#i actually took damage from it because it’s like??? you’d think i’d stoop that low??? is that the vibe im giving off?? | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

labyrinth-runner · 3 years

Note

can we be alone for a bit? For obi wan x reader, please? 👉👈 thank you

Title: A Royal Flush

Word Count: 4k

Warnings: None

Summary: Reader is a Queen returning home after war. Much has changed and she must learn whether she will change for it, or fight against it.

I know I use this gif a lot, but he just looks so soft in it. Thank you, @coredrive for posting it because its truly lovely.

Because I’ve watched way too much Bridgerton, I shared a yearning list, so here’s some yearning. Thanks, @the-mandalorian-clone-lover for putting up with my incessant questions.

The battle had been long and tiring, but eventually it was won. You’d lost so many, and there were still so many more wounded as he siege to take back your kingdom came to an end. Your kingdom was yours again, free from the clutches of your enemy. Now, you were to negotiate a deal with the Republic, represented by the man at your side. Their assistance for yours. It was simple enough after the months of fighting, but you knew the fight was far from over. While you knew you owed the Republic everything, you also knew that some of your court would not feel the same. That would be another battle entirely.

Walking up to the castle across the bridge felt odd. The scorched earth on either side of the path left an acrid smell that stung your nose. It mixed with the singed smell of your dress from where you’d narrowly avoided becoming one with the Force multiple times over the course of the week as you traveled with the warriors to rid the world of the last few holdouts. Your knight and protector had insisted this was no place for you, but you had reminded him that you were not defenseless, knowing your way around a weapon.

“It will be a while before the earth is viable again,” you commented to Master Kenobi as you walked side by side.

“Unfortunately,” he agreed with you, “We can only limit the damage so much.” His brow furrowed as he struggled to ask you something.

“Speak, Master Kenobi,” you bade him, “You know I’ll always listen, even if I don’t take your words to heart.”

“Are you nervous?”

“About coming home to my people?” you asked as you stopped to look up at the palace in front of you. It was large and imposing, towering well above the landscape and leaving you swathed in its shadow. The shadow of the crown that had always been heavy on your head, but even more so now with the deaths of your people on your hands because you had been too naive. “Yes. I’d be foolish if I didn’t worry about them blaming me for all of this.”

“Why would they blame the one person who fought the hardest for them?” Obi-Wan asked incredulously.

“Because at the end of the day, they were left defenseless. I should have known that the kingdom would be invaded. I was too naive to think that being neutral could have spared us. In the end, the people suffered. My people suffered,” you said emphatically. “Now, come on, my people have been waiting long enough.”

You walked faster, pushing your way into the throne room where the rest of the court waited. A hush fell upon the room as they all turned to look at the intruder. There was a man in your seat. You set your chin in a hard line.

Obi-Wan came to a stop behind you as you started to stride forward. One by one, heads bowed down and knees bent for their fierce warrior queen. You were covered in soot and ash, and your hair was falling out of the intricate braids they had been woven into, but you were relentless. Your footsteps were confident and sure as they carried you back towards your throne. The man vacated, stepping to the your left. You sat, looking out over the awed assembly.

“Welcome home, your Majesty,” your advisor to said.

You leveled him with a gaze, “It is good to be back at court. However, our presence brings with it some conditions.” You looked up at Master Kenobi, your lip tugging up ever so imperceptibly at the sight of him. “We owe the Republic our lives, and that is a debt we intend to pay.”

Master Kenobi held your gaze until you broke it, turning to address the people around you. “We will have a treaty drafted by the end of the week. That will give the troops enough time to recover before they are sent somewhere else.”

“They have earned that much,” a man said from the doorway as he strode over to you.

You raised a brow at the man, having never seen him before. “And you are?”

“Kane Gridlow, your Majesty,” he said, dipping into a low bow at the foot of your dais.

You cast a look on your advisor who cleared his throat. “Lord Gridlow has kept the court together in your absence, your Majesty.”

Your eyes flashed with slight anger and hurt that some man could give your people the strength you could not. “Well, we thank you for your service, then,” you said as you sat up straighter.

“Your Majesty, I was hoping to get a moment of your time,” Lord Gridlow murmured, looking up at you imploringly.

A pit of dread formed in your stomach as you caught your advisor’s eye and nodded. “Leave us.”

The court filed out, jostling Obi-Wan with it and you were left with your advisors and the man who had ruled in your place.

“State your purpose, Lord Gridlow,” you ordered with a dangerously even voice.

He shared a look with your advisor. “Your Majesty, the advisors and noblemen seem to think that it would be best for the stability of the kingdom if we wed.”

You almost scoffed. Almost. Until you noticed that your advisor looked gravely serious. “You wish to corner a queen into a marriage.”

“We just think-”

“Not we, you,” you corrected. “We are the acting authority.”

“You were absent.”

“We had no control of that,” you shot back. “And we do not appreciate being spoken to like this.” You stood up and came to stand in front of him. “We will not be forced into things. Not by our enemies, and certainly, not by you. Dismissed.”

“Your Majesty-”

“Dismissed.” You repeated.

Lord Gridlow hung his head, giving you a mocking bow. “As you wish, your highness.”

Your eyes narrowed at his retreating figure. How dare he insult you by using the wrong honorific? Rounding on your advisor, you saw him wither in the crosshairs of your eyes.

“Your Majesty, I can explain-”

“Oh, can you? You can explain how you were willing to just give us out to the first nobleman that came knocking? Is that it? You were going to whore your queen out for the good of the kingdom?” You asked, voice rising in pitch. It was rare that you were mad, but beneath it all, you were hurt.

“The nobles will not support a treaty if you are alone,” your advisor simply stated.

You looked down at your folded hands, feeling quite young despite the power you held. You dropped all pretense and all formality, becoming the woman in a man’s world who was the only heir. The only option. You’d always known that they had never really wanted you, but you never quite felt that until now. You swallowed the lump in your throat and gave him a sad look, “I fought for you. I only ever ask that you should do the same.”

You gave him a nod of dismissal before crossing over to your balcony to look out over the courtyard. Leaning on the rail, you took in the people milling about below. They were preparing for a ball to mark your return. Perhaps they also thought it should mark the announcement of your betrothal as well. You looked up to the heavens as if asking for strength to get you through it all. You’d always told yourself that you would do what must be done for your people, that in the grand scheme of things, you were but one, the sole guardian of the many.

The weariness in the people passing by was apparent upon second glance. Young women wore the worry lines of widows who wondered how to feed their children. Children laughed in sparing doses, the knowledge of the world weighing down their mirth with the absence of their innocence. They looked how you felt: tired. The campaign had been hard on all, but on your people most of all, you could now see.

Yet, could you commit yourself to that odious man who had prostrated himself in public, yet dared to berate you in private? Was that the man you were expected to grow old with? Your eyes fell to the statue of your father in the middle of the square. He had married your mother for love, turning down multiple arrangements before you could even talk in order to give you a fighting chance at the same. A sigh passed your lips at the realization that it was all in vain.

“If I could choose,” you murmured wistfully as you looked down at a young man in a brown robe who had stooped to smell a rose, “I’d choose you.”

As if sensing your gaze upon him, he turned to look up at you. The action dropped his hood from his face, shining the sun on his auburn hair. You gave him a sad wave and his brow furrowed in concern. His eyes held a question in them that you couldn’t bring yourself to answer. You never wanted to lie to him, but you couldn’t burden him with the truth either. Casting your eyes down, you backed away, retreating to your rooms in order to finally take the bath that you should have had days ago but never seemed to have the time for.

You dismissed your attendants as soon as the water was filled. Having spent months on the battlefields, you had learned to take care of yourself. You knew it was an honor to be a part of your retinue, but right now all you wanted to do was be alone with your thoughts.

Lazily, you took your wash cloth and ran it over your skin. With your eyes closed, it reminded you of the time you had cut your arm during a fall and Obi-Wan had cleaned you up. He had teased you for being so stubborn and actually fighting, telling you that he never met a monarch with a death wish before you. He had been so gentle with you that night, kind. A kindness you might never know again. Slowly, you let yourself slip below the water, exhaling a barrage of bubbles as you opened your eyes. The light refracted along the water, glinting off the gilded tub. Only when your lungs started to burn did you resurface, sputtering water as you did so. Your lungs heaved at your stupidity, and you soon found that you were crying as more water droplets splashed into the water. You looked down at your reflection in the water and threw the wash cloth into it, sending ripples through the water. Taking a steadying breath, you got out and wrapped yourself in a towel before heading into your room to be dressed.

“Your Majesty, it is good to see you,” a voice murmured as you sat down at your vanity. You met the owner’s eyes in the mirror and smiled.

“Not as good as it is to see you,” you reassured her.

“It’s been too long,” she squealed before going to find you the perfect gown. “But, I must ask, what is the story of the man who came in with you?”

You turned on your stool to face her, “Liz, he’s off limits. Their kind don’t take wives.”

“He doesn’t look at you like he’s off limits,” she said coyly.

You felt your face heat up at her words. “It doesn’t matter now,” you sighed sadly, “They wish to marry me off to that Lord.”

“What they wish and what you do should not always be the same thing,” Liz said pointedly. “They do not have to live with all the consequences of that decision. You do. You are their Queen. Make your decision, and they will surely fall in line.”

“They won’t support the treaty otherwise,” you replied. “With the Republic at war, they need safe passage through the kingdom. They helped us defeat their enemies on our soil. It only makes sense that we should pay that good will forward.”

“I’m sure they’d understand if you couldn’t,” Liz replied.

“I gave them my word,” you replied. “I need him- them, I need them to know that means something.”

Liz looked down at the dress in her hands and sighed. “Well, should this be your last night of freedom, then we will make it your best. We will make you look so good that they will still believe in the divine right of kings.”

You cracked a smile at that, “Well, I’d certainly like to see you try.”

“As the old monks used to say, ‘do or do not, there is no try,’” Liz winked as she set about to work a magic that was often unappreciated by other nobility, but not lost on you.

By the time she was done, you were exquisite. Your hair was a series of intricate twists and braids that cascaded in all the right places to frame your face. Your dress sparkled in the light as you tentatively ran a hand down the intricate beadwork. It was white and pure. You looked like an angel that had descended from the heavens specifically to save them all. To add further evidence of your right to be there and the fact that you and you alone were their cause for freedom, Liz nestled your crown atop your head.

“Lest they forget who their true ruler is,” she remarked.

“I had almost forgotten how heavy this was,” you mused.

“Heavy the head,” Liz murmured as she pinned it in place, a hairpin held in the corner of her mouth as she added, “If he doesn’t confess tonight...”

“Lord Gridlow?” you asked in confusion as she finished and stepped back.

“No, Lord Kenobi,” she said pointedly.

You blushed, “Obi-Wan isn’t a lord.”

“Obi-Wan? You use first names, your Majesty?” she asked with a waggle of her eyebrows.

You shook your head slightly at her as you got up from your seat and slipped into your shoes. “Titles mean nothing on the battlefield. All are equal when on the end of a blade or a blast.”

“Do you view him as an equal?”

You looked at the crown on your head, “Yes. I do believe I do.”

Music drifted up the corridor from the ballroom down below.

“I believe that is my cue,” you sighed as you went towards the doors.

Your footsteps were light as you followed the melody, but your heart was heavy. As you came to a rest at the top of the stairs, you could see the party down below. Murmurs ceased and heads bowed in deference as you floated down the stairs. All eyes were on you, but your eyes scanned the crown for a familiar brown cloak. Disappointed when you could not find it, you reached the bottom of the stairs, casting your gaze to your feet.

“Your Majesty, may I have the honor of your first dance?” a lightly accented voice inquired.

Your eyes flicked up to the owner and you allowed yourself to smile. “I believe the honor would be all mine.”

Gently, you placed your hand in his. He held it like it was the most precious thing in the world as he led you towards the middle of the ballroom. He bowed. You curtseyed, and then you danced.

“I almost thought you didn’t come,” you murmured, “I hardly recognized you.”

“It’s been a long time since I’ve worn clothes like these,” he admitted with a smirk that didn’t meet his eyes.

You wanted to melt into him, but instead you just allowed yourself to be as close as was proper. “You look very handsome, but uncomfortable.”

“I could never hide anything from you, could I?” he asked softly. “And neither can you hide from me. Darling, what happened earlier?”

You wanted to admonish him for the use of that pet name. After all, it wasn’t proper, but you loved the way it rolled off his tongue. He hadn’t always called you darling. It was a term of endearment that you had earned about halfway through the campaign on one of the instances you had almost died. A blast from a canon had knocked you clear off your feet and into the dirt. Your ears had been ringing and you could feel the blood trickling down your face from where you had hit a rock. In a minute, he had been at your side, begging you to hold on.

Darling, stay with me.

“Darling?” Obi-Wan asked.

You blinked, refocusing on his face. “Hmm?”

“Stay with me, I know I’m a horrible dancer, but it’s almost over,” he grinned, but his eyes showed concern.

“There’s nothing horrible about you,” you replied as the song came to an end.

He was left speechless in the wake of you as you withdrew to mingle with people you hadn’t seen in over a year who you were certain could not care less about your presence here tonight.

In your bones, you had known this wouldn’t be the triumphant coming home that you wished it would be, but that still didn’t make it sting any less. An inconvenient queen without a King. That was all you were.

Lord Gridlow asked you for a dance and you could not refuse, however every spin around the room had you searching for Obi-Wan’s eyes. When you deemed it proper to take a break, you went to stand by the sidelines as you sipped a drink.

“He seems dreadful,” Obi-Wan murmured as he stood next to you.

“They would have him be King,” you replied absentmindedly.

Obi-Wan blinked for a moment at your indifferent attitude to it all. “Does the Queen not have a say?”

You looked at him out of the corner of your eye as you felt the warmth of his hand next to yours. Your smallest finger brushed against his. His hand moved to envelope yours, but then you remember not only where you were, but also who you were. You cleared your throat and prepared to make your rounds. “Excuse me.”

After the lukewarm reception you received from the majority of your nobles, you began to feel the weight of your crushing reality. You had won the war for them, but in doing so had lost their respect. You wanted to laugh, but most of all, you needed air.

It felt wrong to stand in the stuffy high society after experiencing the hardships of war. There were villages that were decimated, children who starved, and yet here they were practically throwing wealth out your gilded windows in your absence. They wouldn’t notice you were missing, not with Lord Gridlow taking care of their interests and protecting their investments. The nobles, you realized, were content to watch the world outside the palace burn so long as the flames stayed far away. Hell, you thought, they might as well use it to warm themselves without remorse as well.

Slipping out of the crowd, you made your way into the night. The air cooled your skin and filled your lungs. You wanted to scream. You weren’t cut out for this. Not anymore. You stood on your balcony as you looked up into the starry night. A feeling of disappointment settled in.

“You can see less of the constellations from here,” Obi-Wan mused as he came to stand beside you.

“Light pollution,” you replied, remembering how clear the sky was when you slept under it during the campaign.

“Can we be alone for a bit?” he asked softly.

A breath of relief passed through your lips, “Yes, please. I need a moment.”

A small smile tugged at his lips as he nodded, offering you his arm. You wanted to laugh at the formality of it all as you slipped your arm into his.

“You followed me,” you murmured as the two of you started down a path towards the hedges.

“I’m always following you, darling. If you blaze so many trails without looking where they lead, then I have to,” he said with a small smile.

“You shouldn’t say such things,” your face burned at his comment. The two of you came to a stop next to a fountain. It was all perfect. The stars above, the hedges around, the faint music heard over the bubbling of the fountain. He was your prince and this was your fairy tale. Except it wasn’t. You knew it couldn’t be.

You settled on the edge of the fountain, taking the crown off entirely and holding it in your hands. “It’s so silly,” you murmured. “One circlet of precious metals and stones represents my station.” You tossed it into the fountain.

Obi-Wan’s eyes widened and he pulled up his sleeve to fish it out.

“Are you alright?” he asked, knitting his brow as he reached up to fix your crown on your head.

“Do you ever doubt your duty?” you asked him, turning to face him, to study him as he answered.

“I fight for freedom and peace,” he replied. “There can’t be a nobler cause than that.”

“What about love?” you asked softly.

“I suppose at the root of it all, I fight for love,” he admitted, looking at you as if in a new light. “Do you fight for love?”

You paused, drowning in the depths of his eyes. You fought for the kingdom that you so dearly loved, and now you found yourself willing to stop that fight when it came to the person that you loved.

Averting your gaze, you murmured, “No. Not always, at least. Sometimes I fight out of duty.” Like now, you thought, as you were fighting your feelings for the man in front of you.

“Where is this coming from?” he asked softly, tilting your chin up to look at him. His eyes searched yours as he looked for meaning.

You licked your lips, feeling your mouth go dry. Your cheeks burned under the scrutiny of his gaze.

There had always been a pull towards Obi-Wan Kenobi. It was a pull that made men follow him into uncertain situations. It was a pull that made conquered villages want to thank him. Now, that pull was making you want to leave your kingdom behind for him if that were the only way for you to be with him.

His gaze flicked to your lips as you leaned into his hand on your cheek, allowing yourself the comfort of his touch for the briefest of moments as you closed your eyes. In that moment, you could see it all: the two of you, together, happy and laughing arm in arm as you took on the world. A dream that could not be. His nose bumped yours and you pulled back.

“I... I can’t do this,” you breathed out, feeling like your lungs would collapse in on themselves. Getting up, you raced to get away, but a hand came around your arm to stop you.

You swallowed, looking up at the owner as his eyes pleaded with you. There was a fire there that threatened to consume. It spread through his body and into yours where you touched, licking up your arms and sending a wave of shock through your spine. Your eyes locked into each others and in that moment you made a decision.

Regardless of what happened after the dust settled in your kingdom, you wanted to know Obi-Wan in a way that only a few did.

Your hands slipped up into his hair as you pulled him into you, crashing your lips against his. His arms encircled you, pulling you flush against him as he kissed back with the same ferocity as he fought. You wanted to lose yourself in this moment, to hold onto it forever, but you knew it could not last. It was the nature of a moment. They were short, fleeting. To hold onto singular moments was to miss the grand scheme of life, but moments, too, were pivotal. You could see where things had changed between the two of you so very clearly now. In hindsight, it was, in fact, a gradual fall. A domino effect of hundreds of tiny moments that led to the two of you crashing together like two planets on an inevitable course of collision. You could only imagine what wreckage would be in its wake. Should people find out, you thought. So they just mustn’t find out. You pulled back, knowing that to continue to prolong this moment would only risk further exposure.

Obi-Wan’s eyes widened at the sudden retraction. The crown felt heavy on your head.

“Darling-” he started to say, reaching back for you.

You ran.

#obi-wan kenobi #obi-wan x reader #obi x reader #fem!reader

66 notes · View notes

webcricket · 5 years

Text

Rapture, Rupture

Characters: CastielXReader

Bat Out of Hell Lyric Prompt: #20 - “Show me I meant something.”

Word Count: 2610 (well, a drabble it ain’t)

Requested by: @morganas-pendragons

Warning: SPOILERS for 15X03 ahead! Erotica/adult content - sweet simple sexy times with a seraph on a sofa.

Summary: After Castiel stands up to Dean’s anger and misplaced blame and ultimately leaves the bunker feeling used, useless, and that no one truly cares, he seeks out the reader in order to feel a little less alone.

<<< >>>

“Jesus, Cas!” The sight of the angel standing on your front stoop when you swing the door open to confront the intruder who woke you with his midnight pacing on the porch, the loosely folded fingers held up in a fist protruding from his sleeve dithering between doubt of disturbing you and knocking on the door, has you jumping out of your skin and slamming a hand to your heart to keep it from bounding out into the night.

It’s been awhile since you headed out on your own, a while since you last stared into the startling (and currently startled) blue of his gaze. On first blush, you aren’t sure if he looks apologetic, or if that’s just his usual expression dewy from the light drizzle of rain dampening the darkness beyond the reach of the porch lamp.

He tucks his hands into his pockets, lets his eyes fall from your face to the softly flowing flannel robe, belt loosened so that the fabric plunges and parts between breasts covered by a thin cotton tank and your trembling fingers. His focus further follows the hem tracing downward from there to float the hidden curves of your hips.

It’s there, swinging in your free grip, he spots the sawed off shot gun and your well-worn go bag brimming with gear ripped open on the floor beyond - these, the hunting accoutrements you supposedly gave up when you left the life.

You don’t appear any less vibrant to him than when he dropped you off at this very door half a year ago and bid you ‘Goodbye’ because leaving is what you said you wanted - what you believed was right for you and who was he to protest what you thought was right by bringing his feelings into light when it was clear to him you would be safer here; safer, and happier.

“Cas-” You rein in the gravitational fall of his uncharacteristically open appreciation of your scantily clad form back to the general orbit of your searching eyes. You notice when he lifts his chin, the wet gathered on his lashes seems too freshly gravid with sorrow to have anything to do with the weather- “what happened? What’s wrong?” The concern catches in your throat, cauterizes the corners of eyes with tears.

“It’s-” his voice cracks with a weight of emotion that tells you what comes next is a lie- “nothing.”

It’s not like him to lie. Not to you. You might have left the boys, left the bunker and, figuring their angel was a Team Free Will package deal, didn’t try to persuade him to join you, but you and Cas, you have an understanding you can say anything to each other; even if you haven’t been able to unpack the extent of the fondness fostered in your hearts, it’s only because you each thought it best not to further complicate the complicated nature of this life by introducing love and upping the ante of fear and loss.

You’d all lost too much already to risk bringing love into the equation.

You click the safety on the shotgun and toss in on top of the yawning duffel inside the door. Stepping sideways, you usher him in to your humble abode with a sweep of the arm. “Come in, let’s get you dry and then you can tell to me some more about nothing.”

“You’re busy-” he shuffles a single boot forward; eyes flicking to your sleep-mussed hair, he wants to enter, but hesitates- “sleeping. I’ll come back in the morning.”

“I’m awake-” leaning over the threshold you haul him in by his coat lapels muttering- “now get your angelic ass in here.”

He allows you to lug him limply inside.

Slipping your fingertips under the coat’s collar, standing near enough to study his averted blues as you do so - the red rims, the hollowness sunk below, the uncharacteristic paleness of his flesh as if someone had drained the life out of him tells you all you need to know - it’s not what happened or what’s wrong, it’s who failed him, and what isn’t right. You’ve seen him like this before, and your heart aches in echo of his anguish.

Trying not to let the fact you’re pissed off at the douche with a capital D who hurt him roughen your touch, you push up and liberate the trench from his shoulders.

“Hey-” you gently cup a palm to his jaw, rub your thumb over the scratch of stubble there until he meets your eyes- “it’s just like old times, huh? You and me free to do whatever the hell we want with no Winchesters around to keep us in line.”

Not that you ever did anything beyond share a bed and bowl of popcorn while watching Netflix.

The smallest of smiles twitches his mouth at the memory. He relished those nights with you, watching you as you slept, the bunker silent save for the reassuring rhythm of your heart and breath.

“There’s my angel.” You flash your teeth in approval at the subtle sign of relief banishing some of the fretfulness from his features. You prod the pad of your thumb in the divot of his chin. “I’d make you some coffee, but I wasn’t expecting the company. I think there’s tea though-”

You twist to gambol off in the direction of the kitchen. The firm wrap of fingers encircling your wrist staves your momentum. You turn back to him, brow furrowed.

“It’s okay, I’m fine-” he slackens his grip- “I just came to talk.”

He follows the arched invitation of your glance toward a cozy living space and sits on the sofa.

You settle in beside him, drawing your feet beneath you and letting your bent legs spill into his lap.

His regard wanders the room to walls hung with cheery landscape paintings, to brightly colored throw pillows, to shelves lined with favored books and mementos, and to a scattering of photographs on the mantel, one of you two taken outside a motel in Indiana that also happened to be home to the World’s Largest Slinky displayed prominently front and center.

“It’s nice here. Peaceful,” he says; sighing long and low, he lets the atmosphere - and your proximity - cast a soothing shroud over the struggle of these last weeks. “It reminds me very much of your room. I mean, the room you used to … the room you used at the bunker. Only brighter.” Continuing to avoid the topic of why he’s here, he rambles on, “I would assume it’s brighter because of the windows … or it would be if it were daytime.”

After a self-conscious moment spent drowning the swell of further small talk he lays a warm hand on your knee, observes the way your skin blanches then reblooms redder beneath the weight of it.

The touch is intimate, but not unprecedented. He took his time becoming comfortable with when and how to show physical affection. With you it came easier than with others; and the connection he feels - the solid heat of flesh and bone and soul - blunts the sting of emptiness encroaching on his heart.

You cover his hand with your own. Leaning forward, you swipe a stray chestnut curl behind the shell of his ear. A wistful smile quirks your lips. “I don’t think you came here to comment on my choice of decor.”

He half-turns his head to peer at you, the gloss of his blues shine as a desolate sea in the dim lamplight. “I left.”

You tease your fingers through his and squeeze tight, encouraging him to go on.

The crux of the struggle - the piece of it that crushes him most - surges in deeply graveled syllables. “Dean is angry. I’ve never seen him like this. I tried so many times to reach him, and it’s clear no matter what it once meant, or what it still means to me, our friendship has become just another burden for him to bear.”

Your fingers tense; venting annoyance forces a sharp snort through your nose - this infuriatingly big-hearted idiot of an angel is still considering Dean’s feelings, and not his own, as the priority.

And Dean. You’re done making excuses for Dean! You get his anger. You get that it’s a defense mechanism, that he’s damaged and it’s a way for him to cope when he feels everything around him spiraling out of control. The anger is how he keeps moving; adrenaline lubricates his joints in the face of paralyzing fear.

Except anger isn’t an excuse to treat your family like shit. You’re all angry. You don’t all redirect that rage at the world and lash out at your loved ones and look for someone to blame when life hurts. It’s a huge part of why you left. You were sick and tired of watching Dean hurl his fists at the people who had his back, especially the angel.

You grasp at straws. Sam has always been able to temper his brother’s rage, to make amends. “What about Sam? Does he-”

“No. I made a choice. An impulse decision to kill a demon who betrayed us before something worse rose up to threaten the world. I forced Sam to make a sacrifice he shouldn’t have had to make. I can’t ask him to go up against Dean for my sake. He’s already lost so much. They have each other. That’s enough.” His chin swings like a the slowly stalling pendulum of a clock wanting winding.

“Cas, you’ve lost too. If you did what you thought was right, I trust you had no other choice.”

The seraph stills, Dean’s wrath having worked at him, raised clouds of doubt, and fueled the fire of regret set aflame in his consciousness into a smoldering sentiment of failure during the hours long drive to your door that made him second guess himself and actually begin to believe the blame belonged solely to him. “But I did. I could’ve walked away. We could have figured it out afterward. Together, like Dean said.”

“Like Dean said!” You lurch to your feet, shouting the statement through clenched teeth, first at the ceiling, then down at an angel awe struck by your outburst on his account, “And when did Dean become dictator? How many more lives would’ve been lost? How much more sacrifice? You did what had to be done. What any of us would’ve done with our backs against the wall.”

“Y/N-” wide-eyed and earnest, he reaches out to clasp your wrist; what little strength remains of his failing grace collects into fingertips endeavoring to calm you- “That’s kind of you to say, but-”

“No ‘buts,’ I’m not saying it to be kind. It’s true.” You recognize the electric pulse of angelic power tracing in tendrils along your veins from where he grips you. It has the pacifying affect he intended - your ire toward Dean incrementally dulls with every heartbeat.

His grasp goes lax as his grace weakens and ebbs. He returns the hand to his lap and looks at it resting uselessly beside the other. “I’m tired. Tired of fighting for the people I love only to fight with them when all is said and done.” His gaze lifts, earnestly piercing yours seeking the an answer. “What kind of life is that?”

Stooping, you frame his face with your fingers, splayed tips stretching to tickle his temples. “It’s just … life. It’s not fair. It never was and it never will be. We just have to keep going and hope for the best.”

Blues swirling in resignation snap shut.

“I know they’re just words, Cas,” you apologize for the disappointingly oracular answer.

“Regardless, I appreciate you saying them. I needed to hear it.” He flattens his hands over your smaller ones to peel them from his scruffy aspect. Lashes parting, he pauses, not for the first time, to squint at the lines and scars paving the palms and place the bare caress of a kiss upon each. He’s grateful to find the landscape of them isn’t altered; and after everything he’s been through, they are, perhaps, a pair he is less willing relinquish so easily this time without exploring to what ends those trails of fate lead.

The lingering of the look and tender devotion paid does not go unnoticed by you. “You could’ve called if that’s all the comfort you needed. What else do you need, angel?”

He continues to hold on; his focus shifts to your legs where your robe gapes to reveal a slope of thigh capped in a crescent of pink lace panty. There lies the promise of a passion he never felt worthy of acting on, and yet, he has heard your prayers - the walls against angelic perception erected by humans exist as barriers nearly as thin as that lace, and more permeable.

The oppressive pain of loneliness throttling his vessel’s racing heart craves connection. He squashes the impure thoughts through sheer will and self-deprecation at entertaining the possibility. “It’s stupid. Selfish.”

“You’re the least selfish person I know.” You shift so your knees knock against his, near enough that the still raised hands holding yours skim the supple flesh of your lower belly. “Tell me.”

“I just needed someone to-” the temptation to take the comfort you offer and the very scent of you overwhelms his senses; he starts, stops, and starts again- “need someone to-”

You slink your fingers through the halo of his hair and cup his jaw to compel his gaze - a blue blown almost to black by longing and seeped in tears - upward, “Someone to what, Cas?”

“Show me I meant something,” he sobs; lunging for your hips, he yanks you into his lap.

You straddle him with a small bounce, knees hitting the cushions as your lips crash; he silences the surprised squeak rising the rungs of your ribs to escape with the scrape of his tongue along the moist seam of your mouth. He’s already hard beneath you and here you half-thought he was diving in for a hug.

Frantic fingers rip at the thin cotton of your tank, unburdening the supple shape of breasts to bury his nose between and lay a smattering of sloppy open-mouthed kisses and Enochian praise upon the expanse of skin and upward to your neck.

He tears, too, at the fragile lace of your undies to expose the apex of your arousal. Threading a finger into your heat, he tests and teases at the walls fluttering around it in hunt for friction and fullness - the pike of calloused pleasure cultivates that coil of ecstasy from his caresses already coalescing in your belly.

A growl rattles the room as you fumble to free his belt and fly to return the favor. He lifts his hips to help you push down his pants; his vessel shudders when your fingers collar his cock through the material. The growl evolves into a groan of your name as you delve, finally, into the unfettered trove of his trousers to uncage him.

Kneading handfuls of your ass through the robe, he rocks against your soaked sex until you rise up on your knees, grip him by the base, and sink slowly onto him.

You roll with one another in rapture. As the desperation to unite gives way to a slow sensual swaying of bodies, small sighs moisten skin between kisses, and a sense of belonging - of being needed, and being exactly where you need to be - builds in so comforting a cadence, not of carnality, but of love, that neither of you hastens toward the rupturing of that bliss.

Castiel tag list: (Closed, if you’d like to be removed please let me know!) @jeepangel @sammiesamness @willowing-love @roxy-davenport @blueicevalkyrie @im-the-nerdiest-of-them-a11 @thesugargalaxy @bluetina-blog @dont-trust-humanity @afanofmanystuffs @honeybeetrash @bucky-thorin-winchester @superwholockz @tistai @wordstothewisereaders @gill-ons @mrswhozeewhatsis @marisayouass @stone-met @castiel-savvy18 @samualmortgrim @trexrambling @magnificent-mantle @kdfrqqg @xdifsx @mandilion76 @rockfairy @peaceloveancolor @unicorntrooper @anisolatedship @itsilvermorny @aditimukul @kudosia @goofynerd-67babylove @uninspirationalsonglyrics @gray-avidan @mishascupcake @mishapanicmeow @praisecastielamen @roseyhxnt @jessikared97 @let-the-imaginationflow @warriorqueen1991 @sebastianstanslefteyebrow @hisnameisboobear @kristendanwayne @fuschiarulerinthebluebox @coolpencilpie @jenabean75 @luciathewinchestergirl @morganas-pendragons @heyitscam99 @fangirl-and-stuff @selahbela @realgreglestrade @splendidcas @pointlesscasey @i-larb-spooderman @thewhiterabbit42 @thelostverse @castieliswatchingoverme @beccollie18 @dragonett8 @dixie-chick @jtownraindancer @carowinsthings @passionghost @ladyofletters67 @futureparent @gabbie7-11 @myfandomlife-blog @dreamerkim @shamelesslydean @earthtokace @neaeri @justanormalangel @lone-loba @supernaturalymarvel @lilrubixx @wings-and-halo @x-cassiopeia @thehoneybeecastielfollows @musiclovinchic93 @81mysteriouslyme @the-bottom-of-the-abyss @jaylarkson @pixiedusts @spookysculderfiles @laqueus-ludovicus @missjenniferb @lexininja @jessiekay2010 @skrratata @rhiannonj79 @calicat79

#castiel x reader #castiel imagine #castiel x you #castiel smut #spn x reader #castiel #castielxreader #castielxyou #cas x reader #cas x you #reader x castiel #you x castiel #castiel fanfic #castiel fanfiction #fic request #cricket writes cas

275 notes · View notes

dust-broken-berry · 3 years

Text

Part 6 here (Will be in two posts)

Part 6: Special Revenge

Blue was sitting in Muffet’s at the bar, waiting for Ink to show up.

It was a sunday so the place was closed.

“So you’re going to be fighting ey?”

“Well ya I guess”

“Will you maybe try to listen to these odd monsters?”

“Probably not”

“You never know though, it may be just as important to you as it is for them.”

“Maybe… But I don’t know if I can listen though, after what happened.”

“I understand, just don’t break anything or you’re gonna have to pay for it. Everyone else had to.”

“Everyone else?”

“Ya everyone else that used to start bar fights, hehe I remember you used to storm in here and demand they stop. You’d say something like ‘the magnificent Sans orders you to stop fighting.’”

Blue blushed, feeling embarrassed

“M-Muffet I was just some kid back then.”

“Hahaha I know, I know”

“Anyways...I’ll try not to break anything, Alphy’s will kill me if I do.”

Blue thought about it and asked-

“Why hasn’t Alphy’s destroyed this place yet.”

“She gets free drinks, if she didn’t this place would probably just be trash on the ground.”

“Myehe ya I’d believe it”

Blue said, as Muffet remembered something she had for him.

“Oh Blue, I have something for you.”

“Really?”

“Ya hold on”

Muffet said as she pulled something out from behind the counter.

It was a fancy looking vodka she placed on the table.

“Well less for you and more for your ‘friend’.”

“Why?”

“Well let’s just say a while back when you were still acquainted with Ink. I saw him and maybe one or two more of them take a few drinks from this.”

“Ya ok, but I’m not trying to”

“Oh and I also forgot to mention that this is a very special bottle of vodka, and I recommend you don’t drink from it.”

Blue was a bit nervous and asked Muffet.

“What did you put in that?”

“Let’s just say that it’ll make your little confrontation easier, to say the least.”

“Well...ok thanks Muffet”

“You’re welcome Blue, and after everything that happened I think you deserve this.”

“Thanks…”

“But really don-”

“I know Muffet, I don’t drink you know that.”

“Maybe but you never know things change.”

“You can say that twice.”

Blue said looking over at the clock, it was almost time. Muffet looked over, realised this too, and actually looked outside, saying-

“That appears to be them, I’ll be in the back.”

“Oh uh ok, and thanks again”

“Welcome Blue”

Muffet said, one last time before going to the back room.

Blue then turned to Dust panicky and said-

“Dust I don’t know if I can do this.”

“Yes you can Blue, besides…”

Dust stuck his head through the wall saying-

“They’re right outside.”

Blue was a bit surprised to hear the word ‘they’re’ instead of ‘he’. It’s not like he didn’t expect Ink to bring reinforcements, but the fact that he would stoop so low, to say alone and then bring others...

Blue tried his best to shrug that fact off, he took a deep breath and said-

“Ok Dust let’s do this”

“Ya...and you can do this Blue”

Blue sat down and they both waited for what felt like years...when in reality it was more like two minutes.

The door opened and Ink, Cross, and Dream walked in. Blue said-

“I didn’t know that alone meant bring friends, if I did I could have easily obliged.”

“I didn’t need more of you…”

“Myehe ya like any of them are really like me.”

Blue said, chuckling a bit afterwards.

Dream looked at the table and saw the bottle, prompting him to ask-

“Blue since when did you drink?”

“I...I don’t, but it helps for some at least wouldn’t you agree?”

Dream stayed silent. So Blue decided to ask-

“How about you tell me why I am here?”

“That should be odvis”

Cross growled, again making Blue laugh as he said-

“Then tell me Cross, what’s so obvious that you would invite me to talk, now?”

“Ha, what do you think”

Cross said angrily, Blue’s grin stuck to his face still. Ink realising that this was going nowhere asked-

“Well we first wanted to see...if you were really serious about leaving...if you had a side, to start lightly.”

Ink said anxiously as he sat down in front of Blue, with Cross and Dream on either side of him. Blue’s mischievous grin turned to one of anger, and spite as he cackled looking down at the floor.

“Hm, well let’s see, I really may have to think about this one, Not!”

Blue yelled snapping his head back up as he finished his sentence, Ink just stayed silent as he continued-

“Let’s see...why was it such a difficult decision. Maybe...just maybe because making my life a living hell wasn’t enough! Maybe because you had to ruin to feel satisfied...so tell me? Are you satisfied Ink? Are you happy with what you’ve done? What you’ve made... Of me?”

“Blue that’s not what it-”

“Then what is it? Tell me what is it!?”

Blue screamed, cutting off Ink. He was shaking his anger, almost consuming all of his self control. But then, again he smiled chuckling a bit, he was fully aware that he was losing it. He still continued though-

“But...of course there are other very, very, riveting reasons that I think this way. Maybe you want to hear the most compelling one?”

They were all just quiet, so Blue took the hint and continued.

“This one isn’t so bad for me, because in my new favored group I got a new position.”

“A new position?”

Cross asked confused, Blue answered-

“Yes a new position, it’s nothing special or anything really but I guess you could call it a bossy kind of position.”

Ink, Cross, and Dream were shocked as Blue just grinned. Ink had to ask-

“You’re..you’re trying to lead those things?”

“I’m not trying, I am. So I’m going to say this now, don’t go trying to ask me for peace and change because it’s not going to happen!”

Blue screamed, just making Ink grumble-

“Erg…”

“Anymore questions while we’re at it?”

Blue snarled, there was a brief moment of silence before Ink asked-

“Do you know why It picked you?”

“Yes...I do, he came and told me.”

Blue said noticing Ink and Cross were pouring themselves a drink, they were uncomfortable, and obviously on edge. Ink again was the one to ask-

“So he visited you as well?..”

“Yes, but I had no clue that he was going to see you.”

Blue answered, beginning to bounce his leg, he was getting antsy. He kept talking anyways-

“My guess is you know just as much as I do?”

“Hopefully…”

Ink said unsure, followed by Blue saying-

“Well when he visited me...I did learn some new things I could do, that I will show you shortly.”

“Shortly?”

Dream asked nervously, again Blue answered-

“Yes, very shortly I just need to tell you one more thing.”

“...Ok”

Ink said nervously, Blue kept talking-

“Let me just say this, the one you and everyone else thought was gone… Is far from it, he is very much still here. That’s it.”

“Huh that’s it!? What do you mean that’s it, what are you gonna do now!?”

Cross asked, followed by Blue saying-

“You know when I said I could do something new? Well that’s what I’m going to do. I’ve waited long enough, it’s time and I. Am. Tired of talking.”

Blue growled, as a small click could be heard behind Ink. The three turned around to see that the door had been locked. They turned back to see Blue smiling, malaise painted all over his face.

“That shouldn’t be a problem really, where we’re going there won’t be any exit’s.”

Blue magic began to seep out of Blue’s eyes the room disappeared into an empty darkness. Ink, Cross, and Dream were all scared and nervous but tried their best to hide it. Again Blue just smiled.

“And I think it’s about time you met someone.”

Blue said, cackling afterwards as a patch of blue magic began to summon Dust.

The other three were shocked and surprised but before they knew it the fighting started and just as quickly as it started it was over. With Blue leaving the empty space and the restaurant… While the others lay there injured, bleeding, and not moving for the time being.

Dream was the first to get up surprisingly, having taken the least amount of damage. He rubbed his aching head. He looked down and saw that most of his body was injured. He looked up at Cross and Ink...they looked a lot worse. Cross’s code though had obviously been healing him, because he was the second to wake up and a few seconds later Ink woke up flinching as he did.

Dream stood up on shaky legs and went over to Cross.

“Are you feeling ok?”

“Ok enough…”

Cross said, looking up at Dream. He realised that Dream took a lot less damage then him and Ink, and said-

“You seem a lot more ok right now, if I’m being honest…”

“Ya I realised that to…”

“You saw him hesitate with you...right?”

Ink added sitting up a bit leaning on the wall. Dream sighed and answered-

“Ya...I did…”

“He...probably still sees you as a friend...a good monster…”

Ink said, Dream felt uncomfortable and said-

“Maybe…”

Dream said standing up, helping up both Cross and Ink. Cross asked-

“Was anyone else having trouble using their magic?”

“No?”

Dream said, but Ink nodded saying-

“Yes actually, my magic was all messed up.”

They heard a little snicker, and looked over in time to see a door closing from behind the bar. All the pieces clicked as they saw this. Cross grumbled-

“Bitch”

“Watch it Cross!”

Dream yelled, Ink laughed only to feel pain then stop. He then said-

“We should go…”

“Ya probably a good idea…”

Cross said, as Ink opened a portal back to their base. The three walked on through and they were greeted by Red who asked-

“Geez what happened to you guys?”

“What does it look like?”

Ink asked a bit annoyed, Red chuckled a bit, and said-

“Ya that was a dumb question, I’ll go get Error.”

Red left to go get Error, Ink began to heal himself, and help Cross and Dream Error, Red, and Sans, walked back into the room. Error was surprised to say the least and said-

“Jesus you guys did get beat up pretty bad.”

“At this point it’s reasonable… But we did learn that Blue can somehow bring Dust back… Which will probably make what he’s about to go through easier.…”

Ink said followed by Sans asking-

“Ok wait, lets stop at about and go back to the fact that Blue can bring Dust back for miny fights?”

Ink then tried his best to explain what they had learned.

Error sighed and asked-

“So...Blue’s getting closer to the truth?”

“Unfortunately he is…”

Ink said, sighing afterwards. Everyone else was confused about what they were talking about, so Dream asked-

“What do you mean he’s learning the truth?..”

Ink and Error both sulked, Dream appeared worried and said-

“What didn’t you two tell us?..”

Error just sighed and said-

“Dream if what we’re thinking is correct, then you won’t have to wait long to find out.”

“Why can’t you just tell us now?”

“Dream it isn’t important right and besides Error’s right...you’re probably not going to have to wait long anyways…”

Ink said, as it slowly went quiet. It was eerily quiet, then Red broke the silence-

“So...since you’re not gonna tell us jack about that. How about you tell us what’ll be happening soon?”

“Oh ya that, well I was more talking to myself about that. It really isn’t that important right now, unless you’re really interested in it.”

“Well could it be important?”

Cross asked, making Ink actually have to think about it. When he did he had thought that made him shutter. He then said-

“I mean...maybe...but probably not.”

“Ink if it could be important then sharing it now would be a good idea.”

Error said, making Ink sigh-

“Ok, well...Blue’s having a baby…”

They were surprised but then again they were also confused. They didn’t know why or how this could be important in any way. So Cross asked-

“That’s nice for Blue...but how-”

“This baby...will most have Dust’s and Blue’s magic..and...well.”

Dream thought and realised something, and nervously asked-

“Wait, do you t-think that It’s gonna try and curse that baby!?”

“It’s a hunch and a bad one, I admit it. But still it’s another perfect scenario for It to take advantage of.”

“Do you really think he’ll do that?”

Error asked nervously, Ink responded-

“Sadly ya...but it’s not like we’ll be able to do anything. Blue is powerful...if it does happen. He should be able to handle it himself.”

They stood there silently, Ink said that so bluntly...it was just surprising. Even though it was dangerous and reckless for the baby, no one else would admit that it was a likely possibility.

In the other room PJ sat there in silence, and listened to what Ink had said...what he said so uncaringly in the end. The thought of something like that happening to a child made him cry. He had his Mom’s morals and to hear Ink say that and sound like he barely cared made it hurt even more.

“I...I can’t…”

PJ couldn’t formulate words to describe what he was thinking and feeling then. He didn’t want to say or think it but...It was probably going to go after that baby. He wiped the tears from his eyes but more kept falling down, taking the place of the ones that were wiped away.

“I need to *Hic* talk to someone…”

PJ took out his phone and started texting Fresh (In this comic Fresh is not Error’s brother and is currently 18.)

“Hey Mr. Fresh?”

It took a few seconds but-

“You don’t have to call me Mr. Fresh...I’m only two years older than you and it makes me sound like your science teacher or something.”

PJ laughed, knowing that Fresh would say something like that.

“Well that at least put me in a good mood.”

“What’s wrong?”

PJ didn’t know what to tell him, so he only explained what he just heard.

“Geez man no wonder you’re not feeling good.”

“Ya and I needed to talk to someone, and you always cheer me up.”

PJ waited for a response.

“Wait that’s it!?!?!?”

PJ laughed again

“Why do you want there to be another reason?”

“Ya maybe the I am your boyfriend reason!”

PJ and Fresh started dating about two years ago when Fresh was still in highschool.

“Well I guess that could be part of it.

“Only part of it…”

“Oh come on don’t do that I was just kidding.”

“WELL IT’S NOT FUNNY!”

PJ laughed some more

“Well anyways do you just want to come over and talk about it? You’re obviously pretty upset.”

“Ya ok I will”

“Ok see ya in a bit?”

“See you then”

PJ sent that last message then put his phone in his pocket. He wiped his eyes one last time with his sleeve then left his room.

“Hey mom, dad, I’m going to a friends house.”

By the time PJ walked out there Ink, Cross, and Dream were all fixed up. Error said-

“Ok you know I trust you”

“Me too, just text me if you end up staying the night, ok Jammy?”

Ink said, a bit nervous. But PJ just smiled and said.

“Ok love you dad, love you mom, bye”

And with that PJ went off to go see Fresh, he walked for a while and then got to Fresh’s house with no problems, he knocked.

“Hello Fresh?”

PJ then heard Fresh shout “Shit!”, and some things crashing around. PJ slowly opened the door to see if Fresh was ok.

“Uh Fresh are you ok?”

“Uh…”

PJ walked in to see Fresh tripped, and fell next to the table with his leg stuck. He laughed-

“Pfhahaha, Fresh what did you do?”

“Please just help…”

Fresh was clearly embarrassed

“I don’t know I like feeling tall”

“PJ that’s not funny!”

PJ again laughed and helped Fresh up, he asked-

“What were you trying to do?’

“Well you were coming over so I thought that I would clean up, ya know.”

“Fresh you don’t need to do that, it's just me.”

“Trust me, ya don’t wanna see this place when I don’t try and clean it…”

“Ok I’ll take your word for it”

“Anyways...I did invite you over to talk to you cause you seemed sad… I know what you heard was bad but why were you so upset?”

Fresh asked as he and PJ sat on the couch.

“Well...one reason is the baby Blue is having will be my half brothers, half brothers…”

“That’s a lot of half bro’s. But I see why you would be worried, he is your brother.”

“Ya I doubt he even knows that Blue is pregnant, let alone the fact that It exists.”

“Well I understand why you’re sad.”

PJ went quiet for a second, prompting Fresh to ask-

“What is it? Is there something else?”

“Kinda…”

Again he went silent

“You don’t need to tell me. I would just like to know cause I care about you.”

PJ just smiled and chuckled a bit.

“Hehe...how could I get so lucky to have someone like you…”

Fresh realised that PJ was trying to change the subject, so he played along.

#undertale #fanfic #dustberry

1 note · View note

mywelshprincecharming · 7 years

Text

Coming Home l Taron Egerton Imagine

From an imagine request.

He’s almost back.

Late nights of texting, Snapchat wars, and Facetiming were about to temporarily end. Taron’s finished filming his next project, which means he’ll be home for the next two weeks.

And I. Can’t. Wait.

It’ll be two weeks of the way it used to be: nights out at the bar, dinner and trivia nights with our families, movie marathons with his mates. My mum’s already coordinated with his for his welcome home party tonight.

My job was to get the cake. This would be the first time he’d be allowed to have sweets after his strict diet for his project, so we went all out: death by chocolate with caramel drizzle. I wouldn’t be surprised if he ate the whole thing.

And it was on my way back from work. So as I stand in the shop, waiting for the cashier to bring out the white cardboard box with the biggest cake I’ll ever order, I clutch the card I’d written for him.

It’s stupid. I shouldn’t have written it at all, but I felt like getting him a welcome home gift. Books would have been obvious and I’m pretty sure he has more movies than he’ll ever watch. Besides, reunions are about telling people how you really feel, right?

The blonde behind the counter bobs back and forth, pulling together ribbons and a plastic bag to help carry the box out. The cake looks amazing. Taron’s going to love it.

I fiddle with the corners and let my fingertips prick the points. I shouldn’t give it to him, I should give it to him.

I tried to tell him once how I really felt, ages ago, and I lost my nerve. He went off to film different projects and I regretted waiting. I’d wished I’d written it down last time, so I thought the card would be better this time around. I had to tell him before he went on to his next project. I don’t know if I’ll ever get the chance again.

And what’s the worst that can happen, right? He doesn’t feel the same way, I lose my best friend since childhood, we can’t even make small talk afterward because its too awkward?

I continue to toy with the envelope as the girl wraps the ribbon around the box. The pin pad prompts me for my credit card.

“I thought this was prepaid?” I ask as she continues her work.

“We use the card on file to hold the order, not to pay for it.” She smiles at me but it doesn’t touch her eyes. “The manager explained that over the phone...”

“So you can’t use the information to charge the card?”

“Not without the cardholder present.” Her smile is sickeningly sweet now.

“Fine.” I know I’ll sort this out later. I dig for my card in my purse.

“You didn’t switch to a smaller bag?” A familiar voice says behind me.

“Not yet, I’m waiting for...” I look up and see Taron’s cheeky grin. “Damn it, you’re early!”

I pull him in for a hug. He laughs as he crushes me.

“Look at you!”

“Look at you!” He can’t stop smiling and neither can I.

“You got highlights? What on earth were you thinking?”

“I thought I’d try something different.”

“It’s different. Not bad. I didn’t think you’d actually go through with it.”

“I talked myself out of it twice. But once they started, it was too late to go back.” My fingers fall to my sides and I drop the card.

“Miss, are you going to finish your transaction?”

I turn and the girl’s smile is gone.

“All right, one moment. Sorry, we weren’t expecting you for a couple more hours.”

“I got an earlier flight. Thought I’d surprise the family.” He steps forward. “Nope, I’ve got this.”

“You don’t have to do that!”

He swipes his card. “Too late. It’s done.” He looks into the top of the box. “Is that for me?”

I nod sheepishly. “Part of your surprise.”

“How many people are coming? This is enough cake for like, thirty people!”

“Everybody’s coming. It’s basically a reunion at this point.”

“Sign this and you’re all set.” The girl slides the paper receipt across the counter and hands him the bag with the cake.

“Done and done.” He scribbles quickly and snatches the handles. “Now, I want to hear everything I haven’t already. And don’t hold back either because I’ll know.”

“What was the last thing I told you?”

“Hang on,” he pulls out his phone. “Your holiday plans are bust because your boss changed your schedule last minute.”

“Yes, and they still are.” He doesn’t look up. “I was planning on spending the week in...”

He stoops down and picks up the card. “This has my name on it. Did you write this?”

My cheeks turn hot before I can think of something to say.

“Well, that answers it. Can I read it?”

“Not in front of me.”

“Why? Some embarrassing secret?” His cheeky grin comes back. I don’t answer. “I’m only teasing.”

“I shouldn’t have written that.”

He gives me an odd look and opens it. “Fine, I’ll read, you look away. Come on.”

We walk out and he starts the first sentence. I look everywhere but at him. I have to think of a way out of this. It’s a prank, a joke, welcome home sentiments took the wrong way. Think, think, think.

“Is this how you feel?” Taron’s voice gets low. “Like this is really how you feel?”

Words fail me. I can’t move. If it was possible to die of embarrassment, I’d probably drop dead on the sidewalk right now.

“I mean, don’t get me wrong...” Here it comes. My worst fear.

“I should have told you earlier.” I blurt out. “I just didn’t know when, or how, or if I should.”

“Yeah.” He looks at the card for a moment, then at me. “You should have told me a long time ago.”

“I’m sorry, this is awkward.” It’s time for damage control.

“No. Honestly, I’m glad.” He smiles. “I feel the same way.”

#taron egerton #taron egerton imagine #imagines #taron imagine #taron egerton imagines #taron imagines

623 notes · View notes