” They’d sigh, looking at their reflection in the mirror. “Baby please,” Taeil started, pulling his s/o close to him. “I want you to understand that that you are gorgeous/handsome, with our without it. It shouldn’t get you down. This is apart of you that I love, I love every part of you. I want you to realize this, it’s very important to me that you know this.” He’d speak. He knew he’d have to tell them more times in the future, but he’d keep telling them until they believed it to be true.

⇢JOHNNY ༊*·˚

Johnny is always someone who will try to boost the confidence of anyone. Especially of his s/o who he is dedicated to loving and cherishing. “Babe are you ready? I think everyone is almost there.” He’d call from his place in the bathroom. He’d been fixing his hair while his s/o got dressed, but noticed they were taking a bit of time. “I was but, my thighs..the shorts...I have to take them off.” They said. Johnny clicked off the bathroom light, walking into the bedroom. “What do you mean? What’s wrong with the shorts you look great, so great.” He’d smirk, putting a hand in their back pocket. “No johnny I’m serious, look at my thighs in these.” They whined, pulling his hand out of their pocket. “Babe, what are you talking about? You look amazing.” Johnny said. To which he was met with the back of them as they searched for something else instead. “Babe.” He spoke, sitting down on the edge of the bed and pulling them on his lap. “Listen to me, seriously. You’re worried about it when you have no reason to. I’m telling you I love it, it’s perfect.” He spoke, rubbing the skin of their thighs. “You don’t think it looks bad? The cellulite?” They’d asked. Johnny connected his gaze with theirs, shaking his head ‘no’. “I wouldn’t change it for the world, you know that.”

⇢TAEYONG ༊*·˚

Taeyong sort of took is personally, when his s/o was down on themselves. He wished he could make their worries about their body go away, becuse he loved it more than they’d ever understand. But he couldn’t, and that’s what made him upset with himself. “Wow..you look so beautiful/handsome.” He’d smile, eyes lighting up as his s/o changed into their dress for the evening. “Really?” They’d asked, as if they had completely different views on how they looked in it. “Yes? You don’t think so?” Taeyong would question. He was quite confused, thinking anyone would agree with him. “Not really, the cellulite on my this makes it all look bad to me.” They said, looking over into the mirror. “No, no, no. That’s not true, how could you say that? You look amazing!” He’d protest. He wouldn’t let anyone talk badly about his s/o, even if it was his s/o themselves. “Taeyong seriously? You don’t see it?” They’d sigh. “See what? A beautiful person? A person who doesn’t know they’re amazingly stunning? You’re thighs are perfect to me, I don’t understand why they aren’t to you.” He’d say, getting up from his spot on the bed, walking over and taking their hand. “Don’t worry about it, it’s already perfect.”

⇢YUTA ༊*·˚

They’d been living with Yuta for a little over 6 months now. In those 6 months Yuta had already realized how much they were down on themselves. “Baby come here, I wanna cuddle please!” He called from the bedroom as his s/o was finishing up getting dressed after their shower. “Just a minute.” they’d laugh, gathering their things to head back to the bedroom. “Oh you’re so cute when you wear panties/boxers to bed.” Yuta smiled, opening his arms for them. “No I was gonna ask if I could narrow a pair of sweatpants, you don’t wanna see this.” They said. Yuta’s brows furrowed as he tiled his head in confusion. “What are you talking about?” He’d question. “You don’t wanna see all of this cellulite.” They’d said gesturing to their thighs. “What are you talking about? I’ve seen your thighs before I don’t understand.” Yuta was highly confused, sitting up now. “Yuta, my thighs have cellulite on them. So I’ll put on sweatpants so that you don’t have to see it.” They’d explain. “No stop that, I don’t care about that. You look amazing, you always do, you always have. Come to bed now, don’t think bad of yourself when you’re perfect.” Yuta shook his head, reaching to take his s/o’s hand so he could pull them to bed and get his cuddles.

⇢DOYOUNG ༊*·˚

Doyoung was shocked to find out how much his s/o disliked the state of their thighs. He’d always found them to be cute and nice pillows if he’s being honest. He never understood how they could dislike their gorgeous body so much. “What did you ask me?” Doyoung asked, wondering if he heard that question right. “Does the cellulite on my thighs make me look bad in this?” His s/o asked. Doyoung heard right, and just stood with a confused face. “What’s all this about? Why do you not like your body?” He’d question, taking their hand. “You don’t think it looks bad? Haven’t you see other people’s thighs, people that don’t have cellulite?” They’d asked. “Sure. But I’m not with them, I don’t care about them. I care about you and right now, you’re being very unfair to yourself.” He’d say. “I love you for who you are, inside and out. Everything about you I love, your body included, your thighs included, your cellulite included.” Doyoung spoke, truly. “So no, if your asking me if it makes you like bad, my answer is no it could never.”

⇢JAEHYUN ༊*·˚

Jaehyun loved to spoil his s/o with lingerie. And he even loved the fashion shows he got when they were trying them on. But he started to realize how much their self image of their body, made them more and more insecure about wearing lingerie. “Babe is this one hard to get on? I’m excited to see it on you.” He’d say from outside the dressing room. “Jaehyun come here.” They’d say, not wanting to walk out. “You’re not gonna come out?” He’d reply, wondering if something was wrong. “Please come here.” His s/o sighed. “Alright, alright here I come.” Jaehyun stood from his place on the bench, walking into the dressing room with his s/o. “Oh but it’s on, you look great baby, what’s wrong?” He’d question, placing a hand on their hip as he scanned their body. “This one shows so much, it doesn’t have stocking to go with it. It shows the cellulite on my thighs.” They’d complain. “That’s what this is about?” Jaehyun asked, chuckling a bit. “Glad you think it’s funny.” Thud scoffed, shoving his hand off them. “I think it’s funny that you think I’d be turned off by cellulite. I like your thighs baby, the thicker the better, cellulite just come with it sometimes. That’s doesn’t mean you still don’t turn me on, cause trust me you do.”

⇢ WINWIN༊*·˚

For the longest time winwin had a thing for using his s/o’s thighs in place of a pillow. Mostly when they were laying on the couch together watching a movie or such. But recently, his s/o hasn’t been letting him do that. Winwin smiled, seeing his s/o laying on the couch. He was hoping he could lay on them, their thighs specifically. Laying down on the couch he barely placed his head on their thigh before being pushed off. “Heyyy.” Hes pout, looking back up at them. “Don’t do that.” They’d say. “Why not? I used to do it all the time? Why won’t you let me?” Winwin whined, feeling pretty upset about this. “Because, I didn’t notice my cellulite back then. I don’t want you to see it up close.” They’d reply. To which winwin looked down at their thighs. “Sicheng!” “What I don’t understand!” Winwin would move a hand to to rub the skin of their thighs gently. “I love your thighs, they’re so cute. I don’t think the cellulite matters to me at all, I still love them.” He’d say, planting a soft peck on them both. “And you should too.” Winwin sisd before lying his head back down on their thigh, this tome his head was staying there.

⇢JUNGWOO ༊*·˚

Jungwoo loved going to beach with his s/o. It was always fun, but they never got in the water and he didn’t understand why. “I’m gonna go in the water now, are you gonna come with me baby?” He’d asked. “No you know, I don’t wanna be get my coverup wet.” They’d say, just dismissing it. “You’re not gonna take it off? You always keep it on. I don’t even know what you look like in to it bathing suit.” He chuckled, but noticed they weren’t laughing with him. “What’s wrong baby?” Jungwoo asked, pulling them close to him. He kissed their forehead sensing that they were sad. “It’s just my cellulite you know, on my thighs. I’d rather just wear the cover up to..ya know...cover it up.” They’d reply. “Nothing needs to be covered up, I’ve seen your thighs only a handful of times. But enough to know that you are so seeing something wrong, I mean they’re so pretty. Just come in the water with me alright? It’s okay, you look amazing.” He’d smiled. Standing up he reached his hand out for his s/o to take, and they did.

⇢MARK ༊*·˚

Mark was usually down on himself for small things but they weren’t too serious, and didn’t happen often. But he always felt the need to protect his s/o from the things they were down on themselves on. “Babe are you okay? You don’t seem like yourself today.” Mark said, blopping down beside his s/o on the bed in their apartment. “Yeah I’m okay.” They huffed, not really wanting to worry him about their insecurities. But Mark knew them well, knowing that this is one of their habits. “Are you really okay? Or do you just not want me to worry?” He asked, looking over at them. “Maybe.” “You know you can tell me anything.” Mark said, taking their hand, intertwining their fingers together. “Well, it’s stupid. It’s just when I was showering earlier the cellulite on my thighs...it just really bothers me.” They sighed, looking over at Mark now. “Babe, please don’t be down on your body. You’re amazing, and you always look amazing. I promise it’s nothing that you shouldn’t like. It just means that you have great thighs I think.” Mark smirked playfully. “You think so?” They smiled. “Oh, totally.” Mark chuckled, pecking their cheek.

⇢ HAECHAN༊*·˚

Haechan was definitely a thigh guy, it was one his favorite physical things about his s/o. His s/o knew this but, they didn’t understand why. “Okay, so what’s your favorite things about me?” They asked. They were playing a questions game, and this was one of the questions that were for Haechan. “Oh this is easy one. Your smile, your laugh and your thighs.” He said, giving them a cheaky wink. “My thighs?” They whined. “Yeah, but I thought you knew this already? I tell you all the time I love your thighs.” Haechan smiled, squeezing them as they were visible from the shorts his s/o was wearing. “But I thought you changed it.” They laughed. Haechan was confused, not understanding why he’d change what he liked about them. “Why would I change it?” He questioned. “Because doesn’t the cellulite bother you?” They asked. “Huh? You think something at small would ever stop me from loving your body and your thighs?” Haechan asked giving them a shocked and offended look to make them laugh, to which they did. “You are crazy. No it doesn’t bother me, they’re still amazing.” He chuckled.

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arminbitchlover · 3 years

Text

the moon is beautiful, isn't it? (1)

pairing: connie springer x gn! reader

content warnings: mention of vomit, blood, angst, & death

summary: chapter 138 spoilers / you and connie have been in love for years, falling for each other at the exact same moments. one night, connie tries to hint his feelings towards you on top of utgard's castle, but you don't catch it, so connie shrugs it off. a few years later, during the rumbling, connie decides that it's finally time to admit how he feels.

song recommendations : the swans by: camille saint-saëns, gymnopédie no. 1 by: erik satie, nocturne no. 2 in e flat op.9 no. 2 by: frédéric chopin, and mia and sebastian's theme by: justin hurwitz

word count 4.1k

DO NOT POST/SHARE ANY PART OF MY WORK ON TIKTOK

This is the end.

You lay on the stone floor atop Utgard castle, gazing at the stars while reminiscing on all the memories you made with your friends.

Everything is becoming too much for you; nobody knows how titans are infiltrating the walls if there's no breach, you still have no idea where Eren, Mikasa, and Armin are, and now you're left with no ODM gear to fight in case titans were to take over your refuge.

You feel completely utterly useless.

"It was a good run," You mutter to yourself, feeling the lump in your throat get stronger.

You're not ready to give it all up, your life as a scout was just about to begin. You've met so many people that mean so much to you, especially him.

You won't ever forget when you first met him; Sasha introduced him as her bestfriend and you instantly fell in love with everything about him; his eyes, his voice, his laugh, and his sense of humor, just everything about him is absolutely perfect.

You continue your search for constellations amongst the stars, trying to distract your mind from the harsh reality.

"Hey." You hear a voice come from the door and you turn to have your eyes meet with golden brown orbs.

It's him.

"Connie." You sit up, moving your legs close to your chest with your jacket spread across them.

You feel your face start to heat up as he gets closer to you. You could never understand why he has such an effect on you, he could do the slightest thing and your heart will always skip a beat.

"Mind if I sit?" He walks towards you, one of his hands scratching the back of his neck.

"Be my guest." You gesture on the empty spot next to you, feeling your heartbeat start to quicken as you immediately catch his scent while he settles in next to you.

You glance down and see that your hands are only an inch maybe centimeters apart; god, how bad you wanted to hold it to make you feel better. You look back up, worried that he may have seen but notice that his gaze is fixated on the stars.

"Beautiful, right?" You move your focus back to the night sky.

Almost as beautiful as him.

"Sure beats this shithole," He chuckles.

"Yeah, it sure does..." You trail off, looking back down to the floor while fidgeting with your fingers.

Silence thickens between the two of you, but not the awkward kind when nobody knows what to say, rather the kind that just wants to savor each other's presence. You enjoy it, worried that if you were to say something you might burst into tears from panic, anger, confusion, and sadness.

“...Christa told me you were up here.” He turns to you, sharing a sympathetic look.

“Yeah, I- um told her I would spend some time here for a bit before sleeping.” You take in a deep breath and rub the back of your neck.

You didn't dare overload Connie with your feelings. It wasn't because you thought he would shove them under the rug or tell you to suck it up, but you were fully aware what he was going through as well.

“We’re going to be okay, you know.” He reads you like a book, seeing through your calm demeanor and knowing you were just a ball of anxiety ready to burst at any moment.

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"We're going to be okay, you know." Connie laughs, helping you undo your ODM gear.

"Ugh, I wish! This training will be the death of me, I swear." You giggle and place your gear on the table.

You love the way he makes you smile. Even when your body is on the verge of extreme fatigue and exhaustion, he somehow always made you feel a bit better about the whole situation.

"If it makes you feel any better, we're finally having a hot dinner." He places his gear next to yours and you both walk to the dining room.

"As great as that does sound, I just need to get this gunk and sweat off of me." You feel disgusted with yourself, thinking about the number of hours you spent outdoors in the heat.

"Yeah that too, you smell like a Titan just threw up on you," He playfully jokes, already speeding up his pace as he knows what's about to come next.

"Asshole!" You laugh and chase him down the hall.

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It was strange, you could be on opposite sides of the world, but he always knows if something was bothering you, like an invisible tether always kept the two of you in sync.

“You don't know that, Connie.” Your eyes start to get glossy, looking back up to try and hold back your tears.

You can't understand why everything in your life has to end up so shitty. For once you just want to save lives and be the hero that everyone needed after the Shiganshina incident, but you can't even do that.

“Y/n.” He scoots closer to you, gently pulling your head to his chest as he lightly traces your back.

You hold your breath and become stiff as you hear Connie’s heartbeat. Fuck, you'll never get used to this, no matter how many times it happens. Having him comfort you when everything was going wrong and assuring you not to worry and that it was all going to work out, made you forget all your problems for a moment.

"No regrets though, right?" He lightens up the mood with an inside joke.

"No regrets." You smile and feel yourself melt into his embrace.

You love the way he makes you feel, whether you're upset, sad, frustrated, or maybe just hungry, he always finds a way to make your day not so shitty.

“Why are you doing this?” You ask while you bury your head into his chest, feeling like this is too good to be true.

You feel his chest stop moving and his arm stay still. Silence once again takes over and lingers in the air.

"I mean, after what you found out about your family, I-" He cuts you off.

“I… just really care about you.” And he isn’t lying, he cares about you more than you could imagine.

What you didn't know was that he has been in love with you ever since the day Sasha introduced you as a member of her training squad. He adores everything about you: your voice, your lips, the way your eyes lit up when you ramble about things you're passionate about, and your wits, just everything about you is absolutely perfect.

It didn't take him long to realize he had fallen head over heels for you months ago, but he couldn't tell you. There's no possible way in his eyes for everything to work out if he tells you. He knows the risks of everyone’s lives when it comes to being a scout. He can't bear the thought of becoming more attached to you than he already is and know that he might not have you the next day.

“I care about you too.” You hide your wide grin, relishing this moment for as long as you could.

“Y-You do?” Connie chokes, causing you to pull away and make eye contact.

“Of course I do, why wouldn't I?” You immediately inhale a sharp breath, scared that you may have said something wrong.

‘I need to do it now.’ Connie’s thoughts start to cloud his mind. ‘If this is it, I need her to know.’

“I just… I don't know. Forget it.” He opens up his arm again, inviting you back into his chest.

You brush it off, not wanting to ruin what you already have, and lean back into him. You start copying his breathing, finding comfort that you never thought you would never find again.

You close your eyes for bit, trying your best to memorize everything in the moment. The material of his shirt, his warm skin against yours, the light breeze that hits your face, everything.

“The uh- the moon is beautiful, isn't it?” He quietly stammers, and you immediately feel his heartbeat begin to pound and so does yours.

It can't be.

You know exactly what that means, but does he? Was he just saying that because the full moon that illuminates the hills genuinely looks beautiful? He has to be, right? This night was already beginning to feel like a dream, there’s no way he means what you want it to.

“Yeah, I guess.” You wince as you hear the words fall from your mouth.

You sit in silence yet again, but this time filled with unwanted tension. While your head is spinning with a million thoughts, Connie can't help but feel anger with himself. Why couldn't he just come out and say it? Did you not know what he meant or did you really just reject him?

"It's getting a bit cold, so I'm gonna head inside. You coming?" You put on your jacket, avoiding eye contact to hide the tears that were on the verge of falling down your face.

"Nah, I'm going to um- stay up here a bit." He clears his throat and kees his gaze fixated to the moon.

"Oh alright, well goodnight, Connie." You weakly smile and walk away.

"Goodnight, y/n." He whispers, not loud enough for you to hear.

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chapter 138 spoilers

"Y/n, we need to go get Armin, now." Mikasa snaps you out of your thoughts.

"But Connie? He has to be near here somewhere, I-I just know it." Panic sinks in as you scan through the battle of the titan shifters to find your lover.

"Y/N SNAP OUT OF IT!" You slightly jump and turn to her, her face becoming flushed with red.

"Sh- Sorry, right, Armin." You shake your head, covering Mikasa as she makes her way towards the pig-type titan.

It's been 4 years ever since that night on Utgard's castle and you remember every second of it. A day never went by when you didn't think back to that moment and wonder what could've been if you had said something different, but you couldn't and you hate yourself for that.

Nothing changed between the two of you, if anything you feel a lot closer than before. You or Connie never address that night, as if it never happened, and you were somewhat fine with that. It hurts that your gut feeling of him not having feelings for you was accurate, but that's okay, because you would always still have him by your side even if it was just a close friendship.

"Y/N!" You look behind you and see him coming at you at full speed.

"CONNIE!" You feel a bit of weight being lifted off your shoulders, seeing only one visible injury.

He joins you side by side to defend Mikasa, noticing the number of titan shifters making their way towards you was too much for you to handle.

"Are you okay?" Connie defends you as you briskly check the state of your weapons.

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"Are you okay?" Connie rushes to your side, inspecting the cut on your cheek.

"Yeah, I just have to be more careful with the branches." You wince as you feel his finger graze your injury.

"Well, we're definitely not racing anymore." He looks into your eyes and smiles.

"You're just saying that cause you know I'm better with ODM gear." You giggle and get back up, brushing off the dirt that caught on your equipment.

"You wish!" He blasts off, not giving you a chance to ready up again.

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"MIKASA HURRY!" Your anxiety starts rushing through you, ignoring Connie's question as you notice your blades were on the verge of giving out.

You see her make a quick glance towards you before zooming towards the titan that trapped Armin and quickly slices his jaw open. Before you know it, you see Connie soar in your peripheral vision to the tongue that entangled Armin and slice him free.

"ANNIE!" Connie screams out, making his way back to you and wrapping his arm around your waist.

You feel the tiny butterflies you always get when he's near you and admire his perfections for a second.

"I'm getting us out of here," He assures you as he looks into your eyes, instantly melting all the worry and panic that stirred up inside you.

"O-Okay." You whisper, the wind harshly hitting your face as Connie moves both of you to the top of Eren's titan, getting Falco's attention.

While Falco flies his way towards you, you gaze upon everything that is going on around you. You start feeling overwhelmed again, too much was going on at once. You see Jean and Pieck trying to make their way towards the Founding Titan's head but get trampled by shifters, Annie holding Armin as he recovers, and Levi and Gabi shooting their gun at every titan.

"What is- is happening?" Your voice cracks and you hang your head low with your eyes shut.

"We should've fucking known ever since Eren decided to infiltrate Marley, but it's okay. We're okay." He gives you a weak smile and a slight squeeze on your waist for reassurance.

Falco reaches the both of you and board his back with Levi and Gabi.

"Are you guys okay?" You can slightly hear the concern in Levi's monotone voice.

"Yeah, we're fine," Connie answers, completely disregarding the gash that was dripping blood on his forehead.

"We need to help Jean and Pieck." You chime in, watching them struggle their way to the neck.

"No, we-" Levi cuts himself off when he hears his name being called out by a familiar male voice.

The five of you see a blonde man with only half a body attached to one of the Founding Titan's ribs.

Zeke.

While you see his lips moving, you can't make out what he's saying. He begins waving around his arms, successfully capturing Levi's attention, but in a blink of an eye, he's dead.

Levi decapitated him.

You hear a slight gasp come from Gabi's mouth and immediately see tears start to swell up. You quickly pull her into a hug, rubbing her back as you try to soothe her.

"It's okay, Gabi. We're okay." You whisper in her ear, slightly rocking back and forth.

While you didn't know or care for Zeke much, you know how much Gabi saw him as another father, an uncle.

"I-I need my- my parents." She hiccups into your chest.

You can't imagine what's going through her mind. All of her plans to become a warrior and making her family proud was all gone. You remember what that felt like, thinking throughout your whole life that titans were your enemy and Eren would be the solution for it all, but you couldn't have been more wrong.

"I promise, I'll get them to you." You bury her head into your chest and stay still, forgetting where you are for a second.

You and Gabi share a weird relationship, especially after everything that happened with Sasha, but you were somewhat like the older sibling she never had. You nurture her when things become too overwhelming or when she was worried someone would kill Falco for her doing. It was strange for you at first, caring for someone who you thought was the enemy, but was really just a twelve year old girl who was taught the wrong things, all to be treated as a 'good Eldian'.

"The- The rumbling stopped." You turn to Connie and furrow your eyebrows.

"Wha-"

"He's right, look." Gabi points to the titans that were completely still in place, but the titan shifters were still moving in battle.

Bizarre.

"JEAN! PIECK! GO!" Levi's yell snaps you out of your thoughts, watching him fly back to Falco's titan.

You feel your heart start to pound and chest begin to tighten. This is the moment that would define the rest of your life. If Jean and Pieck weren't successful, then there's nothing left for you. Everything you and the scouts worked for would be done, ruined, over.

"God, let Jean be okay." You hear Connie mumble under his breath.

"He will." You instinctively grab his hand and give him a slight nod.

He nods back and you both turn back and watch Jean soar to the head with the TNT box. You feel him squeeze your hand, becoming more anxious as seconds passed.

"STUPID LITTLE SUICIDAL BLOCKHEAD," Jean screams at the top of his lungs, before setting off the bomb that decapitated the Founding Titan's head.

You keep your eyes on Jean, making sure that nothing is seriously wrong and to your relief, he's unharmed.

"JEAN," Connie cries out, tears streaming down his face from alleviation.

He immediately pulls you in for a hug, causing your face to start heating up. While this wasn't the first time you and Connie hugged, it always makes you feel like it's your first all over again. You wrap your arms around him, savoring this moment for what thankfully feels like an eternity. You feel his body heat radiate against yours, warming you up from the cold winds that coat you.

In the corner of your eye, you see Reiner struggling with the cord that connects with the Founding Titan's head. Wrapping his arms and slamming it to the base of the ribcage, holding it down for as long as possible.

"Shit, it's going back for the head. ARMIN, NOW," Levi commands, stirring Falco to Jean and Pieck.

God you hate what's about to come next. The loud noise, the bright light, the endless destruction that's always created, and the lost lives were things you loathe to witness.

"JEAN! PIECK! ARMIN'S GOING TO BLOW THESE BONES TO PIECES! WE NEED TO GET AWAY QUICK!" Connie reaches his hand out, pulling both of them onto Falco's back as Annie and Mikasa make their way as well.

"But Reiner-" Pieck cuts Jean off.

"The Armored Titan should be able to withstand the Colossal Titan's explosion. And most of all, Reiner's prepared for the consequences."

Her words feel like a stab in the chest to everyone listening. Even though Reiner was a traitor in the beginning of this mess, it doesn't take away the great memories you made with everyone and the thought of maybe losing him too was a lot to take in.

"She's right, Jean. We need to go." You put a hand on his shoulder, trying to give him some type of support as you hope that your words help you too.

"Y-Yeah, of course." He slightly shakes his head as Falco flies away.

While you're hundreds of feet in the air, all of your eyes are glued to the titan shifters, watching Armin's explosion destroy everything in its way, including the monsters that fought you and your friends. Although the sight wasn't pleasant in the slightest, you can't help but notice the pit that you had in your stomach was gone.

"Is this it?" You weakly smile, feelings of ease and nervousness begin to overpower everything else.

You haven't felt this much hope in years. The deaths of your fallen comrades weren't in vain; it meant something now.

"See, I told you we would be okay, y/n." He wrapped his arms around your shoulders, leaning his head against yours.

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"See, I told you we would be okay, y/n." Connie grins as you put on your new Survey Corps jacket.

"Geez, I never thought I would ever see the day." You admire yourself, not knowing that Connie's doing the same thing.

You feel nothing but excitement when the leather hits your skin. All the hours, blood, sweat, and tears you put into your training was all worth it. You can finally be the hero you've always wanted to be.

"Well, here we are." He lightly pats your back and chuckles.

"Yeah, here we are." You hand him his new jacket and admire how great he looks as a new scout.

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"You're always right," You giggle, snaking your arms around his waist and holding him a bit too tightly.

You both bask in each other's presence, enjoying the thought of planning out your new future. As you close your eyes and enjoy the breeze, Connie can't help but adore how perfect you look in his arms. Every time you share a moment like this, he can't help but get flashbacks from that night. He knows how badly he messed up, he should've just straightforwardly said what he always wants to confess to you but he couldn't and he hates himself for that.

He can't recall what number this was for all the times both of your lives were at risk. The times he would forget what his mission was and sought out for you if he lost sight of you. It always takes him back to the same thought, 'You have to tell them before the day comes that you can't.' It's an ongoing battle with his mind and he always comes back to the same conclusion, 'I can't get more attached, not if there's a possibility I could lose them tomorrow.'

But no, this time he feels different, he senses that something's different about this. He suddenly feels queasiness and pulls away from you. 'No, no more hiding it.'

"Is everything okay, Connie?" You feel his body tense up as you give him a concerned look.

"No, it's not, y/n, I've been needing to tell you something, for a while now actually." He scratches the back of his neck and avoids making eye contact.

"What's wrong..?" You trail off, having your mind go a million miles per hour.

"Nothing- Nothing terrible but, y/n-"

"MY PARENTS," Gabi yells out, pointing at the crowd below you.

You and Connie snap out of your conversation, leaning over to the side and see a group of people staring up at Falco.

He lands his titan and Gabi immediately flees into the arms of her parents, Pieck doing the same with her father. You can't help but feel a bit of happiness after all of this, Jean stopped the rumbling, Armin killed off Eren, and all the people you love are safe from this never-ending war.

"We did the right thing, didn't we? I mean with what we did to Eren." You change your focus back to Connie.

"Of course we did, look at the amount of lives we saved, y/n. So, no regrets, right?" He playfully collides his shoulder with yours.

"No regrets." You smile and make your way towards Jean.

Your heart always skips a beat when he says that, you think of it as your own little thing that only you two share. Every time you feel like everything in your life is going wrong, he always reminds you that even if things were to go to shit it would be okay because you have no regrets.

"Can't believe I did that," Jean mumbles, still in a state of shock.

"You did what you had to, Jean." You console him as Connie chimes in.

"Don't bring yourself down, Eren brought this among himself."

You can never forgive Eren for what did over the years. It was apparent from the beginning, but you were to naive and filled with hope to see it. Now, this is different, you lost some of the most important people in your life for his doing. There's no going back from that.

"Y-Yeah, you're right." He brings the two of you in for a group hug, leaving a space in the middle for Sasha.

"She would be proud of us, you know?" You feel a tear run down your cheek as you speak.

Fuck, you miss her so much. All the fun and stupid memories you made with her flash through your mind. All the way back to your first moments meeting her, Connie holding her back from eating all the meat during dinner; to your final moments together, cheering for a successful raid on Liberio.

"She is." Connie corrects you, a smile forms across his face.

"Yeah, she is." Jean starts tearing up, grateful for another day to be alive.

"REINER," Gabi screams, causing the three of you to interrupt your moment and go by the ledge and see something you never thought you would.

You see the centipede that Jean exploded continue to move as if nothing ever affected it. Luckily, Reiner and Armin's titans look unharmed, but you immediately feel the pit in your stomach start to come back.

"See Gabi, he's fine, ever-" Connie gets cut off by another extreme explosion.

You feel nauseous as you see what emerges.

"He-He's alive?" Your voice trembles, all the hope and happiness you just shared obliviates in a second.

Eren's titan.

"No way." Connie gasps, his body starts to shake with fear.

"What do we do now?" Mikasa's voice cracks, wanting everything to come to an end.

You can't believe it. Every fucking time you think that everything will finally work out for you, something always changes. You always end up losing someone, witnessing things that no one should ever be forced to see, and always feel empty in the end.

"We can't let Eren come into contact with the shining thing! Who knows what'll happen!" Gabi tries to pull everyone's focus back into the war and luckily, it works.

"She's right, we have to kill that thing, no matter what." Connie's voice becoming slightly deeper at the end of his sentence.

"Don't you get it? How can we kill a thing that survived Armin's explosion? We need to go for Eren." Levi's command lingers in the air.

"There has to be another way. AGH!" Mikasa starts gasping for air as she starts tightly gripping her head.

Before you could go by Mikasa's side, you notice smoke coming from afar. You don't think much of it, just assuming it was debris from the explosion, but no.

You scan everyone's faces, instantly seeing some of your comrades faces turn into pure terror. This couldn't be what they think it is. This isn't how it's supposed it, how it's supposed to end. It has to be some kind of machine malfunction that's just giving out tons of smoke. It has to be something else than the thing you fear most.

"Isn't this smoke the same thing they did.. at Ragako?" Connie's face becomes overwhelmed with horror and anguish.

"N-No..." You fall to your knees and bury your hands to your face, not being able to come to terms with what's going to happen next.

This is the end.

"Hey, Hey, look at me." Connie's voice never sounding so calm before.

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"Hey, Hey, look at me." Connie wraps his arms around you as tears cascade down your cheeks and soak his shirt.

"Wh- Why her?" You hiccup, feeling your chest begin to tighten and your head spin from hours of crying.

Your best friend's dead.

You can't hug her anymore, tell her any scouts gossip, or scold her when she stole your food. You can't go to her room in the middle of the night and have her comfort you when your nightmares felt too real. She's gone, forever.

"I wish I had an answer for you... shit-" He starts breaking down right in front of you, both of you begin to cry in each other's arms.

You hate this, fucking hate this. You've dealt with the deaths of your squad members and scouts but nothing like the way you feel right now.

You need to escape, you need to get rid of these awful feelings that were eating you up inside, but no matter how much you may want to escape this shithole with the only person you love, you can't.

"B-But we still have each other, right?" Connie's voice trembles, his grip becoming tighter, thinking if he lets go he'll somehow lose you too.

"Always."

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He grabs your chin and leaves your faces just inches apart. All of the yelling and cries drown out as you solely focus on your soulmate.

"No regrets, right?" He wipes your tears away with his thumb.

"No regrets." You barely let a whisper, savoring his embrace one last time.

You feel a hand touch your shoulder and you look up to see Jean, seemingly relaxed.

"So this is how it ends for us." Connie brings Jean into your hug.

"Guess so," Jean replies, acting as if this wasn't the end.

"You know I blame both of you for all this, making me end up with the job of saving humanity." You joke, making the most of your final moment with your best friends.

"Yeah yeah, and take that to your grave." Jean chuckles as he slightly squeezes Connie's shoulder.

Connie glances Jean a confused look, seemingly not aware of the next few seconds. Immediately his eyes widen, finally accepting that this was it for you and him, and he never got to tell you.

"Y/n, there's something I need to tell b-before this is all over. Something I-I should've told you years ago." He speeds up his words, slightly stumbling.

"Yes?" Your heart drops to your stomach and you can't help but wonder if he was going to tell you what you've been waiting for since the day you met him.

"Y/n I-"

a/n : yes, i took some direct quotes from 138 & yes, i switched up dialogue between characters and actions from the book to make more sense with the reader.

#tw: death #aot chapter 138 #aot spoilers #snk spoilers #snk chapter 138 #connie springer x reader #connie springer #aot x gn!reader #attack on titan #attack on titan x reader #connie springer x gn! reader #tw: blood #aot x reader

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herstarburststories · 3 years

Text

illicit love

Pairing: Jensen Ackles x reader

Summary: Jensen loves you, but sometimes love isn’t the right thing.

A/N: Hey, guys! All we needed was a newish fic to say that I was really back, here it is! This one goes for @negans-lucille-tblr 6k challenge. So glad you got to another millestone, honey. It's like I was posting my part for your 5k celebration just yesterday! xD Prompt in bold.

Warnings: age gap, cheating

Jensen Ackles kept squinting through the bricks of his memory in an attempt to recall where it all began. Maybe it was when he drove off the road he had known for years with the dumbfounded desire to take the trails yet traveled, threading his fingers through your hair on the night of September 7th. He could’ve chosen the easy out and say it all started to crumble with the first kiss, but no. The actor, father, and now horrible husband highly doubted that. No, as he unwound the convoluted wires in his mind, it wasn’t the first clandestine meeting that he saw as the beginning, not the first kiss or the primal stolen glances. It wasn’t even the lies or the way he pushed his body against yours in an act of illicit faith.

Like any grand mistake, it was way before that. Just like how the church not-so-gently advised, it all starts with craving something you never thought you would want.

It happened when he landed the job in a new series after leaving a fifteen-year-long rollercoaster, pushing away any real witness to the fact the old show that swallowed part of his soul was over. There was a certain shock of excitement misplaced by the fact he was going to be working with Eric again, and that the show was an abrupt change considering what he had been doing previously. Now, he believed it was his body’s particular way of telling him that — as the savage animals can sense rain or a calamity — this, baby, this is gonna change your life.

JENSEN ACKLES CAST AS SOLDIER BOY!

‘’Since when have you read comics?’’ Jensen arched his messy eyebrows at Dee’s curiosity about the Homelander and Soldier Boy panel making it to the screen. Shaking the comic book in his right hand slightly, he continued: ‘’Especially that kind.’’

‘’Never,’’ Danneel stated plainly, “but I have Google. It was pretty much the first thing that appeared.’’

‘’Well, Eric said that scene won't be on the screen. Besides, the portrayal won't be that Soldier Boy, but the original one who died in the war. ‘Course, he wouldn’t have died there in our show, but it ain’t the panel one.’’ He shrugged, bringing her closer to his side as she snuggled against him. ‘’There’ll be a bunch of Herogasm, which is basically drugs and sex. Just not with Homelander.’’

Danneel nodded at his explanation, humor clinging to her words as she added: ‘’Guess the only man I have to share you with is still Jared.’’

‘’Hey, you knew what you were getting yourself into.’’ Jensen scoffed playfully before kissing her cheek. ‘’Can't wait to start the show.’’

Jensen leaned forward to rest the comic that he had been religiously studying to form a psychological character profile on the dashboard of the Impala. The actor was spending plenty of hours inside his most palpable Supernatural souvenir -- Baby. His safe place. He sure as hell needed one of those, as molding a whole character that has a bunch of source material wasn’t as easy as he pictured. With Dean, he was putting himself and the script in one until it made his imaginary best friend. It was love at the first sight. Soldier Boy, however, was a long story short. Jensen figured he should do both, honor the character created and add his own special ingredients to it. It was a brand new kind of passion that he hadn’t done for a series in the longest time. Still, his glance trailed back to the woman by his side in the backseat.

‘’Let's hope it won't last another decade,” she mocked.

Jensen shook his head with a chuckle, relaxing against the leather seat. Even the mere smell of the Impala was enough to settle his nerves. ‘’Eric has plans for five seasons.’’

Danneel’s features contorted as if having war flashbacks. Sort of. She never imagined Supernatural would make it that far, and now with three kids, signing on for another excessively time-consuming idea for a new show didn’t seem too appealing either. Yet, she would support Jensen in any decision he’d take regarding his job. “Remind me the last time I heard that line before?”

‘’Come on.’’ He let out a wry huff, poking her side in a playful manner. She couldn't help but laugh, returning the gesture with tickles to start a very light-hearted battle. He seemed happy with the new job, something Danneel truly thought he would have more difficulty with. She’d pushed her weathered worries away with his easy-going laughter for now.

SOLDIER BOY’S LOVE INTEREST?

Eric Kripke threw the gossip magazine on the table, his eyes not straying from his long-time friend’s. He could’ve simply added the digital article to an irate email and be done with it, but he was a simple man with extravagant taste. That had been usual through his whole career, especially regarding the Supernatural aesthetic. Yet, in those mundane situations, Jensen almost found it too much. That wasn’t the case, though. If anything, the plain, yet still overpowering words that his green eyes scanned made his body sweat. He could even hear his organs working from the absolute silence of the blame that covered the room. Kripke’s room had never seemed more like an interrogation chamber than now.

The magazine in question held Jensen and your picture on the cover, his arms wrapped around your torso as he pulled you close. The most sequin smile hung from your lips like happiness was something that could be touched on that sunny day in the private park near the studio. Giant and garish letters made the headline along with the subline: Jensen Ackles wearing his Soldier Boy costume caught sharing a passionate kiss with the new arrival of The Boy’s Team: Y/N Y/L/N, also known on-screen as Cangaceira!

His voice came out as an accusation: ‘’What’s this, Jensen?’’

‘’We were…’’ The director just waved his hand to interrupt.

‘’Don’t try saying you were practicing a scene because I wrote the Soldier Boy and Cangaceira kiss, and it wasn’t here.’’ Acid tainted his words with no space for fake niceties on his set. Jensen remained in the chair, not even daring to make the most subtle move. Eric knew where he was hitting, and Ackles deserved a punch in the jaw. “The sex scene wasn’t here either, but you two added a lot of erotic subtext. Trust me, I know.’’

His shoulders fell in exhaustion. ‘’Eric…’’

‘’You’re lucky we were going to make those two a couple anyway. I can just put the kiss here and save your ass. What if that wasn’t the case, huh?’’ the director continued, more interested in spilling out his anger than listening to dumb excuses. ‘’What about Danneel, Jensen? You have a wife and kids, for God’s sake!’’

The breaking point. Jensen rose to his feet with sudden frustration, a growl leaving his lips as he pushed the chair to the side with uncharacteristic brutality. How could Eric bring up his family like this? And how could Jensen’s heart not bring them up when he kissed you before? It was all a fucking mess, and he had no choice but to choke down whatever came out of it, even if it was poison and spite.

‘’Fuck, Eric! Do you think I don’t know that? Do you think it doesn’t pull me apart every time I go home and know I’m lying to the people who love me?’’ The vein on his neck popped as he spoke, emotion gushing thicker through his arteries than blood. Woe remerged under his skin as he swallowed dryly, resting his hands on the table and looking down. That wasn’t him. He had done a lot of things that weren't him lately. ‘’I have enough guilt here, pal.’’

Eric just glared down at the man’s outburst, furrowing before asking, ‘’What’s going on, Jay? You don’t just get up and cheat on your wife. That ain’t you.’’

He shook his head. ‘’I don’t know. Y/N’s just…’’

‘’At least 20 years younger than you,” he stated. ‘’Just starting her career and might be getting the homewrecker title if someone finds out.’’

‘’I won’t let that happen.’’

‘’How? You are gonna be more careful or will you cut it out and go back to your wife and three kids?’’ When Ackles didn’t respond, Eric sighed. ‘’Just stop this, Jensen. Let her go.’’

Jensen scoffed humorlessly. ‘’I can’t.’’

Kripke felt like talking to a teenager. He shook his head as he got up. ‘’Do you have any idea what you’re doing here? This could destroy your family, destroy Y/N’s chance to make a name when you already have your own. That’s selfish in all proportions, Jensen!’’

‘’I know, I know.’’

‘’She deserves more than this and —’’

‘’I know.’’

‘’You are gonna mess up everyone’s lives —’’

‘’I know!’’ He slammed the table and winced, turning around with his hands on his head. If only he could stop his thoughts for a second and reorganize his feelings. ‘’Do you think it doesn’t rip my heart out that I can’t love her?’’

‘’Who?’’ The burning question was ready to set everything ablaze. ‘’You can’t love Y/N, or you can’t love your wife anymore, Jensen?’’

He couldn’t love you in public. He couldn’t love Danneel anywhere. Love just escaped through his reaches when you spoke his name like a prayer, and it was time to accept that.

‘’Both.’’

NO CHICK FLICK MOMENTS: SOLDIER BOY AND CANGACEIRA TALK ABOUT WHAT TO EXPECT FROM THEIR RELATIONSHIP

‘’It's amazing to portray with Jensen. I’ve watched Supernatural since I was like twelve, which probably isn't advisable.’’ You chortled, answering the reporter’s question. Your body could barely contain your excitement under your skin, although, why would you want that? You did it. You got the job you had dreamed and worked hard for. To a bonus, you were working with Jensen Ackles! If there was someone that had earned the right to scream to the sky until your face was the color of the red carpet your heels currently stood on, it was you. ‘‘I was even a Samgirl!’’

Jensen faked a gasp next to you, a light spectrum surrounding the interview. ‘’Really? Me too!’’

You pushed his shoulder playfully while he chuckled. ‘’Anyway, I'm very excited to be here and portray a strong latina superhero. The representation’s very important, and to be able not only to cherish it, but to be a part of it doing what I love and inspiring people like me is… mythical.’’

‘’Wow, woman!’’ Ackles pursed his lips, clapping a little before shifting his gaze from you to the reporter. ‘’She likes the big words. I swear, dude. She’ll just come and in like, a casual conversation, say something like gelid or whilst, and then she's gonna say dumbass. Both sound smart as heck.’’

You winked. ''It's the accent. Makes everything sound nice.”’

Jensen nodded but was quick to sprinkle in an incendiary remark to his compliments. ‘’Yeah, I have never seen someone confuse coach and couch before. Go sit on the coach got a lot of wrong ideas.’’

‘’Hey, you sat on the coach!’’

‘’Because I’m a good boy.’’

You rolled your eyes despite the grin on your lips. ‘’Sure, mister hours-to-get-ready.’’

‘’Hey, plenty of face masks are needed to keep this — ’’ He pointed at his face. ‘’at fourteen.’’

‘’All I hear is that you’re old.’’ Your eyebrows knitted together. Jensen licked his lips at the sight. On any other day, he’d pick you up, say I’m gonna show you who’s old, and enjoy where your teasing had gotten you two, but he couldn’t do it now. You’d get what was coming to you after the event, perhaps even under the table if your dress allowed it, or in the bathroom, if you kept going.

The mischievous smirk on your cherry-stained lips proved that you knew what was going through his mind. God, you were his sweet death. Nonetheless, Jensen sighed dramatically and looked at the camera. ‘’This is what I have to deal with every day.’’

The reporter went on, happily surprised about how comfortable you and Jensen seemed together. Usually, new coworkers were timider around each other during interviews, especially when they were a romantic pair. The journalist decided to try getting a little sneak peek of the couple aspects of Soldier Boy and Cangaceira.

‘’It's definitely interesting.’’

‘’But not in the best way.’’ The only thing more messed up than Jensen’s relationship with you was the correlation between your characters. At least you and he had the purity of love, even if it was twisted enough to turn heads and churn stomachs

‘’Certainly not in the best way.’’ You agreed, bringing him back into reality as always. ‘’It's really nice to explore a couple that doesn't consist of two white people getting to it like most main characters of the shows in our current climate. It’s not the kind of relationship you should be rooting for — not because it's interracial or anything, that's pretty much the biggest, if not only, positive aspect about those two — but because they aren’t healthy at all, just as all main relationships in our show. It's not a romance series, and we certainly don't treat our couples like it.’’

‘’Told you she is the beauty and the brains.’’ His cheeks dimpled with joy and pride as he looked at you. Jensen knew how excitedly nervous you were about that interview. He couldn’t wait to tell you how great you were like you were born to sell dreams and magazines. ‘’But yeah, it’s a messed up relationship like any other in The Boys. After all, it's not a respectful, wholesome show. It's about gritty superheroes that ain’t got heroism. Soldier Boy isn't a good guy, and it translates in his relationship too.’’

You nodded in agreement, brushing his arm to keep you sane. ‘’It’ll be an interesting dynamic to see on-screen to our show standards, but it's not an actual picture of how a relationship should be.’’

THE BOYS 100TH EPISODE PARTY!

The glimmer of his green comet eyes caught your undivided attention in the throngs of people. The crowd had gathered for his family, his arm around his wife's waist as you both shared a tender, stolen look. You savored her wine and yearned for the man in her arms.

It was just a small celebration due to COVID’s lasting effects on public events. People from the set and their significants together were in the Ackles house for a couple of drinks, small talk, and a cake with The Boy’s comics printed on it.

‘’Aunt Y/N!’’ JJ tugged your dress, her mix of Danneel and Jensen’s features almost haunting your soul. Almost. You would never despise a kid for that — you didn’t even have the right to. If anything, JJ was the one that would graduate to hating you someday. You didn't have enough youthful stupidity not to know the risks of being in love with a married man. ‘’Auntie!’’

You leaned in the most that you could with the red skirt, glancing at the child. ‘’Yes, honey?’’

‘’That’s my new Barbie! I bought a beach one! She looks like you!’’ the blonde kid said with a childish joy that ached in your heart. You could end up destroying her family’s stability if Jensen went any further, yet there she was; buying dolls that looked like you and so happily babbling about it.

You were a monster. Love opened you up and planted greedy seeds, and now you were a monster growing like a beautiful tree that could never be strong enough to hold a kid as they climbed up. The fact that you could sense Jensen’s eyes on your ass didn’t help one bit.

‘’She does! That’s so cute, JJ.’’

‘’You can be her. I have one who looks like mommy, I’ll be her, ‘kay?’’

Your nausea was replaced by a pageant smile and a nod, and so you spent the night sharing longing stares with the dad and playing dolls with the daughter. It was a role that was never yours.

ILLICIT AFFAIR? JENSEN ACKLES SEEN ON THE BEACH WITH Y/N Y/L/N

‘’I can’t believe you did this to me, to our family,‘’ Danneel screamed exasperatedly as she threw her clothes in a bag and heart on the wall. Jensen just stood there, accepting the deserved fury. ‘’Ten years of my life, Jensen, and you just threw it away for a mistress! I gave up on my job to be a stay at home mom because you didn’t want a babysitter. I supported you in every moment. I loved you!’’

‘’I’m sorry…’’

‘’You don’t get to be sorry,” she howled, glaring at him with the hatred of an overthrown nation. She felt like he got to the podium and forgot to say her name. ‘’You let that woman get in my house, drink my wine, talk to my children…’’

Reflexively, he said, ‘’Our.’’

‘’Shut the fuck up! There’s no ours anymore, no us!’’ Her words had garnered a learned violence, much louder than the sound of the zipper closing her duffel bag. She threw the CC exclusive on the floor, holding onto the handle for dear life. He didn’t deserve to see her breaking, only her anger. ‘’You destroyed our family, you destroyed me!’’

He pleaded, unable to discern if it was for her or the guilt: ‘’Dee.’’

‘’I hope you’re happy. I hope you go to her, get her to sleep on our bed, and be happy for a month.’’ She gulped, pursing her lips. Her glossy eyes coupled with the pink hue of her lipstick brought back a treacherous memory of their wedding day. ‘’And then, I hope she cheats, like you did to me.’’

The next headline didn’t call it love.

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penfullofwordsaheadfullofstories · 4 years

Text

So We Refuse To Take it Tragically

A/N: I’ve just accepted my fate is to be obsessed with this man, so here’s yet another Obi-Wan fic. There will be a second part to this, and I’m thinking a mini series of in-between moments. I won’t give spoilers, but this is NOT my normal type of fic, but he’s an exception to every rule in my book, apparently. Thank you to @caffeine-in-an-iv for being my beta on this, I don’t know where this would be without you!

Thank you also to @beskars for her post here that birthed this. Always blessing us with fuel for the thirst.

And to the one I know IRL that found my tumblr, one I will refer to as Top Voice, this is your final warning to gtfo before feasting your eyes on unprecedented filth and sap.

Pairing: Obi-Wan Kenobi x Force sensitive! Fem Reader (no Y/N)

Warnings: SMUT!!! Cumeating, hair pulling, Comfort Sex, ANGST!! (It has a happy ending later, I promise, but it starts after ROTS, so it’s par for the course) If you’re gonna write not-particularly-pertinent-to-plot-porn, might as well make it unnecessarily detailed, right? As usual, too many feelings for porn, More warnings will be in the tags to prevent spoilers

Title from one of my favorite quotes:

“Ours is essentially a tragic age, so we refuse to take it tragically. The cataclysm has happened, we are among the ruins, we start to build up new little habitats, to have new little hopes. It is rather hard work: there is now no smooth road into the future: but we go round, or scramble over the obstacles. We’ve got to live, no matter how many skies have fallen.”

-D.H. Lawrence

Tatooine is no place for a baby.

There are no soft surfaces, nor comforts, nor surplus of anything. It’s desolate and deprived and oppressive, but you watch as Obi-Wan shields the child from its harsh, sand-pelting winds with his whole body, despite the fact the child fits in the space between his wrist and elbow. It’s overzealous, but you don’t say anything of it.

The past two days have ripped away nearly everything he held dear, insisting on devastating every tender place. Nothing sacred has been left untouched.

He broke the code long before he met you, and you know part of why his love for you came so easily, why he had no qualms with breaking his vows, was because he’d long since loved the man that became his family in every way that matters.

Love and Light so tightly knit together the fabric of his being one could not be separated from the other.

And you could take on the entire Force with your two fists for how it had rewarded him for it with Hate and Darkness coming from someone so close it shattered something foundational in Obi-Wan.

Yet even now, there isn’t Darkness surrounding his signature. There’s brokenness and his ever-present equilibrium has been replaced by jagged shards. But despite it all, those rugged pieces still reflect light erratically in their shine.

It’s a loss and betrayal that spans many different planes: on one level, there’s nowhere you look in the galaxy beyond just the two of you that isn’t marked by the Empire’s rise in power, marking the end of the Republic he fought for and the fall of the Jedi, his community, comrades, and only home he’d ever known. And on another level, you’ve seen the weight of war and worse in Obi-Wan’s eyes, but nothing, nothing like this.

The pain is panoramic, but it’s also profoundly personal.

Even still, his attention isn’t on himself, but on the fussy bundle in his arms.

You wonder: is it the galaxy that doesn’t allow this man time to heal? Or is it his own choice to throw himself into the need of others so he has a tangible reason to avoid his own torments?

When he places the baby into the arms of the young couple, you know the times ahead will give the answer to that.

Because there aren't the cries of the past few nights to wake either of you, there’s silence.

You long to fill it, to try to bridge this insurmountable void with something, anything you could say. But you know it’s bigger than you. So, so much bigger than you.

Monumental obstacles and tremendous loss find themselves standing in the threshold of an abandoned hut smaller than your flat was on Coruscant.

“Well… it’s not much to look at, certainly. But the moisture vaporator seems to be in repairable condition, and we’re just far enough from town to avoid any curious neighbors. What do you think?” He turns to you, and his eyes, dark circles under and all, turn sharp in their assessment of your response.

“I told you. I’m going wherever you are so long as you’ll let me.” Your voice is gentle but adamant as you remind him.

He walks up from the living room to the threshold of the kitchen where you are, wrapping his arms loosely around your waist. “Be that as it may, I’m asking your input on where we’re going, or living, as your happiness means a great deal to me.”

There’s still no smile, but it’s the brightest his energy has felt since the last time you saw him before he came to your door in Coruscant days ago, whispering a rushed, heartfelt farewell, which you quickly countered with an emphatic, unshakable, “I’m coming with you.”

You look up at him, gliding your hand across his cheek into the hair at the nape of his neck. There’s Darkness at the door of his soul that he’s fighting off every moment, and he has the audacity to speak of your happiness.

You don’t dare bring up his. It’s irony, at best.

So you smile, timid, knowing the gesture in itself might be blasphemous to the tone, but genuine all the same. “We can make a life here. I know we can.”

He scans your eyes, looking to find the authenticity in your statement. “Are you certain?”

He’s not asking about the hut anymore. Or, at least, not just the hut.

“Obi-Wan, I never had any delusion that any life I had with you would be easy. I thought I’d only ever be getting you in secret, sparse moments. Although I’d never, ever wish for it to be under the circumstances that it is, having you like this is better than I ever hoped.”

There’s silence as he processes your words, then a wry twist of his features. “How I wish that your expectations needn’t be so low.”

“No, no, that’s not what I meant.” You incline your head, trying to find the words to convey what you mean.

“Nothing any person or any planet anywhere has to offer me holds a candle to what I’ve found in you, nor will it ever. I’d never trade unshakable wholeness for the transience of materialistic happiness.”

You know this has to resound with him. Is it not within the core set of values he was taught to forsake comfort in any avenue for something far greater?

His eyes flick between yours, gauging, and you can feel him reaching out to feel at your signature to solidify the truth.

If you knew him any less, you might be insulted at his questioning of your trustworthiness. But it’s not you he doesn’t trust. It’s something good willingly giving itself to him that causes his wariness.

The Force can have your middle finger along with your fists.

Then he’s relaxing into you, letting out an exhale that seems heavy with more than just air, and burying his nose in your hair for his next inhale.

****

By the end of the day, you’ve gathered enough supplies for basic necessities and to start on the repairs of the hut. You both snarf down a ration bar before shortly thereafter clearing the blown-in sand off what must have been the bed of the home. It’s a half circle indenture in the wall, and it has a dip obviously made for a mattress or cushion of some sort, but as all that’s available are the blankets bought in town today, you set to fluffing them to some semblance of comfort.

Fatigue pulls you into it far sooner than the suns setting. Last night was your first night without Luke, spent in a room you rented in town. Today was spent traveling to and from the hut, discussing details on what needs to be done, and you? You are absolutely exhausted. You can only imagine what he must feel like.

Obi-Wan secures the lock on the door before sitting on the side of the bed, looking off into nothing for a long, long moment.

You push up to your side, placing a hand on his back. “Obi…”

His shoulder nudges toward your hand, but he cuts you off. “It’s going to get quite cold when the suns set, and since the stove isn’t properly ventilating yet, we’re going to have to work with body heat.”

“I’ll try to mask my reluctance,” you retort.

He turns his face to you then, and just a smidge of humor sweeps across his eyes before he sheds his cloak, followed by everything else until only his pants remain. You’ve long since stripped down to your own sleeping comfort level, so before he can fold his cloak along with the rest of his discarded clothing, you take it and cover yourself with it.

He shakes his head a little at you once he’s done, settling down next to you, throwing the covers over both of you.

“Tell me what you need.” You’re face to face with him, but his expression is unreadable.

“I… I don’t know.” He considers you as if you held the answer to the question you just asked him.

“What about want, then? What do you want, Obi-Wan?” You wish he didn’t have his shields perpetually raised these days. It’d be so much easier to just read his energy.

His hand reaches up so he can stroke your cheek with his thumb. “You’re tired, darling. Rest.”

Ah, there it is. If the answer to the question of desire is him counter offering his own response with the fact you’re tired…

“So are you. But you still want.” You press your body fully against his, dropping your voice down to a whisper. “And so do I.”

You won’t push anymore than that, letting him take or leave the invitation. For you, it’s not even a question. It’s been four months since you last saw him. Since you’d last felt his touch.

You’d spent the last few nights in each other’s arms, but between Luke's shrill cries and the deafening devastation of the events of the days prior, it’d been just that: sleep. Or, what tousled, disturbed counterfeit the circumstance offered you both.

For him, though, there’s an abysmal weariness that digs far beyond lack of sleep, and you don’t dare infringe upon him in any way.

But there’s still a longing present, and even without his Force signature to guide you into his feelings, he can’t hide his eyes.

You watch the moment he makes a decision solidify across his countenance right before he presses his lips against yours. You sigh into it, letting the draw of his skin on yours pull you into orbit.

Because that’s exactly what happens. It’s a kiss for a kiss’ sake, for flavor and fervency and the fullness of each other, but it quickly gains its own momentum when his tongue parts your lips truly.

It’s an acute absence. Not having his energy surrounding you with his shields so far up. But it also gives sharp attention to the press of skin against skin, makes it an anchor and an outlet for all that is still too tender to even acknowledge.

You find grip in his hair, purposefully running your hands the opposite of the way he combs it as he takes your face in both hands and pulls you into him all the more.

When you both need to breathe, he only moves so far away that his lips still brush against yours on every exhale. “I..” he starts, then stops.

The hand still in his hair rakes through it gently, scratching your fingertips against his scalp as you wait for him to complete his thought.

“Let me taste you,” he says at last. You know it's a question from the way he stills, waiting for permission, but it’s phrased as nothing like it.

You raise an eyebrow. “Is that a rhetorical quest…”

“Oh, hush.” He’s already nudging you over onto your back, situating his body over yours, claiming your lips again. You allow yourself to sink into it, cherishing his weight over you, his hand roaming your ribcage, before pulling back to speak.

“I’m sorry, are you now getting on to me for my sass? Because… oh!”

He finds a nipple through the thin fabric of your shirt, pinching softly with a small tug.

“By all means, continue. I was most intrigued.” His smirk is back, but it fixes you with a tinge of worry when it again proves to be a smile only skin deep.

You place two fingers just shy of his forehead, but he catches your wrist in an almost painful clasp. The alarm casted by his expression quickly is washed away by a carefully constructed impassiveness, and your heart sinks.

He has to see it, because he bows his head in apology. “Not tonight.”

And before you have any room to respond, he’s shifting himself down as he lifts your shirt up, placing a single taunting, wet kiss on each nipple before moving even further down, nipping at the skin right below your belly button.

He’s distracting you from what he’s not allowing you access to, and you know it, and you let him anyway. That’s what this is, isn’t it? Distraction from the barrage of the mind. If that’s what he needs, that’s what you’ll give.

As he toys with the hem of your underthings, and you lift your hips to assist their removal, you realize it’s exactly what you need too.

Except he apparently isn’t planning to remove your underwear at all. With a casual flick of his hand, your legs are parted and held like that with a no-nonsense sprout of Force energy. Then he’s simply pulling the cloth to the side and brings his mouth torturously closer, but stops just before contact.

You push up to your elbows to tell him you can’t take much of those teasing breaths he’s taking, blowing hot air against sensitive nerve endings. But when you hear his breath stutter as he just looks, unhurried in admiration, you decide against it, even as you flush at the undivided attention. Sprawling his palms out over your inner thighs, he dips down to press his mouth between his fingers, sucking not-so-gently into the soft skin, sending the flesh into tremors before he’s even really done anything to you.

He says your name as he opens you up with his fingers, parting your folds so everything is bared to his view. You start to squirm, the exposure starting to feel a little too heady, and you’re starting to appeal with the beginning of his name when he leans forward, straight away connecting his lips to your clit. You try to thrust up into it as some shameful noise leaves you, but there’s only so much movement you have with your legs still pinned.

He loves to tease, so you don’t expect him to retract the energy that constricted your legs at the first resistance. Instead, he slides his hands under your ass, pulling you on to his tongue and lets you push your hips into him unchecked.

He hums at your enthusiasm, the reverberation sending your hands into his hair again, which gifts you with even more noises from him.

It doesn’t take long at all, and you’re coming undone on his tongue, biting into your forearm to dampen your cry.

He doesn’t stop until you push at his shoulder, signaling your tender surrender. He obeys, looking up at you from between your thighs, absolutely besotted, eyes shining a shade brighter than before.

Then. Obi-Wan Kenobi keeps his eyes on yours before dipping his head and tilting his jaw, running his beard right where you’re still open and vulnerable, abrasion grating in a way you know you’ll be feeling all day tomorrow.

He licks his lips as he moves back up to kiss you again, letting you taste yourself on him.

He goes easily when you gesture for him to lie on his back so you can straddle him, carefully avoiding any contact where he’s throbbing for you. His hands fall right to your waist, stroking gently as he waits for you to initiate.

You focus your study on the section of his hair that’s fallen in his face, twirling a finger in it, happy to have anywhere to look but his eyes.

He’d normally at least be in your mind by now, and even though you understand it, well, the drought of it is as appropriate for the planet as anything.

You remember too late to raise your own shields against any accidentally too-loud thoughts, as Obi-Wan cups his hand on your chin, forcing your gaze to his, saying your name quietly in calling.

“You have to know, it isn’t anything to do with…”

You interrupt him. “No. No. I won’t have you addressing my insecurities of all things in light of…”

“Please listen, love. I need you to know, it hasn’t anything to do with the love I have for you. That hasn’t changed and never will. I think I need… “ He pauses, solemn in thought. “Time,” he finishes finally.

You knew this already in the pit of your stomach, but hearing him say it, hearing him affirm that it isn’t you insufficiency… you hate that you needed it as much as you did.

And if he needs time? That’s what you’ll give. But he also has a want, evidenced by the brush of him against you when you scoot yourself down his torso.

You take the hem of his pants with you when you continue down, ridding him of them and his shorts. But when you wrap your hand around him and begin to lower your mouth, he grips your chin again, shaking his head.

“I can’t… please, just.” It’s always an anomaly when he’s at a loss for words, usually ever-so articulate.

A gasp chokes out of you when you feel the phantom of his mind. Not in full, no. With barriers, and it’s projected out, not at all the same sensation to being within it.

It’s desperation. For how long it’s been, for how drained he feels, how he’s not sure how long this will last, and how much he yearns to be inside you.

There’s not even a second of debate in your mind as you take your position on his lap again, lifting your hips, intention apparent. He takes his cock in hand, holding steady so you can start to seat yourself onto the thick push of him.

The hitch in his breath is your only warning before he seizes the undersides of your thighs, halting you from taking him any further.

His eyes are tightly shut, and you know from watching him before that his facial expression is an attempt at borderline meditation, except it’s several long seconds before he achieves anything resembling calm.

It’s as good a time as any to push his hands off you and squirm around to take him a little deeper. You plan on rubbing your victory in, but your smirk is wiped away with a whine at the elation. Instead of stopping you again, he almost imperceptibly thrusts up, and it’s your turn to falter, slamming your hands into his chest, nails digging in, working against your weight trying to pull you down onto him.

It goes on like that, until you’re both bordering on hysteria before you’ve even fully taken him. You can’t figure out if it’s a worse torment to keep delaying or continuing.

Obi-Wan seems to have come to his own conclusion to that, as he finally opens his eyes, locking them with yours as he places his palms flat on the tops of your thighs and pushes down until your skin is flush with his.

You pull a hand up, biting on your fist, trying to stifle the exclamation in your throat.

He pulls it away, voice ragged as he speaks. “I want to hear you, little one. We needn’t hide anymore.”

It’s a dimensional statement. For one, no one is around for miles, a stark contrast to your quarters on Coruscant where you at least attempted to be considerate of your too-near neighbors when it came to noise. For another, it’s the irony of being in hiding from the Empire, but being allowed to be open in your relationship with each other finally.

And the deepest irony is that you both have your barriers up so firmly right now all you can concentrate on is bared skin.

Oh, but what a beautiful spanse of bared skin he is. Freckled and almost luminously pale, bending and curving with the strength of the form underneath.

He sits up slowly, generating a breathless plea from both of you at the new angle. A search of your eyes asks you a question, and you’re nodding, kissing him with the full brunt of your craving.

You slide up and then down again just as he drives up, and you’ve found your rhythm, just like that.

His hands push you onto him every time you pull up, and his tongue laves your breasts, sucking and biting along your collarbone, as you rake your nails down his chest, over the backs of his shoulders, his scalp, anything you can touch.

It’s enough to send him into a chorus of groans, shoving himself hard up into you.

He doesn’t even speak it aloud, just projects the apologetic warning that he’s on the edge.

When his thumb finds your clit, everything in you goes tense despite the relief. You clench around him, hard, and he instantly moves his hands to your shoulder blades pulling you flush against him as he lets out an unrestrained sound against your breasts.

You push his thumb away from where it’s stilled against you, replacing it with your own. His fingers twitch in their bruising grip, and you can feel him throbbing inside you.

You stay like that for a moment, just letting him ride out his bliss, whispering sweet affirmations into his hair.

When he looks up at you again, his eyes are glassed over. You wonder if it’s ecstasy that is the cause, or something from the bedrock boiling to the surface.

He doesn’t give you a chance to elaborate, flipping you over on to your back. The moment he withdraws, you can feel the mess dripping down your inner thighs.

It takes everything in you to not come at the sight alone as Obi-Wan dips further down your body, parting you and lapping his tongue right where you’re weeping evidence of desire.

You know you have to be making a mess of his face and beard, but he certainly doesn’t seem to mind, indulging on his own spill infused with yours.

When he adds two fingers in you and curls them strategically, searing heat shoots through your lower stomach as you arch against his mouth, his name a high whisper with absolutely no suppression, echoing across the empty stone walls of the home.

He leaves a final tender kiss against you before lying down next to you, pulling you into his arms, and you pull him into yours right back when your limbs remember how to function.

His head drops against yours, and his eyes flutter shut, taking a deep inhale, like he’s trying to fill his lungs with more than just oxygen.

Nothing is fine, and the world is crumbling. But right now, as the suns finally leave the house in dark, as you clasp each other in tight embrace, as sleep pulls you under, you can pretend it’s fine. If only for a moment.

*******

There’s a flash of feeling that startles you awake and into the disorientation that comes from waking in a new place. The sensation worsens when you feel the reverberations of the equivalent of a slammed door in the Force.

You sit up quickly and look over to Obi-Wan, who sits on the side of the bed, head in his hands, fingers brutal in their grip.

You move toward him, and he turns around at the sound. “Go back to sleep, darling. it’s nothing.”

When you fix him with a gaze that essentially translates “bantha fodder,” he just lies back down, pulling your back into his chest, and you doubt the fact you can’t see his face like this is a mistake.

The rhythm of his breathing betrays the fact he is nowhere near sleep, but you find yourself fading off soon again anyway.

****

When you wake in the morning, you’re alone in the bed, which is no surprise. He’s not one to lounge, and if the height of the suns peaking through the window has anything to say, he’s already been up for a while.

His cloak is still tangled in the blankets, though, and you wrap yourself in it, padding outside after doing something about your morning breath.

The hut is situated on a cliff, overlooking a barren valley. The suns glare with their unrelenting eyes of heat even so early in the day, and you stare back as best you can without squinting, daring them to do their worst. They know nothing of the misery that’s already visited this home. They have no hope of competing.

You find Obi-Wan cross-legged near the edge of the cliff. Cross-legged and levitating.

Of course, you know he can do things like this. It’s just such a different thing to see him doing it . You’ve never had a proper morning with him like this, seeing his routine. He was always up before the sun, you with him, gathering moments and soaking them in before he had to leave again.

He looks almost peaceful now, not at rest, but peaceful.

How?

How does he still have so much trust in the Force?

A more lighthearted thought emerges through the grim train, as you notice he’s opted to not put his tunic back on yet.

It doesn’t matter out here, you suppose, there isn’t any other living being for miles around. For that matter, you wonder why he even left the pants.

His voice damn near startles you, not even opening his eyes to address you.

“Although that may be the case, there are some locations more bearable to get sunburn than others.”

You blush at being caught, and gently ensure your thoughts aren’t accidentally projected again, but he doesn’t give you much time to dwell on it.

“Join me?”

As he opens his eyes and descends the couple inches down back onto the ground, you feel your heart do the same. He’s taught you little things, here and there, and you’ve enjoyed it, learning to tap into that constant humming you never had the tools to channel before.

But now?

What interest do you have with The Force that failed the man who served it without fail? You could burn it down for the atrocities it’s committed even in negligence against the man you love.

But there’s been enough burning.

Obi-Wan won’t speak of what transpired on Mustafar, but you’ve caught glimpses. Last night wasn’t the first night you’ve had him back, and it wasn’t the first you’d woken to a severe troubling in his aura.

You’re still not sure if Luke is a fussy baby or simply a very responsive one, as it seemed Obi-Wan was already awake before Luke started crying.

It was only mere seconds before his shields came slamming down, firmly in place, every time.

You can’t tell if he’s trying to shelter you from his feelings or blockade them away from himself.

Maybe both.

But those seconds? They’re long enough. For just a flash of a charred, severed body. Of hateful, pleading, golden eyes.

There’s been enough burning.

“I can’t ever be a Jedi, Obi.”

“That’s not what I’m asking of you.”

He knows your criticisms as well as your compliments over the Jedi. You’ve both discussed it at great length many times, always over a firm understanding and respect, but you’ve never really had long enough to have a conclusion. But you’re not going to push now, not with the fall of it all still so close behind him.

“I should think our relationship itself is testimony that I don’t inherently agree or adhere to all Jedi teachings.”

You drop your eyes, trying to ignore the sweat starting to trickle down your skin from the relentless heat. “I thought maybe you were with me in spite of your better judgement.”

His brow furrows. “At first, that’s what I may have thought too, but it made itself clear that although what transpired between us was forbidden by the Code…” he trails off for a moment, almost hesitant. “...the way Light was and is exemplified any time I have you in my arms presented a solidified case that not always is the Jedi way synonymous with the will of the Force.”

He says it wholeheartedly, but you can tell it pains him. It’s easy to never speak ill of the dead, either of individuals or groups. To glorify and wipe away any transgressions to ensure their memory sparkles as you grieve it.

The harder thing is to grieve everything, both the good you lost and the bad you experienced from the same source.

And there’s another level there. Something that has him patting the spot beside him and giving a heartbreakingly forced smile.

Even through it all, wariness of aspects of his own religion included, he seeks unity with the Force without reservation or resentment.

You don’t fight him anymore.

The war is over, but the battle has just begun, and so help you Maker, you’re going to fight for him to have the chance to heal.

So you sit, mimicking his position.

When he smiles again, it’s much smaller but not at all fake.

“First, clear your mind.”

*****

The days are afflicted with an underlying gloom, full of work that busies the hands but leaves the mind to wander, which wasn’t at all a luxurious thing.

But the nights are filled with unclaimed time, time in an abundance you never had with each other before.

Sometimes it’s shot with silence from the weight of the day, reveling in the presence of another as you work together on the supper dishes.

Or sometimes there’s almost an excitement, despite the labor ahead, of the plans for the place that’s now your home.

“Wouldn’t we have to have some sort of larger equipment to hoist that over the cliff edge?” You wonder aloud to Obi-Wan, speaking of the replacement unit for finally getting some very basic temperature control for the hut. “The way around back is too rough and would scratch it up, and I, for one, wouldn’t want to try pushing it up manu…”

You stop at his smirk he’s trying to hide with tilting his tea cup higher over his lips.

“...Or there’s a Jedi solution to this problem that requires neither, and you’re just letting me ramble on anyway.” You punctuate the end of your statement by tossing a pillow his direction, which just stops. Midair.

There’s so much legend surrounding Jedi, you haven’t really been sure what’s factual and what’s fairytale.

You certainly knew of some of his abilities, but he didn’t tend to elaborate on details of his missions before, and you never argued, knowing it was a liability for you to have that kind of information if anyone ever found out what you meant to Obi-Wan.

He chuckles, not even trying to look a little guilty.

Once you remember to shut your mouth, you get back to planning. “And that same principle just applies to objects of any size?”

He nods. “Same principle, just more concentration required.”

You tuck your feet under you on your chair as you think on that for a second. You’ll have to ask him to teach you that one next. Mediation alone could get rather dull.

“So, for instance, if a great amount of concentration is being spent Force-lifting an object up the cliff, it would leave a Jedi vulnerable to, say… projectiles thrown?” You throw another pillow at him, which just as easily halts next to the other, gravity defiant.

He could have lowered the first one by now. You raise a brow at the knowledge he’s putting on a show for you.

“You’ll have to do better than that, I’m afraid.”

More often than not, the time of the evenings are spent loving and lounging in sheets, savoring the difference of unhurried lovemaking, with no heart-wrenching farewell on the horizon.

But every time you gently ask to reach his mind, he pushes the request and your hand away.

*******

Obi-Wan’s visits to see Luke are met with a level of hostility. The man, Owen, seems wary of him, doing everything he can to cut the visit short as you and the woman, Beru, if you remember correctly, look silently to each other for some relief in the tension.

They already likely know his actual name, but you’re careful to only address Obi as “Ben” here, along with everywhere else that isn’t your hut. It’s precautionary, but if it’s for the sake of protecting Luke and Obi-Wan himself, you’ll do it without any further questions.

But Luke seems to be doing well, and that is ultimately what matters most. It’s hard to believe how quickly he’s grown in the mere weeks that you’ve been here.

The boy might be by far Obi-Wan’s greatest purpose being on this planet, but it’s not his only.

Master Yoda had given him Jedi texts, yes, but also another task for his time here.

You’re thankful to talk about either, as it seems to be one of the few things he’ll open up to you about as it pertains to himself.

But when he goes to meditate alone, calling for his mentor, his father in every right of the term, he comes back more empty than he left.

When you look at him with a too-knowing look, too infiltrating for his comfort, he easily slides into a quip.

“My old master, it seems, won’t appear unless on his own terms. I’m not sure what else I expected, honestly.”

******

You also learn that the man does not cook. Not that you consider yourself an expert, but at the very minimum, you know how to use spices, which on Tatooine come as hot as their weather.

“Is it a Jedi thing to have tasteless food, or is that just you?” You tease as he dices some sort of root at your direction while you sift through the cabinet.

His eyes are full of mischief when he’s quiet for a moment before speaking up. “I would argue there’s concrete evidence that I’m quite happy to indulge in the pleasures of taste.”

You can’t help your blush as his very pointed look.

Dinner is long forgotten after that, but the night is delectable all the same.

*****

Something has shifted in your own Force signature. Something you can’t put your finger on.

It doesn’t seem harmful or threatening in essence, but it makes you wary in a way that makes your skin itch with more than the dryness.

You try not to think much of it. After all, there’s plenty to do between tending to the vaporator, hunting, fending off the Sand People, and your learning to wield the Force.

After rumors of Tusken raiders being nearby, you ask Obi-Wan to teach you combat. This would be starting long before he normally would teach someone, he explained, but he does it anyway. It’s not exactly using the Force at first, having to start with how to even move your body in the event of attack, slowly enhancing those skills with the Force as you become more confident in them.

You look forward to it more than any other task. It gives you a strength you haven’t had before, and it’s a whole different level of connection to the Force when you trust it physically, not just in your mind.

It’s also another level of trust with Obi-Wan, knowing he’d never hurt you even as he enters the role of a potential threat, guiding you through how to handle it.

So you don’t know why today your stomach won’t agree to the way you want your body to move. You push through it anyway, despite Obi-Wan’s concerned questioning.

You lose your lunch into the rocks, and you really wish he wouldn’t pick you up to take you back into the hut, because the shift of what’s up and what’s down doesn’t help at all.

And you wish he wouldn’t dote over you the rest of the day, as if you didn’t feel useless enough already, as if the illness didn’t leave as quickly as it came.

You make a mental note to ensure you don’t let yourself become dehydrated again to that point.

*****

The trips into town are kept to a minimum, trying to keep curiosity away from the new couple. Also, there wasn’t much to do except barter and spend credits, something you both tried not to do a great deal of.

Obi-Wan was sent off with enough Republic credits to get you started here, but it was hit or miss if the vendors took them that day, and he also didn’t want to spend too much at once.

Nothing was more suspicious than surplus here.

The woman you brought the limited produce available from seemed… different this trip.

Obi-Wan was a couple of stalls down from you, negotiating with a man who had obviously jacked up the price on the items needed. Poor man didn’t know what he was in for.

You turned your attention back on to the woman in front of you, and tried to decipher what was different this time and why it felt so familiar.

As you pointed to a basket of hubba gourds, inquiring of the price, she gave you one that you knew for a fact was higher than last time.

You counter offered the same price as last time you were here, and she firmly stated her price again. Ready to stand your ground, you go to state your price again, she puts her hand to her belly, bringing her skirt in around, revealing a small bump.

“Can’t afford your low-ball offers with this one on the way, understand?”

The sky suddenly falls around you in thunderous clamor as the physical realm around you moves on, unaffected and unreachable. Almost mechanically, you place the credits she asked for on the table, not even capable of addressing the obvious manipulation.

Understanding drenches you in its brutal weight as you realize the source why she felt so different this time.

Your hands shake in their clasp on the basket as you pull yourself into a side alley, heaving your breakfast up.

Because you recognize the same difference in her is the exact same one that has changed your Force signature.

It’s because there’s a flickering light of another being’s Force signature within you.

Tagged as requested: @maybege

#obi-wan #obi wan kenobi #Obi-Wan Kenobi #obi-wan X reader #obi-wan kenobi x reader #obi wan x reader #obi wan kenobi x reader #obi-wan x you #obi-wan kenobi x you #obi wan x you #obi wan kenobi x you #Obi-Wan fanfic #tw: violence #tw: pregnancy #tw: trauma #obi-wan x reader #obi wan x oc

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allyreactions · 4 years

Text

Dating NCT | Mark

- masterlist requests : OPEN

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║ pairings ; mark lee x fem! reader

║ genre ; fluffy fluff, smut, angst

║ word count ; 2.4k

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~ A/N : I’ve been so soft for Mark, I just had to let it out. also I think I went a little bit overboard ... I wrote so much. so please pretty please send me your feedback on it because I literally poured my heart into this post. thanks 🥺

~ Admin Ally

* gif credits to the owner *

♡ how you meet :

you first met Mark at the local bookstore

you were browsing through the fiction section, searching for your next read

as you pursued the shelves, you slid your finger across the spine of the books

until landing on the mystery novel you had been searching for

you removed the book from the shelf and added it to the stack of books you were carrying in your other arm

feeling satisfied with your collection, you proceeded to walk over to the lounge area to review the books

you sat down in a large, green armchair and placed the stack of books next to you on the side table

you picked up the first book, the mystery novel you had been dying to get your hands on, and started reading through the authors note on the inside cover

as you were flipping through the pages, glancing at the chapters, someone tripped over your foot

“oh, my bad”

the boy shyly bowed and apologized

“it’s okay,” you replied nodding back

the boy continued on his way and walked over to the magazine section

there he joined two other boys, you assumed they were friends

you shrugged off the interaction and diverted your attention back to your book

about 10 minutes pass by and you’ve glanced over each book you’ve found

you decided to buy the mystery novel and a YA romance novel

you gathered your things before putting the other books back on the shelf

you were back in the fiction section, your eyes scanning the shelves to find the correct place to put away a sci-fi novel when you heard some muffled giggling behind you

you decided not to turn around and focused on finding the section of books that matched the one you were trying to put away

“Johnny, I’m not gonna talk to her” a boy said in a whispered tone

“you’ve been staring at her this whole time, go talk to her!” encouraged another boy, you assumed it was the boy names Johnny

you tried again to ignore the whispers behind you

that is until you felt a tap on your shoulder

you turned around and were faced with a black-haired blushing boy

you glanced at the two boys behind him who were pretending to be inconspicuous, but failing at it

one boy was tall with auburn hair and held a starbucks cup in his hand

the other was slightly shorter with long blonde hair, is that a mullet?

“I um, ..” the boy in front of you spoke

you returned your gaze back to the shy boy

“I uh, my name’s Mark”

you were still very much confused as to what was going on

you didn’t mean to, but the puzzled look on your face must have given the boy a bad feeling because he said

“I don’t mean to bother you, but I um .. I think you’re really cute”

his ears were bright red and he had trouble looking you in the eye

he was so nervous

it’s charming

“I promise I’m not a bad guy, but um, would you lie to go on um ... a date with me?”

♡ first date :

you guys had been talking for a few days leading up to your date

Mark wanted to make sure you didn’t think he was some sort of weirdo for asking you out in Barnes and Noble

and he wanted you to at least get to know him before going out

and the two of you discussed your schedules and were able to set up a date and time for the two of you to go out

and Mark, being the gentleman that he is, decided to take you to a restaurant for your first date

he wanted to keep things sort of traditional and classy and make you feel special

he’s a softie like that

he really wanted to impress you by dressing nice in a blazer and dress shoes

he wanted to prove that he’s more than just the nervous, giggly guy you found in a bookstore

ugh im so soft

anyway, Mark picks you up and you two head to the restaurant together

once you’re seated at your table, the waiter takes your orders for drinks and appetizers

once she leaves, there’s nothing but silent tension

Mark’s hand flies to the back of his neck, nervously fildeling with the hair behind his head.

“you look really nice” he said, his voice was low

you could sense the anxiousness by his tone

“thanks, you look really nice too” you said, returning the compliment

there was another long pause

“how are your books? I.. I mean the ones you bought last week” Mark asked, he was making an effort to start a conversation

the two of you had no problem talking over text, but the both of you are clearly nervous around each other

was it because both nervous and socially awkward? or was it the sexual tension?

who knows

eventually the awkwardness subsided sort of

Mark was still visibly nervous

he kept rubbing the back of his neck and would stutter every so often

it was cute that he was nervous

but it’s all part of his charm

I mean, that’s the reason you agreed to go out with him in the first place

alright, back to your dinner

you were able to have a decent conversation with him

the two of you discussed your family and friends, your hobbies and interests

nothing too wild

but the whole time, Mark listened to you intently

he would ask questions, furthering your conversation

he seemed genuinely interested in getting to know you and learning about your interests

it was refreshing and sweet

every so often, he would crack a joke

and they were always so cheesy and dorky

but it was cute, so you laughed along

after your meal, Mark had offered to walk you home before it got too late

he wanted to make sure you got home safely

when you arrived at your doorstep, the two of you exchanged goodbye’s

“I had a good time tonight” you said

“I’m glad, so did I” Mark smiled back shyly

you placed a soft peck on his cheek

his cheeks flushed pink and the tip of his ears turned bright red

“Good night beautiful” Mark said, taking ahold of your hand

he leaned in and gently kissed your forehead

♡ living together / couple stuff :

everyday with Mark is an adventure

and I mean that in the best way

Mark is always full of surprises

sometimes he’ll be sitting in the living room and just start strumming his guitar and sing soft ballads and his voice would echo through the house

or you’ll be fixing dinner for the two of you in the kitchen and you’ll hear his infectious laughter from the living room

you and Mark have tons of inside jokes

he’s always making cheesy jokes

like even if his jokes aren’t funny

you’ll still laugh along because he’s just that cute and clueless

sometimes he’ll come home and share stories about his day

like he’ll talk about the producers he met with and the songs he’s been working on with them

and he’ll get super excited too

“babe, I can’t wait for you to hear the finished product”

not that that he wants validation from you, but hearing you praise him for his work and his music really gives him an ego boost

who doesn’t want to hear the love of their life compliment them on their passions?

also, you’re a huge inspiration and muse to him

now not every song he write its written about you, but when it comes to love songs on nct albums or a superm album, you’re always at the forefront of his mind when contributing to love lyrics

he loves adding little nods to your relationship in his music

it’s his way of showing his love for you

but it’s not always in just lyrics, he can also be romantic in his actions

although he can be a little awkward sometimes

he’s just a sweet puppy okay? be gentle with him

Mark is a big cuddle bug

he’s kind of clingy when he returns home from tour and promotions

and he wants to spend as much time with you as possible when his schedule is clear

mornings with Mark are an experience

he absolutely loves to treat you to breakfast in bed

but Mark isn’t the best chef

so he’ll either try his best at making you eggs and toast

or he’ll stop by your favorite cafe and purchase a to-go order

Mark loves making you feel special in any little way he can

but let’s talk about the night time

after dinner, the two of you like to cuddle up and watch the newest kdrama episode on tvN or just watch a random bad movie on Netflix to make fun of

you’ll of course have a big bowl of popcorn and finish it within the first 10 minutes of the movie

and when the movie is over, you’ll walk to your shared bedroom

and cuddle up under the blankets and snuggle into Marks chest

because of course he’s the big spoon

and you’ll interlock fingers

sometimes when neither of you can sleep, Mark encourages you to talk about whatever is on your mind

because sometimes you have too much going on and you mind is just so full that you can’t sleep

Mark is super understanding and just offers his ear to you

he’ll comfort you if there’s anything serious going on

Mark is just super supportive and loves having deep conversations with you

he loves how these deep conversations bring the two of you closer together because it strengthens your trust in one another

♡ arguments :

Mark doesn’t seem like the confrontational type

and the two of you don’t fight often

like I had mentioned before up above, you and Mark tend to tell each other everything

there’s not much that you hide from each other

and you guys have such a strong bond that jealousy doesn’t really affect you both

but that doesn’t mean that life stresses can’t affect you

now we all know that we tend to take out our frustrations on the people we love

so I feel like most of the bumps in your relationship could be related to the stresses from work and everyday life

like sometimes you just have a bad day at work

you boss is in a mood and takes it out on you, so you bring home that frustration and eventually take it out on Mark

even though you don’t mean to

another example may be the stress about your public relationship with him as an idol

obviously if you received hate, it might have an effect on your actions towards your boyfriend

you become distant and closed off a bit

the comments say that you don’t deserve someone like Mark, and even though you know they’re wrong that doesn’t mean their words don’t hurt

and when Mark realizes how closed off you’ve been, he’ll try to talk with you about it

of course he won’t force you to talk about things until you’re ready

but Mark can be a little fragile, and the fact that you’ve been distant would hurt him

and when he hears that you’ve been doubting that you’re worthy of his love really hurts him

he’ll comfort you and rub the tears from your face

seeing you cry just breaks his heart

♡ sexy time :

okay, now I’ve said this before, but Mark is a soft dom, possibly a switch

listen, don’t cancel me

I feel like Mark puts on a show that he’s super kinky

and his lyrics from ‘whiplash” and ‘drippin’ are proof of that

but when it comes down to the wire, I think he’s actually kind of nervous at first

sex with Mark for the first time is a sweet experience

of course, y’all aren’t going to jump straight into choking on the first night

Mark is a gentleman

a good christian boy

Mark is a soft dom for your first time

he’s very gentle and he takes his time, making sure that you’re comfortable and satisfied every step of the way

he places kisses all over your body, making sure he pays attention to every inch of your body

Mark pays attention to every moan and whimper that falls from your precious lips

he’ll leave love bites and markings in all your sensitive spots

his thrusts are slow and deep, making it easier for you to feel every inch of him completely fill you

I can’t see Mark finishing inside you for the first time, but creampies are definitely something he’s into

*cough* drippin by nct dream and drop by superm *cough*

he really likes creampies

but once the two of you get comfortable with each other and settle into your relationship, that’s when the kinks come out

I would say that Mark is open to experimenting in bed

and even though the both of you are comfortable with each other, Mark is still slightly awkward when talking about sex with you

it’s just who he is

when it comes to trying out things that you’re interested in, that’s when I feel like Mark would take the backseat

he’d sub on those nights

it’s just easier for you to take control when doing things that you’re interested in

but when it comes to you wanting Mark to choke you or spank you, I feel like he would be a little hesitant at first

he just doesn’t want to hurt you

he’s not sure how strong his grip should be around your throat

he’s not sure how hard he should spank you

what level of pain did you want to receive?

but once he saw your response and heard your begging, he’ll start to get into it

he’ll thrust into you hard and fast, his grip around your throat will tighten

he watches as your eyes roll back in pure pleasure, until you finally climax and cry out his name in ecstasy

he loves watching you cum all over him

I can see him wanting to try out cockwarming, but he’s somewhat nervous when brining it up to you

cockwarming is something the two of you do when you’re cuddling after sex

of something that you do in the morning when it’s cold outside and you just want to cozy up and share each other’s warmth

it’s an intimate thing that Mark’s been interested in trying out, and sharing moments like that with you would be pretty meaningful for him

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lost-in-the-80s · 3 years

Text

Bloodletting part II - Prologue

Words: 1,820k

Summary: Guns n Roses are already known for being dangerous, but how dangerous would they be if they were vampires? Would it be a wiseful decision to fall for one of them?

A/N: Next week the x reader part will start! I’m making a playlist inspired by this (sorry, I just couldn’t hold myself sjdhs). I’ll be posting one part every Tuesday. Also, from now and on, tag list will be at the end of the fic :)

Some initial information: this series will take place in 2020, but without the pandemic. If you already read part 1 (which was posted last year) please ignore any pairs that the boys have had (Slash’s case), here they are all single.

Moodboards | Part I | Part III

Los Angeles, 2016.

“What the fuck died in here?” Izzy asked as he entered Axl’s victorian house in Los Angeles.

It was night outside and all the curtains were closed, putting the entire house in complete darkness. If Izzy wasn’t a vampire, he surely wouldn’t be able to see anything.

The smell of blood and something decomposing had caught his nostrils as soon as he opened the door, making him cover his nose with his hand.

“I did.” Axl’s hoarse voice came from upstairs, he wasn’t yelling, he knew his friend could hear even his breath from the floor below.

Izzy rolled his eyes, starting to climb the stairs. “Yeah, but it was almost a thousand years ago.”

Reaching the second floor, Axl was sitting on the floor, a bottle of Scotch Whisky in his hands as his shirtless figure looked at his friend.

“Shit, when was the last time you took shower?” Izzy wrinkled his nose in disgust.

The redhead shrugged. “Am fuckin tired, Iz.”

“Don’t tell me you’re in that I Hate Myself phase again.” The brunette started walking through the corridors, going in the direction of the decomposing smell that had gotten stronger.

“I fucking do! I hate what I am.”

“It’s useless to hate yourself, we already talked about it.” He stopped in front of a door, the smell was definitely coming from behind it.

“And what am I supposed to do, Isbell?”

Izzy opened the door, covering his nose one more time when he saw the dead body of a girl inside, she didn’t look older than 25 and was dead for at least a couple of hours now. A human would never be able to smell her though.

“Axl, if I know you well, and I like to think I do, this happens every time you’re alone.”

“I’m always alone, Isbell.”

“I told you to go to New York with me last year.” He closed the door, moving closer to the redhead.

“I’m not going to fucking New York.”

“And what are you going to do then? Kill yourself? You know that it’s impossible.”

“Believe me, I know.”

Izzy frowned, squatting down in front of him, a circular bruise on his chest indicated that he had shot himself there, not so long ago.

He shook his head. “When did you do it?”

“Last night.”

“How did it feel?”

“I passed out. Woke up a few minutes later and it fucking hurt, I had to take the fucking bullet out of it. Wasn’t nice.”

“At least it’s almost healed.”

“I’m fucking tired of not feeling anything. Not even this fucking whisky can make me drunk anymore.” He threw the bottle on the other side of the corridor, its glass hitting the wall and breaking in many pieces.

Izzy rubbed his forehead. “That’s it! Pack your stuff, you’re going to New York with me.”

“I’m not fucking daeing that.” He got up, entering his office and getting a cigarette in his wooden box.

“You’re becoming reckless. There’s a body in your house and at some point, someone will miss the girl. It’s not 1720 anymore, they have cameras everywhere now, it’s a matter of days until they find you.”

Axl looked at him, but didn’t say anything.

Izzy removed his blazer, placing it on a chair in front of the desk and removing his tie. “I’m gonna take care of the body, be ready when I’m back.”

---

The flight to New York was quiet, Axl was too proud to thank his friend for helping him and Izzy was in his own world, enjoying the silence in the first class while drinking some gin.

Arriving in the city around midday, they were quite a sight. Izzy in a suit with a long and expensive grey coat over it, matched with his black sunglasses and grey-black hat, while Axl wore a pair of black ripped jeans and a leather jacket, also wearing black sunglasses.

It was winter in New York, as they walked towards the uber who would drive them to Izzy’s new house in the city. A three-floor gothic construction from the XIX century, which he had sent some pictures to Axl via letters, since Axl refused to have a cell phone.

“What the fuck are you doing in New York after all?”

“Business, Axl.”

He knew that Izzy had business in many places, he always knew what to do with his money, no wonders why he was the richest vampire he knew. But the fact that Izzy changed Amsterdam for New York was still something he couldn’t justify.

“And why moving here?”

“There are some cool people around.”

“Since when dae ya care about who’s around?”

“I do feel lonely sometimes too, Axl.”

And then silence was spread in the car again.

After almost an hour, they stopped in front of a huge house, its walls were in exposed brick and the garden in front had some trees that had lost their leaves with the cold weather.

Exiting the car, Izzy stopped on the sidewalk, getting a cigarette from his pack and offering one to Axl, which he silently thanked. He lighted both cigarettes before speaking up:

“There will be some people inside, I want you to be cordial to them.”

Axl scoffed. “And since when ah umnae cordial?” He passed through Izzy, stopping in front of the front door while waiting for the brunette.

Izzy rolled his eyes, but opened the door. The house was in the same way as when he left, the smell of old books and wooden, mixed with a little alcoholic scent, along with a small hint of blood coming from the freezers in the basement.

“Hello, Izzy.” A blonde guy, smaller than them, approached the two of them, he was coming from the kitchen and there was a huge smile on his face. “You must be Axl.”

Axl looked him up and down, scanning his figure. He wore blue jeans and a red bomber jacket.

He can’t be older than 20, Axl thought to himself.

“Ya, I am.” He passed through the blonde, looking at every piece of the house. “Where’s my room, Izzy?”

“Hello, Steven.” Izzy chose to ignore the redhead, moving towards the fireplace room.

“How was your trip?”

“It was good, Steven. Thanks for asking.”

“Is he English like you and Slash? He sounds different.”

Axl averted his eyes to the blonde, with a mortal glare. “Ah umnae fucking English. I’m Scottish!”

“Oh, sorry! Well, but you are all British, so it’s almost the same thing right?” He smiled, trying to start a conversation.

“Izzy, what is this bampot talking about?” Axl started to move towards Steven, but Izzy stopped him.

“Control yourself.” He gave Axl a stern look before taking a long breath.

“You must be Axl. Nice jacket.” Another blonde showed up, he had a pack of chips in his hands and he entered the room. He was taller than the rest of them and looked like he was 21 or 22. He wore black jeans and a denim jacket on top of a grey sweater.

“Yeah.”

“I’m Duff.” He pointed to himself before throwing himself on the couch.

“The guy in the library is Slash, he’s English too.” Izzy pointed towards the library, to which Axl only nodded in understanding. “Come, I’ll show you your room.”

Picking up his suitcase, Axl followed him up the stairs, lots of old pictures of Izzy and his friends were on display on the wall, and Axl almost smiled when he saw a picture of the two of them together.

Izzy stopped at the end of the corridor, opening a door on his right side. Inside the room, the walls were in a cream color and the furniture, the floor was in the darkest shade of wood Izzy could’ve found. There was a huge bed with white sheets and a white big bathroom, with a big mirror inside. The room’s windows gave Axl a view of the front yard and the street.

“Good enough for you?” Izzy asked.

“Ya.” He placed his suitcase on the floor and sat at the edge of the bed, watching as Izzy sat on the white armchair in front of the windows.

“Why did you go after me, Iz?”

Izzy took a deep breath, inhaling the last of his smoke. “I had a dream.” He exhaled the smoke. “You were in a lake and you were drowning, and you didn’t seem to make a move to get out of there.” He paused for a second. “I thought something was wrong with you.”

Axl nodded, staying in silence for a while before speaking up again. “And who are these people?”

“I met Slash on the plane to here, we were sitting next to each other, and we obviously knew what we were. He turned out to be a nice guy, but he had nowhere to stay here, I told him he could stay with me for a while.”

“And what about the other two?”

“Duff’s the owner of a bar, not too far from here, he’s cool, introduced me to some nice music. He used to live in the apartment on top of it, but it needed some reforms, and he’s staying here ever since the reform started.”

“And when will the reform be over?”

“They finished it about 3 months ago.”

“Why is he still here then?”

“Because we’re friends, just like Steven, who’s a friend of Duff’s, he was here all the time, and then I simply decided to tell him to stay permanently.”

“Since when do you care about friends?”

“I know that you’re in a terrible mood, and that the idea of living with other people is strange for you after so many years living alone. But the thing is: we all want the same thing Axl.”

“And what’s that?”

“A family.”

Axl stared into his eyes.

“It’s the only thing we can’t have, and even though we are very different, we are a family, or a clan, or whatever. We miss having people who care for us around, and we miss the feeling of belonging to something. You’ll understand it, not today, but you will some time, and then you’ll be thankful for having these people around you.”

Izzy got up, leaving the room and closing the door behind him, leaving Axl to think about his words.

---

Turns out that Izzy was right. In the first weeks, Axl would stay on his own, only joining during their daily meal and not saying a word. But after a while, he started to loosen up. He and Duff got really along, and he made Axl see the good part of Steven's and Slash’s personality.

And now, after four years living together and being this so-called clan, they learned how to coexist with each other and ended up becoming close friends, or even brothers, Steven dared to say. And in their own weird way, they became a family.

Tag list: @roger-taylors-car @ladieswttda @teasid @metalheartofgold @slashscowboyboots @ginny-rose-sixx @rumoured-whispers @bigdaddylars @dynamitebabe @tuffduff @mitchgrassified @gamsbeans @hooloovooblue @normatural @axlsbabygirl @mudkicker @dazeduchess @izzysjujuhounds @pinkpatiencecreepers @smokeandmirrorz

Add yourself to my tag list :)

#harley writes #bloodletting #guns n roses #guns n roses fanfic #guns n roses as vampires #gnr #axl rose #axl rose fanfic #Izzy Stradlin #izzy stradlin fanfic #duff mckagan #duff mckagan fanfic #slash #slash fanfic #steven adler #steven adler fanfic #classic rock #classic rock imagine

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jflemings · 3 years

Text

Rudolph ; oliver wood

warnings: light swearing, not proof read

authors note: first fic posted! i originally had a fred fic lined up but could’t get this idea out of my head. reader is in Gryffindor!

It was approaching christmas time and as per usual Hogwarts was all decked out with decor of all kinds, christmas songs playing, rich scents of cinnamon and fire and of course the snow that covered the campus every year.

It was utterly magical.

You had been on the Gryffindor quidditch team since your second year as a chaser and since then you had made it your mission for your team to dress christmas theme for your last game of the season before break. This year was no different.

The bag of charmed headbands swayed in your grip as you walked through the cold halls to find your teammates. Donned in your gryffindor quidditch sweater, school skirt and casual shoes you were practically skipping down the corridor while looking out to the snow covered courtyard. With your head in the clouds and your mind on the festivities coming up you were blissfully unaware of the pair of Weasleys that were currently barreling toward you before it was too late.

Frantic hands made their way to grip your shoulders with anticipation before a female voice was booming down the stone halls, echoing directly to your direction.

“y/n! please! you have to help us. We swear we didn’t mean it!” George’s voice filled your ears while he continued to duck behind you

“yeah honest! we had no clue that angie was walking our way!” fred flailed before hiding behind his twin who was hiding behind you. Before you had time to properly retaliate a fuming Angelina was heading straight for you and the boys.

“You two have done it this time! do you know how long it takes me to wash my hair let alone style it exactly how i want it!? ugh! and we have a match this afternoon I’m not going to have enough time!” Angelina launched herself over your shoulder in an attempt to grab their shirts

You were always somehow caught in the middle of the twins an angle’s antics. Moments before disaster struck the chasers wrists were caught in your hands.

“angie! go find hermione, she surely knows a spell to fix your hair. she has a spell for quite literally everything!” your face was soft as you spoke in an attempt to sooth evergrowing temper. She took a deep breath in and out and nodded to you, giving you the okay to let her go the twins still making the effort to stay behind you where they thought they were safe.

Once Angelina had stalked off to go and find the young witch you turned around to face the pair of freckled faced fifth years with your hands on your hips, silently waiting for an explanation.

George was the first to break.

“y/n we swear on our own graves that the slimey slugs were’t meant for her! we swear!” the younger twin pleaded

“please don’t tell Mcgonagall! or wood! oh for the love of merlin and mum’s apple pie please don’t tell Oli anything”

at this point the pair of them were practically on their knees which is a sight your personally don't see too often but unfortunately all good things must come to an end.

“truthfully boys as much as i would love to stand here and have you beg on your knees for my forgiveness I have things to do today, starting off by giving you two the prop for this year’s last game!” the enthusiasm practically seething off you as you rummage through the bag to find the two matching headbands you had organised for the boys.

“like every other year, identical and charmed to stay on all game: just how you liked it.”

the pair beamed at you and gratefully took them from your hands

“you two would’t have to know where golden boy is, do you? i want to give him his now before he gets too in ‘in the mode’ for this afternoon”

the twins looked at each other thoughtfully “we saw him in the great hall before running into you. he was alone and kind of just minding his own business so you should get to that asap” Fred answered, proping his arm up on his other half’s shoulders.

George was trying to get a peak inside the bag you were still holding, probably to try to see which headpiece you had picked to sit on top of your captain’s head for the game.

“Say, y/n, what do you have dear ol’ oliver wearing this year? trying to see who’s the favourite”

Fred lightly scoffed “C’mon Georgie, you and I both know who the favourite is”

Although he wore a playful smirk and his tone was half joking he was right. The twins, along with literally everyone else, knew exactly who your favourite was but it’s not like you made any proper effort to hide it. As you got older, the less care you had about exposing your own feelings to the whole school. You had become shamelessly flirtatious with your captain with him often returning the comments; despite this you never did truly understand where exactly you stood with oliver. you knew he liked you but you did’t know the extent of it or if he only had eyes for you.

you went along with fred nonetheless.

“yeah sorry, G you know who’s first place in my book” you said confidently while pulling out a set of antlers and a bright red nose. The twins stood dumbfounded before snickering.

“he won’t wear that” fred said flat out

“hmm not too sure about that my dear brother”

“you have more of a chance of Georgie here landing a date with Angelina than you do getting wood to actually wear that on the pitch against Slytherin”

you smirked wickedly and turned on your heel “you, my dear friend, are going to be proven wrong”

*****

okay so Fred wasn’t that wrong.

“Oli pleasee, we do it every year” you dramatically drew out

currently, you were sat straddling the seat whilst looking at oliver infront of you who was running over the drills out in front of him. He looked up from his parchment at you and tilted his head

“l/n I’m not wearing antlers and a bright red nose to a quidditch game! i probably won’t be able to play”

you huffed but refused to give up the fight.

“they’re charmed to stay on through the whole game so you can play AND they will bring you extra good luck while we’re out there” you exclaimed as you picked up the red nose from the table and began fiddling with it. Oliver looked from your hands to your face and sighed.

“what do you mean ‘good luck’” he raised an eyebrow at you with curiosity laced in his words, almost like he wanted to believe you. You grinned.

“Because your favourite chaser is giving you them of course!” the grin etched upon your face somehow widened at the sight of a slight tinge of rose pink dusting the keeper’s cheeks.

This prompted an eyeroll and a sigh escaping his lips. “just because you’re the favourite doesn’t mean I’m wearing a nose” your ears perked at the unexpected response you just got and you leaned in closer to his face.

“So i am the favourite, huh?” the smirk gracing your lips was cocky yet it flattered when he turned to look at you.

His honey coloured eyes drifted from your eyes to your mouth and back to your eyes “you know damn well you’re the favourite”

You felt as though a whole zoo had been let lose in your stomach and the soft smile that then graced your lips was the only tell sign of that. You did know, of course. Everyone did. But it’s not like he’d ever said it out loud and if he had it certainly wasn’t to you or while you were around.

“But you aren’t getting me in that headband and nose”

your head dropped before throwing it back dramatically “Oliver wood you are going to look like a fool if you’re the only one on the team without a costume”

“then i’ll look like a fool, darling” the smug smile off his face never left until he watched you get up and walk out of the great hall to go and find the remainder of your team, leaving behind the costume for him on the table. He smiled softly to no one but himself before returning back to what he was doing.

*****

Lunch time had rolled around and you were sat with Lee and the twins discussing the match you were set to play in less than few hours with wood nowhere to be found. You found yourself pushing your food around your plate with your fork in an effort to think of another way to get oliver to wear the stupid antlers. It was only one match for crying out loud! you were all going to look like idiots anyway so why not join in.

Your train of thought was broken when Lee Jordan had directed the topic of coversation away from the match and onto you and oliver.

“y/n would so make the first move are you kidding? I love wood as much as the next guy but all the quidditch going on in his head has surely been a distraction from his plan about how he’s gonna plant one on y/n” Lee was confident in his answer and Fred agreed

you looked up from the miserable plate of food infront of you to hear george speak

“oliver is as dense as a doorknob when it comes to his feelings for y/n. if they were gonna kiss he would just do it as a spur of the moment kind of thing, no think just do and hope for the best.” he shrugged as he spoke through potatoes while waving his fork about, angelina and katie agreeing by his side. Then they all turned to you.

“We haven’t kissed, if that’s what you are silently asking” you dropped your fork with a clank “but since we’re talking about it, I would be the one to make the first move, no questions asked” the smirk on your face was triumphant and Fred and Lee high five you from over the table.

“Let’s make a bet then” George piped up “five galleons to me if Wood makes the first move or five galleons to Lee if y/n makes the first move”. He scanned your group looking for a sign of protest before shaking on it with lee

“Don’t lose me those five galleons, y/n” Lee complained.

you shifted in your seat and gave him a thumbs up and the best smile you could muster while eating food. All you had to do was think of how you could get wood to wear that darn costume and then give him a big ol’ kiss, no worries at all.

*****

It was go time.

The whole team was ready to fly, charmed headbands and new plays were ready to go but your fearless captain was no where to be seen.

Anyone who knew oliver knew that he lived and breathed all things qudditch and now with such an important game about to start he was no where to be found. nonetheless, the team was lined up with angelina filling in as captain for now because it seemed you didn’t have one at the minute.

this made you unbelievably nervous, so much so that you felt like you were about to pass out and if it wasn’t for the twins and their antics you might’ve been on a one way trip to the hospital wing right now.

“do ya reckon oli is dead? because I mean why else would he be late to a match against Slytherin?” fred deadpanned while george stood behind him snickering to no one in particular.

you had momentarily thought about fred’s statement simply because you really couldn’t think of any other reason why oliver wouldn’t be here 2 minutes before you were set to fly. Your hands were now starting to lightly cramp around your broom and you were beginning to nervous sweat despite winter being right around the corner; internally you were an absolute shitshow. volcanoes were erupting in the depths of your stomach and your heart was hammering against your ribcage and the only thing that was on your mind was where the hell was oli?.

As if the gods above had heard your question one frantic keeper donned in red and gold came barrelling through the change rooms and you swear on your own grave you had never felt so much relief in your life.

“sorry I’m so late! I lost track of the time and was trying to find something important” oliver apologised

walking through your team his hand found your shoulder and he leant into your ear “can’t have all my reindeers losing their way because they don’t have a Rudolph”

looking up at him, he sent you a cheeky wink while putting the nose and antlers on his head before returning to his rightful place in the front and centre.

“You guys know what to do, let’s stomp on some snakes” the confidence oozing from his voice was indescribable. the way he spoke was powerful and reckless yet when he turned to look at you over his shoulder the facade dropped when he began to speak softly “Hope my favourite chaser is ready to win”

a warm smile graced your lips “always, captain”

*****

The sheer determination and house pride coming from the stands was overbearing. the screams, cheers, house war cries and encouragement made the desire to win even stronger than before. You, Angelina and Alicia were flying laps around Slytherin; your teamwork unmatched as you continued to set up and score goals for your friends. Fred and George were on their A-game. their aim had improved tremendously since last season with them becoming more coordinated to make sure you and the girls were able to score all you needed. Oliver was so focused on the opposing team and their chasers that you were certain he was unaware of the close score right now. It was 100-110 with Gryffindor taking the lead. all harry had to do was catch the snitch.

He had spotted it and now was neck and neck with malfoy. they were flying dangerously close to the stands where screaming students were situated. this was going to be the closest game you had had in a while.

Just as Alicia had set up a goal for you to score harry caught the snitch and your whole team hollered at the outcome of the game.

“YES! GET IN HARRY!” George had yelled at the top of his lunch while Fred and Alicia laughed in delight at the sight of George almost falling off his broom.

You flew over to an exhausted looking Angleina and did your best to pull her into a hug mid air

“You were amazing Angie! absolutely brilliant! the hard work payed off!” you praised your close friend and the two of you made your way to the ground where students had begun piling off the stands but there was only one person you wanted to see down there.

The sound of your broom hitting the grass could be heard by the people around you when you caught sight of oliver hopping off of his broom. You ran to him and flung your tired arms around his neck with him instantly returning the favour as his arms held a tight grip on your waist.

“Oli we did it! everything that you drilled into us payed off, all the early morning training, that staying up into the early hours of the morning, all of it! every single bit!” you exclaimed and pulled away to get the first proper look at him that whole afternoon. His smile was splitting his face in half and for the first time in a while it felt like the two of you were the only ones in the world.

One of his hands moved from your waist and up your back to grip your shoulder from behind before he dipped you and gave you the most passionate kiss you had ever gotten.

it felt like the twins had let a bunch of fireworks loose in your stomach, his neck felt hot under the touch of your calloused hands and his lips melted perfectly with yours. The both of you pulled away for breath, still not breaking eye contact.

“If I get this lucky every time I wear these stupid antlers I might as well glue them to my head” he half heartedly laughed at himself while continuously ignoring everyone around you who had now decided to pay attention.

Lee’s voice rang out over the microphone.

“Y/N! I thought i told you to not lose me those five galleons” he groaned while George grinned in triumph

Oliver, who still had you dipped but was now looking up at lee, looked back down at you “you placed a bet on our kiss?” he quizzed you while an eyebrow raised.

all you could do was laugh and feel your heart swell in your chest

“sorry, love. but i was fairly confident that our first kiss was going to be my doing” you smirked and grabbed his face pulling him in for yet another kiss.

Christmas had certainly come early this year.

tags: @castieltrash1

#oliver wood #harry potter #hp imagine #oliver wood x reader #x reader #hp fic #pegswrites

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spencersawkward · 3 years

Text

switchblade faith // spencer reid - chapter 2

summary: one month after joining the BAU, Clea is still settling in. between solving murders and getting acclimated to DC, the only comfortable thing in her life is her friendship with Dr. Spencer Reid.

word count: 3.5k

masterlist

Richard Slessman's bedroom looks like something straight out of a serial killer documentary. floral wallpaper taunts Morgan and I as we walk inside. a model airplane hangs above his bed; cheap medals-- the kind kids get for participation-- decorate the area above his desk, which is littered with books about forensics. there's a carousel of CDs, too.

"whoa." is my brilliant analysis.

"we should have Garcia check out this guy's laptop." Morgan starts to wander around the room, trying to piece together Slessman's head just by examining his things. a group of cops are already huddled at the table with the laptop open, and I realize too late what they're doing.

"log in password." one of them plucks a post-it off the screen, starts to type it in.

"wait, wait--" Morgan and I nearly lunge toward them, but the crackling sound of a fizzing motherboard tells me we're too late. the screen goes black.

"it's not turning back on." Genius #1 observes. Morgan sighs and squeezes his eyes shut in frustration.

"yeah, and it won't. it's a false password."

the cops stare up at us blankly.

"it triggers a complete shut down of his system." I clarify. they share a look, deservedly feeling stupid. I want to roll my eyes, but Morgan's told me that the police on these cases get defensive most of the time; they don't like us on their turf. one glance from my partner, though, and those guys flee the room without another word.

I pull out my phone and dial Garcia's number in the hopes that she can salvage whatever's left of this asshole's computer. we arrested him an hour ago and we can only hold him with probable cause because we don't have any charges yet. this house search could be our only chance to get him in custody.

"well hello, my fresh-faced beauty queen." Penelope answers on the second ring. a slight smile turns up the corners of my mouth.

"hi, Penelope." I watch Derek plugging something into the laptop, then opening another monitor next to it. "listen, Morgan's trying to set up Richard Slessman's computer and I was wondering if you'd be able to hack into it."

"oh, kitten," she sighs contentedly. "that's my bread and butter."

"great. I'm putting you on speaker." I press a button and wait for Morgan to talk. he's typing furiously until a tab pops up with the words "Deadbolt Defense" in bold above a box for a password.

"what's the six at the bottom of the screen mean?" I ask.

"remaining password attempts until it wipes the hard drive." Morgan replies. shit.

"Penelope, there might be a journal or document or something that tells us where Heather is." I inform her.

"what system are we talking?" she asks.

"Deadbolt Defense?"

"Deadbolt is the number one crack-resistant software out there, hon. you're gonna need to get inside this guy's head for the password."

my heart sinks. when my colleague double takes, it makes me think that this is a rare occurrence.

"babygirl, are you serious?" Morgan complains. my shoulders droop. Penelope has been nothing short of genius since I got here. slicing through sealed files and unfurling secret criminal records is always ridiculously easy for her.

"sorry, handsome."

"thanks anyway." I hang up and shove my phone into my back pocket. "so... what now?"

"now," Morgan takes another look around the room. "we get creative."

...

somehow, I wind up in the attic. I don't really know how this happens, seeing as I started by flipping through discs in Slessman's weird quasi-childlike bedroom, but it's certainly an interesting space. Christmas lights are strung about, along with some shawl-like material that drapes raw ceiling.

the laptop sits in front of me, password cursor blinking mockingly while I sit in the chair. my head is aching. despite having the unit go through every single one of the CDs in search of the most-played one (hoping it'll crack the password), there's been nothing.

at least there have been other successes since we got here: we know that Slessman isn't operating on his own. he's the submissive in a partnership with Timothy Vogel, a prison guard where he was incarcerated a while back. the problem is that Vogel was onto us and fled to the kidnapping site, which we can't find. I feel useless sitting here with nothing to offer.

I consider going back downstairs and perusing the room again when I hear footsteps on the stairs. Reid's head pops into the room, spinning a bent paper clip between his fingers.

"hey." I greet curiously.

"I've been thinking about the CDs." he responds, walking over to me. I rub the heels of my hands against my eyes.

"we tried it, Reid. there's nothing there," I slam my back to the cushions with an exasperated groan. "if we don't find something, this girl is dead."

instead of replying, Reid bends down next to the laptop in front of me, squinting at the DVD slot in the side. he pokes the end of his bent paper clip into the small opening.

"I think we may have missed the obvious." he murmurs, working diligently. I scowl.

"what do you--?" in response to my question, the DVD slot pops open and out slides a copy of a Metallica CD. Reid and I look at each other with wide eyes before I snatch the disc out of of the computer and stare at it. "what made you think of this?"

"it was the only empty case." he shrugs. I grin at him.

"okay, okay," we still don't have the password. I read the cover of the case he hands me. "I'm an insomniac who listens to Metallica to fall asleep. what song would make me do that?"

Spencer frowns, grabs the thing back from my hands, and scans the track list within the span of a second.

"'Enter Sandman'." he says. I watch the puzzle pieces fall into place in his brain, those lips parting with a slight smile playing at the edges. his eyes gleam with satisfaction.

"you are a national treasure." I type like the wind, unlocking the screen and immediately digging into his files. Spencer peers over my shoulder as we search for any indication of Heather's location.

"fucking bingo." I mutter when a video feed pops up. it's black-and-white, showing a crate in the corner of the room with a light hanging above it. Heather's inside, eyes duct taped and hands tied in front of her.

Spencer is already dialing Hotch's number. the blood drains from my face as I watch her trying to breathe through the gag in her mouth.

nothing in the feed is helpful in terms of finding out where she is. it's a nondescript room with wooden floors, mostly shrouded in darkness except for the light hanging overhead.

"wait a minute." I pause what I'm doing.

"hm?" Reid asks. I hit a few keys, trying something.

"I'm lining up the last twelve images." I explain as he watches me work. the photos sit in a grid on the screen, causing my heart to stop in my chest when I notice what I've been meaning to find. "look at the light."

"it's shifting positions like it's swaying," he notices. "like the earth is tilting."

"the ocean." I nod. we share another glance, both of our hearts hammering. we're so close to solving this, I can feel it in my chest. "we need to tell Hotch. find out if there are any piers or docks near here. there's no way he could get the webcam image from the middle of the ocean."

Reid nods, runs downstairs as fast as he possibly can. when he goes, I notice the board in the corner of the room: Go, mid-game. I've never learned how to play.

...

by the time I get back to my apartment that night, my limbs feel like jello. I collapse into the chair by my door and rub my eyes again. my head is still pounding now that the adrenaline rush has subsided. we ended up finding Vogel at the docks; Heather is safe. Hotch was shot in the arm, but he'll be fine. and I'm still a little in shock.

I hate the rumble of my stomach as I realize I haven't eaten since this morning. my head was too full of other thoughts to even consider food and after such a long day, I can barely fathom getting up to change into pajamas.

my phone buzzes in my pocket and I pull it out to see that Garcia texted me.

what are you up to? followed by a series of emojis that make me smile. I sink deeper into the seat before replying.

nothing why?

can I bring over takeout?

I stare at the message for a second with surprise. Garcia is fun and we've had drinks as a team, but I've never hung out with her one-on-one before. I'm curious.

sure. what genre of food should I expect?

Thai. send me your order!

that sounds so good right now, I almost order it myself. part of me is nervous about hanging out with a team member by myself, except she's been so friendly to me. Penelope was the first person to make me feel at home, aside from Prentiss.

I wait patiently for her to arrive, watching some TV and working my way through some leftover paperwork. my thoughts are everywhere right now, but when she tells me she's downstairs, I try to put it all out of my mind.

"hey!" I open the door to see Garcia with an armful of plastic bags.

"I have your curry, and I got chicken satay and spring rolls and fried rice in case you're still hungry." she beams at me. her bracelets make a pleasant clinking noise as she waves the goodies around.

"a woman after my own heart." I smile, stepping aside to let her in. we head upstairs and before long, we're settled on my couch with a full display of food on the coffee table. I heap my plate while she looks around my space.

"this place is so cute!" she says through a bite of spring roll.

"thanks. I've had it for about two years now. that window over there was really the selling point." I point to the enormous view of downtown DC, which is sparkling right now. there's another chair set in front of it, where I sometimes read or nap in my free time.

as we eat, Penelope and I gossip about work and the city and everything else. she's really easy to talk to. when I ask about her life, she doesn't seem guarded at all; unlike a lot of FBI agents I've met, she wears her experiences on her sleeve.

"how are you liking the team so far?" she asks a similar question as I received this morning. I smile to myself before answering truthfully.

"everyone is great. Hotch is kind of terrifying, but I've worked with people like him before." I shrug. he reminds me of one of my old professors: perpetually stoic to the point where he doesn't even seem like a real person. she laughs.

"he's super nice once you get to know him."

"really?" I look up.

"definitely. he's just always got that scowl on his face. don't let it put you off." she pats my hand reassuringly. I sigh, finish chewing my bite. there's been something prodding me since visiting Garcia's tech lair for the first time, when she showed me her collection of puppy calendars and fuzzy pens.

"can I ask you a question?"

"anything, my love." she smiles warmly. I hesitate, hoping I don't ruin the moment somehow.

"how did you get involved in the FBI? you just don't seem very..." my sentence trails off.

"government oriented?" she laughs. "I used to do a lot of hacking in my free time, and I got into some stuff that the government didn't like. and, um-- you know that saying, 'if you can't beat 'em, join 'em'?"

I nod.

"it was like that, except they hired me. and I love it." she finishes the last spring roll. I think on this, imagining Penelope doing something so serious that the American government hired her on the spot for her skills. it's interesting.

"so you don't profile at all." I state.

"technically no, but I've picked up a couple things." she smirks.

"oh, yeah? like what?"

"well, it's obvious that you're never home, based on the lack of decoration here." she refers to the mostly blank walls of my apartment. aside from a couple photos of my friends and family, there's not much unique to me. "and you've obviously got a candle addiction." she points to the various spots around the living room, where half-burned pots of wax sit patiently awaiting their next light.

"that's definitely true." I laugh. she gets up and starts to smell the various candles.

"I like this one a lot." she sets down my chai vanilla one. I let her go through my things, despite the fact that Garcia is incredibly reserved about people touching her own little office trinkets. she picks up stray books and memorabilia, occasionally making a comment.

while she does, I finish my curry. I'm way too tired to resist her search, anyway. I'll be curling up in bed soon and praying that tomorrow is a paperwork day. eventually, she settles onto the cushions again.

"you seem tired," she says when she glimpses the dark circles beneath my eyes. "I'll get out of your hair."

"what? oh, I'm sorry." I draw myself up a little more. "this last case just took a lot out of me."

"they all do." she gives me a soft expression, then pats my knee as she stands.

"Penelope." I say as she gathers up her coat and purse.

"yes, darling?"

"thanks. for the food and for coming over." I smile gratefully at her. the tech analyst stands at my door with a look on her face that makes me think we're going to be good friends.

"anytime." she heads out, leaving me on the couch. I stare at the mess of empty takeout boxes that I told her to leave. now that I've eaten, getting up to clean the space is even more difficult. I trudge about the apartment, wash some dishes, and head off to bed.

my body is too exhausted to remember the dreams.

...

"oh my god, I'm so sorry!" I practically sprint into the conference room, swinging my bag down by my feet as I grab the last open chair. JJ is standing at the front of the room with a new case on the screen. everyone stares at me as I settle in. "my train was super delayed."

"everyone is allowed to be late," Hotch barely glances up from the case file. "once."

a chill runs down my spine and my face flushes an embarrassing red as JJ passes me the remaining file. keeping my head down, she notices my discomfort and clears her throat.

"okay, you guys are heading to Arizona today." she clicks a button. some pictures pop up for us to see. "Bradshaw College in Tempe has had six fires in seven months."

it's a video recording of a building from the outside, and two students talking about a fire inside. the camera shifts to show them in their own dorm, examining a strange wet spot leaking into their room. and then one of them catches on fire.

he burns to death on tape. it's jarring, the shrieking noises he lets out as the flames engulf his body. they travel up his legs alarmingly fast, so much so that it's obviously chemical.

"the first fire was in March, the second in May. the third didn't happen until September." JJ explains once the clip is over. "and then two weeks later, there were three that happened in one night."

"he's speeding up." Prentiss observes from her spot next to me.

"82% of arsonists are white males between seventeen and twenty-seven. female arsonists are far less common, with motives usually limited to revenge." Reid sits across the table, adjusting his watch.

I raise my eyebrows at his fact and look more at the crime scene photos. burned flesh is definitely an uncomfortable sight, one that makes my stomach churn.

"sounds like he's a student." Morgan taps his pen against his fingertip and leans back in his chair.

"I wouldn't be so sure," Hotch continues to read the document. "we don't want to rely too much on precedent."

at this, I press my knuckles to my chin and try to think of other suspects. he's obviously doing these during the school year, but that doesn't necessitate that he's a student. he could be working on campus-- a professor, even.

"there's a rapid escalation. he's gone from the damage to a building to something far more satisfying." Morgan closes the file and we all look to Hotch.

"wheels up in thirty." he says. I get up to grab my go-bag and gather some things from my desk, my cheeks burning at the memory of being late again. I've never done that before, but I don't want to start now. maybe it's best if I start coming in early, just in case my train gets delayed again. I can't risk losing this job, or being moved to a different department. it was enough of a hassle switching from sex crimes to the BAU. I really want to settle into this position, and that includes having the unit chief not hate me.

"hey." Prentiss catches my wrist just as I'm hurrying out of the room. I turn to her.

"hi."

"a little birdy told me that you and Reid pretty much single-handedly solved that case yesterday." she smiles.

"oh, no. it wasn't just us." I shake my head.

"quit being modest. nice job." she nudges my shoulder as we walk down the steps to the bullpen. "also, I brought a couple of those horticulture magazines that I told you about. we should read them on the jet."

"no way!" I pause at my desk, grinning.

"one of them has a whole section on caring for orchids."

"orchids?" Morgan overhears her from his desk. he appears deeply concerned with our discussion.

"if you have to ask, you wouldn't understand." she smirks. he turns his attention to me in hopes of a clearer answer.

"it's plant care." my explanation seems to be enough to bore him, however, because he just shrugs and returns to packing his bag up. Emily waves the stack of magazines at me before I head over to her desk.

she doesn't really seem like the type of person to be into it, but when Emily caught sight of the air plants I've got scattered on my desk my first week, we got wrapped up in a conversation about them. there's a special magazine subscription as well that has a bunch of helpful tips about where to buy and how to keep them healthy.

I'm flipping through one of the copies on the way to the elevator, my nose buried in a section about how much to water Hoyas, when Reid and JJ pop in next to me. the blonde is on the phone with someone, presumably the Tempe police. I haven't seen much of her recently-- she's been staying behind for most cases-- but she sends me a sweet smile before returning to her call.

"what are you reading?" Spencer's eyes hungrily run over the paper, as if seeing something he hasn't already absorbed in that big brain is unbearable. his hair is slicked back as usual, and his tie is sort of crooked; he's not aware of it. I hold the material between us so he can take a peek.

"a magazine about plants that Prentiss and I like."

"fascinating. can I see?" he grabs it before I can answer, although I don't think he means to. his fingertip runs down the page quickly, and then he's flipping them like mad, staring at the pictures. my eyes widen at how eager he is; I guess his curiosity is enough to override any awkwardness.

"did you know that owning indoor plants is actually correlated to overall mood improvements?" he asks me once he finishes reading, attention still focused on the back cover. the elevator door to the main level slides open.

"no, but I'm proof of it," I take back the reading material and put it in my bag. we walk out into the lobby. his long legs mean that my pace has to quicken a bit in order to keep up. "something about taking care of them is quite nice. they don't need as much attention as a pet, but they still rely on you."

"interesting." he nods.

"I like to think so."

"maybe I'll get one." he muses more to himself than anyone else. I smile at his open-mindedness, keep my eyes on the tiles we're walking over. maybe he, Prentiss, and I can have our own affinity club. he would become more knowledgeable than both of us combined within the span of a week.

#spencer reid #matthew gray gubler #dr. reid #criminal minds #mgg #fanfic #fanfiction #wattpad #friends to lovers #BAU #slow burn

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tae-cup · 4 years

Text

je te laisserai des mots | KTH Oneshot

Pairing: Kim Taehyung x Reader

Summary: You go back to where it all began...

Genre: Post-death, Angst, Fluff (it’s hard to explain but it’ll make sense)

Word Count: 4.8k

Rating: PG

Warnings: Mentions of major character death (It’s what it’s about)

A/N: I got all up in my feels listening to je te laisserai des mots and thus this fic was born....

Other: Masterlist

Kiss me

Whenever you want

Kiss me

Whenever you want

10 years later and standing beside his open casket of wood and dust was not the way you thought you would see him again. And he was so young. Only 28. The high arches of the wooden church taunted you, alluding to a higher place, one you may not reach, one where he was resting. Because Taehyung was always an angel.

The gray clouds outside were the only sign that one should be sad at this moment. The strangers passing by were not to know of your grief; the loss of a lover, the future plans slipping away.

10 years. You were supposed to meet him in 10 years and plan your lives together from there. They had cleaned him up well. His body smelled of roses, the blood was wiped from his forehead. You had met him 10 summers ago.

Ten Summers Ago

Under an oak wood tree you had rested, a leather bound book in hand. The hazy summer afternoon sky heated the air and your eyes were weary. The days of sitting, reading, and sleeping were just starting.

You had left your home in the big city of Seoul to reside in the country for a few months. It was always quiet. It felt like the slightest noise was a thunderous clap. So, you sat, still as a mouse, while you read. The wind running through the trees and rustling the wheat crops were your only company.

Peaceful. It was peaceful, perhaps a little boring, but relaxing nonetheless. You rested your back against the wood and pressed your book to your chest as you began drifting off. Your eyelids were heavy, the heat of the day taking over.

“Hey, don’t fall asleep yet! I haven’t been able to introduce myself!” A deep voice shouted, startling you out of your stupor.

You jolted upright, coming face to face with a boy hanging upside down above you. He twisted and landed on the ground with a light thump.

“H-how long have you been up there?!” You sputtered, standing and clutching your book. The boy grinned childishly, though you were sure he was your age.

“Long enough.” He said vaguely. “My family just came here this summer and I haven’t seen anyone my age. I was gonna ask if you wanted to hang out, but if you would rather nap, then be my guest.”

The boy had a twinkle in his eye, a youthful gleam that seemed to be lost on you. For the longest time, you’d had to be a grown up. Being an only child, your parents expected a lot from you, wanted you to be successful. It was this that resulted in you maturing a lot quicker than your peers. You turned away, tilting your nose slightly.

“I don’t know if I want to talk to a boy who hasn’t even introduced himself.” You declared, crossing your arms. “I mean, isn’t that how you’re supposed to woo a lady?”

“Who says I’m trying to woo you?” His expression softened.

“Every boy I’ve ever met just wants to get in my pants. What else do I need to know?”

“Well, I’m not like that.” The corners of his lips tilted into a soft smile.

The dark curls of his hair hung down and framed his face wonderfully. You found him to be quite handsome, actually. It had been a long while since anyone had made you nervous, or flustered.

“How am I supposed to believe that?” You asked, turning back to face him with a questioning look. “You were just watching me for god knows how long without introducing yourself.”

“You sat under my tree.”

“I’m sure I’ve been here longer, Mister.” You huffed.

“Right you are.” He relented. Then his lips lifted into a boxy smile. “I’m Taehyung.”

“Y/N.” You smiled back.

The grass shifted under the breeze and the shade of the tree covered yours and Taehyung’s hands as they shook.

“I can tell this is going to be a summer like no other already.”

You chuckled at his declaration and nodded along. “We’ll see about that.”

Present

You stood under the oak tree. It’s branches still hung overhead, tall and proud. A part of you was expecting him to pop out from above, swinging upside down, but that would never come to pass. The cold air blew through your hair, the sun covered by the gray of the sky. The tree was losing its leaves, the barren branches reminding you of what was gone.

You sighed and pulled yourself from your thoughts, turning to search through the overgrown bramble. Your eyes caught onto a tattered red ribbon under the bushes. You fell to your hands and knees, hands reaching through to pull on the small square of fabric.

The old bush scraped at your hands, but you managed to get a hand on the ribbon. Then you pulled, the weathered material stretched and then up came an old shovel. The shovel was rusted, buried long ago. Dirt clung to the rotting wood handle.

You took a deep breath and turned back to the tree. The dirt was covered in grass and wildflowers. Your fingers traced the seams of the trunk, searching for the initials that were carved long ago. Frowning, you ran over it again. Your fingertips caught on the slightest of cracks, the unnatural curvatures catching your attention.

You bent and scanned your eyes over the mark. There it was. A heart with your initials and KTH. It brought a sad smile to your face. You gripped the shovel tighter, the old wood giving slightly under your touch.

Ten Summers Ago

“May I have this dance?”

You pushed him away with a laugh. “No way, weirdo.”

“Aw c’mon, Y/N, you’re no fun.” Taehyung cried, crossing his arms.

The local town was holding the annual summer festival. The roofs were connected through colorful streamers and red lanterns. The aroma was of baked goods and cooking meats. Children ran by with kites and there was a warm glow to the air as it fell to dark.

Loud music of drums and guitar floated down the street. In the center square, you stood with Taehyung. Your parents were exploring and left you with him to go off and shop around. There was somewhat of a dance party in the city center and Taehyung had dragged you along.

“I’m a lot of fun!” You protested. “Why else have you been hanging around me for the past month, lover boy?”

“Fine, fine. Where do you want to go?” He deflated, looking less than happy. Your stomach twisted uncomfortably.

You glanced between his disappointed gaze, the band playing, and the bright lights of the vendors down the street. With a small smile, you took his hand.

“Let’s dance.” You said softly, dragging him behind you to the dance floor.

There was a crush of people, some slow dancing, others grinding, and everything in between. You placed one hand on his shoulder and the other in his hand. Then he lifted his arm to your waist, tugging you closer.

“I love this song.” He murmured in your ear, before he was off.

The beat was lively and he started quickly maneuvering between the crowds of people, leaving you racing to keep up with his feet. You laughed, heart racing as the lights and people blurred around you.

He swooped you low and then threw you back up. The only person in focus was Taehyung, and you were drunk on his boxy smile. The boy spun you around and then clasped his hand back at your waist. The heat of his hand burned through your clothing.

“Taehyung, this is crazy.” You shrieked as he skirted around the poor couples who were moving slower.

“I know, isn’t it fun?” He chuckled, slowing slightly.

You stumbled, stepping harshly on his foot. He let out an oomph and lost his footing. You tripped over him, bringing you both to the ground. You rushed to place your hands on the concrete, halting your movement and wincing as the gravel dug into your palms. You heard him suck in a breath and you glanced down. Your heart raced, the music becoming muffled as the blood rushed to your ears.

You were hovering inches above him, his face a short distance away, his lips tantalizingly close. You cleared your throat, rolling to the side and standing up, dusting yourself off. Get a grip. There was an unreadable look in his eyes. Then he slowly stood as well.

“You alright?” He asked hesitantly.

“Yeah, I’m fine, are you...are you okay?”

“Perfectly,” He cleared his throat a couple times. “Perfectly fine.”

You nodded stiffly. Your cheeks were still rosy, the exhilaration and adrenaline still coursing through your veins.

“Wanna...wanna check out something else?”

Present

You were shaking. Your hands were shaking as you traced his initials in the tree with your fingertip. The memory of what once was, haunted you. With a shuddering breath in, you penetrated the dirt with the shovel. The metal creaked against the wood of the handle. You continued to dig, piles of dirt thrown over your shoulder.

You were sweating, but you continued to dig with a tenacity that could only be described as obsession. The brown dirt turned to mud as you dug deeper. You swiped at the sweat as it dripped down your temple. Then, you hit it. The familiar clang of metal on metal met your ears. You bent and pulled the box out, sharpied initials on the top.

Memories...Y/N & Tae

Were written on the metal cover. A wave of grief rolled over your body and as much as you shook, you still opened the lid. You pushed the heavy metal to the side, dusting the dirt off.

Inside were two neatly folded letters, one with the words, To Taehyung and another with the words To Y/N. You already knew what was written in the To Taehyung letter, after all, you had written it. And you had dreamed for many nights, of watching him open and read the words you had written on those cream colored pages. Sadly, fate would not have it that way.

Your fingers brushed the envelope entitled To Y/N. Your voice caught in your throat, afraid of making a further movement lest the tears watering your eyes were to fall. You took a breath, re-covering the box for a moment, and closed your eyes. You didn’t know if you could stand it anymore; the flood that threatened to overwhelm your body.

Ten Summers Ago

The cafe smelled like coffee and sugar. The small shop was almost empty despite it being the morning. You waited for Taehyung, the morning sun just gleaming over the horizon. The bell at the door rang and you glanced up to see Taehyung rushing in. His hair was windswept, curly bangs falling in a heap on his forehead.

You waved him over and his eyes lit up as he made his way to the table. He pulled out a chair, the legs scraping loudly against the ground. He winced at the screeching sound it made and you hid a chuckled behind your hand.

“What did you order?” He asked.

“Just a coffee and bagel. I ordered you a tea and cookie.” You answered, staring idly out the window. The street was quiet, barely anyone walking by.

“Ah, you always know what I like.”

“You talk like we’ve known each other for years.” You rolled your eyes.

“A couple months? A year? It’s all the same.” He waved it off with a shrug.

“I suppose so.” You smiled, turning to face him.

“Hey, there’s this place I wanted to show you today and it’s best if we go early.” He reached out and grasped your hand. You shivered at the way his palm caressed your skin.

“Is that the reason you got me up before the sun rose and then arrived late?”

He flushed a bright red, shaking his head fervently.

“No-no!” He stuttered.

Then he dropped your hand and you found yourself missing his skin on yours. The dark haired boy scratched the back of his head sheepishly.

“I just...I just needed to get some things ready.”

“Alright.” You shrugged. He stood and held his hand out.

“Let’s go, it’s not too far.”

The lake was serene, not a single breeze appearing to disturb it. Your eyes traced the water’s edge and then to the forest of trees lining it. There was an old wooden dock at one side, where you were standing. Your arms were crossed, the sun beating down.

“I wanted to come here because the water is still cold and it’s hot now.” He explained. Then he started to lift his shirt overhead.

“Oh my god, you can’t be serious!” You hissed.

“What? No one is around.” Taehyung shrugged and threw off his shirt to reveal his well shaped abdomen. You averted your eyes respectfully.

“I don’t know, Tae.” You murmured. “What if I don’t want you to see me in my bra, huh?” You complained.

“Whatever you want, Y/N, but know I wouldn’t mind.” He wiggled his eyebrows. You playfully shoved him.

“That’s the problem!”

He chuckled and turned around, placing his hands behind his back.

“I won’t look.”

After a moment of staring at his back incredulously, you sighed and stripped. First was your shirt, which revealed the black bra underneath, you kept your shorts on, however. Then you tugged his arm.

“Slow poke!” You shouted, racing to the edge of the dock and jumping in.

It was deeper than you thought, the cool water surrounding you instantly. The only warmth was your body and it was slowly being sucked away. The chill took your breath away, but you opened your eyes to look around. It was a murky blue, almost calming.

The kelp reached up from the bottom, the inky black of the depths drew you closer. Your eyes flicked upwards. The world was blurry from the water, but your eyes didn’t sting. The sunlight streamed through the waters.

You smiled and kicked upwards. Breaking the surface and peaceful quiet of the underwater, you saw Taehyung. He had backed up and ran off the dock with a shout. Water splashed over you and you let out a shriek, swimming away from him as the impact rippled the water. He resurfaced and shook out the wet locks on his head.

“Hah, nice try, Y/N, but you’re not getting rid of me that easily.” He chided.

“Maybe you should just keep up better.” You shot back.

The grin on his face widened. He remained silent, just watching you. Your hair floated around you. It was silent, the only noise being that of the swaying trees.

“Stop staring at me like that.” You giggled.

“Like what?” He answered dumbly, he moved ever so slightly closer to you.

“Like...like…” You studied his expression.

His features faded into something softer, more caressing. You’d only ever seen your father look at your mother like that. The realization hit you and you found the words slipping out of your mouth without a second thought.

“...Like you love me.”

His lips twitched upwards slightly. “Maybe I do.”

Present

You opened the box and grasped the cool pages into one hand. You fingered through the crisp paper, unsure if you should open it. With a deep breath, you pushed your fingernail through the old tape.

The familiar handwriting hit you, the ink still dry as if it were written yesterday. If yesterday was 10 years ago. You carefully read through the letter, letting his words pull you back to a hazy summer afternoon. To ink drying and melting popsicles.

My dearest, Y/N,

Wow, 10 years is a long time, huh? I wonder who I’ll be by then, I wonder what we will be. You know, I’m writing this, but I don’t really know what will happen; whether I’ll be with you, or without you. But I don’t think I’ll ever forget you, Y/N. Anyway, laugh now and pretend I’ve written something funny, because I got nothing. Haha. You know I’ll never forget this summer, or spending late nights with you out at the tree, I won’t forget your lips.

Oh, I was absolutely floored when you kissed me back! Seriously! You’re probably laughing now, I know it’s cringey. Okay, but hear me out, I have ZERO experience. Stop laughing! I know you’re laughing, stop it! Listen, it was like my world had opened and I could see the stars for the first time. It’s like the clouds split open and I could see the night sky; and in that galaxy of stars, I see you. You shine brighter than the rest. You’re my star, my galaxy, and I am, but the lonely Earth.

Love,

Kim Taehyung (Tae Bear)

Under the last page was a small note. You took the note out, the wind whistling in your ears.

“Follow the trail…” You murmured to yourself, reading the paper. “Stumbling feet and sugary air, here, is the place we had our true first dance.”

You turned the paper, brain turning as you searched your memories. If Taehyung was here, like he should have been, he would be able to help you out.

“The festival.” You whispered.

Ten Summers Ago

“You know that idea I had, last night?” Taehyung browsed the jewelry shop.

“I don’t recall, it was late.” You said, distracted as you felt the cool metal of a ring between your fingers.

“It was about a time capsule. We could write letters to each other for ten years in the future.”

“Ten years?” You set the ring down and turned to him, tilting your head slightly. “Ten years is a long time.”

“Then hopefully we’ll still be in touch.” He shrugged and looked through some necklaces.

“That’s assuring.” You grumbled, moving to look at the rack he was browsing.

“I like this one.” He held up a necklace with a dainty rose gold chain and an opal butterfly charm front and center.

You admired the piece of jewelry as it glimmered in the sunlight that streamed through the windows of the shop. The bored shopkeeper glanced up for a moment before returning to her phone.

“I don’t know, not my thing.” You said casually, but you did. You liked the shiny gold and pristine white stone.

He shot you a boxy smile, white teeth revealing themselves. “Well it’s not for you, is it?” He teased, marching up to the cash register and paying the ten dollars for it.

You flushed a bright red, sheepishly looking away.

“I wasn’t suggesting that.” You said quietly. His features softened.

“How about this, I’ll give it to you on Tuesdays, Thursdays, and Saturdays.”

“I don’t want it.” You frowned. “Anyway, I have some promise rings here.”

You picked up two metal bands. They were a shiny silver metal with a thin strip of gold that wrapped around them.

“We should get those, and let’s get two boxes, waterproof.”

“Why two?”

“Just cuz.” He said vaguely, paying what he owed. You eyed him.

“Okay, Mr. Mysterious.” The corners of your lips tipped upwards.

You couldn’t help it, every time you saw him, it was like the room lit up.

You swiped the sweat from your brow and felt it trickle down your temple. The droplet traced its way down your cheek and fell to the dirt.

“Was this really necessary?” You complained, as you stuck your shovel into the ground.

“Just trust me, it’ll all be worth it.” Taehyung huffed, shoveling one last scoop of dirt behind him. He then turned and dragged the metal box into the hole.

“I hope so, Tae bear.” You sighed, collapsing onto the ground as the sunlight poked through the thick leaves of the oak tree. He patted the remaining box next to him and sat next to you, leaning against the trunk.

“What’re you going to do with that?” You nodded towards the other metal box.

“Something.” He answered, again, vaguely.

“Mysterious once again.” You frowned. You glanced to his neck, noting the missing necklace.

“I guess, but you just have to trust me.” He shrugged and you just sighed and nodded to his words.

“Fine.” You huffed, letting yourself relax. Taehyung wrapped an arm around your shoulder and you leaned into his hold.

“One sec.” He murmured into your ear, pulling away a little. In his hand was a rock and he leaned in between the two of you. The boy slowly started to carve your initials and his into the tree.

“There, now we’ll always know where to find it.” He whispered. You watched him.

The shadow of the leaves covered his face, but he still shined bright. His skin was a golden hue from the days spent running around in the sun with you. His hair was wild, curly bangs splaying across his forward and spread on the tree trunk behind him.

You admired him. He, who was so vibrant and lively, so beautiful and so...human, had fallen for you. You, a faulty human being, a disgruntled girl, someone seemingly so plain, yet here you were. It was like comparing the sun to the dirt of the earth, but between the two, there was...life.

Present

You stood at the town center. But this time there was no celebration, no festival, and you were alone. You stood, watching the fall leaves skitter across the gravel. You dropped to your knees, searching the ground for some sort of sign.

After finding no sign of a note in the loose gravel, you searched the fountain. You ran your fingers gently along the edges of the fountain. Each tile was a different piece of art made by local artists and anyone who wanted to join the contest at the time. You admired the art as you continued along.

An hour passed and you were at an impasse. You just kept thinking about how if he was here with you, you would have found it. You groaned, lying down on the ground and staring up at the gray sky. It was overcast, looking like a blank canvas in the air.

You’re my star, my galaxy, and I am, but the lonely Earth. You turned over, eyes spotting a tile. There. It was of an Earth, the carefully crafted lines making a neat and simple design. At the side, there was a neat scribble of handwriting. The paint was faded, but the glaze had kept it mostly intact. You crawled over, tilting your head to get a better look.

The cafe of tea and coffee cake. What a small world.

You chuckled at his clue and then sighed melancholically. He isn’t here anymore. You made your way across town to visit the coffee shop. You took the table that you had always sat at. It was still quiet. The hum of coffee machines and ovens whirred in the background. You ordered a coffee and searched the table.

The bell rang and the door opened. On instinct, you glanced upwards. The flash of black hair set your heart alight, but alas, it was not him. No, he was never going to walk through those doors again.

You bit your lip and went back to surveying the table. You found this one quite easily this time. There, scratched underneath the table, were a few words.

“And to the lake we go, under the dock, you will find my hidden treasure chest.” You whispered as you read over the note.

You squeezed your eyes shut, just taking in the moment. You would need to retrace your steps all the way to the beginning...and you didn’t know if you wanted to feel the same pain all over again.

You gasped to the surface, choking on water and clinging desperately onto the dock. You threw the metal box, which was sealed with a massive amount of plastic encasing it, onto the old wood. You summoned the last of your energy and pulled yourself onto the rotting wood. God, did Tae want you to drown to try and get this box?

You sat up, ringing out your hair, and shivering. Your clothes were soaked through, the wetness gathering in a puddle around where you sat. The metal box looked so clean, it was like it was taunting you. With a deep breath, you began to unpack the box.

“Oh...tae.” You sighed to yourself. Inside were three familiar items.

The first two were metal circles, metal rings with a faded golden strip twisting around the band. You held them up to the sky and then slowly slipped one onto your finger. You felt yourself choking up, unsure of whether to continue, but you forged onwards. You held the other ring tightly in your hands.

The next item was a rose gold chain with an opal butterfly at the end. If you held it close enough, you could almost feel his beating heart still resting against the cool metal.

You smiled at the necklace, the piece of jewelry that was so close to your heart.

“You know, Tae, I was lying before.” You said out loud, loud enough for the quiet lake to hear. “I really love this necklace.” You managed, your voice softer, before your vision started blurring.

The tears fell, rolling in waves down your cheeks and glistening like diamonds. It was at this moment that the aching cavity in your chest grew. The hollowness felt like it was about to swallow you whole. With shaking fingers, you unclasped the necklace and placed it around your neck, the piece of him now resting above your heart.

You gathered the box and papers together, your clothes soaked, and unsure if the wetness on your cheeks was because of the water or your tears. You made your way to the car and, shivering, started to drive. You knew where you needed to go.

“Dear dummy, best friend, and of course, Tae Bear.” You began.

The yellowed pages of your letter rested in your hands as you sat next to his gravestone. You weren’t much of a spiritual person, but you could feel a presence. You hoped it was him.

You cleared your throat once more. You had changed clothes and pulled your hair up as the breeze had kicked in. Still, baby wisps of hair floated across your forehead every so often.

Dear dummy, best friend, and of course, Tae Bear.

Ten years, huh? It’s been ten years since we’ve met. I wish I could say how I’ve seen you grown, but the truth is, I’m writing this in the past. Crazy, right? I hope you’re still the same goofy kid I know now, and I want you to know that...you’ll always have a place in my heart. When I first saw you, I thought you were some creepy kid watching me from a tree, hah! It turns out...you’re so much more than that. You are...my inspiration. Tae, you’re so good natured and fun loving it hurts. Also, you’re just waaaaay too beautiful, it’s intimidating, please...my heart…

I wish I could stay in this summer afternoon forever. I wish I could hold onto this moment, with you, with this little village in the middle of nowhere. Because what happens here, between us, no one else will know or understand. I want to stay with you, Tae. In the span of a few months, you’ve consumed my thoughts. I can’t think of spending my time with anyone else. And yet...reality is a cruel master, and all good things must come to an end.

Love,

Y/N (Y/N-ie)

You read him the letter, the letter you had dreamed of reading to him 10 years ago. You took in a deep breath of crisp autumn air. The cold ground didn’t bother you. Instead, you just sat, letter in hand, metal ring on your finger, and opal necklace around your neck.

You couldn’t cry, you didn’t have it in you, but it wasn’t because you were too sad to cry, no. No, you felt a sense of relief. This letter hadn’t been written as a goodbye, it had been written to signal the beginning of something new, something you wanted to explore with him by your side. Him being in the ground and you above it, kept you apart.

It’s like the clouds split open and I could see the night sky; and in that galaxy of stars, I see you. You inhaled, feeling his words washing over you, letting them consume you, the mementos of everything you knew of him. The pieces were slowly pulling together. You pulled him in close, you whispered words of love, and then you let him go.

You stood, placing your letter to him under a rock on his grave, then you gently placed his promise ring on top. You bent down and kissed the ring.

“Thank you, Taehyung.”

I’ll leave you words Underneath your door

Underneath the singing moon Near the place where your feet pass by

Hidden in the holes of wintertime And when you’re alone for a moment

#bts #bts x reader #Kim Taehyung #Taehyung #Taehyung x reader #V #angst #fluff #tatawrites #PG #je te laisserai des mots #castlebangtan #ficswithluv #bangtanuniversity

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songsformonkeys · 3 years

Text

Digging Up Bones (whiskey x f!reader) - chapter 3

[Banner by the lovely @yespolkadotkitty ]

Summary: You work for the Statesmen as the head of their medical department. It’s your job to patch up anyone who gets back wounded and to work on ways to prevent them from getting badly wounded in the first place.

Agent Whiskey, in particular, seems to be more accident-prone than the rest and he never passes up a reason to come see you, whether for real injuries or imaginary ones. The two of you form a close friendship, which slowly turns into something more.

Then a British man with a headshot wound and a fascination with butterflies shows up in your emergency room and in the events that follow you’re forced to reevaluate just about everything you thought you knew about your partner.

Warnings: canon typical violence

Masterlist

Chapter 3

The following three days passed in a slow fashion. Not just because Whiskey was gone but the rest of the agents seemed to be staying out of harm's way as well. It was a bit boring, but that was something Tonic had taught you not to complain about out loud since it apparently made it sound like you longed for injuries and carnage.

On the bright side, the slow days gave you, Ginger, and Tonic time to begin interviewing the agents on base for their emergency folders for the Alpha-gel.

The three of you had realized that while the gel and the nanites healed the brain perfectly fine they still needed something to counter the retrograde amnesia, which seemed to be a standard side effect. The sample of agents that had needed to use the gel was still small and so you couldn't draw too many sure conclusions from it, but every single one of them so far had suffered memory loss. It had been Tonic's idea that reminders of a past trauma might jump-start the memory again. The results had been good but guessing and digging up past traumas had been painstakingly difficult and had taken up more time than ideal. So you had collectively decided that each agent should have a file or a folder containing their very worst memory and ways it could be triggered.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

On Wednesday evening, you curled up in your armchair and called Whiskey. He picked up after three rings.

“Moonshine, “ he drawled, voice sounding a little tired.

“Sorry, did I wake you?” you asked, suddenly feeling a little bad. It wasn't that late in the evening but maybe Whiskey had needed to tuck in early.

“No no, I was awake,” Whiskey assured you, “Just got home from a looong day at an art auction. I'm not sure if you've ever been but it is possibly the most boring thing I have ever done.”

“Yeah? What was so bad about it?” you asked, smiling to yourself. You would be caught dead before admitting it out loud but you had actually missed him these past few days.

Whiskey began describing his day. A soon as he began talking, his voice relaxed you. You pictured him walking around in a swanky hotel room, with a view of the big city, probably still wearing his hat. You were half convinced he even slept in that thing.

Whiskey told you about the auction and the few stuck-up people who had pretended not to understand his southern accent just to make him feel less than. Then he told you about the way he'd later wiped the smug smiles off their faces by actually bidding home the small painting they had been ogling.

“Champ might kill me for it, 'cause it cost a small fortune, but it was worth it!”

“What will you do with the painting?” you asked.

“Hm,” Whiskey said and you didn't need to see him to know that he was shrugging, “Dunno. Might hang it in my apartment. It's a beautiful painting, reminded me of someone special... Speaking of my apartment, have you finished the cake yet?”

You nodded, before remembering that he couldn't see you.

“Yes, Ginger and Tonic helped me eat the rest of it.”

You had been over to Whiskey's apartment the day after he'd left. When you'd gotten to work, his key had been in a white envelope on your desk and you hadn't been able to keep your curiosity at bay for longer than a workday.

The apartment hadn't been quite what you thought Whiskey's home would look like. It had been much neater and cleaner than you had expected, for starters. You had expected more of a bachelor pad but Whiskey's apartment was quite nice. It looked lived in but not messy. Each thing seemed to have its own designated spot. As you had walked around the living room towards the kitchen you had taken in the big, comfortable-looking couch and multi-colored knitted blanket that looked like it was homemade.

There had been a couple of books on art history resting on the wooden coffee table. You had stopped, slightly in awe, in front of the big bookshelves that covered a whole wall of the room. You'd never pictured Whiskey to be the reading type, but here was clear proof otherwise. You had scanned the titles of the books and the exceptionally wide array of subjects made you suspect that a lot of these had been read for previous missions. But there had been a whole shelf of fiction too and you smiled a little as you noted that a lot of them seemed to be old western classics.

You had found the cake in the fridge in the equally clean kitchen. The cake had been in a plastic container and Whiskey had stuck a post-it note with a smiley on the lid.

“I liked your bookshelf. And I borrowed a book from you,“ you confessed over the phone and Whiskey chuckled in response.

“Is that so? Which one, if I may ask, was it that caught your fancy?”

“Lonesome Dove.”

“Ah, a classic! Didn't have you pegged as a western girl, Moonshine.”

“I'm not sure if I am, I've never read any. But you had a lot of them and I thought...” You cut yourself off, glancing over at the book on your bed, “You had a book on human anatomy as well that looked interesting and one on make-shift medical treatment when you don't have access to a hospital. I didn't take those, though. It felt wrong to take so many books without asking...”

Whiskey chuckled again and the sound did weird things to your insides, or maybe it was the nerves of having just admitted to raiding his bookshelf.

“Darlin', if it makes you happy, you are more than welcome to help yourself to any book in that apartment”

“Really? But what if it's a book that you suddenly need?”

“Then I'll know perfectly well where to find it.”

You couldn't really argue with that logic, didn't really want to either because the prospect of getting to read all those books almost made you giddy.

“So besides ogling my books, what else have you been up to while I've been gone?” Whiskey asked and you proceeded to tell him about the work with the Trauma Folders, which Tonic so affectionately called them.

“You still haven't submitted yours either, by the way,” you told him. Whiskey didn't immediately answer. The line was dead silent for a few seconds and just when you were about to ask if he was still there, he cleared his throat.

“Yeah, I know. I promise to get right on that as soon as I'm back, okay?” He sounded a little odd and your brow furrowed slightly. Whiskey cleared his throat again.

“Look, darlin', I'm pretty dead on my feet right now and as lovely as your voice is to listen to, I think unfortunately we gotta hang up before I start snoring on you.”

“Oh, of course! Sorry, I've talked too much.”

“Hardly,” Whiskey replied and his voice was warm and soft again, which eased the nervous knots that had begun forming in your stomach at his abrupt attempt to end the call. Usually, that was your role to try and say goodnight and his to try and linger. “I cherish every word, which is why I prefer to be awake for them. Call me tomorrow again?”

“Sure. Good night, Whiskey.”

“Good night, darlin'”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

If the previous days had been slow, the following day was anything but, at least when the afternoon rolled around.

Ginger had called you about some very strange low-frequency readings coming from a church nearby in Kentucky. She told you that she and Tequila were gonna go check it out but that you should be on standby, just in case.

You told her to be careful. Ginger was excellent at her job but she was also one of your closest friends and you couldn't help but worry.

After you'd ended the call, you immediately set about preparing the emergency room and double-checking to make sure everything was there. Seeing as neither of you knew what the strange readings had been about, it was difficult to prepare for every possible scenario, and while you knew that the health effects of exposure to extremely low frequencies were being discussed in the medical community, no one knew exactly what the effects were.

It seemed like a lifetime had passed before Ginder called you again. You heard the sound of the helicopter in the background. She told you that they'd be there in thirty and that they were bringing someone in with a headshot.

“I'll get the chamber ready for him!” you told her

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Thirty minutes later, on the dot, you watched as the helicopter landed and Tequila emerged, carrying a man in a suit. The man's face was obscured by the balloon containing the Alpha-gel but his clothes looked expensive.

“Entry point?” you yelled, over the sound of the helicopter as you waved for Tequila and Ginger to hurry inside.

“Straight through the left eye,” Ginger replied and you winced. The left temporal lobe would be damaged, for sure, maybe part of the occipital one too. You were confident that the nanites would be able to rebuild the brain matter but with the temporal lobe damaged you worried that the memory loss might be even more extensive than what you'd seen before and you wondered if it would affect his speech.

“Exit point or is the bullet still in there?” you asked.

“The bullet went all the way through as far as I could tell. Not sure what he was shot with though so we'll have to scan to make sure there's nothing left in there.”

Said and done. When you got down to the medical rooms you first put the man through a thorough scan of his skull. Just like Ginger suspected, the bullet had gone straight through and it luckily hadn't left anything but damaged tissue in its wake. Tequila helped move him over to the nanite chamber. Carefully, you removed the Alpha-gel balloon and quickly closed the chamber around his head.

“What happened?” you asked as you sat down in front of the computer and began tapping away at the keyboard, starting the machine and readying it for the healing and rebuilding process.

“We have no idea,” Ginger said. “We found him like this outside the church, no sign of who had shot him. Inside the church, however...”

“What?” you asked.

“Inside was a total fuckin' bloodbath,” Tequila supplied, “Whole congregation just...slaughtered.”

You looked over at the strange man.

“You think he did it?”

Both Ginger and Tequila shrugged.

“We don't know. But he's got blood on him that isn't his own and there was no gun in his hand so he clearly didn't shoot himself, which means someone got away from that Church alive.” Ginger reasoned, “And there's one more thing..”

She pulled a pair of glasses from the pocket of her jacket. The left glass was shattered.

“He was wearing these. These aren't normal glasses, which means he's not a civilian. And his watch... he's some sort of intelligence. I'll dig around and see if I can find out whom he belongs to.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

You called Whiskey again that evening. He sounded more awake today but you could practically hear the frown on his face when you told him about your strange new guest. He was not happy.

“He's an agent?” he asked.

“We think so. Ginger is running some tests on his glasses and his watch to see what we can figure out but so far we have no idea whom he's working for. So we just have to wait for him to wake up and see how much he remembers.”

“I don't like this,” Whiskey stated. “Not one bit. If he's intelligence, he's dangerous, Moonshine. You shouldn't be alone with him, not under any circumstances!”

“I won't,” you reassured him while rolling your eyes. “Agent Tequila also has an over-protective streak and has, therefore, put himself on guard duty until further notice. I've had him looking over my shoulder all evening.”

You had found it somewhat annoying but Whiskey had instantly calmed down upon hearing that bit of information. He told you to promise to listen to Tequila on this, which you reluctantly did. You didn't tell Whiskey that if the arrangement continued, you would have to come to some sort of agreement with Tequila on how close was close enough for protection. You couldn't have him reading over your shoulder all day long or you'd go stir crazy.

Whiskey continued to ask you a bunch of questions about the strange man and you couldn't answer a single one. He asked you about the signal too and you couldn't give him any answers to that either. It was all Ginger's area of expertise and you told him as much.

“Sorry, darlin', just wanna make sure my favorite girl is safe until I get back.”

Whiskey's words made you smile stupidly, despite the slightly patronizing undertone of them. You would like to think you knew how to take care of yourself, especially around your patients. But you did enjoy it when Whiskey called you his favorite. No one else had called you their favorite before.

After a few more minutes of chit-chat, you both said good night.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The next day, your patient woke up.

It had been decided the day before that Tonic and Tequila would be the first ones to greet him. Tequila because of the whole bodyguard business and Tonic because he was by far the one who had the most experience with calming people in shock and panic. You had only sulked a little when you'd sat down the desk on the other side of the one-way mirror showing you the stranger's cell. You turned on the cameras in the other room to record the interaction before leaning forward over the desk to watch.

As anticipated, the man was more than a little freaked out by waking up in an unfamiliar place with unfamiliar faces around him.

“Where am I? Who are you?” he immediately asked and you raised your eyebrows as you noted his British accent. The stranger tried to scramble off the bed where he'd been lying. Tequila took a step forward but Tonic quickly held up a hand to stop him.

“You are in a hospital,” Tonic told the frightened man and gave him a calm smile, “My name is To...Tom.”

“A hospital? What happened?” the stranger asked.

“We were hoping you would be able to tell us. You were in some sort of accident and when we found you, you were unconscious.”

Unconscious... that was definitely an understatement to describing having had one's brains blown out through the back of their head.

“Do you remember anything of what happened?” Tonic continued.

The British man looked around the room with wild eyes but he was already calming down a bit. While you were a bit jealous that Tonic, or Tom apparently, was the first one to get to talk to your new patient you had to admit that it was a privilege to get to watch him work. Tonic continued talking to the man and answering his questions by saying just enough to calm him but not enough to confuse him.

You found out that his name was Harry, but he couldn't remember his last name. He was from England and he thought he was 23 years old, which he most definitely was not. You caught Tonic and Tequila exchange a look as Harry told them his age. If Harry couldn't remember anything beyond his 23rd year then you estimated that he had forgotten more than half of his life. And since he wasn't one of your agents, you had no idea how to bring those memories back again...

Tonic and Harry spoke for a while longer and Tonic told him about his injuries. He also told harry about the memory loss. Harry didn't believe him until Tonic guided him over to the one-way mirror separating you from them and let Harry have a look at himself. You stood on the other side of the mirror and could watch as realization dawned on Harry. His breathing immediately sped up again and he was beginning to panic.

“Harry,” Tonic said calmly, “Harry, I'm gonna need you to breathe slower with me, okay? We've seen this kind of memory loss before and we will do our very best to help you recover the memories you can't remember right now”

“Think of it as one hell of a hangover,” Tequila supplied and Harry gave him an incredulous look.

“Hangover?” he asked in a weak voice “I look old enough to be a grandfather and I don't remember any of it... I don't think anyone has ever been drunk enough for that kind of hangover.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Tonic and Tequila handled the whole ordeal in a way that made you proud to call yourself their colleague and they stayed with Harry for most of the day, talking and explaining. Harry listened patiently and you had to give him credit for taking the situation a whole lot better than some of the Statesmen who had gone through the same thing. He was scared and worried, sure, but he managed to keep his panic in check and asked Tonic a whole bunch of relevant questions.

You wished you could have stayed and watched all afternoon but eventually you had to go back to your own office and begin typing up your report.

You had barely gotten two paragraphs in when your phone started ringing.

“Moonshine?” Whiskey said as soon as you picked up and you could immediately tell that something was wrong. He sounded scared. There were car horns blaring and loud crashes in the background.

“Yes. Whiskey what's...”

Whiskey cut you off before you could finish your question.

“Where are you?” he asked and when it took you a fraction of a second too long to answer, he repeated the question, “Moonshine! Where are you?”

“I'm in the office. Whiskey what's wrong?”

“Good! Whatever you do, stay where you are! There's something in the air! People are killing each other!”

“What?” Before you could say anything further, your door burst open and you screamed from surprise.

“Moonshine!” Whiskey yelled, panicked, as Ginger stormed into the office and pushed you out of her way to get to the computer. She began tapping on the keyboard and you watched as she pulled up live feeds from several cameras around the country. Your mouth fell open as you watched the chaos that filled the screen.

“MOONSHINE!” Whiskey yelled again and you realized you hadn't answered him.

“I'm fine!” you quickly assured him and you heard him exhale loudly. “Ginger just showed up. What the hell is going on?” The last question was aimed at them both. The quality of the feeds wasn't the best but there was no mistaking what was going on. All over the country, people were killing each other.

“The fuck if I know,” Whiskey said at the same time as Ginger supplied the slightly more helpful “It's the same signal! It's the same low frequency as we picked up from the church. But this is all over...well the world”

She turned and looked at the phone in your hand.

“Is that agent Whiskey?”

You nodded but then froze as you heard a banging noise on the other end of the line, which sounded much closer than the previous ones. You heard Whiskey curse.

“Whiskey?”

There was another crash and he cursed again.

“I'm sorry, darlin', I seem to have a visitor. I gotta go.”

“Whiskey,” you begged and you heard your own voice break as you spoke his name.

“Don't worry, sweetheart. I'll deal with this and then I promise I'll come right home to you. You just promise to stay inside and stay safe, okay?”

What about you? you wanted to ask, but Whiskey had already hung up.

“He'll be fine,” said Ginger, who must have seen the expression change on your face. You nodded. She was right. Whiskey was an excellent agent. He would be fine.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

He would be fine. You managed to convince yourself of that up until about an hour later when the office phone called. You were too busy clutching your own phone, waiting for Whiskey to call back, to pay any attention to the other phone so Ginger picked it up and answered. She exchanged a few cryptic comments with the person on the other line before ending the call by saying:

“We'll be ready for him.”

After she'd hung up the phone she turned towards you.

“Whiskey's on his way back. He's been stabbed but according to the pilot, he's stable. They're flying him back now. “

#whiskey/reader #whiskeyxreader #agent whiskey #kingsman golden circle fanfiction #kingsman golden circle #my fanfiction #female reader

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