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inukag-archive · 3 years

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Hello! I’m looking for recommendations for a particular trope/genre: Feudal Era AU as @superpixie42 would say. Fics that are Canon-era (Inuyasha-world without Inuyasha plot) but are not quite canon-divergent or fix-it? I’m thinking along the lines of Out of The Woods (Miss_Dyana), Kintsugi, If We Fall Anyway (both Evilillusions), for example. Any other genre/rating is good. Thank you! 💓

Hey @anisaanisa, it's no secret this is one of Mod Pixie's favorite AUs, so thank you for the chance to put this one together!

Shelter by @lavendertwilight89 (E)

Summary: Song fic inspired Stuck with You and Shelter. Inuyasha has been alone most of his life and one moonless night he gets caught up with a young priestess. She saves him and he, in return, helps her. What he doesn't realize is, this priestess holds a lot of secrets which may or may not cost both of them their lives...

Demon Nature by @shardetector (E)

Summary: He spoke low and gently, although his voice was gruff with his demon still so close to the surface, “You saved me wench, now I’ll repay the favor.” With that, his muscles bunched in his legs as he sprung up and out of the well, a red blur in the night as he made his way through the forest to his destination. His precious cargo held safely to his chest, as he raced to save her with his demonic speed.

there's no place (for us/like home) by guardianKarenterrier (G)

Summary: Slowly, excruciatingly slowly, Inuyasha starts to creep closer to the fire at night. Now that he's not so injured, he's begun to vanish into the woods and come back to throw down rabbits and once a badger at the side of the hut, and Kagome hasn't had to worry about finding enough to eat as the air starts to turn colder. He hardly ever talks to them, or at all, and he won't come close enough to touch- he never comes as close as he had that first day again, but he stays. She's not sure why he stays, but she's glad that he does.

Comfort Food by @splendentgoddess (E)

Summary: Feudal AU one-shot. An ex-miko-in-training stumbles upon a seemingly human man alone in the woods during the moonless night. He seems all alone in the world - just like her. Goodness, when was the last time he had a decent meal?

Half-Breed’s Wife by @gypsin (M)

Summary: On the night of the new moon, a runaway girl stumbles into Inuyasha's life. Little did he realize then what he would be undertaking by saving her. But when Kagome has nowhere else to go will he leave her to her fate Or will he rise to the occasion? And what will the humans think?

Your Lying Smile by @dawnrider (M)

Summary: A beautiful day by the river quickly takes a turn, taking control of her life completely out of Kagome's hands. Her "rescuer" becomes something else entirely before she can get a word in edgewise. A Feudal-esue AU

We Are Family by @theladyofthewest (T)

Summary: Imagine a world in which the Inu No Taisho lived to raise his sons together, as brothers. Inuyasha never had to learn to survive on his own, he never met Kikyo, never heard of the Shikon Jewel. Now imagine if Kagome fell into this world instead of the one she did in canon. Imagine if she and Inuyasha had ... parental supervision.

Oblivion @meggz0rz (M)

Summary: Feudal-era Japan. A war to the death between youkai and humankind. Kagome, rebellious daughter of a noble family, is not about to let her grandfather sacrifice himself in battle. So she takes his place, dressed as a boy and ready to fight to survive. But in love and war, things are rarely as they seem, and there is a spy in the army ranks who just might be Kagome's downfall...

Everybody Wants To Be An Inuyoukai by @superpixie42 (T)

Summary: A birthday one-shot for kstewdeux very vaguely based on the plot of the Aristocats. When Kagome, newly widowed with a newborn son, is named the heir of her mother-in-law's enormous estate things suddenly go from bad to worse. She's drugged, kidnaped, and left for dead on the side of the road. With the help of some unexpected new friends, Kagome finds herself questioning: does she even want to make it back home?

The Shogun’s Daughter by @shnuggletea (E)

Summary: Kagome's father passed away when she was just a child but his Shogun status still makes her a valuable bride to a Lord of lands that border their village. Lord Inuyasha Tashio is pushed by the council into marriage, assured his new bride was an excellent choice. All their fears and anxiety are amplified when they meet.

Timeless and Forbidden Love by lunalibro (M)

Summary: Once, a long long time ago in Japan, demons and other horrid monsters out of nightmares roamed the lands. Wars were never-ending, famine, death and bloodshed abound. Admist this chaos, there lived a great priestess named Midoriko who was renowned throughout for not only her incredible power and fighting prowess, but also for ethereal beauty. She defeated countless demons and staved off many dark evils as the protector of humankind. Eventually, Midoriko fell in love and birthed twin daughters. The eldest was named Kikyo and the youngest was named Kagome, While alike in looks, the sisters were complete opposites. Naturally, these girls inherited their mother’s immense powers. From a young age, Midoriko trained them in combat and in the spiritual arts. The sisters grew in strength and looks. However, Kikyo’s powers had matured far greater than that of her sister’s. Midoriko decided Kikyo shall be the one to take her place as the new protector of Musashi. From then on, Kagome would find herself living in her sister’s shadow. Maybe with the help of a young half-demon named InuYasha, Kagome could realize her worth and possibly fall in love in the process. A forbidden love that will last throughout time.

Beauty and the Hanyou by mishelledor23 (M)

Summary: Inspired by Beauty and the Beast, but Inuyasha style! The terrible half-demon prince Inuyasha is under a fifty-year old curse that keeps him trapped inside his castle. Can Kagome, the reluctant miko-in-training become his friend? Maybe even his love? InuXKag, MirXSan. Lemons and language in later chapters!

For Better or Worse by Anime Wildfire

Summary: Kagome, priestess in training, turns her life upside down when she saves the life of the half demon Inuyasha… and accidentally finds herself bound to him via pesky subjugation beads. This is not how she thought her day- or her life- was going to go.

By the Match, Not the Flame by @goshinote (M)

Summary: Inuyasha is a hellbent hanyo on a mission for revenge. Kagome is a wanted miko on the run. Their intentions align in more ways than one, but secrets abound between them as they partner up during their travels. With an inevitable and impending betrayal looming over them, the pressure rises with every day they spend moving closer to the enemy’s clutches.

A Private Affair by JeremyMarsh (T)

Summary: During a simple patrol operation, Inuyasha, a general in a war between demons and humans that has been going on for two years now, goes all the way across enemy territory to reach the village where his betrothed lived before the conflict broke out. Here he is discovered by her younger sister who intentionally reveals something to him that she shouldn't have.

Shocked, Inuyasha decides to embark on a new and dangerous mission that could cost him his life or worse.

Koi no Yokan by @keichanz (E)

Summary: Koi no Yokan: The feeling when you meet someone that you’re bound to fall in love.

A prince discovering a deeper meaning to seemingly random hordes of bloodthirsty demons. A young woman unwillingly sold to a brothel by uncaring relatives, frightened and alone. How could these two circumstances possibly be related?

We are also including the works Anisa mentioned in the ask for those who are unfamiliar

Out of the Woods by @dyaz-stories

Summary: After the murder of Kikyo, the local priestess, the villagers start leaving offerings to the forest's god, who they think they've angered. Kagome, called to the village to replace her cousin, finds out, too late, just how far they're willing to go when they use her as the month's sacrifice. She decides not to go down without a fight — except that, instead of an angry god, she finds herself faced with a hungry half-demon, who's very annoyed he won't be getting a food offering for the month. “What the fuck are you doing here? Where’s my food?” “Oh I’m sorry, am I not a sacrifice satisfying enough?”

Kinstugi by @soliska

Summary: AU. Failing to be chosen as her village's miko, Kagome had resigned herself to a humble life. An unexpected summons returns her to the city where she's forced to reconcile the taught virtues and the spiralling, warped reality created by those that abuse their power. She holds the key to repairing the fracture between humans and youkai, and the freedom of her new hanyou friend.

If We Fall Anyway by @soliska

Summary: What if the shikon jewel didn’t exist and Naraku never came to be? What if Kagome fell down the well anyway and met a gruff, young inu-hanyou. Would they still become friends? What would be their story? A tale told in snippets.

#inukag archive #feudal au #inuyasha #inuyasha fanfic #inukag fanfic #fic rec #anisaanisa

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strunmah-mah · 2 years

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I hate comic books, I love comic properties, but I hate comic books.

Comic properties have such wonderful creative potential. These are properties that are willing to just go there and be weird and be themselves push boundaries, ya know. But the comics they’re based on can be such a slog to get through.

I grew up on TMNT (2003). I adore that version of the turtles. When I got older I decided to branch out and try reading the IDW run of the Teenage Mutant Ninja turtles. I was four issues in when they had a foot not in one of the panels *Want to know what these characters are talking about? Go read the Donatello Miniseries! It was a brand new continuity, what do you mean I already have to do homework for it by issue 4? I dropped it on the spot. If I had missed that what else could I have missed? I don’t enjoy doing homework for my hobbies.

When the MCU started to get big. I was one of many who became a Loki fangirl. And about that same time Marvel decided to do a Loki solo series. Loki: Agent of Asgard. It was good and I loved it. But around that time Marvel also did a continuity reboot, where they merged their main (616) universe with the Ultimates continuity that way the publishers only had to make stories for one universe and everything was supposed to be staring from scratch as an easy jump in point for new readers. Except some characters were to be able to remember their old universes and Loki was supposed to be one of them.

This confused me. Why would do a continuity reset but have select characters remember? As a reader, how were you supposed to know which characters did or did not remember their old universe. It was weird, but I rolled with it. Loki had just undergone massive character arc and I was glad he wasn’t getting erased. He was also dragging his new best friend, Verity Willis (a character original to his solo run and one of the best things about it) into the new universe with him. So I picked up The Might Thor #1, the next series Loki was supposed to appear in, and started reading.

It sucked. Despite the reset the new Thor run started right where the previous run had left off. In the middle of political shenanigans with characters I had never heard of before. I had no idea what was happening, but I hung on for Loki. In Loki’s solo run he had become something of a neutral figure verging on heroic with some new powers to boot. And I was curious to see how he would team up with Jane Foster as Thor. So imagine my immense disappointment when Loki showed up as a full blown villain. All of his character development gone, Verity Willis erased. But they kept his final look from his solo run and some of his new powers. It felt like a betrayal and I dropped the run.

I enjoyed the movie Batman: Under The Red Hood. I got attached to Jason Todd, So I wanted to read his solo runs. Lost Days was very good, Talia as a mentor figure to Jason was great, right until the last issue where the characters went fro mother/son to jumping into bed together. It was weird gross and uncomfortable. So I picked up Red Hood and the Outlaws the new 52 run. That teamup felt like someone picked a bunch of names out of a hat and said “let’s right about them.” I couldn’t figure out why they stuck together as a team when at least one of them ways always running off and doming something on their own. A Jason Todd who says you shouldn’t murder child traffickers and slavers in not my Jason Todd. And there was something wildly wrong with Starfire’s character too. Some of those issues were physically exhausting to get through.

Again and again this happens. Christopher Nolan’s batman trilogy? Great! Wayne family Adventures? Awesome! Batman titled comic runs be it solo or team up. Batman the character is the worst part of those.

My sister and I watched Transformers Prime together It was our bonding activity for a while. She decided she wanted to read some of the Transformer Comics too. Except the series she picked and liked kept changing it’s title at random and she couldn’t keep track of what issue to buy.

How come comic based cartoons and movies can be so good? But the comics they are based on can be such pains?

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potter-imagines · 3 years

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Pre-Game Rituals (Fred Weasley)

Request: Hiya!! I was wondering if you could do an imagine with Fred. Where Ginny kind of idolises her like at hogwarts she’s always goes up to the reader and asks if she can do her hair for quidditch practice or something...

Pairing: Fred Weasley x Reader

Warnings: None

Word Count: 4.3k

The common room was dead with activity for a Saturday, although that was in large part due to the anticipated match up between Gryffindor and Slytherin tonight. You loved attending Quidditch games, especially seeing as most of your friends were on the Gryffindor team and you got to cheer them on alongside Hermione. Getting to see your boyfriend knocking opponents around and acting as a human bowling ball was an obvious plus as well. Before most games, your boyfriend would coin you into a pre-game ritual, which happened to be a nap. He claimed these snooze sessions next to you gave him his energy to play but, you’d seen him take his O.W.L.s on two hours of sleep and a ‘stay-awake’ creation him and his twin brewed up. Cuddled up in bed sounded like a blissful dream to you on any given occasion but currently, you were in the middle of another event. Not only did you have a pre-game ritual with your boyfriend, you also had one with his little sister who was on the team as well. A few hours to the start of every Gryffindor match, Ginerva Weasley goes prancing around the castle with her hairbrush in hand, searching for you and today was no different.

Your fingers brushed through the ginger locks as you separated the left half of Ginny’s hair into three parts. The silk like strands slipped through your parted fingers as you detangled the frizzed knots. Ginny’s hair was by far the most beautiful you had seen so you hardly turned down her request when she’d ask you to braid her hair. Her deep red hair mixed with auburn tones and long wisps was a unique find outside Hogwarts. Having the Weasley siblings around meant you saw a head of ginger around nearly every corner. In the Muggle world though, you had only passed a few with hair that resembled theirs.

However in those sightings, you never saw a single person whose hair was as fiery and bold as Ginny’s. There were times Ginny despised the color as it made her stick out like a sore thumb and put no mystery in identifying her. Everyone knew on sight that she was a Weasley. To you, she felt the flaming shade complimented Ginny, as well as her personality, to perfection. The youngest Weasley differed immensely from her siblings. Not only in terms of gender, personality as well. It could be argued she was the bravest of the bunch. Already faster on the Quidditch pitch than her older brother Ron, and possibly sneakier than her older twin brothers, Fred and George.

With a small pull, you began to braid from the top of Ginny’s head. You raked in a new strand of hair after every weave. Ginny’s hair was not only long but thick and heavy in weight. It always took a bit more force and harsh knotting to make sure the braids actually stuck, especially seeing as she’d be flying like the wind in a few hours, she needed them tight.

Ginny Weasley sat lazily in a criss-cross style shoulders hunched forward. It was unusual for her not to be talking your ear off in these moments. Ginny always had a story to share, a secret to tell, or an embarrassing memory of her brothers to spill. There was yet to come a day where she ran out of cringe worthy moments of your boyfriend, and her brother, Fred, to leak. In those countless hair sessions, a friendship outside your connection to Ginny through Fred formed. Within a month of hanging out with the youngest Weasley, you sincerely considered her to be a close friend. Between the endless laughter and feistiness of Ginny, a strong friendship grew. You could tell something was off but with Ginny, it was better to give her time to come around and at least open up a bit before you questioned her.

That moment seemed to be approaching as the bottom section of the braid fell from your grasp as Ginny moved her frame abruptly. Her head falling to face the floor caused your hold in her hair to grab her body back a bit. Resting your hand on her shoulder, you leaned her back so she was up snug against the bottom of the couch you sat on.

“You gotta stop fidgeting, Gin. Your braid is gonna be crooked if you keep squirming around!” You smiled softly down at Ginny but as her head turned to face you, you were shocked to find her face was dull, long like a horse. That one-of-a-kind glimmering light that typical lit her eyes was blown out. The residue left a worrisome display instead. She sent you an apologetic look then turned back to face the fire. Her body was as straight as a line and as stiff as Harry’s Great Aunt.

“Sorry… just a bit distracted.” The raspiness in her voice made you wonder if she felt ill. Usually before a match the young girl couldn’t sit still! Her knees would bounce in excitement and you’d have to pin her down to get the braids in but today, she was hardly moving an inch. Pausing your braid in the middle of her scalp, you arch your brows to Ginny.

“What’s on your mind Ginny?”

“A bit nervous about the match- that’s all.” She dismissed your worries with a sigh, clearly still crackling under stress. Although Ginny was your boyfriend's little sister, with time, she became your little sister. You stopped thinking of her as Fred’s sister and one of your best friends. Seeing her flooded with pressure caused concern in you as well but she looked up to you and it was partially your duty to make sure the self doubts you had as a young girl never disrupted Ginny.

Giving the girl a gentle smile, your hands began to rake through her hair again. The first braid was half way done so you resumed your work as you reassured her,

“Slytherin never plays fair but I believe in you guys. You’re gonna pull it off, don’t stress. Just fly clear of Malfoy and Flint and you should be fine.”

“Yeah you’re right…” She trailed off. Furrowing your fixation on her hair, you slowly pried further.

“What else is the matter-” But before you could seek out any further information, your body jerked forward as two arms snaked around your upper body. You shrieked in freight then quickly whipped your head around to see Fred Weasley grinning down at you. Should’ve guessed, you thought to yourself. He was bound to come searching for you sooner or later and drag you to his room for a nap.

“Ah, I was wondering where the two of you snuck off to. Good afternoon, angel.” Fred leaned his head towards you to kiss your cheek. After leaving one, he left another, and another, and another until you had to push him back. You managed to hold onto the already started braid as you held Fred back with your hand on his chest. His hand immediately went to cover yours and squeeze on your grip, then pulled away glancing between his sister sitting in front of you and yourself.

“Hello, lovie. Where is the other, less annoying half of you?” You smiled a sickly sweet grin to Fred as he gave you a warning glare. Reaching up, you used your free hand to pull Fred down by his collar and placed a sugared kiss to his lips. Always ready for your affection Fred returned the kiss softly, his hands cupping around your chin to leaned your head back. An awkward cough ruined the mood as Ginny fidgetted silently. Fred released his grip on your face at once and threw his leg over the couch. Inviting himself into the conversation, he threw either leg over the maroon couch and slipped in besides you. His face was bright and gleeful, the apples of his cheeks a tint red. The orange hair sprouting down to his shoulders was brighter, shinier than normal. You felt your heart race at the sight. Wrapping his arm around your shoulder, Fred glued himself snug to your side.

“Flirting with Alicia or Katie, can’t tell,” He tossed his head back to motion over to his twin talking up your friends in the corner. The three were laughing and talking hushly, all huddled close. You stopped your hands to glance over, then looked down as you felt Ginny moving beneath you. Fred drummed his finger on the right unbraided, half of her head causing the girl to blindly swing her arm backwards trying to swat at him. You scolded him sternly, threatening him if he messed up the half you were working on. Chuckling at her flailing arms and your attempt at being stern, Fred leaned back into the couch and tossed his arm around your shoulder. “You ready for the big match, Gin?”

Although the only portion visible was the backside of her head, both Fred and yourself watched her shudder and wince at the inquiry. Fred was happier than ever which was a typical mood for him on any given day but especially the day of a match. Most felt the nervous butterflies and sickening feeling before an important game but Fred? You were almost 100% positive Fred had never experienced the feeling of anxiousness. His confidence seemed to flourish under pressure.

Ginny was never to the big stage, though. She didn’t bask in the glory and attention the same way her brothers did. There was that fear of not living up to everyones expectations that crept into her mind as she took the pitch each match. Ginny ducked her head as she scratched the side of her neck.

“Uh huh.” Ginny’s sigh earned a frown on Fred’s lips. You’d be lying if you said it wasn’t adorable. The concern read from his features as he sent you a short look. He had an idea based off the alarming gleam in your eyes, but as her brother, he wasn’t willing to back off. His long arms tightened around your shoulder as he tilted his head to Ginny in question.

“You don’t sound very confident at all- what’s the matter with you? It’s the biggest match of the season!” He cheered loudly, causing the young girl to jump in her spot. You tucked the three strands in a weaving pattern trying everything in your power to finish as quickly as you could so Ginny would be free to escape this conversation. Maybe it was a male thing but Fred was just not reading the room correctly. Between Ginny’s uncomfortable shifting and your stern stares, he still just wasn’t understanding her nerves. You snatched the hair tie off the couch cushion and wrapped it around the end of her braid. Tapping his side with your elbow, you looked to Fred sternly.

“I think she realizes that, Fred. Let’s not stress her out even more.” Your tone was pointed and you expected Fred to pick up but clearly, it went straight over his head. This earned a raspy chuckle of disbelief from Fred. Slipping his grip from your waist, Fred leaned forward. Placing his elbows on his knees, his chin rested in the palm of his hands. He had a teasing look as he scoffed,

“Stressed? Since when has a game ever stressed you out, Ginny? You’re the youngest starter on our team! There’s no need to be worried about anything.” Fred’s face was bright with excitement at thought at the upcoming match. His rosy cheeks were squished as he smiled gleefully. A loud groan emanated from Ginny as she threw her head back in frustration, though remained silent. Her once lively orbs reddening by the second as salty tears brimmed. The grin vanished from Fred’s face. He turned to you in confusion, his face resembling that of a wounded puppy.

At times, Fred had moments where he didn’t particularly like his little sister, but he always loved her. It was the brotherly instinct in him; the constant need to keep a watchful eye out for Ginny. He knew she could hold her own, but he couldn’t help that protective nature. Sending him a sharp look, you muttered quietly under your breath,

“Nice work…”

The common room was slowly beginning to scatter out as students made the most of their time before the big match. You caught a glimpse of George walking out the portrait with Lee by his side. You wondered what kind of mischief they were up to, it certainly couldn’t be anything good. Harry and Ron were trudging up the staircase to their room assumingly and Hermione was sitting on the opposite side of the room reading quietly. The atmosphere was relaxed like the calm before a storm. Win or lose, the common room would be buzzing with energy tonight. It was just a matter of happy celebration, or tense aftermath of defeat.

You reached out for the right half of Ginny’s hair and repeated your steps. You parted the bright strands and braided them tightly.

Fred on the other hand was lost to his sister’s emotions and eager for answers. Reaching forward, Fred squeezed Ginny’s shoulder in a comforting manner. His face was scrunched together in concern as he sweetly asked her,

“… what’s the matter, little one? I’m sure your big brother can help.”

You had to physically bite your tongue to keep from ‘aweing’ at him. The one thing you loved more than anything about Fred was how caring and comforting he could be. Your heart was dripping in adoration. There had been a handful of moments you heard Fred refer to Ginny as ‘Little One’. It was typically in mocking sense or playful, however in her fragile moments, it was said with such serenity and gentleness. He was always there to help his little sister and protect her. You couldn’t help but imagine how great of a dad Fred would be in the future. He was the only man you could ever see yourself with and knowing how great of a person he truly is just made you even more certain.

Standing from the couch, Fred shuffled around the two of you so he was sitting in front of Ginny. She sniffled quietly using the sleeve of her sweater to rub her eyes. Your eyes darted between the half finished braid and the pair. Fred was patient in giving Ginny her time and finally, she came around.

“What if I lose it for us? If we don’t win, everyone is gonna hate me! It’ll be my fault and Oliver will probably kick me off the team and I’ll have nothing! And you’ll all be mad at me and mum and dad will be disappointed-” Her frantic ramble was shut down when Fred started to talk over her. It was a crazy thought; one he could not allow to marinate in her mind.

“What’re you talking about? Do you even hear yourself, Ginny?” His voice was booming causing both Ginny and yourself to jump in surprise. Your eyes met for a brief second before he took a deep breath, “First off; Oliver Wood has lost a handful of matches for us and he’s still our captain. I mean, Harry has fallen off his bloody broomstick how many times and he’s still our top Seeker! You’re the best one on that pitch Ginny- well besides George and I, but you know what I mean.” Fred chuckled a bit as a small smile cracked on Ginny’s lips. Her eyes lifted from the ground to glance up at her brother. From your spot on the couch, you couldn’t read her features. You were also too invested in the braid to look away. But Fred bending down to wrap his arms around his sister and practically squish her was answer enough. Ginny squealed at Fred’s bone crushing grip, pleading with him to let go.

You rolled your eyes at the siblings, laughing to yourself as you finished securing the hair tie in the finished braid. Leaning back you smoothed your fingers over the weaved pattern. Her hair was somehow more ginger in this style and you adored it. Peaking your head over Ginny’s shoulder, you pointed out,

“And I don’t think it’s even possible for your parents to be disappointed in you. Fred, George and Ron destroyed the family car and your parents still love them and forgave them.”

“Well I wouldn’t say forgave-” Fred winced as he recalled the event. It had been years and Molly still brought it up when she was angry with the boys. They all knew it was something they’d never fully live down in Molly’s eyes. Even on her deathbed Fred was certain she’d find a way to bring it up. Flicking the material of his sweatshirt, you glared playful at Fred for his interruption. You wrapped Ginny in a hug from behind, your arms captured around her shoulders. She melted in your grip, embracing your comforting hold. Fred folded his legs together and just sort of watched.

There was a sudden jolt of awe, that moment where everything just clicked. It came out of nowhere like a car speeding through a red light. His back pressed into the coffee table for support while he just stared. There was no one more important in this world to Fred Weasley than his family. Seeing his little sister hurt and finding solace in you, it was difficult for Fred to string together the proper words on how it made him feel. The emotions brewing inside him were entirely new- like the feeling of opening presents on Christmas morning and finding you got everything that you asked for. This sheer hypnotic haze that covered Fred went unbeknownst to you as your attention stayed locked on Ginny.

“What I’m trying to say is, it really is just a game. No one's gonna disown you if you make a mistake; Freddie here makes twenty mistakes before breakfast every morning. And even if they are bigger and play dirty, you’re faster and smarter than their entire lineup combined. We all believe in you, Ginny. I’ve seen you do it a million different times and I’ll be right there cheering you on.” Letting go of her, your head lifted to greet the eyes of Fred Weasley. Immediately you took notice of the change in his gaze. Still mesmerizing as ever to be under, yet heavier than before. Instead of throwing a childish jab back, he just held your stare, speechless for once.

Your head tilted in confusion at his odd behavior as Ginny placed her hands on either side of her body to push herself up. This seemed to pull Fred from his trance as he mimicked her actions and stood from the floor. Brushing off her pants and sweater, she gave you both a look of gratitude and said,

“Thank you, Y/n. It really means a lot- thank you too, Freddie.”

“ ‘course, we’ll always be here for you- even if we do lose, you’ll still be my favorite sister.” Fred said with a cheek smirk. Ginny rolled her eyes in slight annoyance. Just when he was sweet, he was sour once again.

“I’m your only sister Fred but thanks. I should probably go get some homework finished so I’ll see you down at the pitch later. Thanks for doing my hair, Y/n. You’re the best- I wish you really were my sister.”

“So you’re telling me, after all this time, I’m not your sister?” You asked teasingly. Ginny laughed happily, clearly pleased with your response. Fred knew how much Ginny looked up to you, how badly she wants to follow in your footsteps, and it makes him thrilled. Not only does he loves how much his sister adores you, but how great of a role model you are to her. He understood how easy it could be to shove her away or dismiss her, and Fred wouldn’t blame you if you did. However you never once turned Ginny away and it played a role in his feelings evolving so intensely. Her cheeks tinted red as she gave you one last wave and skipped up the steps to her dorm. As she disappeared from view, you looked over to Fred only to see his eyes already planted on you. The weight of his stare was suffocating and made you fidget. The second you met his gaze, Fred’s mouth dropped open as he confessed,

“I’m in love with you.” The word vomit rolled effortlessly from his lips. The contagious smile Fred seemed to constantly cause rose to your face. Having been together for some years, Fred was no stranger to broadcasting his feelings for you. Something about this felt more serious than the other times. Sinking into the cushion, you nodded over to the boy in agreeance.

“I’m in love with you, too.” Shaking his head, Fred lunged forward so he was kneeling in front of you. His hands slipped inside your own as he set your intertwined hands in your lap. That playfulness has been swept away as his eyes read full honesty. Fred’s soft features were rough, sharp on the edges as his jaw clenched with tension. Giving your hand a loving squeeze, Fred locked his eyes on yours.

“No, Y/n, I’m like, Alice fell down the rabbit hole, deeply in love with you- I’ve never felt this way about anyone before. Just… promise me you’ll stick around, okay?” His voice was filled with worry and fear. You jumped forward to crunch him in a tight embrace. Fred chuckled at your abruptness but exchanged the hug nonetheless. His fingers trailed up and down the bones of your spine drawing circles and shapes as he rubbed your back. You could feel his nose pressing into your hair and soon enough, a sloppy kiss was planted on your head. Grinning like a fool, you glanced up to him with a cheesy smile.

“Hate to break it to you, Fred, but I’m not going anywhere, sorry.” You remarked, reaching up on your tippy toes to kiss his lips. Fred leaned into your lips, his hands wrapping around your waist for support. As he pulled away, you noticed that one of a kind glint reached his eyes. Before you could hypothesize his next move, Fred’s arm swooped around your lower back to scoop you up from your legs. He lifted you up and repositioned so he was carrying you in his arms. You hollered in surprise as Fred just chuckled.

“Good, don’t think I’d let you anyhow, angel. Now c’mon, someone owes me a nap.” He stated, sending you a cheeky wink. Fred began to walk towards the stairwell heading towards the boys dormitory. Clinging to his arm, you glared deathly to Fred.

“If you drop me I am writing to Molly the second I can reach a quill and parchment.” You threatened. Fred walked through the opening to the staircase then started to skip up the steps, still holding your body. You shook with every step, trying your best to mask your giggles with angry looks and sneers. Tightening his face, Fred thought on it for a moment then scowled at the idea.

“Relax, Y/n. Don’t have to take it that far- I just said I’m in love with you and that’s how you’re gonna treat me.” He teased you. His room was on the second to top floor and you could tell you were approaching by the way he slowed down. Fred’s fingers tickled at your side as he made his way towards his door. Instead of setting you down, Fred swung the door open still grasping on to you. He wasted no time slamming the door shut and practically flinging you onto his bed. Your melodic laughter filled every inch of his room making Fred glow red in pleasure. He tugged off his robes and tie, then crawled into his bed next to you. You reached over the side of the mattress for a comfy shirt of his and some pajama pants he kept lying around. He couldn’t tear his gaze, nor did he want to. Winking over to Fred, you threw his comforter over your body and cuddled up next to him.

“If it’s any constellation, I’m like, furthest rock down in the ocean, deeply in love with you.” You admitted softly. Fred’s head snapped down in your direction as he grinned to himself,

“I reckon that’s gotta count for something, love. But could we switch so I’m the little spoon? You know we’ll lose the match if I’m not and then it’ll be your fault, not Ginny’s.”

You let out a dramatic groan as you flipped around to throw your arm over Fred. His face was lit in joy as he snuggled into your hold. You smiled to yourself as you felt his lips brush against your hand and leave a small trail of kisses on each finger. Fred and his rituals, you laughed to yourself as the feeling of sleep entered your body and your eyes fell shut. The soothing sound of Fred humming was a perfect lullaby for any person to find sleep in but it had become your favorite sound. Soon, Fred would have to get ready and go face Slytherin but for now, your arms seemed to be the only place he wanted to be.

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donghyuckcuyhgnod · 3 years

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[5:12 pm]

to say that donghyuck was nervous was an understatement. sure, he hoped that your parents would like him—but would they approve of his lifestyle? being an idol, he knew he couldn’t be there for you as much as you both would have liked; yet, it was something the two of you were willing to sacrifice for your relationship. of course, you had told your parents all about the lovely donghyuck that you happened to call your boyfriend. you had been dating for nearly two years now, and he had yet to meet your parents. surely they hated him for that, right? however, you constantly assured him that they knew he was an idol with very limited free time, and they understood.

he previously had some brief conversations with your mother over the phone a few times, but his nerves were still shaking and his heart was still hammering in his chest at the thought of your family not liking him. you had grown close with his, and he hoped that your parents and siblings loved him just as much as his family loved you. noticing the silence in the car (your boyfriend was never silent), you glanced over at him only to see his eyes shaking and his eyebrows furrowed, clearly deep in thought. his eyes were trained on the road, both of his hands gripping the steering wheel.

“hyuck,” you called out softly, his eyes darting to yours for a split second, his features immediately softening at the sight of your comforting smile. he knew that look; it was the calm down, everything’s going to be fine look. he had seen it plenty of times, mainly when he was nervous before performing and you were there to calm his nerves. you were good at that.

responding to your unspoken words, he sighed. “i know, i know. i’m just nervous, okay? i mean, how could i not be? i’m meeting your entire family tonight. including your siblings. oh, god! what if your older brother hates me? i’m dead meat.”

you chuckled, “hyuck, my brother loves nct’s music. he’ll probably be fanboying over you the second you walk into my house.” hyuck groaned in frustration, letting his head fall to the steering wheel while at a red light. you smiled, secretly enjoying the rare show of hyuck’s nervous habits. you thought it was kind of cute how much he wanted to make a good impression on your family.

donghyuck let out a shaky breath when the two of you pulled up to your house, a light smile taking over your features as you inspected the place where you grew up. after moving to seoul for your internship at sm entertainment, you weren’t really given the time to visit your family, for they were nearly a three hour drive from the city you now called home. still, a sense of nostalgia washed over you. you missed your family dearly.

“ready, baby?” you said, unbuckling yourself as you climbed out of the car, smoothing down your skirt and eyeing your boyfriend with amusement.

“not at all,” he muttered, before stepping out of the car as well. you chuckled, making your way to his side and stepping in front of him.

“i know you’re nervous, hyuckie, but don’t be. they’re gonna love you,” you said, trailing your hand up his arm, lightly caressing his hot, blushing cheek at the nickname that only you called him. he wrapped his arms around your middle, snuggling into you and taking a deep breath. you cooed at him, one hand rubbing comforting circles on his back and the other playing with the ends of the hair on his neck.

you took ahold of his cheeks, forcing him to pull away from you. he closed his eyes, resting his forehead on yours as he sighed in contentment, and for a moment, all of his worries were forgotten. the only thing he cared about was the way your embrace felt like home to him, and he wondered if you felt the same despite the inviting house that you stood in front of. your lips felt like a warm blanket on a cold winter night, wrapping him in the utmost of comfort and warmth when connected with his. the soft sweater you wore that was bunched in his hands felt like a cloud, the smell of your laundry detergent and soft vanilla perfume filling his scents with everything that reminded him of you.

“i love you. no matter what happens,” you whispered, breaking the soft and gentle kiss between the two of you. you pressed a featherlight kiss to his nose, his eyes shining underneath the golden rays of the sky as the sun began to set. he nodded, giving himself a mini pep-talk before following you to your doorstep with his hand tightly grasping yours. he put on the kindest smile he could muster, unaware of the ten eyes sneakily watching the two of you through the living room window, smiles on all five of their faces.

–

your family sure did love donghyuck, alright.

“you were so cute as a baby, y/n. what happened?” your boyfriend teased you, a mischievous glint in his eyes. your younger brother, aged twelve, laughed at the joke. you playfully rolled your eyes, pushing his shoulder lightly as he chuckled, giving your younger brother a high five. you continued to look through your baby photos on your living room couch. you felt completely at ease in your beloved home, surrounded by your family who you loved dearly. even better, you were sharing this moment with the love of your life. you were in heaven.

“oppa, look what i found!” your seven-year-old sister yelled, running down the stairs with two barbie dolls in hand. she giggled, “this one looks like you!” she shoved the tan, brunette ken doll into his hands, her eyes crinkling in happiness and delight as he smiled at her.

“you’re right, it kind of does!” he said enthusiastically, despite the fact that the ken doll did not, in fact, look anything like your boyfriend. the young girl was cute for trying, though. “and she looks just like you!” he gasped in fake disbelief, pointing to the other barbie doll in her hand. she giggled, giving him the biggest and shiniest eye-smile as she plopped on the couch right next to donghyuck, shyly looking up at him. you cooed at the sight.

“looks like you’ve got some competition, sis,” your brother says, older by three years. you laughed, causing donghyuck’s ears to perk up. diverting his attention from your little sister who was desperately trying to play barbies with him, he looked at your smiling figure and his heart nearly burst out of his chest. you were laughing with your brother (although, he wasn’t sure what about; and frankly, he didn’t care at the moment), and donghyuck thinks that he’s never seen someone so beautiful. after getting to know your family while eating the delicious meal that your mother had made, it all made sense to him.

your kindness, and the way you talked to others all made sense when he had met your parents. the way they welcomed him with open arms made him feel like he was already part of the family. the same smile that made his heart run a mile a minute whenever you looked at him was the same smile that your mother greeted him with. the kind glimmer in your eyes that donghyuck could get lost in was the same look in your father’s eyes—nice to finally meet you, son.

the way your younger siblings clearly admired you like no other, and the proud look in your older brother’s eyes when you talked about your experience as an intern while passing him the mashed potatoes. all of it; the family portraits hung on the wall, the coziness of the home you grew up in. donghyuck could only imagine your memories in the house, and it created an unexplainably intimate feeling in his heart. the overall atmosphere of a simple, yet tightly knit home—it radiated you. seeing you like this, in a way, made donghyuck feel even closer to you.

he didn’t realize he was staring at you with a smile on his face until you poked his cheek. “hyuck? are you okay?” you lightly chuckled, “you’ve been staring at me for two minutes, now.”

“right, yeah, sorry,” he breathily laughed, his cheeks flaring up with a red tint, shaking the overwhelming feelings of you out of his head. “i’m fine. i’m perfect, actually.”

“okay, whatever you say,” you teased, pinching his flushed cheeks and causing him to scrunch his face in displeasure. suddenly, your mother called you from the kitchen, asking for your help with the dessert she was almost done preparing. you happily complied, a sweet sure thing, mom! escaping your lips.

“i’ll be right back, baby. just keep these demons occupied for me,” you jokingly pleaded, causing donghyuck to laugh a little at your words. he happily nodded, before you kissed him on the cheek and made your way to the kitchen. he watched as you disappeared from his side, smiling to himself.

“you’re really whipped for my little sister, huh?” your older brother said from the other side of the living room, crossing his arms with a teasing glint. donghyuck nervously laughed, scratching the back of his neck in a nervous manner. he looked down at his shoes in slight embarrassment, your brother smiling knowingly at the shy boy.

donghyuck sighed, “you have no idea.”

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dreaming-about-fanfictions · 4 years

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Choose Me Instead II Draco Malfoy x Reader II Chapter 5 of 27: You

Summary: Pretending to be in a relationship with Draco Malfoy to get back at your ex might have not been the smartest idea you ever had. Especially during your last year of Hogwarts where you should be focusing on exams and your future plans. However, you were just pretending. There was no way in hell you could actually catch feelings for someone like Malfoy. … Right?

CHAPTER 4

A/N: A chapter from a different perspective! I hope you all like it <3 And thank you so much for your support!! I love you all so muuuuuch!!!

Words: 2300 Pairing: Draco Malfoy x female!Reader, post-war Warnings: none

Draco Malfoy wasn’t easy to impress. Being bored quickly by other people was one reason why he never had many close friends – and yes, he knew how utterly arrogant that sounded. It was the truth however. He was friendly with most of the Slytherins but his mother always taught him “Quality over quantity” and he agreed. Draco went so far as to apply that mindset to his love life as well. Yes, before the sixth year of school, he used to like to flirt and he had dated the occasional Slytherin girl. He was also very aware of the fact that there had been quite a few girls with crushes on him. In some cases, he even reciprocated them, however, those feelings faded quickly.

So you couldn’t imagine how much it bothered Malfoy that he wasn’t able to stop thinking of you. Not even in his dreams did you leave him alone and so he kept on going back to that evening on the Quidditch field. Until today, it was entirely unclear to him why he told you all those things. He didn’t know anything about you yet speaking to you left him feeling … good, almost. After a year of trials and coming home to find his family and life in shambles, there was no one left to talk to. No one he wanted to talk to. To whom was he going to turn? His friends which were all coming from the same pureblood Death Eater families? Yes, of course, they understood – and also they didn’t. Not quite. Did you understand him? Probably not, he guessed. After all, you were a Gryffindor and fought on the right side of the war. The winning side. But talking to you felt different, almost easy. You grew up in another world than him and maybe that was the key to it all.

Obviously, Draco didn’t plan on repeating that evening. You were friends with the whole Potter and Weasley bunch. It made it even harder to trust you – how could he be sure you hadn’t already told your Gryffindor friends and were laughing about him behind his back? It was possible. A part of him didn’t want to believe this possibility and another part reminded him of all the times he was disappointed and got hurt by the people around him. It was probably for the best to stay away from you.

Yet he didn’t stop thinking of you. He saw you looking at him in the Great Hall during meals, watched you from walk away when you passed him in hallways and the library. Without noticing it, he always chose a place behind you in class. Draco didn’t understand the urge to be close to you. It was utterly ridiculous for Merlin’s sake. You were a Gryffindor; one of the good ones. He wasn’t. Not at all.

Maybe it was because of the kiss, he wondered at some point. Maybe you hexed him in this moment. Draco knew this theory was very far-fetched but it was the only logical explanation fin his mind. Why else would he keep thinking back to that moment in the storage room? He didn’t deny that you were witty and smart and very beautiful – he wasn’t blind after all – but so were lots of girls. What the hell was so special about you that you wouldn’t leave his thoughts?! It couldn’t be your taste in men as you obviously didn’t have any. At least there wasn’t a reasonable explanation for him for why someone like you would get with someone like the Weasel.

“Draco,” Blaise’s voice pulled him out of this thoughts. “You coming?”

Draco nodded. “Yeah, just a second.”

He got up from the table in their shared dorm, putting his notebook in the drawer of his nightstand. Two months since school started and he had almost filled in all of its pages. Draco started writing during the first trial of his parents last year. It kept him focused and helped him put his thoughts in order. It soon became a daily ritual which helped him stay grounded. Draco carried it around in his bag during the day, using it in between classes and meals. His friends caught him doing it a lot and he was sure they had already guessed what it was. He was glad when they didn’t say anything because in the end, Draco would have rather died before admitting that he was using a diary.

“You’re not wearing a costume!”, Astoria exclaimed when he joined the others in the common room. Pansy, Blaise, Theodore and the Greengrass sisters were already waiting for him.

There was a Halloween party happening in the Room of Requirements tonight and his friends had convinced him to go even though it meant more awkward conversations with Astoria.

“I thought we’re not doing muggle traditions. What are you supposed to be?”, he asked instead, taking in her revealing outfit.

She giggled. “I’m a healer. Or ‘nurse’ as the muggles call it.”

“Ah,” Draco made, thinking that she didn’t look like a healer at all. “I thought Halloween was supposed to be scary?”

Astoria rolled her eyes, before linking their arms with each other. “You’re no fun. Don’t you think I look pretty?”

“Astoria, you can wear a potato sack and still look absolutely stunning.”

That answer seemed to satisfy her and they started making their way towards the exit of the common room. Draco glanced at her from the side. She was, objectively speaking, the perfect match for a Malfoy. Coming from a well-respected and wealthy pureblood family combined with her intelligence and beauty, she was everything his parents could have wanted for him. Especially now.

You had told him what to do. It was such a simple solution to all of his impending problems. However, it had been the moment where Draco had realized that you grew up differently. Not a day went by where he didn’t receive a heartbreaking letter from his mother. He knew, she just wanted the best for him and she didn’t want to manipulate him; she was simply desperate. Desperate for the live they used to have – a husband at home, a son with a promising future, money and a respected place in society.

Draco had asked himself countless times what the marriage would truly mean. His family would have another chance. Together with Astorias family, his future was secured. A good job, maybe even in the ministry if he was lucky. Enough money to take care of his mother. Who knew, maybe his father would be out of Azkaban sooner? Draco marrying Astoria would lessen his families suffering, that was for sure. But did he want that? Did he want a simple and easy solution to make their past crimes … disappear? His family was far from innocent. They had committed horrible crimes in the name of the Dark Lord – and a part of him knew, they deserved everything they got in the end. Hell, he wouldn’t have been surprised if they sent his mother and him to Azkaban as well.

When thinking about the engagement, another thought popped into his head. Could he learn to love Astoria? Would he be happy with her? Maybe. Maybe not. Draco knew only one thing for sure – there was a reason why he kept resisting to the whole idea. Giving in felt like sacrificing another part of himself to something his family had burdened him with.

“And Astoria, I disagree,” Blaise once again disrupted his train of thought by joining in from the right. “Draco can quickly make his costume appear. Just roll up your sleeves, Dray, and the Gryffindors will shit their pants on the spot.”

The rest of the group snickered but Draco didn’t react. Instead he suppressed the urge to touch the mark on his left arm and shoved his hand deeper into the pocket of his pants.

***

The Room of Requirement was absolutely crowded.

The Slytherins were surprised by how many people had actually appeared. Almost everyone from the sixth and seventh grade was here, wearing mostly ridiculous costumes. Music roared from invisible speakers, students were dancing and talking loudly.

“I’m surprised that the teachers didn’t already break this up,” Blaise almost had to shout. “Or Filch.”

Draco shrugged. “I feel like they stopped caring this year.”

“Maybe they feel responsible for all those deaths,” Theo suggested.

“So to make up for all the trauma, they allow us to party?”, Blaise concluded with an amused undertone.

“It’s good for us though so stop talking and start drinking,” Pansy chirped and grabbed Draco and Theo by their arms, pulling them towards the table with a few questionable bottles.

When his friends started chatting about the usual Hogwarts gossip, Draco’s eyes started to wander. He was searching the crowd for someone. You. Were you here? Did you even like parties? Draco had no idea. You always looked quite social from what he witnessed.

And there you were – standing in a group of people, listening to Granger who was gesticulating wildly. You were holding a drink and laughing at whatever the other girl told you. Draco noticed from across the room how your eyes were gleaming, your face red from the alcohol. You looked so careless. He swallowed hard at the sight.

“He’s either staring at Weasley, the mudblood or Y/L/N,” Zabini said to the others in that moment. “Don’t know what’s worse.”

Draco needed a second to understand his friends were talking about him. “What did you just say?” He turned to them.

Zabini grinned widely at him. “I said, you’re staring at the Gryffindors again, Draco. It’s fucking weird. What’s your sudden obsession with them?”

Draco quickly glanced at the rest of his friends. Daphne, Theodore and Pansy watched the two of you with a smirk on their lips, maybe even suppressing a giggle. Astoria looked at Draco with a worried expression.

“No, what did you just say?”, Draco repeated his question, straightening up slightly. “What did you call Granger?”

Blaise snorted. “What?”

Draco just stared at him.

“I called her a mudblood,” Blaise gave a half shrug.

“Yeah, what the fuck, Blaise,” Draco spat out.

“Come on, Dray,” Theodore tried to intervene. “It’s no big deal.”

“It is!” He looked at him, visibly disgusted.

“What’s your problem, Draco?”, Blaise raised an eyebrow, shifting from one leg to another. “You called her a mudblood for years and now you suddenly have a problem with it? You’re acting so weird this year, seriously.”

Before Draco was able to reply, Astoria carefully placed her hand on his arm. It took all the strength he had, not to immediately shake her off. “Come on,” she said softly. “Let’s get you a new drink and calm down.” She pulled him a few steps away from the group.

Draco gritted his teeth, remembering what he had thought about not being able to talk to his old friends. They understood – and also they didn’t.

“Are you okay, Draco?” Astoria asked, still looking slightly alarmed.

Draco looked at her. Did she want to hear an honest answer? “Sure,” he finally said.

She didn’t buy it. “You’ve been acting strange for a while now.”

“I’m really not.”

“Draco,” she reached for his hand. “I know you.”

He sighed and rubbed his eyes with his free hand. “Can we … can we not talk about this now? Here? With all these people around us?”

“There’s always a reason not to talk so we might as well do it here,” she pressed on.

Draco could think of a thousand different things he’d rather do than talk to her right now. “I’m … I’m not acting strange. It’s just a lot. With my parents and all that.”

Her smile changed from worried to pity. “I understand.” Did she? “That’s why I think we should move on.”

What kind of weird reaction was this? “Move on?”, Draco frowned.

“With our engagement.”

“Right.”

Astoria squeezed his hand. “I don’t see why we can’t just make it official.”

Draco looked at her fingers as if he was searching for a ring that he had forgotten existed. “Because the whole thing isn’t official yet,” he slowly said.

The brunette let go of his hand. “It’s going to happen anyways. My parents won’t stop talking about it and I bet it’s no different for your mother.”

Draco just wanted to get out of this situation. He got dragged here and now it was just one big argument. Why couldn’t they have stuck to gossiping and partying? “Why during school though?”

He saw how Astoria stared at the ground for a moment. When she started speaking again, her voice had become a little colder. “You know, there are a lot of men who would jump at this opportunity. My family is well respected and yours is …”

Draco let out a short whistle. “Thanks, Astoria,”

Astoria was visibly uncomfortable and Draco wondered if she regretted what she had just said. “That’s not how I meant it and you know that, Dray. I just don’t understand why this takes you so long.”

Draco put his hands on hips, pushing his jacket back. “Excuse me if I’m wrong,” he started, “But I’m not exactly your first choice either, am I?”

The girl didn’t answer right away. When she did though, Draco wanted to laugh at the sheer absurdity. “It’s not about what I want. It’s about what my parents want. Pureblood marriages will happen less and less in the future so we will be a good union.”

“Right,” Draco mumbled with a sad smile. It’s all about the family.

Astoria cleared her throat. “Well, are there any reasons why we shouldn’t move on?”

“Yes, there are.”

This didn’t come from Draco or Astoria. Irritated by the sudden interruption, he turned around to see who had so rudely eavesdropped on the conversation.

You.

***

A/N: Even though I wrote this, I really felt for Draco in this chapter. His life (like so many other characters lives in HP) is so f****** up. Sorry but I can’t find a better word for it. Poor Draco. Anyways - I hope you liked it!! I’d love to hear what you think <3 I love reading your comments *-* (if you don’t comment or do anything, it’s fine, don’t worry, I just love to read your thoughts <3)

CHAPTER 6

“Choose Me Instead”-Masterlist HP-Masterlist

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preciouslittletoonette · 3 years

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So since it’s already considered pretty accepted that Cuthbert Coot is the father of Kildare Coot, I had gone onto my ponderings about who Kildare’s mother is.

One of the wikias said her name was Luna Loon but besides that, I found nothing on her. So I did the next best thing:

I made a mother for Kildare:

Meet Petronella Paperella, everyone!

Born in 1963 to a family of fishermen, Petronella is a spirited young woman hailing from the small sea side town of Cefalu in Sicily, Italy. Out of 5 siblings, she is the second youngest of her brood.

In 1982, while making her way to town, by chance she meets Cuthbert Coot, who was staying with his uncle Clarence Coot up in Palermo for the year and decided to check out Cefalu for the day while his aunt Rosabella shopped and visited friends. The two, quite literally, bumped into each other (both their bikes crashed into each other, it was a nastly bump and fall). Petronella, quickly panicked and fretted over the person she crashed into, apologising frantically in Italian before the other could get a word in.

Cuthbert, however, was quickly besotted with the speckled beauty before him.

And that moment was what could be explained as the start of a wonderful relationship.

Cuthbert and Petronella spent a good amount of their free time together, Cuthbert mainly coming to Cefalu on weekends to spend time with her. Rarely did Petronella ever go to Palermo unless her family had business there and dropped her off at the Coot-de Paperone residence, where Cuthbert stayed. When not being able to visit each other, they sent each other letters. The letters initially started out quite friendly before showing subtle hints of flirting from mostly Cuthbert’s side (ending usually with a blushing mess on Petronella’s end. Safe to say, the flirting was well received). The flirting eventually bled through to their actual face-to-face talks (and hoo boy it’s amazing how red one’s face can become under the right circumstances) and soon their friendship turned to romance.

Cuthbert stayed in Sicily for another year due to the new development in their relationship and quickly went to work on not only his relationship with Petronella, but also to work on further impressing her family and showing/proving that he is capable of taking care of her.

Eventually the time for Cuthbert to leave was drawing closer and time seemed to be moving much faster for the both of them as time drew quicker. Petronella was deeply in love with Cuthbert and vice versa and wasn’t willing to leave him for so long. She had even fancied the idea of running to America with him, buying a ranch and raising cattle, having their own family and watching her children play in the fields without much worries.

So imagine her surprise and delight, when Cuthbert asks her to go with him to Duckburg ala marriage proposal (with her family’s approval and acceptance of course).

After 6 months of friendship and 1 and 1/2 years of romance, Petronella Paperella became Petronella Coot and with tearful goodbyes to her family, left Sicily, Italy for Calisota, USA and from there her life would get much better as Cuthbert had promised to both her and her family.

To say meeting the in-laws was overwhelming was an understatement. The Coot-Duck family had her surrounded the moment she stepped foot on Coot Kin land soil. Gretchen Coot (nee Grebe) had her daughter-in-law in her arms in seconds, happily and enthusiastically welcoming her to the family while Casey merely smiled and shook her hand, offering to take her bags inside for her. Elvira had even baked a special pie for the occasion (which Humperdink kept trying and failing to coax his wife into giving him a slice much to everyone’s amusement). Fanny, Cuthbert’s sister, welcomed her warmly as well and the two came quickly to accept each other sisters. The Coots were quite a lively bunch.

But Her beloved husband’s cousins were an even livelier group. Meeting Quackmore, Daphne and Eider would forever be one of Petronella’s favourite memories. The absolute chaos that followed the trio wherever they went was hilarious to witness and getting involved in their misadventures was even moreso. The misadventures she had ended up in led to her striking a lovely friendship with Daphne and Lulubelle, Eider’s wife and Hortense, Quackmore’s wife.

And when she was not out and about with the cousins and siblings, she was helping Cuthbert out with the ranch. It was thrilling compared to fishing to her. Getting to ride a horse and guiding cattle to and from the large open green fields was an absolute pleasure to her compared to fishing.

However, one little family disagreed with her.

6-year old, Donald Duck vehemently disagreed with her notion. His adoration with the sea and sailing was the most adorable sight she had ever witnessed. Really to her, all of the kids were adorable. She’d often babysit them all when things were too hectic at the farm for Elvira to take care of them.

All-in-all, Petronella’s relationship with the Coots and Ducks were as great as she had hoped it would be.

Then there were the McDucks.

Hortense’s family was... strange to say the least. Learning they too had immigrated to America from Europe made her feel a little more at ease with them when she’d first met them. But she noted the relationship between the siblings wasn’t as.... like the Ducks.

And while interacting with one of the members of the McDuck family, Douglas McDuck, the Ducks and the Coots (minus Cuthbert) see that, despite being a sweet and demure lady, there was a lot vitriolic rage hidden under that sweetness (which honestly just strengthened the friendship she had with Hortense).

Long story short, for his own safety, Douglas and Petronella were no longer allowed in the same room together unless

But life was good for Petronella.

Then it became great, because by 1988, she was greeted by what she considered her and Cuthbert’s greatest treasure.

Her eyes, beak and- from what she could tell just by his size- her small body. Cuthbert’s hair and feather colours.

Little Kildare Coot, or Sgrizzo as she lovingly called him.

Kildare was simply the light of Petronella’s life. Her first child, her baby boy who’d she sing sweet soft lullabies to like her own mother once did. While the family and his birth certificate say his name is Kildare, Petronella (and Cuthbert at times) call him Sgrizzo. She also spoke mostly Italian to him as a baby and would mix in English as he grew older.

By 1991, Petronella felt like she was truly at the height of her life, despite all the exhaustion and aches she felt from taking care of Kildare and helping Cuthbert and the rest of the family. She’d gone from Petronella Paperella, to Petronella Coot to now known as “dear Aunt Nellie Coot” as her nephews and nieces called her. Her marriage was great, she was to have another child soon, the family was at peace despite certain bumps in the road. Her life was great....

Until it wasn’t.

UGH, this took way too long to write out. I’ve been thinking about Petronella and her story for a while now, since she does have a bit of a role, albeit a minor one, in The Obscure Family members of Coot-Duck-McDuck so I decided to introduce her.

I have no other reason for giving her speckled feathers other than for the fact that it looked nice on her and I am very much attached to her right now.

Feel free to ask any questions about her or the story!!

#ducktales #duckverse #the obscure family members of coot-duck-mcduck #dt17 #dt17 oc #kildare coot #donald duck #donaldism

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nashibirne · 3 years

Text

Against all odds - 2.17

Here’s the next part of my fic! I’m sorry I haven’t updated it in a while, but I hope you like this part anyway.

Pairing: Henry Cavill x ofc

Summary: Henry finally meets Lestat

Warnings: None, only mentioning of sex

NO BETA! So maybe…bad english

Tags: @hell1129-blog @willkatfanfromasia @mis-lil-red

@lunedelorient @inlovewithhisblueeyes

Previous Parts:

2.1 2.2 2.3 2.4 2.5 2.6 2.7 2.8 2.9 2.10 2.11/2.12 2.13 2.14/2.15 2.16

2.17

A few weeks later Anna and Henry were sitting in her kitchen, drinking coffee. They still were perfectly happy, loving each other dearly.

The premiere of Macbeth had been a huge success and so was meeting Henry's parents for the first time. They were really nice and uncomplicated. It felt natural to talk to them and Anna got along with them very well.

So now that they had taken this hurdle successfully the next one awaited them already.

"You're really ready for this dinner?" Anna asked with a frown, pouring Henry some coffee. "It's only three hours time and I'm damn nervous." she added.

"Sure. Can't wait to finally meet them." Henry gave her a reassuring look. "Really, babe."

"All right. Good." She still didn't seem to relax. "Remember what I told you, okay? Don't let Lestat provoke you."

"Anna..." Henry let out a deep sigh. Ever since they had got the news that Jonas, Julia, and Lestat were coming to stay at Braxton for a couple of days, she kept on telling him this. He knew she was tense about him meeting Lestat but he really thought she was exaggerating with giving him all these warnings and instructions for handling her ex. They had talked this through countless times and she was still worried that this dinner was going to be a disaster.

"Listen, Babe. I promise -again- I won't let him provoke me, okay. He can insult me as much as he wants, I'm not going to react."

He leaned over the kitchen table in her cottage, cupped her face, placing a tender kiss on her lips.

"Henry, that's not the point. He's not going to insult you. Lestat is much more subtle. He will try to get under your skin. To make you feel bad. To make you feel inferior. He wants to prove that you are no good for me and believe me, he's a great manipulator. You have no idea..."

He kissed her again, interrupting her mid-sentence, brushing his tongue against her lips.

"Don't try to distract me, Cavill. I'm serious. You don't know Lestat."

"Right, I don't know him because you refuse to talk about him."

"I know." Anna stared at her coffee mug, stirring the hot liquid, lost in thought.

"Then talk to me now. It's better for me to know at least anything before facing him. I mean, besides the facts I know already. He's french but grew up in Germany. He's a solicitor. You went to an international private school together. You've been best friends ever since. He was your boyfriend for almost 14 years. He had a new girlfriend but broke up with her a few weeks ago and he very likely still loves you."

"What more do you need to know?" Anna shrugged.

"I need to know what kind of person he is. What kind of man. How did he become your best friend and later your lover? Stuff like this."

Anna sighed. "All right. I'm going to tell you about Lestat Dalmasso. I don't think it will be helpful but if you want to know...listen carefully.

Right away from their first day in elementary school Anna, Jonas and Lestat were absolutely inseparable. People used to make fun of them, calling them the triplets because they were so close. Lestat was there for them when their parents died, mourning too, because he loved them almost as much as his own parents. He protected the twins, took care of them, helped them to carry on with their life. They stuck together like glue, knowing each other by heart.

And they stayed close throughout their entire time at school, although there was a slight shift in their relationship when they were teenagers. The boys were all about sports and girls at that time, both total jocks and players. Jo was captain of the rowing team, Lestat was a skilled fencer, but their favorite discipline was laying girls at parties. Anna on the other hand wasn't into parties or sports. She loved her books and her boyfriend Tom. Besides working damn hard for good grades, she spent her time at home with Tom, being the good girl her grandparents didn't have to worry about.

But still, despite the fact that Anna didn't share the boy's love for sex, sports and rock 'n' roll, they were the very best friends, sharing all kinds of worries, thoughts and joy. In the last year of school Tom broke up with Anna and Lestat was her greatest support, listening endless times to her mourning for her first love, drying her tears, making her laugh again.

After graduation Anna got a scholarship plus her uncle had pulled a few strings, so she was able to follow in her mother's tracks by studying in Oxford. It was limited to two years but it meant the world to her.

When Anna returned from Oxford it was a total shock to see Lestat again. He had changed so much in these two years when she had been in the UK. He almost seemed like a different person. When she left he was a cute teenage boy who covered up his many insecurities by an eccentric, arrogant behavior. The spoiled brat of rich french parents who cultivated acting like a dandy, breaking girls hearts by the dozen. Despite his unconventional way of dressing and his ostentatious pretentiousness he had always been the star of their school. Everybody wanted to be his friend but the only real true friends he ever had were the twins. They were the only ones who knew the boy behind the mask of cockiness. The sensitive, highly intelligent guy with all those self-doubts and issues. Their best friend who was the most loyal and caring person they knew, always reliable, always coming up with solutions and ideas. The great pretender who would let them -and only them- see his true self.

The Lestat she found in their kitchen the day she returned from Oxford was no longer an insecure boy. He was a man now, handsome, mature, witty and very attractive. Sexy. Hot. In her wildest dreams Anna couldn't have imagined to ever fall in love with him, but this was exactly what happened right away. It felt like she was struck by lightning, coming out of the blue, unannounced but wonderful. The feeling was mutual and there was no chance in fighting it.

Jonas was furious when he realized that his best friend slept with his sister. He tried to talk them out of it, tried to convince them that this could never work, that they were too different. That this would end with at least one broken heart and a shattered friendship. But love was stronger than reason. Passion made it impossible to be sensible. So finally Jonas gave up. But not without making them swear an oath. If they would ever break up they would do anything possible to save their friendship.

"So that's the reason why you don't shut him out of your life. This oath." Henry said, when she'd finished talking, holding Anna's hand, stroking it gently with his thumb. "Yes, we owe it to Jonas to save our friendship. That was the deal." she sighed.

Three hours later Anna and Henry were standing in the castle's entrance hall meeting 'the german bunch' and Milton Arnold, Viscount Brankhurst, and his new girlfriend Mary who attended the dinner too.

Julia and Jonas greeted Henry with tight hugs, genuinely happy to meet him in person. Lestat was a little more distant but not unfriendly. He shook Henry's hand, a warm smile on his lips, looking him in the eyes. "Nice to finally meet you, Henry. I’ve been looking forward to this." His english was almost without an accent. 13 years in an international school obviously paid off.

"Nice to meet you too." Henry had to admit he was surprised and impressed by Lestat's appearance. He was a tall man, taller than himself, at least 6 ft 2. He was not as broad as Henry but buff too. Athletic and fit, like someone who runs a lot, doing his cardio regularly. Moreover he was really handsome, his face narrow with high cheekbones and a sharp jawline, his hazel eyes speckled with golden spots, his hair dark blonde and wavy. His suit was tailor-made, elegant and classy, giving him a distinguished look. He had a special charisma, radiating self-confidence and cockiness with a hint of snobbery. It wasn't hard to imagine that he was a lady-killer.

The dinner went quite well and everybody started to relax, having some glasses of excellent wine and delicious food. Lestat didn't seem to be looking for trouble. He was very interested in the things Henry told them about the renovation of the farm and his engagement at the Royal Shakespeare Company and he entertained the party with stories from his and the twins' childhood and youth.

After dessert George and Thomas got up from the table, preparing to leave.

"We're going to retire now, my dears, leaving the young folk to it. Enjoy yourselves and good night. Henry, please join us for breakfast tomorrow, will you?"

"Sure, thanks George." Henry answered, smiling.

After saying their goodbyes they stayed in the dining room for a while, chatting and laughing about this and that. Milton and Mary shared the story of their first date that had been quite disastrous but with a happy ending obviously. There was a slight change in Lestat's behaviour, who now concentrated on stories about Anna and himself, addressing her directly, getting quite familiar. His innuendos and almost flirty tone started to unnerve Henry, making him tense. He moved closer to Anna, laying his arm around her shoulder, kissing her tenderly on her cheek, demonstrating who now was the man in Anna's life.

Jonas seemed to notice the changing atmosphere too.

"Let's move to the drawing room, it's time for some music." he said.

"Sure." Lestat answered. "It's been way too long we made music together anyway."

The drawing room was gorgeous - light and beautifully furnished- with a grand piano placed in the corner besides the windows.

Jonas started to play some cheerful pieces of music that eased up everybody's mood.

He was a very skilled player. Henry knew he played the drums in a band in his free time but he obviously knew how to play the piano too. Which wasn't really surprising, since their mother was a pianist and their father a piano builder. After a while Anna and Jonas performed a wonderful ballad four-handed. It was the first time he heard his girlfriend sing and he was surprised how beautiful and touching her voice was. Warm and full, with a hint of roughness that really turned him on.

Lestat looked at Anna continuously, not even trying to hide his ogling from Henry.

"It's my turn now." he said after Jo and Anna had finished. Lestat started playing and everyone in the room recognized the song immediately. It was "Against all odds" and he seemed to sing it only for Anna, looking her right in the eyes. She started shifting in her seat uncomfortably, avoiding Henry's gaze. Jules and Jonas exchanged glances, obviously irritated too. Milton and Mary were too polite to show what they were thinking but Milton's forced smile gave it away anyway.

Henry was so tense now, his whole body stiffened, he clenched his teeth, his hands were balled into fists. He tried to pretend that he was fine, to play it cool, but he was sure Lestat could see right through him, reading him like an open book. He knew now what Anna had meant when she had predicted that Lestat had something up his sleeve.

"How can you just walk away from me

When all I can do is watch you leave?

'Cause we've shared the laughter and the pain

And even shared the tears

You're the only one who really knew me at all."

Lestat's voice was deep and dark, with a captivating timbre. Henry got up, standing behind Anna's seat, placing his hands on her shoulders, squeezing them gently. Anna didn't look at him, but she laid her hands on his, stroking them, building a connection.

I wish I could just make you turn around

Turn around and see me cry

There's so much I need to say to you

So many reasons why

You're the only one who really knew me at all

So take a look at me now

Well there's just an empty space

And there's nothing left here to remind me

Just the memory of your face

Now take a look at me now

'Cause that's just an empty space

But to wait for you is all I can do

And that's what I've gotta face.

Lestat didn't even seem to notice Henry, still looking at Anna only, finishing the song as if it was the most normal thing to do.

"Are we done with this shit show now?" Henry asked after the last few tones, his voice restrained, his eyebrows narrowed.

"Shit show? That's a rude way to comment on my....performance. You didn't like it?" Lestat got up from the piano chair a cocky grin on his face.

"What I don't like is another man singing cheesy love songs for my woman."

"Your woman? Do you own her now?"

"Lestat, stop it." Anna's voice was sharp like a knife. "Shut the fuck up, okay?"

"I'm not the one being rude." Lestat shrugged.

"Just leave it be." Jonas said, touching his friend's arm to calm him down.

Henry and Lestat were facing each other now, staring in each other's eyes. Henry was about to freak out. The smug smile on Lestat's lips, the challenging look in his eyes...everything about him made Henry want to punch his handsome face.

It was Milton who finally got between them, interrupting their staring contest.

"Guys, let's act like civilized gentlemen, all right? This isn't the time nor the place for this. So let's drop the topic." After a few seconds Henry took a step back, taking Anna's hand. "Sure. I'm sorry."

Lestat just nodded slowly, turning around, sitting down on a loveseat, his long legs stretched out.

"Maybe we should go." Anna said softly.

"What. Now that we're having so much fun?" The sarcasm in Lestat's voice scared her. "We haven't even started telling embarrassing stories from our life or discussing our relationships."

"Right. Let's leave it at that." Henry said, his words sounding like a threat but Lestat continued anyway, ignoring him completely.

"I mean...for example.... isn't it funny, Anna. Four men in this room, and you’ve fucked three of them...."

Anna's heart skipped a beat, her face turning red with anger and embarrassment. She simply couldn't believe he'd really said that.

"God. You never disappoint, Lestat."

"Oh, I didn't know it's supposed to be a secret." Lestat smiled innocently.

"Well, now it isn't a secret anymore." Henry was surprised how calm his voice was, because his heart was racing with fury. "But don't worry, Lestat. I've known it anyway. Anna told me about the encounter at the students party."

To Henry's big surprise it was Jonas who freaked out now. Anger in his eyes, his voice full of bewilderment.

"You touched my sister? How dare you Milton. I told you to look after her at Oxford, not to fuck her. I can't believe it...."

"I'm sorry, Jo. It was once only...."

"Oh great, fuck and go. Yeah, that sounds a lot like you..."

"Would you please stop it, Jo. This is none of your business." Anna interrupted them, almost yelling now. "What happened between me and Mils is none of anyone's business at all. We're fine with it and that's all that matters. What do you mean by 'I told you to look after her' at all? You thought I'd need a babysitter?" She shook her head in disbelief. "Screw it...I hope you're happy now, Lestat."

Anna turned around, sinking into Henry's arms, exhausted and sick of fighting, hugging him tightly. She felt like a rag doll, all tension gone from her body. Henry kissed her forehead, embracing her. "It’s all right, princess." he whispered softly in her ear. “Let’s go home”

#Henry Cavill fandom #henry cavill fanfiction #henry cavill x ofc #cavillry #henry cavill

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isolemnlyswearpevensie · 4 years

Text

Paper Cut Part 2 | Edmund Pevensie x Reader Soulmate AU

Warnings: Making out/kissing

Time/Era: Modern AU but the Pevensies have been to Narnia.

Word Count: 2.5k

Summary: Y/N confronts Edmund about the intense injuries she had received in the past.

A/N: Here’s the second part to paper cut :) If you haven’t read the first part, link below! Please send requests :D Enjoy!

Part 1 | Part 3 | masterlist | read on ao3

“Edmund, I think you have a lot of explaining to do.”

Edmund’s face was unreadable, almost as if it was made of stone. He stayed quiet; the only sounds that filled the air were the shuffling of the barista and the espresso machine. Y/N wished he would just say something. The silence was damning.

“Edmund?” His gaze didn’t falter at his name but stayed glued to Y/N’s hand. His eyes traveled up her arm, taking mental notes of every scar, bruise, bump, or cut. Edmund stood up without a word, the chair making a painful screeching noise in his path, and walked out of the coffee shop.

Meeting her soulmate had been completely different in her head; maybe they would fall into each other’s arms in the streets of London. He would sweep her off of her feet after noticing a small scar on her neck and say something disgustingly romantic. “I’ve been waiting for you, Y/N, you’re even more beautiful than I could have ever imagined.” Then, they would fall madly, deeply in love, and adopt a dog. Fall wedding perhaps? Maybe summer? But here Y/N sat, one hand on her stomach, the other gripping a foreign notebook. Before Y/N could process what was happening, Edmund was out of sight and she was left to her own thoughts.

“Y/N! Wake up!” Y/N was startled by Y/B/F/N shaking her awake. “Don’t you have a final in like an hour?”

That sentence felt like a bucket of ice water. Y/N sprung up from her warm bed and scrambled to get ready. The clock seemed to run dangerously fast and by the time she opened the door of her lecture hall, the test was being passed out.

“You have three hours and because I’m in such a good mood, you may use your study guide.” The professor continued to pass the packets around the room. They looked thick and time-consuming. Time management had never been Y/N’s strong suit.

When she was handed her paper, all she could do was take a deep breath. This professor was a harsh grader, so unless her answers were 100% correct, there was no way Y/N would pass. She took the unfamiliar notebook she received from Edmund out of her bag and opened it to his scribbled notes.

His handwriting was somewhere in between messy and neat; some of the words ran into one another and they were all slanted to the right slightly, yet the letters were beautifully constructed and entirely intelligible. Edmund also took it upon himself to highlight passages he deemed important with a note at the beginning that read: my sister had to take o chem. I asked her what’s important. That was sweet, Y/N thought.

It seemed as if Edmund knew what he was talking about, too. Each answer was answered completely with further background information to make it easy to understand. Why would you willingly take this? Seems like hell… was written in the margins next to one of the boxes of text. I could say the same about law, sweater boy.

By the time Y/N had finished her final, the three hours had turned into 10 minutes. She was one of three students left in the classroom and the other two were looking beyond panicked. Most of the class seemed to have either blazed through it like it was an 8-year-old’s math homework or given up halfway through and accepted their loss. Y/N, however, had to pass this class so she triple-checked her answers, took a daydream break, then checked it again. She would be lying if she said her daydreams didn’t consist of Edmund. She wondered if he would ever text her again.

The young girl hurriedly walked out of the classroom, happy to be done with the semester. She wrapped her jacket tightly around her and braced herself to brave the aggressive weather.

“Hey,” A voice from her right called out. It was Edmund; he was leaning against the wall lazily. His nose was a bright pink, as were his cheeks, and his hands were pushed into his pockets for warmth.

“Edmund? What are you doing here? You must be freezing!” Y/N walked over to him and looked him once over. A simple long sleeve shirt, vest, and jeans. Y/N slung her wool scarf around his neck.

“Oh, uh, thanks…” He pushed himself off of the wall with his shoulder. Damn, his shoulders were huge.

“I’m sorry about the coffee shop, I didn’t mean to jump you like that,” Y/N apologized bashfully. He smiled but it didn’t reach his eyes.

“No, I get it. I would have the same reaction. That’s, uh, why I’m here.” Edmund was awkward, looking anywhere but her eyes. Instead, he observed her freckles, eyebrows, and cheeks. “I was wondering if we could, uh, talk? Maybe somewhere private? Like my dorm?”

“Oh, so you want to take me, your newly discovered soulmate, back to your dorm?” Y/N had a hint of mischief in her eyes and a teasing smile on her lips. Edmund’s eyes grew wide and he started to sputter.

“That’s not what I meant! I would never! I mean unless you wanted to, but no! I just meant to talk,” His cheeks are red again, but this time it wasn’t from the cold.

“I’m just taking the piss, let’s go, vesty.”

Edmunds dorm was not what she was expecting. One side looked like it was hit by a tornado, but the other was very organized. Even on the floor, there was a distinct division between the two sides. The neat side, which appeared to be Edmund’s, was very plain. His bed was made with a red duvet and black pillows, his desk was blank besides a small pencil cup, and the cork board hanging above his desk had reminders and pictures.

“Those are my siblings,” Edmund noticed Y/N’s wandering eyes. “They’re practically dying to meet you, Y/N.”

“How did you know my name? I never told you,” She crossed her arms and strained her neck to look back at him.

“Ah, so I was right, you don’t remember me. We took a few classes together during first and second years. I always thought you were cute, so I guess it stuck.” Now it was Y/N’s turn to blush.

“You think I’m cute?” Her arms uncrossed and turned so she was facing him head-on.

“Well, yeah. You are my soulmate, after all, Y/N. Don’t be silly,” Edmund seemed to be growing more and more comfortable. He was enjoying watching her blush because of what he said; it made a sense of pride grow in his stomach. This was his person, and she was standing right in front of him.

“Speaking of soulmates…” Y/N trailed off and looked towards the floor. Her hands grasp the zipper of her jacket and unzip it, before rolling up the bottom of her shirt. The jagged scar was on full display, a stark contrast against the skin of her abdomen. Edmund eyed it guiltily; he knew the exact pain she had to go through to get that scar. She had to go through that pain because of him. His own hands found the bottom seam of his own clothes and pulled it up to reveal a matching mark.

“I can explain but you won’t believe me,” His honey-brown eyes met hers.

“Try me, Pevensie.”

He led her to sit on her bed and sat next to her. Y/N hastily kicked off her shoes so she could sit with her legs crossed on her bed. Her shoes tumbled to the ground with two thuds. Edmund, on the other hand, just bent one leg and let the other hang off the edge. He took her hands in his.

“You have to promise me to listen to it all before you ask questions,” Edmund fidgeted nervously with a ring on Y/N’s fingers as they spoke. Y/N didn’t know if this was on purpose or a subconscious action, but it comforted her all the same.

“Well, when I was young my parents sent my siblings and me to live away from home. When we were there, my little sister Lucy discovered a wardrobe in one of the spare rooms. Well, inside the wardrobe was this beautiful land called Narnia. It was gorgeous and huge! And when I say huge, I mean HUGE!” He caught himself rambling excitedly and reeled it back in. “Well, uh, anyway, there was this woman, we called her the White Witch and she manipulated me into basically selling my siblings out. The entire nation of Narnia got into a huge battle and the White Witch stabbed me.”

“Did she lock you up somewhere cold?” Y/N asked, disregarding her promise to stay quiet.

“Um, yeah. She locked me in this big ice cell. It wasn’t fun. I’m pretty sure I almost got frostbite but my body rejected it because I started warming up randomly.”

Y/N smiled. The paper towel.

“But that scar on your stomach,” He took his hand away from yours and gently touched your stomach. “Is because she stabbed me. But again, my sister Lucy had this special liquid that could heal any injury.”

Edmund seemed to smile at the memory. “Long story short, my siblings and I got crowned Kings and Queens of Narnia and ruled for a number of years. We then got sent back-”

“Wait, wait, wait, Kings, and Queens? Who are you? Alexander the Great?” Her tone was teasing and unbelieving.

“Edmund the Just, actually. And I told you to listen!” His smile reached his eyes this time. “Well we came back to earth through the wardrobe and we were kids again! About a year later, we returned to Narnia and met our good friend Caspian. We had to fight Caspian’s home country. In the end, Aslan helped us and Caspian became a king as well.”

“Who’s Aslan?” Y/N was doing her best to keep up and believe the information, but it was quite hard.

“He’s a big lion, he’s kind of like the ruler of Narnia. I guess you could say a God? I guess…”

“A big lion god? Edmund…”

“I know it sounds crazy, Y/N. I know but you have to believe me! I went one more time with Lucy and my cousin. We were on a big Naval ship with Caspian and we had to find a bunch of swords-”

“Edmund, love, just tell me the truth.” Y/N was sad that right off the bat her soulmate was lying to her. Edmund’s eyes seemed to lose their sparkle.

“I would never lie to you, Y/N. Here, look.” He took off Y/N’s scarf and gently placed it on the bed before pulling his vest and shirt over his head. On his rips was a beautifully drawn tattoo of a lion that appeared to be roaring. And on his collarbone was a sword. Y/N delicately reached her hand out and ran her fingertips against the drawing of the weapon. It had insane detail and the way it was drawn made it look sharp. Y/N retracted her hand and sat back.

“That’s one of the swords we found during my third trip. It was gifted to Caspian by the lord who owned it. And this is Aslan. His roar was the most powerful magic in all of Narnia.” Edmund searched Y/N’s face for any emotion she was feeling. Right now, she was staring at the sword with a pondering look on her face.

“Okay, say you were a king-”

“I am a king.”

“Fine, you’re a king. What exactly did you do, ya know, as a ruler?”

“Well, me and my brother Peter ran the army and trained them for battle. Along with other things like managing trade and creating political policies.”

“So, fighting? You fight?”

“Yeah, I fought in many battles, big and small. I got stabbed, remember.” His smile was cheeky and he pulled his long sleeve back on. “Once I got good, I didn’t even use a shield. I fought with two swords.”

“TWO? Aren’t those things heavy?”

“Well, yes, but when you went through all of the training I did, it gets easier.” Edmund could tell he was starting to believe him.

“Tell me more.”

The two spent the next few hours discussing the ins and outs of Narnia down to the floor plan of Cair Paravel. Y/N had decided that Edmund had way too much detail to be making it up, and even if he did, it was so magical that she wouldn’t even be mad.

“Okay, vesty, I believe you.” Y/N says after Edmund gave a lengthy explanation about all the gifts his siblings received and what they do. He stopped mid-word and stared at her.

“You believe me? Really?”

Y/N smiled and nodded. “Yes, Edmund. I’m going to be spending my life with you, your highness, so I may as well get familiar with it.”

“Please don’t call me that,” Edmund scooted closer to her. “I hated it even when people in Narnia called me that. I don’t need people outside of Narnia calling me it. Especially not you.”

She turned her head so she was staring right at him. “Why not me?” Y/N’s speech came out as a whisper. They were so close that she didn’t need to speak loudly.

“Because if I really was your highness, it would be kind of weird for me to do this.”

Edmund placed a hand on Y/N’s jaw and leaned in. His lips barely brushed her lips before pressing firmly against them. Y/N’s eyes closed shut and she happily kissed back.

When people described kissing their soulmate for the first time, they always explain it as an electric spark igniting throughout their entire body. They explain it as a firework show full of magnificent colors. Kissing Edmund didn’t feel like that. Kissing Edmund felt like home. She felt safe, secure, and loved as if kissing this boy was what she was meant to do for her entire life. The way he tasted, like peppermint and candy, was the best thing she had ever tasted. And they way he held her, one hand on her jaw and the other holding her close to him by her waist, felt like the warmth of a favorite blanket. The way he moved made her knees feel like jelly.

As their lip lock continued, his fingertips danced across her back until it landed on the other side of her jaw. He pulled away from their kiss, pressing a quick peck against her nose and jaw before leaning against his headboard.

“I’ve been wanting to do that for my entire life,” Y/N said, her voice gentle and soft.

“Me too. The thought of kissing you, Y/N L/N, was the only thing that got me through some tough times. I had to make it to be able to feel what it was like.”

Y/N was silent for a long moment.

“Edmund, love, do you think I will ever go to Narnia?”

Edmund looked at her for a long moment then smiled with half of his mouth.

“I don’t know, darling, but anything is possible. Especially when it comes to Narnia.”

#edmund pevensie #edmund pevensie x reader #edmund x reader #edmund pevensie fanfic #edmund pevensie fanfiction #the chronicles of narnia #the chronicles of narnia fanfic #the chronicles of narnia fanfiction #narnia

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toomanyrobins2 · 3 years

Text

One Year: November

Summary: Clint Barton, college football star, has a new interest: Y/N Y/L/N. But with her father gone all of the time, a younger brother, and going to college, Y/N has no time for dating. Will Clint get the yes, or will life get in the way?

Pairing: Clint Barton x Reader

Word Count: 3.3k

Content warning: nothing really yet, occasional cursing, mentions of drinking and sex later

Notes: I'm sorry to anyone who's been tagged in this before, but I've been forced to start from scratch on this account and I'm going to be reposting all the chapters

october // masterlist // football game

Y/N had brought Asher over to the Barnes’ for a playdate. It seemed that the stomach bug that had ravaged their class was gone. Every parent was glad to see it go with Thanksgiving in a couple weeks. Y/N sat in the kitchen with Winnie. Bucky’s mother was famous for taking in strays from the football team and now it seemed she had selected Y/N as her newest one. She poured the young girl a cup of coffee and asked if her father had been around recently. Y/N nodded and explained he’d been in town for a meeting with some investors, but had left two days after. Winnie smiled tightly. She knew that Y/N was raising her younger sibling and it made her angry to see the weight the young woman carried around. The young woman was notoriously tight-lipped about the situation, so she switched to safer topics, “How’s the planning for Asher’s birthday going?”

Y/N tensed at the question, “No one is going to come other than Becca and Morgan Stark. Those damned PTA moms,” She dropped her head to the countertop, “God, I’m so bad at this.”

“Oh, sweetheart,” Winnie patted her head, “You’re 20 and you’ve been doing great so far. It’s not your fault the moms at the school are awful.”

“What am I going to do? I’m already stressed out about this and with a football-themed birthday party I’m doomed.”

Clint and Bucky had just stopped by the house and headed straight for the kitchen. They caught the tail end of the conversation and the blond perked up at the idea of helping Y/N, “Football birthday? I can help with that.”

“You can?” He glared at Bucky, who suddenly realized and nodded, “Oh yeah, we can help.”

Y/N smiled softly and waved a hand, telling them they didn’t have to. “It’s no problem,” Clint sat on the counter next to her, “What do you need to know?” Winnie and Bucky shared a look. She has raised some good boys and could tell that Clint was trying everything to get Y/N to notice him. She offered to go check on the kids and give them some space to plan. She grabbed Bucky’s arm, dragging him with her on the way out.

Clint sat next to Y/N at the table and could see that she was struggling. She refused to meet his eyes, instead of staring at her coffee as it swirled, “No one is going to come to Asher’s birthday on Saturday and I don't know what to do. I feel like such a failure,” the tears started to form in her eyes.

He didn’t know how to deal with tears and tried to make them stop, “Why doesn’t the team come? We can play football with the kids, and I’ll force them to bring presents.” She finally looked up at him and it broke his heart to see her this way. Her eyes shone with unshed tears and her nose was red from the cold. It blew him away that he hadn’t noticed Y/N before this year. She couldn’t believe that he would offer this. Y/N asked him if he was sure and he nodded enthusiastically, “Yeah, they would totally be into that. They all love Becca and we work with a bunch of kiddie teams.” Clint saw that she was getting emotional again. He wrapped his arms around her, hugging her tight. For the first time, it didn’t seem like she wanted to run in the opposite direction when he was near. Y/N wrapped her arms around his waist and let his presence comfort her. Clint looked up and made eye contact with Bucky, who was giving him two thumbs up and gyrated his hips before Winnie came by and smacked him upside the head.

Y/N got up earlier than usual on Saturday. She always was an early riser, since it was the only time she had to herself. Most mornings, she would sit outside with her coffee and take in the silence. Sometimes, Nat would join her and they would use that time to catch up on the little things. This morning was different, the redhead was still out and Y/N got straight to work hanging up decorations. She had started to make breakfast when she heard a soft knock at the door.

The shock on her face made Clint chuckle when she opened the door. “What are you doing here?”

“I’m going to chalk that rude greeting up to the fact that you haven’t had coffee. Which is why I brought this,” Clint brought a tray out from behind his back with a flourish. “Winnie always gets up early for birthdays and I figured you’d be doing the same.”

“Oh, I love you,” Y/N took one look at Clint and clarified, pointing down at the cup, “I meant the coffee.” He passed her a cup, sneaking a kiss on her cheek in greeting, and walked into the house towards the kitchen. Y/N stood frozen for a moment, the feeling on his lips burning her cheek. She took a sip of coffee to calm herself. Her head shot back in confusion and took another tentative sip and then stared up at him, “Should I be scared that you know how I take my coffee?”

“Let’s not focus on that. Just say thank you and move on,” Clint sat on one of the barstools, sipping his coffee. “So, how can I help?” Y/N directed him to start blowing up balloons that she hadn’t had a chance to finish. Her mind wandered and she nearly jumped out of her skin when Clint leaned over her. She blushed at how close he was to her. “Are those Mickey Mouse pancakes?”

He had backed them against the counter, forcing Y/N to turn and meet his gaze. She looked up at him, “They are a special occasion breakfast in this house. Every birthday and every holiday.” Clint smiled down at her and couldn't help but admire how bright her eyes were. Y/N turned back around when she realized how close they were standing and cleared her throat, “Nat should be coming by soon and she can tell you where to put things. She’ll like to boss you around.”

The two of them joked around as they worked. Once he had finished the balloons, Clint came back into the kitchen and started stealing sips of Y/N’s coffee since he’d finished his. She threatened him with the spatula when she caught him the first time, but pretended she hadn’t after that. She liked that he kept stealing glances at her each time before he took a sip. His hand crept towards the stack of pancakes and this time, Y/N whirled around to stop him. Clint grabbed her hand and spun her around, their laughter filling the kitchen. He pulled her close, but they were interrupted by the front door flying open. “Who’s ready to party up in this bitch!” Nat turned and saw Clint and Y/N and how close they were standing. The smirk that grew on her friend’s face had Y/N groan; Nat was going to be incorrigible, “I have to admit Barton, you were not who I expected to be in the kitchen this morning.”

Clint just smirked at the redhead, “How was Barnes?”

Nat smirked, “Satisfied.”

Y/N groaned and threw her hands up, “Natasha, no! Go upstairs and shower before the kiddo wakes up!” The redhead gave her a look that told her this conversation was not over and skipped off to get ready.

It didn’t take long before Asher was rushing down the stairs and waved quickly at Clint before flying into Y/N’s arms, “It’s my birthday!”

“It is!” Y/N faked surprise, “What am I going to do? I completely forgot!”

“No, you didn’t!” She had hoisted him up and he pointed over her shoulder, “I see the pancakes.”

Y/N laughed, “Alright, you caught me. I’d never forget your birthday.”

While the two siblings were occupied, Nat came back down, hair wet, and sins from the night washed away. Soon the four of them were sitting down for breakfast. He sat back and watched the dynamic of the little family. Asher was perfectly comfortable around his sister. He listened to her like she was a parent. If he was being honest, she was his mom. Y/N was at every school event, cared for him when he was sick, and stressed about having the best birthday possible. Y/N was everything he had wished Barney would’ve been for him when their parents passed. Of course, the situation wasn’t entirely the same, the Y/L/N kids had a father. A very wealthy, but absent father, from what Winnie had told him. Clint just couldn’t stop admiring Y/N. Not only did he think she was beautiful, but she was this bright light that was affectionate and intelligent.

While he was distracted, Nat watched the blond stare at her best friend. She nodded to herself, Clint Barton had never been someone she imagined for Y/N, but he was proving her wrong. She deserved someone dependable and loving, who would take the sibling duo as a packaged deal and not an inconvenient tag-along. She had never expected anyone from their football team to step up, and yet here he was, at home before she was, helping Y/N. He had arranged for the football team to come to Asher’s party so he could have a good party. Bucky had been telling her that Clint was like a new person and it was for the better. Maybe they both needed each other more than either knew.

When breakfast was finished, they had gathered on the couch while Asher opened his presents from the family. Y/N had asked Clint if he wanted to give his present now, but he shook his head, mischief gleaming in his eyes. She leaned back on the couch and Clint slung his arm over his shoulder. His fingers traced her shoulder, leaving goosebumps on his wake. She turned to look at him and he smiled, “Is this okay?” Y/N bit her lip and nodded, turning her attention back to Asher, who was showing her the gifts. Nat was shaking her head and smiling at her oblivious friend. She knew that Y/N had told Clint she didn’t have time to date, but everything seemed to be changing.

After the excitement, Y/N convinced Asher to take a nap before everyone showed up. It had taken a lot of back-and-forths and some mild bribery, but she did it. After they were sure he was out, the three of them got to work. In under an hour, they had the entire house decorated, the pizza delivered, and the firepit set up outside. It wasn’t long before the Barnes and Stark families showed up with the team. Y/N had been nervous about meeting the team, but everyone was so nice. Asher was hesitant of all the strangers at first, but when he found out that they were a football team and they had come to play with him: it was the best day after. Y/N couldn’t keep the smile off her face at how excited her little brother was. It was never what she would’ve planned, but it was worth it all to see how happy everyone was.

They went into the back and set up a small football field and Y/N was blown away. Clint walked up behind her as she watched the team work and play with the kids, “So what do you think?”

“I think I was very wrong about the team,” Y/N turned to look at him, “And you," she put a hand on his chest, pushing back the thoughts of how nice the muscle felt underneath her fingers, "I’m sorry. This is so much more I could ask for Asher.”

Clint shrugged, “I didn’t just do this for him. Now, come on. Time for you to learn how to play.” Y/N tried to stop him, but he threw her over his shoulder, carrying her down to everyone else. She was laughing the whole way down to the makeshift field. They played a few games until the kids started calling for pizza. Everyone went inside and sat around the house. Y/N had never seen so much life in the house and while it was overwhelming, it made her so happy to see it.

Once all of the pizza was put away, Y/N went into the kitchen to pull the cake out. Everyone sang Happy Birthday and she slid the cake in front of him, “Okay, Birthday Boy, make your wish!”

Asher took a deep breath, “I wish that dad was here so that Y/N could play more.” He blew out the candles, oblivious to the bomb he had dropped. Y/N clapped when the last one went out, pretending that she didn’t have guilt the size of a boulder weighing down her chest and hurt reflecting in her eyes. Everyone shared a look but tried to pretend everything was fine. Clint and Bucky had given them a brief explanation to the team about Y/N and Asher and they all knew that this wish was a hard pill to swallow.

“I left the plates inside, I'll be back in a second,” Y/N leaned down and kissed Asher's forehead, “No sneaking icing while I’m gone.” She rushed into the kitchen and closed the door behind her. She opened the cabinet to grab the paper plates and plastic forks. In her distracted state, she jammed her finger, “FUCK!” She brought her hand up to her face and felt the tears start to spill down her cheeks. A hand on her shoulder made her jump. Bucky had been the one to go after her, and Y/N quickly wiped the tears away, “I’m so sorry he said that in front of you guys.”

“Hey, it’s okay. You stay right here and do whatever you need to do to calm down. I’m gonna bring the plates out and I’ll be back.”

Bucky handed off the plates to Steve. Clint went to walk towards the kitchen, but Bucky stopped him, “Let me talk to her.” He walked back in and Y/N was where he had left her in the kitchen. He got her a glass of water, “You know, my dad bailed pretty soon after Becca was born. She doesn’t know any different, but I can remember a time when it wasn’t just my mom. She was an adult and did what you do now. You're a super badass and even your brother thinks so.” Y/N scoffed, but Bucky wasn’t going to let her become a ball of self-pity, “His wish wasn’t for your dad to be around because he misses him. He wished your dad was around so that you could be together more. Even at 6, he can see how much you give up to be there for him. Don’t cry over this, feel proud that you’ve raised such an awesome kid.”

Y/N smiled and wiped away the last of her tears, “Who knew Bucky Barnes was such a softie. You definitely have my approval to date Nat now.”

He laughed and gave her a hug, “Come on let’s go eat cake and open presents. The guys and I got him some awesome stuff.”

“You guys actually bought him presents?”

“Of course we did. What person shows up to a party without presents?” The two of them went back out to join the party and no one commented on Y/N’s red-rimmed eyes.

Nat came over and checked on her. The redhead laughed when Y/N told her that she had picked a good one and should marry Bucky. Clint walked over to them and let Y/N tuck herself into his side.

Pepper had dished out of the cake and Asher, Becca, and Morgan were covered in blue frosting, “Bath time is going to be interesting tonight.”

“We could always spray them off with a hose,” Tony passed Y/N a plate. The trio cheered and asked if they could do that.

Y/N shrugged, “I can’t think of a reason we shouldn’t do that later.” The kids cheered again and finished off their cakes. Clint kept stealing bites of her cake and she had to ask, “Is it just my stuff you like to take, or are you like this everyone.”

“Just you,” he reached down and wiped icing off her cheek. Her face grew warm and she could feel people watching them

Y/N pulled away and clapped her hands, “Present time!” Everyone went out back and sat around the firepit on the couches and bean bags. They passed around blankets as Asher sat next to Y/N on the center couch. The guys all brought out their gifts and Y/N felt herself getting emotional at the generosity. Surprisingly, all the gifts were age-appropriate.

Clint had an arm across the back of the couch and was playing with the ends of her hair. He tugged on them and she leaned closer so that he could whisper in her ear, “Pepper brought them on a shopping trip.”

A massive grin spread across Y/N’s face and she leaned closer to him, “I would’ve paid good money to watch that group in the toy section.”

Clint flashed a proud smile, “We nearly got thrown out.” She threw her head back and laughed. In their little bubble, they didn't notice that everyone was watching them. They all smirked at each other at the obvious attraction. When it was Clint's turn to give Asher his present, he kept one hand on Y/N’s thigh and squeezed, worried that it wasn’t enough. Inside the bag was a jersey for their college team with Asher’s name on it. “I talked to Coach Fury and he’s going to let you be his assistant coach at our next game. That means you get to hang out on the sidelines the whole game.” Asher’s eye grew wide and he flung himself across Y/N’s legs to hug Clint. The trio fell back in a pile of laughter. Clint managed to keep them upright and was talking to Asher as he thanked him over and over.

While the two were distracted, Nat leaned over, “I bet Clint would love it if you showed up in his jersey at the next game.”

Y/N smirked, “Could you get me one?”

“I’ll ask Bucky,” Nat winked at her.

After everyone’s gifts had been opened, Asher threw his new jersey on and they started up a new game, this time with Tony joining.

Y/N was surprised when Clint dragged her onto one of the bean bags instead of the game, “Don’t you have a game to play.”

“They have even numbers right now. I’d hate to throw off the game.” They watched as the guys picked the kids up and ran across the backyard with them thrown over their shoulders.

“Mhmm, they clearly are following all the rules.”

“Plus, I’m comfy,” he wrapped an arm around Y/N’s waist and fell back, dragging her with him.

Pepper was watching them and turned to Winnie, “They are adorable.”

Winnie smiled, “Aren’t they just? Clint just needs to actually ask Y/N out. I told him I’d babysit Asher so that they could go, but he still hasn’t done it. It. Is. Killing. Me. And then I’ve got Bucky and Y/N’s friend, Natasha.” The two women turned and watched him fireman carry the aforementioned redhead down the field. Winnie shook her head, “I’m thinking of asking them to have Thanksgiving and Christmas with us. The idea of them alone in this big house breaks my heart.”

“You’re going to have a full house for the holidays. The girls are good for them. They seem much happier, Clint especially.”

Winnie was beaming, “It is like night and day. When Barney was deployed, he was so lonely. Now he reminds me of that kid from Pee-Wee football. He’s lost so much and I was worried he’d always live under the cloud of it.” They were interrupted as everyone cheered when Asher scored a touchdown, doing a little dance at one end of the yard. Things were looking up for everyone and their family was growing.

*********************************

@be-patient-be-good

@spntiel

#clint barton #hawkeye #clint barton imagine #avengers imagine #mcu imagine #avengers #clint barton x reader #hawkeye x reader #avengers au #avengers x reader #college au #toomanyrobins

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isitgintimeyet · 4 years

Text

Just a Friend

Hope you enjoy the next chapter of this story. Thanks to you all for reading this. You comments are lovely to read.

Thanks to @wickedgoodbooks for the beta

AO3

Chapter 5: From Facebook to Friends

When I was a little girl, Uncle Lamb would sometimes take me into university with him. I would creep into the lecture theatre and sit at the back watching him as he enthused about Phoenician trade routes, or long gone military strategies. I didn’t really understand what he was talking about, but I loved it anyway. The passion he had for his subject matter thrilled me.

And once the lecture was over, I would join him in his office and we would squeeze together in an old armchair, drinking hot, sweet tea while he tried to explain the principles of a three thousand year old civilisation in words a seven year old would understand.

The armchair is now in my office at the hospital. It looks more than a bit incongruous amongst the standard NHS furniture. The rich green velvet fabric has faded to a shabby eau de nil colour and years of shuffling bottoms have left a large depression in the seat cushion. But I won’t have it reupholstered. I love it as it is. It’s a great reminder of my wonderful uncle. I sit in it and somehow it comforts me, like a soothing hug.

**********************

I glance at the clock as I walk into my office, paper cup of hot, sweet tea in hand, and head straight for Lamb’s chair. Gratefully, I sink into its depths and take a tentative sip of the steaming liquid before closing my eyes for a moment. The surgery was long; much longer than anticipated—having taken all morning and most of the afternoon, in fact. It had also been far more complicated—my original plans for keyhole surgery had to be changed, but, eventually, we completed the operation successfully. I’m always proud of my theatre team, but never more so than in situations like this.

And now, after hours of concentration, I feel in need of some light relief. I can go home, have a wonderfully reviving shower and then what? I know that Dougal is taking Geillis out for a meal tonight, so she’s not available. Mary and Anna are both working nights this week, so no joy there. Other friends live too far away for an impromptu midweek activity. I could go to the gym. I should go to the gym. Or… more likely, I’ll go home, have cheese on toast, a glass of wine and watch ‘The Devil Wears Prada’ for the fifteenth time instead.

I reach for my phone to check for messages. A notification for a Facebook friend request appears on my screen. I very rarely get new friend requests—other than the odd random gentleman hoping, I presume, to make some sort of connection. I always delete immediately.

And, yes, the request is from a gentleman—one Jamie Fraser. The profile picture is definitely Samsonite Jamie, even wearing the Scotland rugby shirt I fingered whilst foraging through his suitcase. I click accept. Why not? I don’t think I have anything too embarrassing on my posts. In fact, I don’t use it very often at all.

Neither, it seems, does Mr. Fraser. His cover photo shows a very youthful bunch of Scottish rugby supporters and his recent timeline seems to comprise mostly of being tagged in photos by Laoghaire Mackenzie. Is it my imagination, or does he have a resigned look on his face on each of their ‘selfies’?

My tea is cool enough to drink now without scalding my tongue. I put my phone down and take a large gulp whilst considering tomorrow’s workload. My job is a series of highs and lows. Today, for example, started as routine, slumped to a worrying low, before peaking at a very relieved high. Tomorrow appears to be an easier day, certainly—a review of patients’ case notes in the morning followed by an outpatient clinic in the afternoon. All follow up patients, and all doing well as far as I know, so tomorrow is shaping up to be a very good day.

I open up my phone again. Facebook messenger is encouraging me to ‘say hi to your new Facebook friend.’ Without thinking, I send a little waving hand emoji to Samsonite Jamie.

I have no sooner put the phone down than it pings. Waving hand returned. I smile. What are we… thirteen years old? Next I’ll be asking him out for an Irn Bru and a bag of chips.

Ping again.

You owe me…

Shit! The stain on his t-shirt, no doubt. I watch the dots on the screen. Perhaps he’s calculating the cost of a dry cleaner, or a new t-shirt.

You promised me an ice cream.

You up for buying one for me tonight?

I hesitate for a moment. I hope Jamie doesn’t think I’m after him or anything like that. I mean, he’s not really my type. As I’ve said before, I’ve always been attracted to academic, cerebral kind of men like Uncle Lamb, rather than Viking marauders.

And I’ve never subscribed to the idea that men and women can’t be friends. One of my closest friends at university was a man—Joe Abernathy. If it wasn't for the fact that he is currently three thousand miles away, working in Boston, I would be arranging platonic ice cream outings with him.

So, deciding I have nothing to lose, I type my response.

If you can get to the kiosk by 6:30, it should still be open

A brief pause, then the response.

Great. See you there?

****************

Even at a distance, I recognise him sitting at a table next to the kiosk. No white t-shirt today, it looks like some sort of check lumberjack shirt. I breathe a sigh of relief. Not what I would call ‘first date’ clothing. Which is handy, seeing as I’m wearing ripped jeans and an oversized Aran jumper. I’m clean, presentable and fresh-smelling but definitely not dressed to impress.

He stands up when he sees me and greets me formally with a handshake. His hands are warm and dry—no nervous, sweaty palms here, which is another good sign. His shirt is blue, red and cream flannel and actually quite hideous.

“I hope this ice cream lives up tae ma expectations,” he says with the merest hint of challenge.

I crane my neck and look him straight in the eye. “No doubt at all. Cherry bakewell, is it? Double cone?”

“Aye. With a flake too. Compensation, ye ken.”

He stands aside to allow me to make the purchases. Before accepting the cone, he picks up half a dozen or so paper napkins and stuffs them in the pocket of his jeans.

“I’m prepared fer ye now. Do yer worst, Ms Beauchamp.”

I ignore his clear inference and follow him to a nearby bench.

“I can manage to eat and walk at the same time, you know,” I say in mock indignation.

“Hm,” he replies. “All the evidence sae far suggests the contrary. I need proof afore I believe it.”

There’s a moment of silence as we both focus on our ice creams. I lick neatly all the way around, trying to prevent any rogue drips trickling down the cone. Jamie pulls the flake from his cone and consumes it in two mouthfuls. He looks at me and laughs.

“Caught me. I’m a bit of a bugger fer chocolate,” he mumbles before swallowing.

“Right,” he continues, much more clearly now. “I suggest we get all the boring stuff out of the way. Ye ken, name, age, family, job, blah, blah blah. I’ll go first, if ye like.”

I nod my agreement.

“Sae, I’m James or Jamie Fraser. I’m thirty years old. Since our last conversation I am most definitely single. I live in Glasgow, obviously, but grew up on a farm near Inverness. My parents still run the farm. I have one sister, Jenny, who’s married tae Ian, my childhood friend. I have one nephew—a grand little lad known as Wee Jamie and a wee baby niece, Maggie . And I dinna think it’ll be long afore they’re joined by others. They all live here in Glasgow. My job, weel, I have a business—FraserFood—recipe boxes delivered tae yer door.”

“Oh, yes, I’ve heard of that. ‘From farm to fork.” That’s you, is it?”

He smiles proudly. “Aye, it’s me and ma family. Looks like ma marketing manager is doing a fine job, then.”

“Oh, forgot tae say, after the blah blah, ye have tae tell one confession. Only a wee one, mind.” He takes a large mouthful of his ice cream.

I purse my lips. “Really, and what if I’ve nothing to confess?”

Jamie snorts with laughter and does a funny sort of blink, screwing up his face and closing both eyes. Is he trying to wink? If so, he’s failing miserably. I try to look angelic and sin free. Judging by the look of scepticism on his face, It doesn’t seem to be working.

“Sae, my confession is, dah-dah-daaaah,” he does a fake fanfare, trying to build suspense. “I wanted tae be yer friend on Facebook because I wanted tae see if there were any photos of ye in Barcelona, with all yer...er… accessories.”

I feel myself redden. I’ve just remembered catching Geillis on Facebook the other day at work and I’m pretty sure I know what’s coming next.

“Verra interesting… in particular, the one with ye and six penis shot glasses. How d’ye manage tae get two of them in yer mouth at the same time?”

I inwardly curse Geillis and her desire to live her life through social media.

“Excuse me,” I reply somewhat primly. “I don’t think we’re at the Q and A stage yet.”

“So,” I continue in a lighter tone. “Me. Claire Elizabeth Beauchamp. I’m thirty two and I’m a paediatric orthopaedic surgeon, here at the children’s hospital. I love my job so much, I can’t begin to tell you. As of two weeks ago, I am thankfully single. I was born in Oxford and moved up here when I was twelve, when my Uncle Lamb became a professor at the university. He brought me up, you know. Raised me when my parents died in a car accident... I… er...I was four at the time.”

I can feel Jamie looking at me, but I can’t raise my eyes. Telling people about my parents never gets any easier, no matter how many times I say those words. I concentrate on picking bits of wafer off my cone and throwing them to the ducks loitering nearby, waiting for some sort of treat.

“So it always was just my uncle and me.” I carry on talking. “Then he died… seven...seven years ago…” I can hear my voice start to crack as I fight back tears. A hand creeps into my vision and I gratefully accept the proffered paper napkin and wipe my face.

“Och, lass.” He says softly.

I clear my throat. “I'm sorry. We were having a nice conversation and then there I go, getting all teary. It’s just, well, we were a team, Uncle Lamb and I… the two musketeers. He was my hero.”

Blowing my nose in a most unladylike way, I toss the napkin into the neighbouring bin.

“And that’s pretty much me. As for a confession, well… I suppose it’s kind of one.”

He raises one eyebrow quizzically, making a better job of that than the whole winking lark, I think.

"Ok, well, when I had your case, I tried to ring before I emailed you. I called the number in your case… twice. A woman answered and told me I had the wrong number—"

"Laoghaire."

"I know that now. But she obviously knew how to get onto your phone."

"Why did ye no' tell me?" He smiles as he says this. It's not a reprimand.

"I would have but you seemed to be coming to a conclusion anyway. No need to add more fuel to the fire."

"Happen ye're right."

He notices me shivering and gets to his feet. “Aye, there’s a bit of a chill. Fancy a wee walk tae warm up and we can carry on wi’ round two. It’s a quick fire round.”

I stand up and we move away from the pond. The ducks have already lost interest in us since they realise that we’ve nothing more to offer them. It’s pretty quiet in the park now, the cooler evening air seems to have kept people at home. The gravel crunching loudly under the soles of our shoes, I glance down and notice Jamie’s doing a sort of awkward stuttering movement with his feet. He’s clearly trying to match his stride pattern to mine. Which isn’t easy when his must be a good few inches longer than mine. Nice, considerate gesture, though.

“Sae, quick fire questions and answers. Ye can go first,” he says generously.

It only takes me a moment to think of a question that I have been wondering about ever since I explored the contents of his suitcase.

“What were you doing in Barcelona? I mean the contents of your case weren’t really fun-weekend-away stuff.”

“Nah, ye’re right. It wasna a holiday—flying visit only. I was there on business—talking tae a food wholesale company. Serrano ham, chorizo, saffron, that kind of thing,” he explains, a look of excitement on his face. “We’re expanding our range, starting with Spanish influenced recipes. A full three courses ready tae prepare, plus wine delivered straight tae yer door. Dinner party FraserFood style.”

He can’t stop smiling as he talks about these plans. And his hands move animatedly as he continues to elaborate on his new venture. His business is obviously his passion. Maybe that’s why he hasn’t got the desire for a relationship with a girlfriend—FraserFood seems to be his one love. No girl could compete.

He stops talking for a moment. “And here I am, boring ye.”

I shake my head. “Not at all, it’s really interesting.” I don’t have to lie. It’s the truth. My mouth is watering at his description of albondigas and flavoursome chicken and chorizo with cannellini beans. I’m ready to sign up for this delivery service any time.

“Sae, ma turn tae ask a question. Tell me, d’ye like this shirt?”

I try to stifle a laugh. The question is so unexpected and the shirt so awful. Trying to be diplomatic, I search for the right words, evading the actual question. “I’ve only seen you in white tops before, no colours.”

He sighs. “Ye’ve only seen me twice afore... anyway I dinna think ye need tae say any more. I ken ye’re being polite, but ye’re a terrible liar. I can tell by yer face ye dinna like this shirt. Laoghaire hated it, always made me change it. I did wonder if that was jes’ her being difficult. But apparently no’.”

“Sorry, I didn’t want to be rude.”

“Ye dinna need tae apologise, Claire. Being honest is a good thing, is it no’? And friends should always tell each other the truth. And that’s what I think we’re going tae be, Claire— friends. D’ye no’ agree?”

I crane my neck and look Jamie straight in the eye. “Yes, I do… friends.”

#outlander fanfiction #outlander fanfic #Just a Friend #Jamie Fraser #Claire Beauchamp #Chapter 5

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re-diesirae · 3 years

Text

13. Chris

Irritation was beyond what Chris was currently feeling. He and the Alpha team had been preparing to leave for Leon's location point when the second wave of B.O.W.s attacked the city. The emergency call required their immediate response, and the Alpha team's departure was pushed back, much to Chris dismay. His sister was somewhere in the middle of nowhere at the other side of the planet, most likely in great danger, and the damn mutants were preventing him from going to her rescue.

The second wave of attacks was on a bigger scale than the first one, but with the civilians evacuated, B.S.A.A had received permission to use any force necessary to stop the attackers. The city got engulfed in a sea of fire and destruction that brought him a bunch of bad memories, and what he hated the most was that his little sister would return to find her home destroyed.

"Fuck those terrorists," Barry's annoyed growl sounded somewhere close to his side. They had barricaded themselves in a building as they shot a horde of j'avo that had decided to open fire on them, "Can't I just throw them a grenade and end with their pathetic zombie asses?"

"More like mutant, insect asses, Barry," Jill corrected him.

"Who cares? It is all the same to me..."

"What's our status?" Chris groaned as he replaced the cartridge of his machine gun.

"Surrounded. These bastards won't give us a break," Jill replied.

"Have they ever done such a thing?" Barry spitted in annoyance.

"Get down...I'm using one of these."

Following a previous suggestion from Barry, Chris pulled off one of the grenade's security locks and threw it against the j'avos. The thing exploded, sending the foes flying in pieces.

"Well, that surely worked," Jill approved.

"Yeah, why didn't we do that from the beginning?" Barry growled.

Chris was about to articulate a response to that when the sizzling of his radio interrupted him in mid-sentence.

"HQ to Redfield, do you copy?"

"Redfield here."

"Redfield, a large scale B.O.W has been spotted north from your position. We sent the Betta team to size it, but we lost contact with them 10 minutes ago. We need you and Alpha Team to check on the situation."

"Understood. We will take a look. Redfield out."

Chris pushed his radio back into his utility belt and turned to the rest of the team. Barry looked at him and shook his head grumpily.

"So we get to do babysitting, huh?" Barry sighed, "Soldiers these days are useless."

"You sound like a cranky old man, Barry..." Jill teased.

"I'm stating a fact. I don't remember our men being such a joke when we started at this..."

"Not everyone can be like you or Chris, Barry."

"I should suggest some new training plans when this shit is over..."

" I am sure there are a lot of things we can do when this shit is over. For now, let's deal with this crap first. I still got to get Claire back."

"Relax, big brother. Claire is a tough cookie who knows how to take care of herself. The girl has survived three zombie apocalypses" Barry chuckled, "She might even be tougher than you despite being a girl."

"Hey, don't underestimate a woman," Jill smirked, faking an offended glare.

"Of course, I do not. Don't forget that I live surrounded by four. I am always on the losing side..."

Jill laughed, imagining how life in the Burton house probably was.

"Either way, Barry is right, Claire won't die so easily, she's a Redfield, and Redfields are hard to kill."

"And don't forget Kennedy is with her," Jill added.

"Yeah, I bet Kennedy will take care of her," Barry nodded, "So let's focus on cleaning up the city, shall we?"

"Huh," Jill snorted, "When Claire comes back and finds this mess, she won't be too happy with you, Chris."

Chris snorted. He could picture Claire's pissed look as she complained about him rushing to rescue her and leaving her beloved city at the mercy of a B.O.W. attack. Jill was right, Claire would be angry at him, and he knew better than to provoke his little sister's fury.

"Well then, let's clean up this city. If there is anything I fear in this world, that is Claire when she's angry."

He wasn't lying, and he found it amusing. He could face a war, survive a zombie apocalypse, fight horrifying mutants, and yet, Chris couldn't stand his sister's glare, tears, or anything she did to persuade him. Barry had always laughed, saying that he had a sister complex, but more than a sister complex, it was a soft spot for her. She was his baby-sister no matter how old she grew, and she had certain privileges that no one else in the world would ever get from him.

"Heh, I wonder how scary can the little Redfield be if she can make the almighty Chris Redfield scared., Barry laughed, "Is she that scary? I've never seen her mad."

"That's because she's the sort of woman who wouldn't get mad unless you did something truly despicable," Chris commented.

"Ow...and what exactly did you do to anger her?" Jill asked curiously.

"I am her brother. I am an exception. She always gets mad at me at the minimal thing," he said as he shot a couple of mutated j'avos that had been chasing them.

"So, you get the privilege to feel her anger for small things," Barry asked, shooting another group of infected, "I don't envy you at all, pal, and wait till you get married. Your wife will team up with Claire and make you miserable. I know what I tell you. When my girls team up against me, it is worse than fighting off zombies."

Chris wondered about that. He couldn't imagine how bad that would be, and he heard Jill amused laugh.

"This might be the first time I'll see Chris scared at all."

The two soldiers broke into a fit of laughter, and Chris rolled his eyes.

"You two….stop it already." Chris growled grumpily, "Focus on the mission!"

"Well, excuse me for trying to lighten the mood," Barry said with a chuckle," "I think this is the place," Jill said, checking her intel.

Chris looked around. The place was deadly quiet, and there were no signs of the soldiers or zombies. He signaled Jill and Barry to be alert, and both of them nodded as they took a position with their weapons ready. Chris walked into the place, looking around with his gun raised. So far, there were no signs of the B.O.W., but he noticed something lying a couple of feet from him.

"Redfield here. I've found the members of Team Betta. The situation is bad. I'll look for survivors."

"Understood, be careful, team Alpha."

Chris walked cautiously around the bodies, feeling disgusted. It looked like a slaughterhouse; something had torn the soldiers into pieces, and their body parts laid scattered all over the place. It was a massacre and a horrendous one. Chris was sad to say it, but he doubted that there were any survivors from Team Betta.

"Chris, watch out!" Jill's voice shouted out of sudden.

Chris turned around in time to dodge a reddish blur that jumped over him. The man rolled over his side and got back up with his gun raised. He shot the B.O.W. that had just attacked him, and he could hear Barry and Jill shooting, too.

"Watch out! I think this thing might be the one who slaughtered the whole Betta team."

The creature roared and vanished into the surrounding darkness.

"What the fuck is that thing?" Barry growled.

"I have no idea," Chris said, reloading his gun, "but I don't think it is good news. Alpha Team to HQ, do you copy?"

"This is HQ. We hear you, Alpha Team."

"We have a situation," Chris said, aiming his gun. He could hear something moving around them, but he could not see it. "Unknown B.O.W. Most-likely, the one responsible for Betta Team's slaughter. Requesting back-up."

"Copied. Hang on in there, Alpha team."

There was a screech, and the red blur jumped out of the shadows, trying to tackle them. The trio rolled over and evaded it.

"What the fuck?" Barry said, shooting.

Chris had no idea what it was, either. The creature in front of them was something they had never encountered before. It looked like a giant meaty caterpillar with four long paws that ended in curling tentacles. There was a long slash on its face, filled by long yellowish fangs. The drool was dripping disgustingly from it. The three of them were shooting endless at it as the thing jumped from a wall to the other, roaring.

The trio rolled over the ground dodging the whipping tentacles. The creature, despite lacking eyes, was easily tracking their movements. Chris had showered the meaty body with a wave of bullets, but the thing didn't seem to be affected. The creature roared once more, showing the second row of yellow fangs and a bifid black tongue.

"What an ugly face. Makes me wanna punch it."

"You are welcome to blow it up, Barry," Jill said.

"Heh..thought you'd never say it."

Barry pulled out one of his grenades and threw it into the B.O.W. The first grenade barely missed the creature, but the explosion effect managed to hurt it and throw it on the ground. Taking advantage of its vulnerable position, Barry threw a second grenade directly at it as Jill and Chris kept shooting at it. The explosion raised an intense flame, and when the fumes had dissipated, the monster laid dead and half scorched.

"Well, there you have it. Nothing can do against a well-aimed grenade... "

"What the hell is this thing?" Jill said with a disgusted look.

"Guess it is Neo-Umbrella's new toy, " Chris said, kicking the corpse to take a look. "Team Alpha here. We took down the B.O.W that attacked Betta Team. It's been taken care of, but we found no survivors."

"Those are unfortunate news. Understood, team Alpha. Return to HQ, let clean-up to the back-up team. You've received new additional orders."

"What new orders, sir? If I may ask..." Jill said, looking at Chris with a frown.

"We've received intel from a member from the F.O.S, concerning the location of agent Kennedy. The place might be testing grounds for developing B.O.W.s"

"Just great, another Santa's factory of B.O.W." Barry mumbled bitterly. Chris knew the man was still bothered by what had happened to his daughter two years ago. Heck, he was mad, too. They had taken Claire once, and they had taken her again and right under his nose. Those fucking bastards would have to pay.

"You've been ordered to rescue and investigate the place. An aircraft is waiting for you at the power building. You are to depart asap."

"Understood. We are on our way."

Chris looked at his companions. His face twisted in an angry look. Those damned terrorists would pay if they touched a single hair of his sister, and he wasn't kidding.

"Leon...Claire. We are coming for you."

NOTE: if you guys want to come and chat about the fic, or just about CLEON in general. Feel free to drop by the discord and say hi! JOIN SERVER

#Resident Evil #my fanfiction #my fanfic writing #Cleon #claire redfield #claire x leon #leon s kennedy #leon x claire #chris redfield

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nanoland · 3 years

Text

new chapter (lucifer fic)

Ponder on the Narrow House, part 6

Mazikeen/Eve/Michael

(Whole thing can be read on AO3.)

Fuck the next bounty.

After thinking about it for ten seconds, Mazikeen turned them around and started driving straight for Los Angeles.

Eve can talk to him. Not me. He needs to talk to someone, and Eve will do.

Barely half a mile later, Amenadiel dropped out of the sky and landed in the middle of the road, just far enough away for her to bring the car to a screeching halt before it would otherwise have slammed into him like wet clay into a steel wall.

“We’ve got a problem,” he said, looking exhausted.

She snorted and pointed skyward. “Yeah. This? Not gonna lie, I was expecting something like this. But I thought it would take, like, at least a month.”

Wincing, Amenadiel said, “No, that’s… that’s a different problem and Chloe’s promised to discuss it with him. Maze, we need you back at Lux. Now.”

“Hi, Amenadiel!” Eve called, waving.

He succeeded in smiling at her without even glancing at Michael, despite his younger brother sitting right at her side, glaring fixedly.

“Why?” demanded Mazikeen, tensely drumming her fingers on the wheel. (Inner voice hissing, Shouldn’t have left him alone, you dumb bitch, you’ve been doing this for centuries and you know what he’s like when you leave him alone for more than five minutes.) “Seriously – what could he possibly need me for? He’s God.”

Sighing, Amenadiel put his wings away. “Mazikeen, we’re all well aware that Lucy often… has difficulty focusing. To put it mildly. There’s a lot more for him to focus on now than ever before. He’s trying to undo climate change. To that end, he started refreezing all the melted ice in the Arctic. But he did it too quickly and, resultantly, there are several hundred trapped ships we need to save and several thousand dead penguins to resurrect and, to be honest, he hasn’t really got the hang of resurrection yet – you remember what Dan looked like for the first few hours after Lucifer brought him back to life…”

“Eurgh. Yeah. Yuck. Totes not the kinda shit you’d wanna see in Happy Feet.”

Michael was snickering.

“Right. And then there are all the changes he’s been making locally,” Amenadiel went on. “The expansion of Lux, the overnight disappearance of all Los Angeles’ firearms, his deciding that the city’s white supremacist population should grow a third ear so they can be easily identified, and, well, it turns out that a lot of Chloe’s colleagues at the police station-…”

“I get it, I get it. Chaos everywhere. As usual. What, exactly, is the problem he wants me to fix?”

Amenadiel exhaled heavily. “The demons. The ones you brought from Hell to help us defeat Michael.”

“Oh, so you do remember I exist,” Michael muttered.

Stonily ignoring him, Amenadiel said, “They’re still on Earth and they’re causing trouble. The one called Dromos, in particular. He’s gathered followers and they’ve surrounded Lux.”

Her brother’s face – his real face, not the human puppet he wore – flashed through her mind’s eye; a memory from when they were unruly children and had raced through Hell together, using the stone pillars that they’d not yet known were cells as an obstacle course. She’d been faster; he, more athletic. Together with a few cousins, they’d made a fearsome team, and not even their meanest older siblings had bullied them.

She folded her arms and looked away. “They’re demons. Lucifer can deal with them. Snap his fingers and turn them into rats or whatever. Make them explode.”

“Mazikeen,” Eve murmured, soft and low, touching her shoulder. “You don’t want that. They’re your family.”

Amenadiel blinked, as though that hadn’t occurred to him. “Er… yes, there’s that. There’s also the fact that Lucifer doesn’t want all of humanity to see him as the type of God who casually annihilates his enemies; a harsh, vindictive God. He wants to be liked. To be loved.”

“Fine. So why don’t you and the other angels sort it out?”

“Come now, Maze. A bunch of angels and a bunch of demons waging war in the midst of a bustling city? Humans will die. But you’re the Queen of Hell now and, by extension, the Queen of Demons. If you command Dromos to stand down, he will. This can all be resolved peacefully.”

Eve’s fingertips were cool against her skin.

Mazikeen looked back at the sky. The cloud letters were starting to dissolve. “What does he want?”

“Who?”

“Dromos. He doesn’t act on instinct. He’s a planner. He wants something.”

Shrugging, Amenadiel said, “He shouted at me about demanding an audience with the king. I didn’t ask for details. I don’t really care. Dromos isn’t someone I’m inclined to listen to at the best of times. The last time the wretch showed his face on Earth, he kidnapped my son.”

“Mmm. Kinda like your sister was gonna do. Kinda like you were gonna do, now that I think about it.”

“Maze!” he gasped, sounding shocked and hurt. “You can’t compared poor Remiel’s misguided actions to-…”

“I’ll do it,” she interrupted. “Take me to Lux. Now.”

“Excuse me? What about us?” snapped Michael.

Mazikeen met Eve’s gentle gaze. “You don’t need to be involved in this. My family drama, it – it’s not pretty.”

“My son killed my son,” said Eve, taking her hand. “My husband loved another woman. I’m used to drama.”

Swallowing, Mazikeen glanced at Michael. “And you, wimp?”

Feigning disinterest – feigning it badly – he said, “You showed up to my last domestic dispute. Guess this’ll make us square.”

“I’ve only got two arms. I can’t carry all of you,” Amenadiel pointed out.

Mazikeen rubbed her chin. “No… but you can carry the car, right?”

He didn’t have time for this. There was so much to do.

“World hunger,” he recited as he bounced from one laptop to the next, all twenty-three of them displaying a different article or video by a leading scientific or sociological mind, “wealth inequality, pollution, cancer, droughts, racism, elderly abuse, housing shortages, cruelty to animals…”

“Lucifer,” said Linda patiently, sitting on his best couch with her legs crossed, a cup of coffee and a laptop of her own beside her. “You said you wanted my advice as to how you should manage this whole ‘being God’ business.”

“I do, doctor! Very much. Your input is invaluable. Blast, where did I put that map of Alaska? I’m thinking of making it bigger; slotting it in alongside the Arctic to help stabilise all that new ice.”

“Right. Thanks. So here – here is what I’m suggesting now; slow down. Seriously. Take a breath, step back, and think your next move through.”

He scoffed. “‘Slow down’? Doctor, I need to work at least three times faster if I’m to keep up with everything. There are people suffering everywhere, millions of them! There are sinners in need of punishment! I’m seriously considering asking Chloe to be my Deputy God. I never imagined omnipotence would entail so much paperwork and she’s always been better at that than me.”

Outside the penthouse, many stories below, the chanting grew louder. None of the human police officers, journalists, and gawkers who’d gathered to watch could understand it; it was in Lilim.

Cursing, Lucifer strode to the balcony and shouted down, “For the last time, would you all kindly piss off? I’m trying to fix an entire planet here!”

He heard the elevator open and moaned. “Detective, not now. Please. I’m very sorry I haven’t returned your calls – I swear I’m not avoiding you – it’s just that I’ve got a lot on my plate today and we did already agree to meet for supper at-…”

“Lucifer,” said Linda, sounding terrified.

“Lucifer,” said someone else, sounding irritable.

Now that he was God, rage didn’t turn his eyes red anymore. It turned them gold and blindingly bright, like spotlights. Fists clenched, he turned to see Dromos step into the penthouse, once again clad in the flesh of the late Father Kinley and wearing a leather jacket.

“Nice trick, making all the doors disappear. Finally decided to climb up the side of the building with a sledgehammer and burrow my way through into the elevator shaft,” said the demon, hands in his pockets and concrete dust coating his beard and his bald head. “I want to talk to you, sire.”

Storming across the room while Linda remained frozen, white-faced, on the couch, Lucifer snarled, “You! You have the nerve to come here, to stand before me, after what you did to my nephew?”

He took Dromos by the neck and lifted him off the ground, his wings opening in fury (he had six of them now).

Stoical even as he choked, Dromos said, “I need. To talk. I will leave immediately afterwards.”

“Oh, you’ll leave, alright! You’ll be lucky if I don’t throw you into an active volcano, you accursed traitor!”

Dromos’ stolen skin began to sizzle beneath his fingers. He waited until the demon’s face was wrinkled with pain before throwing him to the floor hard enough to crack the wood and make a crater.

“I will leave,” Dromos gasped, coughing up blood, “when I have spoken.”

“What could you possibly have to say for yourself? Kidnapper. Child-thief.”

Still on the couch, Linda said tremulously, “Lucifer, you’re… you’re hurting him. Stop it. Please.”

“Let us stay!” shouted Dromos, and coughed again before dragging himself up onto his knees. “On Earth. That’s what I came to say. Let your erstwhile subjects stay on Earth if they choose – at least, those who served you in the battle against Michael. Don’t force them to return to Hell. Let them, let us choose where we live, going forward. That’s my request, your Majesty. My only request.”

Lucifer boggled at him. “Is that a joke? Demons? On Earth, indefinitely, unsupervised? Are you out of your tiny mind, Dromos?”

Baring teeth, Dromos said, “Why not? What does it matter to you now? You’ve got everything you could possibly want. Everything anyone could possibly want! All we’re asking is the freedom to come and go as we please.”

“No.”

He spoke the word bluntly, and then he stepped back, adjusting his cuffs. Regaining his composure. “Never. You’re dangerous and untrustworthy. This world is for humans, not you. Good grief, haven’t I got enough to preoccupy my mind, without the added stress of demons rampaging around town?”

“We won’t rampage. We just-…”

“Why are you even coming to me with this? Mazikeen’s the new Queen of Hell. Didn’t you get the memo?”

Dromos wiped blood from his lips. “I don’t know if my sister and I are on speaking terms right now. And she may be Queen, but you’re God; I assumed you would be tasked with such decisions. After all, there’s never been a demon in charge of Hell before. We were told – we were always told – that only angels could rule us. I don’t doubt Mazikeen’s competence, but I…”

He seemed to run out of steam, spreading his hands and finishing weakly, “Lucifer, you’re the king. You’ve been the king for millions of years. For my entire life. Look, if you really don’t want us leaving Hell, then can you at least use your newfound power to improve it? Let us have the things mortals enjoy? Pianos, dogs, blankets, weekends, all that stuff?”

Lucifer rolled his eyes. “That would rather defeat the purpose, wouldn’t it? Hell is supposed to be a place of punishment. The ultimate consequence awaiting sinners. I need a carrot and a stick, Dromos. How else am I supposed to convince people to behave if I don’t? Imagine a rapist arriving in Hell and being confronted with demons playing pianos and walking their dogs. Wouldn’t have quite the desired effect, would it?”

Dromos was quiet for a moment, then said without inflection, “Perhaps you could find somewhere else to put rapists. Somewhere other than our home.”

Throwing up his arms, Lucifer said, “More demands! Don’t you see how selfish you’re being? Here I am, doing my best to end all suffering, and you’re complaining about babysitting a few evil-doers – which, might I remind you, is your job. Nay, your very reason for existence. Always has been. Why’re you getting stroppy about it now?”

“I think,” Linda began, taking a tentative step forward before stopping and clearing her throat. “Excuse me. May I interrupt? Um. Okay, so I think that maybe Dromos has a point here, Lucifer.”

“Doctor! This is the creature that stole your baby!”

“Yes, I know. And I’m not saying I forgive him for that, but…”

“I wasn’t going to eat the brat,” Dromos grumbled. “I was going to make him a king.”

“You took him away from his mother!” Lucifer shouted.

“Gentlemen!” said Linda, sharply. “Please! Let’s try to talk this through like adults.”

Overcome with frustration, and only vaguely aware that he’d not been sleeping well lately, Lucifer kicked the nearest chair. “I can’t believe you’re siding with him, doctor.”

“I’m not siding with anyone. I-…”

“You don’t know these people like I do. You didn’t spend millions of years in Hell alongside them. The only demon you’ve ever gotten acquainted with is Maze, and she’s not like the others; even without a soul, she’s learned how to behave like a more-or-less civilised adult, barring the occasional tantrum. But your average, baseline demon has nothing to them besides wrath and cruelty. Lilith made them to be weapons and that’s all they really are. I mean – just imagine, for a moment, how hard it was for me. To go from the Silver City, the most beautiful place ever created, to a lightless nightmare realm full of these bloodthirsty animals. To be surrounded by them, for endless eons, while they nattered mindlessly on and on about how much they love torture and pain and…”

He trailed off. Linda and Dromos were both looking past him.

To the elevator. Where – oh – Mazikeen was standing.

Where Mazikeen was crying.

No sobs, not like when Dan had died. No expression at all, really. Just open eyes, motionless muscles, and steady tears.

Before Lucifer could say a word, she pressed the button to close the elevator doors.

“Wait!” he yelped, sprinting over to stop them.

He needn’t have bothered. Now that he was God, objects did whatever he told them to do. The doors stilled, half-open.

“That sounded wrong,” he acknowledged, clasping her shoulders in apology. “You completely missed the context. What I was trying to say was-…”

“Don’t touch me.”

It was a phrase he’d heard many times before from mortal lovers to whom he had accidentally revealed his Devil Face. Some of them said it in horror. Some of them, the religious ones, said it in anger.

Mazikeen looked neither horrified nor angry. She looked sick. As though the very sight of him turned her stomach.

Lumbering over, Dromos stepped into the elevator alongside her and pointedly pressed the button again. With no idea what to do or say, Lucifer allowed the machinery to work.

The elevator closed.

“What have I done?” he asked Linda.

Nothing I didn’t know.

“Maze?” called Eve, waiting by the car with the others as Mazikeen stepped out of Lux’s front door and into the sunlight.

The door hadn’t been there when they’d arrived. She’d been forced to use Dromos’ route. Lucifer must have decided to put it back. He could do that now. Just decide things. Didn’t need servants, nor followers, nor anyone. Sure didn’t need a ‘more-or-less civilised adult’ whose kin were animals.

“Maze! Wait!”

Mazikeen didn’t know where she was going, only that she was walking very quickly and felt that she’d die if she stopped. She heard Eve’s heels patter on the pavement and heard her say her name a third time, quiet and worried, and that was what stilled her feet.

“What happened?” murmured Eve, cupping her face.

The fifty or so demons who’d been standing around outside Lux when Amenadiel had set the car and its passengers down were still there. Instead of chanting to get their king’s attention, they were now looking at her.

Michael and Amenadiel stood among them, the latter having been trying to convince them to stop blocking traffic.

Which was what she should have been doing. It was what he’d brought her here to do. But she’d been gripped by a sudden, violent need to see Lucifer, to check on him, just quickly, before tending to her siblings. Once a bodyguard, always a bodyguard.

Except that wasn’t what I was. Not to him. To him, I was a Rottweiler on a leash.

“Are you alright?” asked Amenadiel, his eyes overflowing with concern.

That was what cracked her.

To him. Not to everyone. Not to Eve, or Amenadiel, or Linda. It’s not that I’m incapable of earning love and respect.

I’m just incapable of earning his.

Her legs gave out. She crumpled against Lux’s outside wall and started to weep properly, loud and bitter.

Eve immediately dropped down beside her, holding her tight. Michael shuffled closer, rubbing his shoulder while his mouth opened and shut, testing out sentences that were never spoken.

Then Dromos was there, kneeling, his face sad and tired.

“We did what we were told,” she said to him in Lilim, through sniffles. “We obeyed. We were loyal. We… we…”

“We are alone, sister,” he replied. “But I think we always were.”

“We obeyed!”

“We obeyed Lilith and she left. We obeyed Lucifer and he left. No one wants us, Mazikeen. It’s just the truth.”

She took a shuddering breath and squeezed her eyes shut. “No. I want us.”

Seizing his jacket’s shoulder, she hauled herself to her feet and addressed the crowd, her voice raw: “I want you! You’re my family and I want you! And I swear I will be the queen you deserve, for as long as you’ll have me!”

Her human skin fell away, the left side of her face turning cold, bony, and brittle.

Stepping back to join their siblings, Dromos asked hesitantly, “What would you have us do, then, my queen? What are your orders?”

Hurriedly drying her eyes, she studied them one by one. “Whoever wants to can stay here. But I’m going home. Hell is going to be ours, Dromos. No more damned souls. No more angels. It’s ours now and we’re going to make it into something we can love.”

She turned to face Eve and Michael, her heart pounding. “You’ll come with me, yeah? You’ll stand with me?”

“Always,” said Eve, closing in to kiss her.

“Whatever,” Michael muttered, clearly just relieved that the crying part was over.

Amenadiel sighed, shaking his head gravely. “Mazikeen, are you sure this is what you want? You won’t be able to leave Hell on your own – you’ll need to contact me.”

“Yeah. At least until this one grows his feathers back,” she said, gesturing at Michael. “That’s okay. You’ll always come when I call, right?”

“Of course. You’re my friend, Maze. I’m sorry if I haven’t said that often enough.”

Fuck it. Cringing on the inside, Mazikeen drew Amenadiel into a quick, gruff hug. “You too, idiot.”

#lucifer #mazikeen #lucifer morningstar #eve #amenadiel #michael #michael demiurgos #dromos #fanfic #my fic

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fandom-imagines-stories · 3 years

Text

The Haunted Ones: 1 Hello, Welcome Home

Tom Hanniger x Reader

Words: 2603

Series Summary: Scarred by their past, Tom Hanniger and his girlfriend decide to face their nightmares together. When the reader’s past begins to resurface, the two must hold fast to each other, or submit to insanity.

Episode Summary: After six years together in the institution, the reader takes Tom back to her hometown. Back to where it all happened.

Notes: I know I said fourteen imagines for October, but I just couldn’t resist this idea after watching this movie. I wrote a fic series for the video game Until Dawn and I’ve wanted to write something similar for a long time. I don’t know how often this’ll be updated, so just continue to check in if you enjoy!

Thanks to my wonderful beta @suckmysupernatural. She’s a beautiful human and I love her!

Shake. Shake. Shake. You could hear the pills rattling around in your pocket. Shake. Shake. Shake. The jeep slowly creeped down the road, a heavy fog making it nearly impossible for Tom to see. You were getting close.

Trees stretched up to the sky, looming over the car like they were ready to swallow you. You used to love those trees. Even they seemed to have turned against you. You kept your gaze on the road and with every mile, the weight on your chest grew heavier and heavier. It wouldn’t be long before you passed the house.

Tom noticed the way you shrank into your seat like you were trying to disappear. The look in your eyes was one he was all too familiar with. It was a crippling combination of crushing guilt and absolute terror. You’d had it since you’d left the institution and it only intensified when a narrow road split the trees apart. It gaped at you, mocking your fear. Even though you couldn’t see it, you knew that the house was watching you. Tom drove faster, hoping to put your memory in the rearview mirror as soon as possible.

With a trembling hand, you dumped a couple of pills into your palm. Shake. Shake. Shake. You brought the little white ovals up to your lips, feeling Tom’s worried gaze follow your movement.

“Maybe we should go camping like we talked about.” He suggested, pulling the jeep over. He knew you hated those pills. He hated his too.

“No.” You swallowed, shaking your head. “I have to go back. I have to go home.” You hesitated and made sure Tom wasn’t looking before you poured one more pill into your hand. Shake. Shake. Shake.

“Fucking hate motels.” Tom muttered as he stuck the key in the lock. You felt all of the hair on the back of your neck stand up. Someone was watching you. Afraid to look, you slowly turned your head. The curtains of the room next store closed in a flash.

“What is it?” Tom asked, eyes searching the direction that you were looking.

“I thought… nothing.” You pushed inside the room. You were just being paranoid. You just had to keep reminding yourself what the nurses said. Dr. Krychek was dead. She couldn’t hurt you anymore.

Tom placed both of your bags at the foot of the bed before collapsing onto the comforter. You kicked off your shoes and crawled up beside him. Tom slowly unbuttoned your jacket and laid his hand over the large, jagged line that stretched across your stomach. His touch grounded you. It kept you from going back there. Back to that house.

While he soothingly ran his fingers over the length of the scar, you tapped the rhythm of his heart beat on his chest.

This was a routine that you’d fallen into anytime one of you was having a particularly rough day. HIs touch kept the pain at bay and your steady taps reminded him that he was still himself. You anchored each other to the present to keep from slipping into the past.

“Thank you.” You whispered into the fabric of his sweatshirt. The olive green color reminded you of a pond - steady and calming.

“I still think we should leave.” He huffed, his arm tightening around you protectively. “I don’t care what the nurses said.”

“It’ll help me get closure. I need to move on.” It was a line you’d heard over and over again. Your voice sounded automatic, rehearsed. The following words were your own. “I have to go see her, Tom. She’s probably wondering where I’ve been all these years.”

“Are you sure that’s a good idea? I mean, last time you saw her was the trial and she nearly broke your nose.” Tom pulled away to give you a concerned glance. You shrugged.

“From what I’ve heard, Amanda has been doing okay. She’s married now and adopting two boys.” You had a tone of envy in your voice. “She certainly coped better than I did.” For one, she didn't spend the last six years being fed a bunch of self-help bullshit.

Tom didn’t try to argue. He just wanted to keep you safe, whether it was from this town or from yourself. Your eyes locked together and you pulled your bottom lip between your teeth.

“Can we talk about something else?” You pouted. It had been a long day and you wanted to forget where you were, if only for a few hours. Tom nodded.

It felt odd, having no one to hide from. Your nurses discouraged romantic attachments, especially with other patients. They said that a relationship would only confuse you more. They also thought that you were just some fragile little girl afraid of her own shadow. They didn’t know what you were capable of.

And you weren’t hiding anymore.

Tom’s breathing hitched as you lowered his hand from your scar to the waistband of your jeans. His free hand undid the rest of the buttons on your jacket and snaked around your back, unclipping your bra with one motion.

With your hands free, you removed his sweatshirt, followed by his belt. He slipped off his jeans before shimmying yours down your legs. You threw your jacket on the floor, followed by your shirt. The cool air found your bare skin, making your shiver, but his body was quick to warm yours. He whispered your name, kissing a trail from your neck down your stomach until he settled between your legs. Your fingers laced through his hair, desperate to feel something other than fear or anger or despair. You just wanted to feel him.

By the time Tom woke up, you were half dressed. You walked around the motel room in slacks and your white lacey bra. He couldn’t help but smirk at the sight.

“Hey,” He greeted, lazily swinging his legs over the side of the bed.

“I’m just going out for some coffee. Sleep in.” You playfully shoved him back onto the pillows. Tom hooked his fingers through your belt loops and pulled you onto his lap.

“Give me a second to get dressed and I’ll go with you.” His strong arms locked around your waist and those green eyes nearly had you. You shook your head and kissed his forehead.

“I can go get coffee by myself, Tom. You spent all day driving yesterday. You need the extra rest. Especially after last night.” You silenced his argument with a kiss. “I won’t be gone long.” Tom gave you a disapproving frown.

“Okay.” He said reluctantly. You pried yourself away and put on one of your nicer blouses. You wanted to look decent for your return to your home town. If you could look sane, maybe people would believe it.

You went out the door and Tom laid down, but had no intention of sleeping. He didn’t like sleeping alone. Without you, he saw him again. Swinging that fucking pick ax into someone’s skull. Sometimes it was your body he saw in those mines. Sometimes he saw his own.

You didn’t really just go to get coffee. You to Alli’s, the diner in town that you went to as a kid. You had heard that Amanda was working here as a manager. Funny. She used to be a law student. But hey, who were you to judge?

The subtlety you’d been hoping for was quickly ruined. It felt like every pair of eyes were on you. Cars even slowed down to get a better look. You tried your best to ignore them. None of them understood. None of them except Amanda.

The sign of Alli’s had new paint. It used to be blue. It was red now.

Going in was like a scene from a movie. The music stopped, all chatter halted and everything just froze. Dozens of stares burned into you and you wished you could sink back into that motel bed with Tom’s warmth pressed against you. Holding your chin a little high, you approached the register.

“What is going on out here? Y’all look like you’ve seen a-” Amanda froze, eyes meeting yours, “ghost.”

“Hey Mandy.”

Just like that, it all flooded back into you. And from the look of her eyes, you knew she felt it too. Neither of you were standing in that diner anymore. You were back at the house.

Seven Years Ago

Your legs ached, your muscles screaming from being strapped down for so long. But you couldn’t stop. If you stopped, she’d catch you.

“We have to go back for her!” Amanda sobbed. You were practically dragging her down the hall, fingers clamped around her wrist. Your other arm was pressed against your bleeding stomach like you could keep your insides from spilling out. With the amount of blood gushing from the wound, your vision was turning black around the edges. And still, you pulled Amanda along behind you as you kept running.

“Stop it! Stop!” Amanda fought your iron grip. “We have to go back for her! Ashley! Ashley!” Her screams for her sister went unanswered.

“Ashley’s dead.” You blurted. Amanda pretended not to hear you.

“Ashley! Ashley!” A figure appeared at the end of the hall.

“Get back here!” Dr. Krychek shrieked.

“Fuck.” You muttered, yanking Amanda through the door. She kicked and she screamed, but you didn’t care. You were getting out.

Present Day

“Y/N?” Amanda gasped. “Jesus, I thought you might be-”

“Dead?” You laughed humorlessly. You stepped towards her. “Nuts? Yes. But very much alive.”

You waited for her to yell. To slap you and to order you out of the restaurant. You weren’t prepared for her to fling her arms around you and cry happily into your shoulder.

“I thought I would never see you again.” She cried. “And after everything I said at the courthouse… I’m so glad you came home.”

Still shocked by the rush of affection, you hesitantly returned her hug. The last time you saw Amanda, she clawed your face and called you a murderer. She had to be pried off you by courthouse security. They said she wasn’t thinking straight because of the trial, but she was the only one who knew the truth. Dr. Krychek didn’t kill her sister. You did.

Back at the motel, Tom was getting anxious. Your ten minute coffee run had turned into an hour. His call to your cell went unanswered, sending an icy panic through his veins. If you were alone for too long, you could have one of your episodes, with or without those damn pills.

“She’s abandoned you, Tommy boy. Left you all alone with me.”

Tom ignored him and called again.

“Come on, you’re not really worried about her. You’re worried that, without her, you won’t be able to get rid of me.”

Tom quickly downed a handful of his pills and continued to ignore the voice. Leaving one more unanswered call, Tom decided enough was enough. He put on some jeans and his sweatshirt and grabbed the keys to his jeep.

“I’ll be back, Tom. You know I will.”

Tom took a deep breath and started the car. He didn’t make it far before he saw the glare of red and blue lights. Again, the freezing hand of panic seized his heart. No, no, no. He slammed on the breaks, leaving the jeep in the middle of the street to investigate.

The yard was teeming with police and paramedics. They had been called too late, judging by the body being loaded into the ambulance.

“Poor woman.” One of the neighbors. “Emily was supposed to play cards this weekend… poor woman.”

He couldn’t help but let out a sigh of relief. It wasn’t you.

“What happened?” He wondered genuinely. The woman shrugged.

“The gardener found her. All cut up on her kitchen floor.” She shook her head. “It’s like the Krychek killings all over again.” She mused before walking over to a group of other neighbors. Tom observed the scene for another minute or two before returning to his jeep.

He found you walking down main street with another woman. You were smiling.

Tom quickly pulled over and caught up to you. You noticed the worry on his face before he threw his arms around you. In catching up with Amanda, you had forgotten he was waiting for you.

“You didn’t answer your phone and when I saw those cops I-” He took a deep breath to calm himself down. “Paranoid, I know.”

“Tom, I’m so sorry.” You pulled back and placed an apologetic kiss on his cheek. “We got to talking and I didn’t even think about how worried you would be.” His eyes darted between you and Amanda.

“Oh, how rude of me. I’m Amanda. Y/N and I were friends when we were kids.” She held out her hand to shake his and he took it, eyes narrowed slightly. She just kept smiling.

“It’s okay, Mandy. He knows.” You could tell that she had this part rehearsed well, but there was no need to pretend with Tom. She visibly relaxed. He gave her a small smile.

“Tom Hanniger.” Her expression was quizzical, as if she was trying to place the name. Tom clarified. “That Hanniger.”

You forgot that you weren't too far from Tom’s hometown. The news of the mine collapse and the Harry Warden murderers spread all over the state. Even after nine years, she recognized the name.

You recalled something strange Tom had mentioned.

“What were you saying about the police?” You asked. His expression darkened.

“They found a body.” His lips formed a grim line. There was something else.

“What?” You urged. You never hid anything from each other. He let out a heavy sigh.

“I heard someone say…” He trailed off, reluctant to share in fear of scaring the two of you. You and Amanda watched him expectantly. “They said it was like a Krychek killing.”

Amanda gasped, but you didn’t make a sound. It was like a light in your eyes just switched off. This is what he was afraid of.

“Baby, hey, look at me. Y/N, look at me.” He cupped your face in his hands, his thumb lightly tracing your trembling lip.

“W-what’s wrong with her?” Amanda squeaked.

“Y/N, I'm right here. You’re right here.” He slipped his hand in between the two of you, resting it over your blouse where he knew the scar was. After a moment, his touch brought you back. You blinked and the light flipped back on.

“Tom?” You whispered. He enveloped you in his embrace.

“It’s okay. I’ve got you.” He swayed slightly, rocking you in his protective arms. Amanda gave the couple a small smile.

“I’d better get back to work.” She sighed. Her eyes brightened with an idea. “Come to dinner tonight. Matt and I would love to have you.”

You parted from Tom to give her a nod. She excitedly walked back to the diner, leaving the two of you behind.

“She seems… well adjusted.” Tom noted, leading you to the jeep.

“She certainly coped better than I did.” You scoffed, repeating your statement from the previous night. Still feeling the aftermath of your attack, you pulled out your pills and dumped them into your hand. Shake. Shake. Shake. With a heavy sigh, you looked at the town you once called home. “God, it’s like nothing’s changed.”

“One thing has.” Tom put his hand on top of yours. “You’re not alone anymore.” Your lips turned up in a loving smile. With a sweet kiss Tom started the car.

General Tag: @rae-gar-targaryen; @takemepedropascal; @childhood-imagination; @mylovegoesto; @yellowbadgergirl; @itmejado

#my bloody valentine #jensen ackles x reader #not dean #but kinda dean #tom hanniger x reader #halloween #horror #slasher #there will be blood #lots of blood

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pogueit · 3 years

Text

Hardships of Breakups

A/N: I am ashamed of this, but I had to write it! This is my first time writing any “smut” and I’m already bad at writing as is so if you decide to read this I am so sorry!!!

Summary: You just got out of a relationship and Rafe wants to make you feel better.

Warnings: smut. fingering, oral (male receiving), fingering slight choking, etc....

Songs: Bruno Mars entire discography (for some bizarre reason) and added St. Vincent for taste

Word count: 3,501

*GIF NOT MINE CREDIT TO @cigvrrcte AND THEIR DREW STARKEY GIF PACK!!*

You hated how loud it sounded when your fist gently tapped against the looming door, but what you hated the most was being there. Being in that area kept you on edge and more so being at the Cameron's residence. The only reason you ever stepped foot on Figure 8 was to pick up your siblings. Your little sisters had struck up a cute friendship with Sarah and Wheezie this summer after helping the girls rescue some godforsaken sea turtles. Typically picking your sisters up wasn't such a burden, because you and Rafe had picked up a running gag of who can be the biggest asshole. You hate to admit it, but you always looked forward to seeing Rafe, and even worse you felt kinda sad if he wasn't the one to open the door.

Today was miserable, it had been a whirlwind of absolute bullshit and you just couldn't wait to be home and let your sadness swallow you whole. Two of your co-workers called in "sick" for the next 2 days meaning you were going to have to work doubles on the busiest weekend of the month. It wouldn’t be that bad if you hadn’t found out earlier this morning that your sweet wholesome boyfriend, Tate, had been cheating on you with a touron for the last month and a half which you tried to play off as a nuisance, but it wasn’t working. Even just thinking about it brings fresh hot tears to your eyes and makes it seem as if you can’t breathe as your chest tightens, but you couldn’t bring yourself to cry. Well, not until you’ve finished beating the shit out of them and making Tate never want to cheat on any poor soul ever again. You can’t believe you thought he was different, especially because he had to have liked you back at some point, and most boys on the island didn't exactly like you in a romantic sense. You believed everything was going great in the relationship. The two of you were practically conjoined at the hip and had just about everything in common. You were elated that someone that you genuinely liked liked you back and you tried your best in trying to make the pogue dating a kook thing work. Had you been really that stupid? Did you really not pick up on anything? Or did you let everything go over your head on purpose? You were driving yourself absolutely insane with all of these consuming thoughts. The thing that annoyed you the most was all the fucking whispering. You hadn't noticed it at first, but after finding out about Tate being a motherfucker of the first degree, you couldn't stop picking it up. Everywhere you went you could hear the soft voices quickly exchanging information with each other. It became worse after you finally found Tate and that touron on the beach and gave them both a beating they would never forget.

After causing that scene at the beach, you were finally able to let go and cry. Your heartbroken ass was a complete mess by the time you got to work. Your eyes hurt from being so puffy and red as the result of crying so much beforehand, but lucky for you your job was at the dish pit at the resort. You were notorious at work for having eyes that were sensitive as all fuck and since you were around a bunch of disinfectants all the time your eyes would constantly be bloodshot and swollen like a fucking balloon. So, you didn’t have to worry about anyone asking any invasive questions, but they probably all know what went down by now.

Work was miserable like always, but being the weekend it had an extra kick in the tit quality to it, and by the time you clocked out you were ready to just drop dead.

When the door opened you hoped it was someone working at the house or even Ward Cameron of all people, but it was Rafe. When your eyes landed on his figure you inherently rolled your puffy eyes and crossed your arms over your chest. He never saw you in this state before and he let his usual hardass demeanor soften. Rafe was used to seeing a smart-mouthed badass, not a puffy-eyed snot nosed loser, but being a creature of habit he still awaited a smartass comment from you. When all he got was a sniffly "I'm here for my sisters'' his concern for you only grew. Rafe had been on the mainland since the ass crack of dawn helping his dad with the construction company and had just been dropped off by his dad only a few minutes ago. His phone died not even halfway through the morning, so he wasn't able to see the hundreds of thousands of messages Topper and Kelce sent him about what went down with you and Tate.

The poor boy was genuinely confused and didn’t know what to say. He was so ready to shoot some stupid insult back at you that he was at a loss for words and it didn’t help that he's harbored a little crush on you ever since middle school.

"Uh, they’re still not back yet" the words made your bottom lip tremble and you could feel your eyes getting prickly with tears. All you wanted to do was go home and put an end to this god awful day, but you couldn't even do that, you still had to wait for your sisters.

"Oh, um, I'll just-- come back later" you sniffled, quickly turning away from him already feeling the tears slipping down your tinted cheeks. You were stopped by Rafe's strong hand grabbing hold of your upper arm preventing you from fully turning around.

"Fuck off, please" your voice cracked, embarrassment washing over you as you tried to tear your arm away from him and failing miserably. Rafe without missing a beat pulled you into a hug to try and comfort you. Never in a million years would you have ever imagined yourself trapped in an embrace by Rafe Cameron and nevertheless that he would be any good at giving it. You were still sobbing uncontrollably but you’ve never felt safer in anyone's arms, especially a mans, until now. You let yourself melt into his arms letting yourself enjoy the boy's presence around your shivering body.

"Uh, why are you wet?" Rafe spoke up after a few seconds after feeling the moisture in your clothes start to cling to his.

"Work" you unburied your face from his chest and looked up at him. You could feel your stomach flutter when you caught his blue eyes staring down at you which suddenly made you very shy, a shyness you never experienced before, especially around Rafe Cameron.

Without another word you were being dragged up their grand staircase and into the boy’s room.

You didn't expect his room to be so warm and cozy like a Sunday afternoon when you have nothing to do the next day. The room was filled with soft light and music was streaming from a record player in the corner. You curiously inspected his living space and sniffled as your eyes snooped around at all the things that brought Rafe some sort of comfort.

"Uh, you should probably get warmed up" Rafe stated before scrambling to find some clean clothes for you to wear.

"Umm, here” he gently placed the pile of clothes into your hands, “The, uh, the bathroom is right there" He pointed to the white door that led to his bathroom. You wandered inside and quietly closed the door behind you. His bathroom was the size of your bedroom if not bigger and it was definitely nicer than anything in your house. You quickly jumped into the shower and as you relished the hot water on your skin, you could hear Rafe switch whatever mumble rapper record he had on to something easier on the ears. Once you’ve finished washing up, you change into the clothes provided to you and walk back out into Rafe’s room. Immediately you could feel his gaze on you, lingering on your figure wrapped in his clothes. He sat in a puffy chair near his desk as you still stood in front of the bathroom door. It was unbearably silent except for the soft pseudo rock music that played in the background. It was still for that moment neither of you made a move nor a sound and you could just feel the water droplets sliding down your cooling skin. He was awe, adoring how you looked wrapped up in his clothes, and couldn’t help but imagine taking them off you in a heated moment. You, on the other hand, had come to the conclusion that you absolutely loved Rafe’s hair when it was messy and ungelled. It made him look softer and not like a forty-year-old with a failing business. Agitated with the tension you two had spawned, you marched towards where he was sitting and grabbed his face with your hands, before roughly smashing your lips to his. Your whole body was on fire as he kissed back and brought you down to sit on his lap. His hands delved underneath the shirt you were wearing and glided up your back, trying to feel as much of you as he could. Rafe started to get eager and deepened the kiss when you began softly grinding your hips. However, the small little fact that you have a boyfriend, to his current knowledge, faltered his motivation and pulled back from you.

"You didn't mean to do that" he pulled away from you, bringing your hands that were wrapped around his neck down to your lap.

"Do what?" You were confused searching desperately in his eyes for whatever he was trying to tell you.

"Kiss me" He shifted his gaze down to his hands that held yours.

"Please, let’s not do this right now" you leaned back in, but his hands kept you in place.

"What about Tate, huh?" You rolled your eyes at the sound of that motherfucker's name and judging by your reaction and the mess you were a handful of minutes ago all the pieces were starting to make sense. You could see the light bulb that’s located somewhere in his head slowly lighting up and paired along with the sudden realization in his blue eyes, he was finally putting 2 and 2 together.

"Can I get back to kissing you?" You pouted jerking your hips forward soliciting a deep groan from Rafe who nodded frantically. You promptly attached your lips back to his supple ones all the while continuing to slowly grind your needy pussy onto his growing cock. Rafe's hands soon found themselves on your ass and began groping and lightly smacking each one. From all the grinding and groping you were starting to get desperate. Rafe being the self-titled 'Sex God' he could sense it and was determined to make you cum at least twice. Normally, he'd shoot for more but time is a variable and not really on his side, so he settled on twice. He didn't mind if he was just being used as a rebound, he actually found it kinda hot or maybe it was just because it was you. Rafe halted your steady movements and forced you to stand up for half a second before turning you around to sit back on his lap. You couldn't even get a word in, because as soon as you were back on his lap with your back against his toned chest he had already shoved his hand down the front of the pants you were wearing, leaving you a shuddering mess. Just feeling how wet you were made Rafe let out a loud groan.

"Is this all for me?" He whispered as his index finger teasingly rubbed quick circles around your swollen clit. His left hand wandered up from your waist to play with your tits, pulling and pawing at the soft skin. You couldn’t bring yourself to say anything as you were too busy whimpering and withering in his lap. Rafe turned the rolly chair to the side so you could place your feet at the edge of the desk and give him more access to your pussy. He loved how you bucked your hips against his hand as he made his way closer to your entrance.

"God, please, just finger me already" your moan full of desperation.

“As you wish” and with that, he plunged two long digits into your core.

“Oh, fuck!” your back arched in response and your grip on his arms tightened. His fingers slid in and out of your heat at an achingly slow pace. Mainly because Rafe enjoyed how his fingers disappeared in your pussy and how you rolled your hips against his hand a bit too much.

“Rafe, please--” you were losing your mind at how slow he was going, and all your desperate attempts to speed things up only made him go even slower. The warm fuzzy feeling that ruled your body remained stagnant and you were determined to reach your release.

“What is it baby?” he cooed into your neck, before latching back onto your neck surely leaving dark little marks.

“Go faster” your breathing hitched in your throat as his thumb ghosted over your clit.

“Faster?” his left hand left your tender breasts to focus on your clit, so his right hand could properly drill into you. His hands got right to work pounding and curling his fingers into you and with the added friction to your bundle of nerves you were a whimpering mess on his lap. That familiar build-up of heat in your lower abdomen was quickly approaching and you didn’t think you could hold on any longer.

“Rafe, baby, I’m gonna cum” you squealed as he immediately drilled into your g-spot. When he hit the right combination of nerves your body was finally able to let go and you let out the most pornographic series of moans.

“God, Y/N, that was hot” he gave your ass a hard slap before pulling his fingers out of you and holding them up to your swollen lips. You happily open your mouth and let him slip his fingers into your mouth. Your tongue slowly swirled around his digits, cleaning all your juices off of them before pulling them out of your soft mouth. Rafe couldn’t help but moan at your actions and he was surprised he didn’t just cum in his pants right then and there.

"My turn" you placed a brief kiss on his cheek, before shedding the remaining clothes from your body and getting on your knees. Rafe couldn’t help but moan at the sight of you on your knees before him. You eagerly pulled out his ridiculously hard cock and your mouth watered, finally seeing it in its full glory. You rested your tongue at the base of his long girthy member, with your eyes fixed on his ecstasy filled features. Slowly you made your way to the tip and swirled your tongue around it collecting all the precum. Your left hand held a steady pace at the base of his cock as you paid extra attention to the head. His self-conscious whimpering encouraged you and as the whimpering turned into loud moans the more you got turned on. When he began to subconsciously buck his hips you took it as a sign to take him deeper into your mouth. His hands rushed to grab your hair which inherently made you moan sending chilling vibrations down his shaft. That alone made him push you further down and the farther he made you go the more you thanked god for forgetting your gag reflex. Tears still stung your eyes at the lack of breathing room and you could feel his cock twitch at the back of your warm throat as you messaged his balls. Rafe was so fucking close to cumming down your throat, but he wanted to save it for your pretty pussy.

"I need to fuck you" He stated as he pulled you off his cock and stood up along with you. Rafe’s lips were immediately on your swollen lips and his hands traveled feverishly all over your body. He slowly backed you up until the backs of your legs touched the bed and he gave you a gentle push.

“You look so fucking hot” he groaned as he stared down at your naked body and stripped out of his shirt and sweats. He rummaged through his nightstand for a condom and you bit your lip as you watched him roll it down his throbbing cock. Rafe climbed back on top of you and searched your eyes for any sense of doubt, which you were completely void of, you never wanted anything so bad in your life before. His dark blue eyes were glossed over in lust and his only priority was to fuck the sadness right out of you. You wrapped your legs around his waist as the tip of his shaft traveled through your slick folds properly lubricating his pulsating member. Rafe brought you into another kiss before he slowly began to push into your desperate core. You both let out pleasure-filled groans as he inched further into you. After he finally bottomed out he took a second to relish at the feeling of your tight pussy around his aching cock.

“God, babe, you’re so tight,” he thought no matter how many times he will fuck you in the foreseeable future he will never be able to get over the feeling of your pussy. You’ve never felt so full and you just adored how his dick stretched you out. You already couldn’t wait to fuck Rafe Cameron again. He almost pulled out completely leaving the head barely in, before smashing back into you. The impact caused you to let out a loud moan, which Rafe quickly muffled with his mouth. He proceeded to relentlessly pound into your pussy. The short fast thrusts hardly let you catch your breath and the hand squeezing lightly around your neck wasn’t helping either. You could feel the warmness begin to boil in your stomach with each harsh thrust. Rafe was in love with the obscene noises that were coming from your dripping cunt with each one of his thrusts. He was also enamored by how your pussy would contract whenever he would apply even the slightest pressure on your beautiful throat. Rafe wasn’t going to last any longer and judging by the noises you were making neither were you. All you needed was just a little push, with his free hand he messaged quick little circles on your puffy clit.

“Rafe-- I��m--” You let out a strangled cry as he picked up his pace and paid attention to your bundle of nerves. Your legs began to shake uncontrollably and you let your eyes roll to the back of your head as you let the crashing waves of your orgasm take over. You let out a series of ear-splitting profanities paired along with Rafe’s name. The increased tightness in your pussy that came from your climax was enough to send Rafe into his and after just a couple more thrusts he came. His little moans and whimpers sounded like a symphony of overdramatic angels.

"We should do this more often" Rafe chuckled, before pulling out of you completely and leaned in for just one more kiss.

“Yes, definitely” you sighed in agreement and pecked his lips again as he was pulled away.

He rolled off of you and reached over to toss the used condom away. When he came back you lazily wrapped your arms around his neck and brought him down to lay on your chest. Rafe added on to the plethora of hickies that littered your neck as you played with his hair. You just wanted to stay that way forever encased in an intimacy you were scared of never feeling again, but like everything else it was short-lived. When you heard the sudden loud yammering of the girls busting through the front door both your bodies went rigid.

"Fuck" you both jumped up from the bed and desperately put your scattered clothes back on.

“Do I look presentable?”

“Almost--” He gently combed through your hair as you fixed his shirt and patted down his hair. The two of you took a deep breath before descending the stairs already being met with skeptical glances from the teenage girls sitting in the living room.

“Are you guys ready?” your sisters groaned out a yes and bid their goodbyes to the Cameron’s.

"Thanks for the clothes again, Rafe" you shot him a cheeky smile, but before you could even turn around to leave, thinking you've managed to not gather too many questioning looks between you and Rafe, he just couldn’t help himself and grabbed your face smashing your lips together.

#rafe cameron #rafe x you #rafe x reader #rafe smut #rafe cameron obx #rafe fic #rafe obx #my fic #pogueit

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