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spideyspeaches · 3 years

Text

Roller-coaster ↬ p.p

gif’s not mine

A/N: My take on What if Peter was in Wandavision? But with a twist ;) Beta read by my wifey @stars-aligning 🥰🥰

Warnings: canon typical voilence? mentions of death. Also the timeline doesn’t really make sense, just pretend everyone is of the same age. OH and Wandavision spoilers :)

WC: 9k (longest one shot I’ve ever written 😭)

Pairing: Peter Parker x ex!Reader

Masterlist || Taglist

"Ben? What's wrong? Why are you looking at her like that?"

"I- I don't. I don't know. She seems familiar."

"Familiar? Familiar how?"

"Like her and I don't belong here. Like we're from another world."

Working with Tony Stark as his intern, then head of the R&D and now working in the labs as the head of the department felt surreal, a fresh breath of air every time he looked at his desk, with his name written on it. It had been Peter’s dream to meet Tony Stark, maybe work with him too.

And then he got bit by a radioactive spider, giving him super strength, super eyesight and apparently super luck too, because though he liked to think that he was working in SI due to his intelligence, the spider bite did play a role in becoming his mentor’s favourite intern, without which he might have not had a chance to meet him hands on.

Tony kept reminding him that even if Peter had not been bit by the spider, he would have still secured a high position in Stark Industries, with his disarming intelligence that rivaled Tony’s own and charmingly trippy personality.

Peter begged to differ. But then again, he wasn’t one to look a gift horse in it’s mouth. Ever since he was a bushy haired, rosy cheeked jittery teenager, he had always worshiped the ground Tony walked on.

Peter remembers the day he got an anonymous letter, which turned out to be SHIELD's handiwork, asking him to join them in their base in New York, even if he insisted that he wasn't interested in being a superspy wannabe. He was skeptical at first, why would the most paranoid of paranoid agents send him a letter in mail? Him, twenty three years old Peter Parker, who lives in a shitty one bedroom apartment in Brooklyn with termite issues and smokes weed like the government is going to ban tobacco and is barely able to take care of himself with the overload of work.

Maybe it was just his Parker luck, or the fact that he was a freelance vigilante who looked after New York in a skintight spandex suit, because the safety of the people was apparently second in priority to the government. They'd rather have people die than have an illegal protector.

Yeah so Peter was salty, and what about It?

Slinging his satchel higher, he saw the sleek black car in confusion, trying to get a look at the number plate before the lift binged on arrival, walking into the open door. He swore he was either hallucinating or in midst of an intense flashback of the events that lead to what people dubbed as the 'Civil War', back to when he had been shaken out of his mind watching Tony Stark eat his aunt’s homemade walnut date loaf that had more salt than sugar.

His thoughts were put to a halt when he entered his and his aunt's old apartment in Queen’s after a long week of Spidey on mission and nearly getting (illegally) fired, footsteps coming to a pit stop. It's not like it's everyday you come face to face with Agent Coulson, Nick Fury and your ex not- really- girlfriend, somehow all in one day all together.

"So… um. What are you- What are you guys doing here again?" he asked, folding his hands on his chest defensively, leaning into his aunt's side as he whispered, "how long have they been sitting here?" from the corner of his mouth.

Fury raised a non-existent eyebrow, looking at him with a dagger for eye, making Peter shift nervously. Agent Coulson looked uncomfortable and You, You looked strangely in your element, sitting on the couch with one leg over the other, a neutral expression on your face.

Back when he was still in high school, when he'd first met you, he used to be in awe of how outgoing you were, seemingly adjusting in whichever situation you were thrown in. You had always accommodated to your surroundings, but with a start he realised that he had never seen you so… You in a while.

Not during your visit to the Avengers tower, not during the first time you came into his bedroom, all alone. Not when he had seen you take down a mugger on your way home from your first date without even as much as batting an eye.

"They were here ten minutes or so before you came home. It's creepy, as if they knew you were visiting," May answered with a whisper, wearily eyeballing them before moving towards the kitchen, leaving Peter unattended to Your and Fury's piercing gazes.

"I'm sure they know my monthly schedule before I do," Peter said, turning to look at the aforementioned agents. "So... you like, work for SHIELD, too?" He asked, wringing his hands to abate the tension in them.

"Yes, she does, but that's not what we're here for, Mister Parker," Fury said in his gruff voice, sitting back with a sauve expression. Peter gulped as Agent Coulson looked him in the eye, finally noticing the thin file he held in his hands.

"Well what are you here for?" Peter asked, mustering up some confidence as he tried not to look at You or the eye that Fury had that wasn’t covered by the patch.

"We need you to come to Westview, New Jersey with us," You said, a final no nonsense undertone in your voice. He shuddered when he heard you, remembering how soft and sweet you used to be. But that was before you disappeared out of nowhere, and apparently that nowhere was with SHIELD.

"Me as in Peter Parker or Spider-Man?" he asked, looking behind his shoulder to make sure May wasn't listening. It's not like she didn't know about his… nightly whereabouts, he just wasn't comfortable with making her worry. She already had too much to deal with, with the nephew by day and vigilante by night thing he had going on.

It was also a little concerning that the three in front of him knew that he was visiting her today. He wondered if his apartment was bugged (well, more than the daily roaches and ants) or if SHIELD had been keeping an eye on him after he had denied their offer, instead opting to stay in SI.

It was probably the second one, although the first one was entirely a possibility. He was going to need to talk with Mister Stark about debugging his shitty one bedroom apartment in Brooklyn.

"We need Peter Parker and his tech skills for this one," Fury said, before shoving the file in Peter's hands and crossing his own, “and my offer still stands.”

"For the last time, I'm not joining your little murderous boy band," Peter grumbled, scrunching his eyebrows as he looked at your twitching lips, as if holding in laughter. "I'm perfectly content with working with Dr. Connors in his little laboratory in SI."

Fury didn’t look convinced and opened his mouth to probably threaten Peter, when Aunt May came in with a tray of cookies. They smelled amazing, too good to be made by her, she probably brought them from Delmer’s.

“Oh- Were you…? I just thought you guys might want to eat something,” She said awkwardly, looking at Peter with pleading eyes.

“That’s very thoughtful of you, May! I would love to eat some of those, I’m famished,” You butt in, taking the tray from her with a smile.

“Um, May, you can um- you know?” Peter gestured, shifting on his legs, hoping that May would get the message before she stood for a minute too long. He didn’t like the way Nick Fury’s eye was looking at him, his tranquilizer gun suddenly visible from his leather jacket.

“Don’t be rude Pete, here May, I’ll help you get that.” You smiled, winking at him and dragging May by her arm, who was mouthing “she’s such a sweetheart” behind her shoulders.

"What if I told you that his man accidently got evicted due to some legal issues? And that now you're legally unemployed with severe financial issues that need to be looked after because the government suspects something illegal brewing?" Fury continued, looking him dead in the eye.

"Are you seriously blackmailing me? Threatening to unemploy me after all that shit you put me through with Mysterio?" Peter defended, raising a disbelieving eyebrow, watching you strutt back into the room, distracted by the sway of your hips in your mom jeans. He tried to shake the image, rolling his head to crack some tension that had built at the base of his skull.

"Mysterio was a mistake, Parker. This one is not; and we really need you for this one. Besides, remember that you're still a vigilante that hasn't signed the Accords of Sokovia."

Peter stiffened that the mention of the Accords. He thought the government was over it after the second amendment after the arrest of Thaddeus Ross, but apparently not.

"You said that last time and I almost died! My ex-girlfriend almost died, my best friend nearly died, heck half of Europe almost died because you Director Fury, apparently trust some superhero wannabe in a green and purple costume and overlook facts that could potentially harm someone. So the answer is clearly no!" he retorted, flopping the file on the table as he resisted the urge to sit on the floor flat on his back.

The three agents were looking at him with an unreadable expression, making him uncomfortable in his skin.

"Well, it's all up to you then." His voice had a finality to it, one that irked him to no end.

"Do I have a choice?" He sighed after a beat, looking at the three of you with a forlorn expression.

"Get your equipment ready, Mr. Parker. We'll be leaving for the camp tonight. You can read the details in this file." He heard Agent Coulson say (he was pretty sure his name was Phil), trying to make sense of how fast everything was going past the chronic tinnitus in his ears.

"It's Dr. Peter Parker," he muttered fruitlessly, blushing under your raised eyebrow.

***

"So, I didn't know you got a PhD. I knew you were smart, still are, considering that you're a PhD at twenty two," You said, sipping on your virgin mojito, and placing the mug in front of you.

Peter had taken you to a cafe after the confrontation, wanting to know more about your whereabouts and how he had not noticed that you were a superspy all of his high school years. You had retorted with a simple "I'm a spy, that's why,” which he found pretty badass.

"Well, yeah, I did my undergraduate and PhD together." He shrugged casually, looking out of the window to avoid looking at you.

You had always been beautiful, but somehow, you had become even more beautiful than the last time Peter saw you.

"That sounds brutal. Only you can manage that," You joked. You weren't going to admit it, but you had missed being with Peter, joking with him and watching his beautiful side profile as he blushed under your scrutinizing gaze.

"So, um. This thing, what is it about?" Peter asked, snapping you out of your daze.

"Huh? Oh it's a long story. Like really long, if this was a TV show it would take five episodes for me to explain." You gestured, dismissing his scowl. "Okay, so you remember that time when that super high security facility was broken in back in december 2019?"

"Which super high facility? There are a lot of break ins happening in high security facilities in America, and it's more than concerning, considering they're supposed to be super high security." He said, fiddling with his own drink.

"Okay, Yeah that's true. It was a S.W.O.R.D facility, and long story short, Wanda Maximoff kidnapped her corpse husband to reenact the dad-knows-best suburban lifestyle with an entire town held as her hostage." You said, looking over your shoulders to make sure no one was listening.

"Wanda stole Vision's corpse? Wait, is this about Westview? 'The Town that ceased to exist'? Is that what happened? Is this some sort of mind control thing? Cause I know she can make people believe what she wants them to..." Peter whispered, leaning in to show that he was interested. You took a moment to admire his front profile, his broken nose and dimpled chin, rosy lips and sharp cheekbones, accidently zoning out on his theories.

Leaning forward, you brought a hand up his face, pushing a stray curl behind his ears, cutting him short of his rambling.

"W-what?" He stuttered, his breath hitching, making the table shake with a wince.

"You have nice hair." You commented with a smirk, caressing his hair one more time.

"You said that in the senior's party too, and well, there's no sex happening anytime soon." He said, rolling his eyes, sitting back in his hair with his hands folded on his chest.

"I like being optimistic." You rolled your own eyes, heart beating a mile a minute at the reminder of your relationship- ex relationship with Peter, "so what were you saying about Westview? I kind of zoned out."

You watched him roll his eyes again, trying not to let your eyes wander around his biceps and the little bit of his collarbones peeking from his shirt, unbuttoned from the top, also exposing the thin chain that he always seems to be wearing. With a start you realised that it was the one you had gifted him on his eighteenth birthday.

"So this town, Westview, it just disappeared right? Behind a barrier of sorts? Is it like, coming from an energy source? Was it created by Wanda? " he asked, ever his inquisitive self.

"Yeah, apparently she's created an alternate reality, sitcom style, with the people of Westview trapped in it."

"So she's basically starring in a fanfiction alternate reality of sorts but a sitcom format? Wouldn't blame her, poor woman's been through a lot." He nodded, shifting in his seat. He could feel your eyes burning a hole in his skull, shifting uncomfortably in his chair. "Are you staying in a hotel? Or a shield facility?"

"Nope," You answered, leaning back on your chair. "Am I still allowed to stay in your room? With the doors open?"

He watched you with narrowed eyes, tilting his head with a smirk, replying to you with a nod, "alright."

***

"Did you pack your mittens? The extra warm ones with a built in heater? You know you're susceptible to frost bites-"

"May! I packed my mittens." Peter murmured, ducking his head in embarrassment as he raised an eyebrow at your amused smile.

"Okay, okay, that's great. Socks? Painkillers? Extra pair of glasses?" she asked, fumbling around the room like she did whenever he went on field trips.

"Yes, May!"

"Great. Stay safe, okay?" Her eyes softened, holding his cheeks in his hand like he was a seven year old, living with them with a knowledge of death no seven year old should have. Sighing, he leant into her palm, holding his own hand encompassing her small one. Giving her a smile, he kissed her cheek. “Ti amo, May. I’ll call you once I get there, okay?”

She nodded, pulling him into her embrace, though she knew full well that he’s going to forget to call her, too excited to be in the vicinity of multiple certified geniuses and other figures of authority.

***

"Is there anything I should know about? Like anything unexpected?" Peter asked, looking at the camp in awe as the jeep pulled over makeshift gates, a bunch of soldiers surrounding them.

Peter was used to seeing the hustle and bustle of camps, considering all the missions he had gone through with the Avengers, back when Steve wasn’t retired and the newer generation of avengers hadn’t entered.

“Your blood’s radioactive, right?” You asked, turning to face him with a smile.

“Yeah. Why? Is that relevant?” he replied, raising an eyebrow as he saw someone carrying his bags before he could protest.

“Well, Dr. Lewis found out about this hexagonal anomaly, no one really knows what it is, but the source seems to be emitting huge amounts of radiations,” You said, getting off the jeep, pulling Peter out with you. Walking towards the crowded camp, you came face to face with the tent where everything was set up.

“Doctor Darcy Lewis?” Peter said, looking at the place in awe. It wasn’t extravagant, but the technology surrounding the tent, the vans and what seemed to be a broadcasting antenna were all way beyond the regular one used in tech companies, which is funny, considering he’s been working with Mr. Stark his whole teenage life.

“Yup, that’s her, nerd.”

“So, what exactly is this Hexagon? Is it, like, a barrier of sorts? Can everyone go in?” He asked, looking around with glinting eyes, lips twitching in a smirk as he saw the barrier in question. His super hearing caught the static sound it emitted, wincing at the sharp noises. His boots crunched under the snow as he felt the thing pull him towards it, your voice muffled by the noises of the hex.

It was something he had never seen before, like the static of a TV with a lost signal, glowing red in places as if reaching out to him. His senses seemed dull, the world greying around the way it had before he was bit by the radioactive spider. The spider bite had enhanced his vision in a way that he saw colours not visible to the human eye, a technicolour wonder that even Bruce couldn’t solve.

He felt a tug, looking down at his shoes, wondering if he had just imagined it.

“Mom and dad have been, not fighting, just like different.”

He swore he felt a white light flash in front of him, his spidey sense buzzing at the base of his skull, tingling all the way to his spine as he straightened up to dissipate the feeling, shifting awkwardly.

“Only Captain Rambeau has gone in and come back intact so far. It’s emitting a colossal amount of cosmic microwave background radiation, also known as CMBR, and once you get into it, your mind doesn’t really stay your own, so no one has volunteered other than her. Everyone knows the risk,” You said, startling him, a sharp contrast to the voices that seemed to have suddenly accumulated in his brain.

“If you’re going to break the sound barrier, please just take your brother with you!”

‘Sound barrier?’ he thought, looking back at the hex as it flashed red, the tug strong enough to make him stumble in his place. You looked at him weirdly, asking if he was okay, but he wasn’t listening, turning to ask you what the red flash meant, distortion evident in the barrier.

“Captain Rambeau? The daughter of the director of SWORD?” he asked instead.

“Yeah, that’s her.”

“Damn.” He sighed, running a gloved hand through his hair, and dragging it down his face.

Walking inside the tent, Peter was hit with a face full of cold air, and the hundreds of monitors nearly gave him a sensory overload. The people running around didn’t help, either. “Where do I keep this?” He asked, pointing to his bag full of equipment that Fury had asked for.

“You can set up over here, newbie,” A new voice said chirpily. Turning around, he came face to face with the Darcy Lewis, eyes widening as he took in her smiley presence, another human who he didn't recognise standing behind her. “Sorry, I didn’t introduce myself! I’m Doctor D-”

“Darcy Lewis, I know- I’m a fan!”

“Aw look at you, you have a fanboy at your hand,” Captain Monica Rambeau said, strutting in and keeping a hand on her shoulder, confidence radiating off of her every pore.

"And… You are?" he asked awkwardly, looking pointedly at the FBI agent. He saw Darcy hide a snicker behind her hand, patting his shoulder and shoving him forward.

The man fell forward, steadying himself on the table before he flicked a card seemingly out of nowhere. "Agent Jimmy Woo, FBI,” he said proudly, a smile on his cute little baby face. Peter was left staring in awe, wondering how he had done that.

"Wait, can you do that again? How did you do that?!"

"It's cool, isn't it? I could teach you if you want."

"Yes, of course, but how did you do it? It appeared out of nowhere and if you take in consideration the law of conservation of mass, it can neither be created nor be destroyed and it just seemed to have accumulated-"

"It's a trick of illusion. You see, when I opened my palms, I-"

"Peter, let's set things up shall we?" You interrupted their session, a smirk on yours and the other women's faces, shaking your head.

Ditching the bag on the counter, he nodded, willing his heart to stop beating out of his chest. This was the coolest thing that had ever happened to him next to Tony Stark sitting on his aunt’s old futon. And the magic trick.

“This is the coolest day of my life,” he whispered, shrugging when you chuckled at his excitement. “Ned’s going to freak out.”

“Wait until you see the schematics and control panels.” You smirked, making him raise an eyebrow as he blushed, the flush apparent from his neck to his ear. The others scattered just as he finished setting his station up, fidgeting with the radio, when the voice of Hayward boomed across the cubicle.

“Ah, Mister Parker!” he says, a faux smile on his face as he looks at the station, making Peter shift uncomfortably. The weird tingling of his spidey-sense came up again, his hand automatically reaching there to scratch at the itch.

“Here we go again,” Darcy muttered, patting Peter’s back, her eye roll loud enough for him to glance at her.

“It- It’s doctor,” he muttered, hearing a “he gets me” from Darcy.

“Very well, Doctor Parker it is, then. I’m Hayward, welcome to SWORD.”

“SWORD? I thought this was a SHIELD thing?”

“...Fury didn’t brief you?”

“He did! He was just very vague, hence why I’m asking. What exactly have I been called here for?”

The silence that took over was palpable, with you shifting awkwardly as Hayward eyeballed them all, looking at the five of them morosely before saying, “Brief him Monica,” and leaving.

“God, is every higher official such a dick here?” Peter grumbled, watching him retreat, shaking his head as he threw the ball of paper he hadn’t noticed he had been fidgeting with.

“See? He agrees, I like him.” Darcy nodded, pulling him with her towards the briefing table.

“This all started when the town of Westview disappeared after the second blip,” Monica said, pulling up holographs that showed the image of people reappearing from the snap, his breathing increasing in pace as he remembered vaguely of his own reappearance.

The whole situation was fucked up. After stealing Vision’s corpse, Wanda had basically resurrected him, holding and controlling thousands of people, an entire fucking town. Looking at the list of all the missing people, his eyes zeroed on to one particular face. He racked his memory to remember who exactly it was, mouth hanging open when he realised who exactly she was.

“Is that… is that Agatha Harkness?” Peter said, pointing at the woman who had no name written under her photograph.

“You know her real name?” Darcy asked, looking at him with raised eyebrows as he nodded, wringing his hands around.

“Yeah, Wanda told me about her, she’s the witch from the Salem trials!”

“How is she significant to the plot, though?”

“She... she mentored Wanda, before she went to the dark side."

In the time he knew Wanda, she had been the sweetest person ever. She was like an older sister he didn’t know he needed, empathising with him on a cosmic level. They had come close before the events of Thanos happened. She was his person, and they shared a lot of secrets, this one being one of them.

“That’s one connection to her. What about the others? She keeps telling Vision that she doesn’t know what’s happening, but when the drone strike happened, she looked straight at the camera, like she knew,” Monica intervened.

“He tried to deploy a drone strike? In front of her children, after knowing very well that she saw her parents die in the Sokovian attack when she was ten? Is he fucking insane?!” Peter seethed, nearly crashing his fist on the table hard enough for cracks to appear on it.

“Peter, hey, calm down! You breaking things is not going to make the situation any better, okay? He already tried to chuck us out of this, you don’t go around breaking things now!” You said, holding him still as his body shook. You had never seen him this angry, and frankly, you would never want to see it again.

Peter was a sweet person, respecting people’s boundaries and always so understanding. He was the embodiment of good, even after living a fucked up life, he never projected his trauma on the other. He wore his emotions on his sleeves, and your heart clenched every single time, seeing him in pain.

"Listen, that's my sister in there, and she has no idea what she's doing. She needs our help and I'll do anything to help that woman and if you guys even think of hurting her I will make sure each of you regret it," Peter hissed, staring daggers at the silent team members of the room.

“Is there any way to reach there?” he asked, more softly than before. Darcy exchanged a look with Agent Woo and Monica, opening her mouth before knowing better and shutting it. “What?! Is there a way to communicate with her?”

“Follow us,” the brown woman said, breathing deeply as she looked at the other two silently.

"Where are we going?" Peter asked, fidgeting with your fingers. He hadn't noticed himself holding your hands, your lips twitching when you realised he had done that unconsciously.

“Trust me, I don’t know half the things these ladies do,” Woo whispered, and Peter nodded along seriously.

“Whoa, I feel like there’s a secret underground base here! Is there a secret underground base?”

“Well, it’s not underground, and not really a secret anymore,” Captain Rambeau said, unravelling a curtain, revealing a small space with a million monitors and a wooden desk littered with laptops and too many empty coffee cups.

“This is so cool,” You whispered, watching in awe as Dracy lit up the screens, revealing various codes and stuff you didn’t really understand. Peter was already invested, babbling about codes and addresses and hidden files within hidden files, things that flew over your head at the speed of Darcy’s fingers on the keypad.

Leaning on the table with one hand, Your eye caught a flat round metal looking thing on the ground, picking it up and tracing it with your fingers. “Is this… a bullet?!”

“Yeah, it was hit on that suit, which turns out to be 87% kevlar. That happened when Captain shot at it,” Jimmy answered, giving you a smile as you dropped your jaw.

“She went in wearing a bulletproof vest right? Wanda just… manifested a dress made of kevlar?” You wondered, your words interrupted by Peter’s yelp.

“So, remember how Director Douchebag ordered a drone strike on Wanda?” she said, contemplating her words next as everyone turned towards her. “Turns out he’s been planning something else.”

“What’s that?” Jimmy asked, pointing at the screen, which displayed two boxes full of what seemed like cells.

“That’s Monica’s blood work, he’s been tracking it the whole time. The first time you travelled to the hex? It changed your cellular structure on a molecular level, twice.” She said.

A sombre expression took over the older woman’s face, pursing her lips. “He thinks I’m gaining powers.” Monica nodded.

“I may not be a genetic engineer, but from what I’m seeing here, he’s most likely right,” Peter interrupted, a silence taking over everyone. “He’s keeping track of the enhanced, if I’m not wrong.”

Shaking his head, he clenched his eyes when he heard another voice. You watched him weirdly, reaching to ask him if he was okay, before retracting your hand.

“Chill out sis, it’s not like you can kill your dead husband twice.”

“You’re right. He’s been tracking everyone who’s enhanced, including Vision.” Dracy said, typing something on the screen to show you the map of Westview, pulsing red and blue dots appearing in your sight.

“Do you know what his endgame is?”

“Yeah. Rebooting Vision.”

Peter inhaled sharply, trying not to let his face show the anger inside him as he looked at Monica with wide eyes, both of them looking at each other dangerously, both of them realising same thing.

“Then, I’m going in. Someone needs to tell her,” he said, looking at the others for affirmation.

You took a step back, gulping in anticipation of his words. Reaching out with a hand, you stared at him, hoping he wouldn't lash out. "Peter, you have to know, the hex is a dangerous place. You won't even remember who you are so there’s no point in you going in. You won’t be able to convince her to magically leave her hostages, she’ll just see you as an outsider and throw you out-"

"Captain Rambeau went in and she was able to get out!" he argued.

"Peter, I was tossed out because she saw me as a threat. She might not do that to you but going in that thing is dangerous, especially with your mutations-"

"I don't give a fuck about my mutation! You of all people should know how it feels like to lose family, Monica," Peter said, looking at her. The fire in his eyes spoke volumes. No one dared to intervene.

"Peter, your mutation could potentially kill you. You know the risks of going past the barrier due to your enhancements. The radiations are altering DNA to a molecular level, your cells-”

"-are already metastasizing! My spider DNA is going to get me killed some day because my body won’t be able to handle it anymore, so I don't care, I'm going and that's final." He nodded, puffing his chest to show that he wasn't going to step down.

"Fine, I'll come with you then," You said, looking at him as you said that. A lump formed in your throat as you realised that he was so willing to sacrifice himself, and blood pumped in your veins as determination set in along with a rush of adrenaline.

"Do as you please." He shrugged, pursing his lips, but his eyes were a different story. You felt sick, insides tearing themselves up as you took a good look at him and his pallor, the artificial lights illuminating the scar tissues on his face. Ones that you knew were inflicted by his years of being the friendly neighbourhood Spider-Man.

***

“Maximoff is never gonna negotiate with us,” Hayward said, circling the table as Monica looked at him with disbelief in her expression. “We’ll need all the guns we have here to stop her.”

“We can’t outgun her, but what we can do is try and talk her out of this. Antagonising her is only making things worse. If Wanda is the problem, she has to be our solution!” Monica argued, looking forward.

“She’s already killed thousands during the Sokovian attack. How do you guarantee that she won’t kill another person she finds threatening?!”

“She was guilty about it. It wasn’t her fault, do not bring that into this.”

“Yeah? Well, the guilt isn’t going to bring back the dead children is it?”

"The dead children aren't coming back, but those people trapped in Westview? They can, if you fucking let us!"

"Fine. But someone will be monitoring you."

Negotiations with your boss and commanding team of SWORD concerning the ship was a tough feat. you had finally convinced them to let you and Peter go across the border, but Darcy and Monica were to be on the radio in case everything went amiss.

Sitting in the (illegally acquired) van, you watched Jimmy, who was trying to teach Peter the card trick, invested in the trick yourself. Leaning forward to get a better view, you tried not to let the rush of blood in your cheeks get to you at the close proximity with Peter, heart pounding with every step you took closer to the hex.

“I did it! I finally did it, Y/N, look!” Peter said, showing you the trick, smiling at his childlike enthusiasm.

“That’s great! You should show it to Morgan, she’ll like it.”

“How do you know about Morgan?”

“I know everything.”

You may have been bluffing, but he seemed to have caught on your cue, the awkward tension reappearing as he shifted in his seat, twisting and turning and going back to the magic trick. You tried not to smile, but your mouth never did coordinate with your brain.

“We’re here,” the driver said, parking the van.

“Okay let’s go through this again: Captain Rambeau and Dr. Lewis will be on the radio while you try and get in, stay near a radio as much as you can so we can try and communicate, and do not try to meddle with Wanda,” Jimmy said, going over your checklist.

You were skeptical of the plan, thinking about how successful your mission was going to be, considering how powerful she had become in her own little sitcom. You had heard of her expanding the borders just after you had started driving near it.

“You ready?” Peter asked, taking your hand as you nodded, and wrapped your fingers around his knuckles, before taking a deep breath.

“I’m ready.” You nodded, looking over your shoulders to see the FBI agent giving you a thumbs up, muttering something into the comms. Looking back at Peter, you felt dizzy with the buzzing anxiety, the pull of the barrier strong.

Stepping close to it, you felt electricity buzz in your veins, shuddering at the chilling sensation and sudden exposure to stimuli, your gut twisting the more your hand went in the hexagonal anomaly. You swore you felt your physical being tear apart, your life flashing in front of you in a white hot light, your brain was practically mush with how much force you needed just to get in.

"I thought we would be able to get in easily!" Peter shouts, his screams echoing in your eardrums, mixed with your own screams.

"She's becoming more powerful the longer she stays inside, and so is the hex," You replied, gasping for a breath as you tried to move forward.

With a final scream, you closed your eyes at the static sound bombarded your ears, you couldn't fathom how loud it must be for Peter, sending a look towards him. His eyes were scrunched, hands curled around his head and ears to stop the sound. Before you could comment on his state, your own vision doubled, bright green and magenta lights appearing out of nowhere, the coiling of your gut intensifying, and before you knew it, the strong force pulled you inside, throwing you off on the hard concrete of the road, and everything went dark.

***

“I’m okay. I’m okay. Everything is alright,” Wanda said, repeating the phrase like a mantra as she sat on the couch.

She repeated the phrase like clockwork, just like being a mom to two half synthezoid pre-teens and the gatekeeper of Westview. Snapping out of her daze, she felt something in her brain stir, realising with a start that something had been messing with the barrier-- or, rather, someone.

Closing her eyes, she willed her powers, similar to the ones Tommy had, to look past the barrier, opening her eyes with a flash when she saw a familiar face.

“Peter,” she muttered, the brown eyed boy who she had come to think of as a brother materialising in front of her, dropping on the carpet with a thud as his unconscious form fell on top of Yours. Wanda remembered you from all the stories Peter had told her about.

Crouching down, she reached out to touch you both. Her eyes glowing red as she held a finger to your and his forehead, scrunching her eyelids as she navigated both of your heads.

A lonely young girl was seen sitting on a rock, the wind blowing wisps of her dark hair along with her dress. Suddenly, the noise of clucking of horseshoes could be heard, a woman coming into view as she got off her horse.

“Feeling lonely and afraid at the middle of the night when you’re a young and beautiful teenage girl?” the woman in the cowgirl shoes said, holding her hip as the girl nodded. “Well, don’t worry, every young girl must have a sword at her disposal!”

“A sword?” the young girl asked, tilting her head as she took the object in her hand.

“Yes, a s.w.o.r.d, my dear. Fear not, for the sword will protect you from all the hexes around you.”

The girl smiled, looking at the camera with the cowgirl’s hands on her shoulder. “A sword to protect the young!”

Buy now at your nearest convenience store, terms and conditions apply.

“What are you two doing here and not at school?” Wanda chortled, startling the two who were now very much conscious. The boy moved, fisting his eyes, and he curled his hands to stretch the kinks that seemed to have appeared out of nowhere, the varsity jacket scrunching underneath his fists.

“Babe?” the boy groaned, messing up his hair, looking at the general direction of the girl.

Putting on a smile, Wanda folded her arms, biting her lips at how adorable the two of you were.

“Ben? Is that you?” the girl asked, looking at her disheveled frock with a confused expression, finally noticed the woman standing in front of her. “Oh my god, babe, I swear we were at the bleachers not long ago. Did you manifest teleportation powers now?”

“Miss Maximoff! You’re Billy and Tommy’s mom! Babe, we’re in Billy and Tommy’s house!” The guy, Ben said, his voice rising up an octave as he looked at his surroundings.

He couldn't remember much about the Maximoffs, except that his neighbours talk about the weird mom and dad almost everyday in the gossip sessions. Whatever, he wasn't interested in them.

"She turned them into teenagers."

"Well there goes our plan. Do we still have back up ready?"

“That’s right, kids. Now, what were you two naughty children doing out of school?” Wanda asked, helping the two kids get up as the boy blushed, stuttering an apology.

“We- we weren’t ditching, I swear, Miss Maximoff! We were just-”

"-Doing homework! Because… because Ben's a nerd and he doesn't like that he gets behind because of the baseball team!" the girl said, stuttering as Ben nodded along with her.

“Yeah! We weren't making out or anything! Even if we're totally dating."

Their relationship wasn't exactly your normal relationship. It was more of a… mutually beneficial relationship.

Well, so far they had the entire town fooled, having them all think that a guy such as Benjamin Fitzpatrick would ever date a girl like her, who liked her books more than her siblings.

"Hmm, well, thankfully, I'm a cool mom and I will not tell your parents about this… thing. Whatever it was. Anyone want cheesecake?" Wanda smiled, clapping her hands once as she looked at the two teenagers.

Ben's stomach growled at the thought of food. "You don't have to do it, Miss Maximoff, but I would love some," he said, sheepishly looking at the ground, and wincing at another growl.

Wanda chuckled, patting the boys back kindly. "Oh honey, it's alright. Come on, don't be shy, the both of you!" she said, looking over her shoulder and saying, "and it's just Wanda! Miss Maximoff makes me feel old, you know."

They followed her to the kitchen, taking in the interior of the house. Ben's eyes caught something from the corner, it was almost as if it was… flickering? Shaking his head, he dug his fingers in his eyes, wondering if he was still feeling the effects of the time he had hit his head during the baseball practice.

"You okay?" the girl asked, keeping a hand on his shoulder to steady him.

"Yeah, probably the aftereffects of a concussion." He nodded, burrowing his brows in confusion.

"Hmm, should probably get that thick little noggin of yours checked by the nurse." She snickered, hitting his shoulders playfully. Her heart was beating fast, he noted, wondering how he could hear it so clearly. The thought that he would have to leave her after she gets a date for prom made him sad.

They may be faking their relationship, but he had caught on very fast and realised that he wanted it to be real. As real as the town of Westview.

Wait, what?

"You know we don't have to pretend anymore, right?" Ben said, looking at the girl as she came to a halt. Miss Maximoff was nowhere in sight, the house eerily silent with her heartbeat echoing in his ears.

"This is the best ship SWORD could ever make."

The awkward silence was interrupted by the opening of the front door, a loud jingle as Agnes came strutting in, a big smile on her face. It made Ben's neck sting weirdly, slapping his hand at the base to nullify the feeling.

"Hello, children! What are you doing, skipping school like the little troublemakers you are?" She grinned, pinching each of their cheeks as her voice took a baby-like tone to it. Ben took a step back, grimacing as she continued pinching his cheeks.

"Um, we weren't- we have no idea actually-"

"Agnes! Oh, what great timing! Were you here for Billy and Tommy?" Wanda came in, a plate full of cheesecake and crackers in her hand.

"Oh, Wanda, Wanda, Wanda! Your little troublemakers are already in my house, or did you forget?" She chuckled, the sound of her laughter taking a higher pitch.

Wanda furrowed her brows, opening her mouth to say something, before closing it, a grin taking over. "Right. Yeah, of course! They really love it there with you, huh?"

"That's right, everybody loves Auntie Agnes!"

Ben looked at his girlfriend again, feeling strangely out of place between the two women.

"Um, Miss Ma- Wanda? C-Can we go now? I feel like-"

"Oh, Ben, don't be ridiculous! Why don't you sit down and take a breather? You look pale, hon." Wanda smiled, setting down the plate and ushering the two kids on the table, both of whom looked at the table with hunger in their eyes. Well, it had been long since lunch break.

"Thank you for the cheesecake Mi- uh, Wanda, we appreciate it," the girl said, promptly digging in after the affirmation.

***

Vision knew something was wrong the moment Agnes showed signs of knowing what was going on. The first time it happened, he was sure his paranoid wife would do something, but she had continued to act as if nothing was wrong with Agnes' behaviour.

Walking down the road in his ridiculous costume, he nearly sighed in resignation, before he realised that he wasn't capable of such human actions.

One more thing that perplexed him to no end was his strangely human behaviour. It was as if someone was forcing him to act more human, some weird force that was so unlike Wanda's warm presence, something more foreign and way out of his realm (like the gum incident. He sure did remember Wanda chastising him for doing this atrocity, surely she couldn't have been the one controlling him? Right?).

His mechanical heart ached for his wife. She had gone through a lot, from what he had read from her thoughts; losing a brother (twice, if the absence of Pietro was anything but a confirmation), and then him (it didn't bother him much. He was a synthezoid, there was entirely a possibility that he could be revived).

He just really missed her, he realised. Their relationship had been strained ever since the boys were born. He didn't blame the drift on his boys, of course. He loved them to no end, would sacrifice himself for them, but he couldn't help but notice the change it brought in Wanda.

The arrival of Pietro 2.0 didn't help either.

His thoughts were interrupted as his feet halted their movements, and with a snap he realised that he had somehow made it to Ellis avenue, the border's static buzzing through his entire being.

"You look lost, buddy," a strange man said.

Looking at the man, Vision tilted his head, looking through the database of Westview to see that the man seemed to be nowhere in the records. How had he made it here?

"I- I'm sorry, who are you?" He asked, leaning against the car door to peer inside, the man sitting rigid. It was only then did he realise that the man's eyes seemed… glazed, almost like he wasn't aware. Looking back at the barrier, Vision gaped at the view in front of him.

The man's car was half inside and half outside the barrier, the slow moving particles seemed to be disintegrating the vehicle, watching in awe as sparks flew the closer the barrier came to the man.

"Listen, you have to get out of here before that thing destroys you." Vision tried shaking the man, but to no avail. His attempts were in vain as the man simply grunted. "Listen! Can you hear me? What's happening? Why is the barrier moving?"

He tried opening the door, but it was shut firmly. Groaning, he punched the door, nearly falling to catch the falling man, who was mumbling some incoherent mumbo jumbo.

"Wanda, what are you up to...?" Vision muttered to himself, realising with a start that the barrier was expanding and the man had come from outside the barrier.

Looking at the muttering man, he quickly moved them both away from the barrier, propping him up against the grass.

"I'm sorry," Vision said, his hands gliding yellow as he touched the man's forehead, his own circuits being bombarded with incoherent noises.

"Oh god! I'm sorry, please save me! Please, this hurts, this- you- you're the Vision!" the man screamed.

"Yes, I'm the Vision! Now, can you stay still? I'm trying to help you!"

"-Please! She's in my head!"

His hands lit up again, the yellow light smothering the man's forehead as he went still again, as Vision retracted his hands regretfully. Opting to leave the man there, he stood up again, startling once again that day when he heard a shrill cry, the body of… Geraldine? Appearing out of the barrier. Shaking his head, he was convinced that he was hallucinating, if that was even possible for a droid, and turned around to walk back home.

(Agatha gave a satisfied chuckle, purple sparks erupting from her fingers as she turned back to Wanda, pretending that that didn't just happen.)

***

"Do you think our school is a little… solitary?" Ben asked, inhaling a puff of smoke from the blunt in his hands. His girlfriend and him were sitting on the rooftop of Westview high, their feet swinging against the edge as she clutched at Pe- Ben for dear life.

Peter? Who was that?

"Did you see that?? Peter was right, that was Agatha Harkness and she's been the one manipulating the people, it never was Wanda! It was meant to be a plot twist, but I totally predicted it."

"Um…"

"What? I'm invested."

Peter?

Y/n? Can you hear me? Please say yes if you can hear me.

She noticed the static sound of the radio speaking to someone. The static noise increased, and Ben didn't seem to have noticed the small portable radio malfunctioning. Shrugging it off, she went back to passing the blunt from her boyfriend.

Boyfriend. The word ignited a flame in her chest. Ben, who she faked her dates with once upon a time, now was her actual, real boyfriend, who she was ditching homework to smoke a blunt with, uncaring of her nearing curfew. Her parents would have her head if she found out.

"Do you hear that?" She asked, exhaling the stale air from her lungs. She knew it was more of the deep breathing than the weed, but it made her feel serene.

"I've been hearing a lot of things lately." He croaked, clearing his throat, sniffing the air as he leaned back, his Adam's apple bobbing with every gulp. His glasses were sliding off his face. She reached to push them back up, smiling at the flush of his face.

"What do you mean by that?" she asked, slipping her fingers through his, rubbing a hand on his back. His life had been difficult, she knew about him being an orphan, but she didn't know he was having a hard time with life at the very moment, her heart aching for the poor boy.

"I don't know, I keep hearing these voices in my head. Children screaming, people crying, and this… this buzz at my neck, I can't ignore it anymore! I feel like I'm going insane and I can't keep them quiet! I've tried, but it's like they're trying to communicate with me."

Her eyes softened, hands running through his thick, straight hair as he leaned his head on her shoulder. Suddenly, the height at which they were sitting on didn't matter, she had him in her arms.

"He broke the fourth wall. He's been hearing things, just like Billy."

Wiping away his tears, she kissed his forehead, rubbing her hands gently on his back.

"It's gonna be okay. You're okay, they'll go away soon." She reassured, folding her legs to get up, and pulling him up with her. "It's getting late, and mom will have my head if I'm later than curfew."

"You've broken curfew before." He chuckled, stepping closer to Her, his hands on her hips.

Moving forward, she enclosed her hands around his shoulders, intertwining her fingers at the nape of his neck. Standing on her highest tip toes, she crashed her lips into his, their bodies swaying with the cold wind.

"Awww, they're so cute! Exes to lovers, I like it."

"I agree. Didn't see the fake dating coming though."

"Right?! Wanda should start a production company."

"If Agnes lets these people go."

***

Meanwhile, Monica had managed to find an abandoned shack in the backyard of Wanda's neighbour's house, her body buzzing with a familiar tension.

Opening the shack, she saw the trails of purple, vein like thing running their tracks until they reached somewhere she couldn't see. She didn't notice another person creeping up on her, too busy looking at the trails.

"Snoopers gonna snoop," the voice said, making her jump out of her skin, and keeping a hand on her heaving chest to stop her from hyperventilating.

"Pietro?!" She startled, looking around to see if anyone had heard her. The neighbourhood was eerily silent, leaning against the wall, before deciding against it and squared her shoulders, looking at the man in front of her.

"Yeah, that's me. But who are you? And what are you doing in Margie's backyard?" he asked defensively. She would have found the expression comical if it wasn't for her racing heart and adrenaline filled brain.

"I could ask you the same thing," she said, folding her arms to show a defensive stance.

"I'm here because… I live here?" he muttered, borrowing his brows as his eyes glazed over again, "Yeah, wait, no... I live with my sister! Who lives two houses from here! What am I doing here?"

"I don't know, you tell me."

"God, this is so weird. First Wanda was being weird, now I am."

"What do you mean?"

"Nothing."

***

Billy was afraid. He knew that he should be stronger and braver, if not for himself, then for Tommy. His momma always told him that the only thing to fear was fear itself, and he didn't know what that meant, but he knew that he had to be braver to get back to his mom and dad.

"Billy, I'm scared," Tommy whimpered. "I'm hearing voices again."

"It's gonna be okay, Mom and Dad will be here soon," he reassured, just as scared as his brother. They were only twelve minutes apart, but he still felt a responsibility for him.

Mom said that they both reminded of her own brother- Uncle Pietro.

Hearing the door open, he felt a chill crawl up his spine.

"She's here! Billy, she's here!"

"I know! I know! Shh!"

Her footsteps came closer, the cackling of her laughter making his heart pound. His brother buried himself in his shoulders, both of them huddled next to each other, as if the inevitable could be avoided.

"How are my best boys doing?" Agnes' shrill voice rang, making Billy breathe faster.

"We want Mommy," Tommy whimpered, sounding as small as Billy felt.

"Oh, I'm sorry honey, that's not happening anytime soon." She tsked, sounding as apologetic as the villains in the action movies his mom forbade him from watching.

"Why's that?" Billy asked, squaring his shoulders as much as he could.

"You didn't hear? Mommy's dead."

And his world crashed, his brain crowding with darkness.

A/N: Lemme know what you think! 😁😁

#wandavision #wandavision au #wandavision spoilers #peter parker x avenger!reader #peter parker x reader #peter parker smut #peter parker x reader smut #peter parker x stark!reader #peter x reader #dark!peter parker #wanda x vision #jimmy woo #darcy lewis #monica rambeau #spideygirl writes #queue tea

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milliethekitty27-writing · 3 years

Text

The Ladder

In a hole in the ground, there lived a lonely hobbit. It all started when Bilbo grew tired of his empty kitchen.

He hadn’t been fond of eating alone since the dwarves destroyed his pantry, but he hadn’t after Frodo joined him in Bag End. He’d eaten with the elves in Rivendell, which had been full of lovely music and pleasant conversation, and then he’d eaten with the elves, Frodo, and Gandalf when they’d traveled to the Undying Lands.

Now he was here, in Yavanna’s Garden, living in what was basically Bag End. (the actual Bag End was right next door for his parents) He had his beautiful garden back, which only mattered really because he’d been brought back to his youthful self with working hands. The house was always clean (and he’d never really liked cleaning, so that didn’t matter much to him) so he had all the time in the world to work on his maps and his stories. He got the occasional social call from neighbors or family. He ate dinner with his parents on Thursdays and went over to their home on Sundays for family nights with many cousins and aunts and uncles, but he spent the rest of his time alone. He got the same whispers he had in the Shire, but he was satisfied with his cooking and working in the garden. Except… on the days there were no social calls, no family dinners, Bilbo Baggins sat in a very quiet house and talked to nothing.

“You know-” Bilbo said to no one in particular as he weeded a particularly stubborn patch of grass out from underneath his rose bush. There was a basket of tomatoes ready to be made into a sauce, or maybe used the fish tonight, but he’d seen the weeds and wanted to deal with it before it spread. “-I would have expected the garden to take care of itself when I died. Not to be doing the same tasks as before. But here we are, fighting with weeds, aren’t we Tho-” Bilbo stopped, shook his head, and pushed that thought aside.

He made dinner for fourteen but only ate for one. The rest got put away for the multitudes of meals of the next day, but almost five years after he’d died he found himself looking at the empty table with a frown.

The next morning he perused his bookshelf until he found a collection of stories. From there, he found tales of the dwarves. He sat in his armchair until a collection of cousins knocked on the door and pulled him away, but he found what he was looking for when he was waiting for a peach pie to bake.

Dwarves belief that they return to the halls of Mahal upon their deaths. From there, they await the Final Battle. Upon the arrival of that day, they will be sent back to rebuild Arda, but until then the dwarves rest in their creator’s halls.

Bilbo hemmed over that. He wandered down to where most of the Tooks lived, asking if they had any maps or had heard of the Halls before. It was a bit of a long shot, and he wasn’t surprised when they all said no. He returned to his smial and examined his garden.

“Well-” he said to the same problematic patch of clover that refused to leave. “-I know that dwarves do like their underground tunnels and their mines. And if the Green Lady is married to the Smith, then it stands to reason that they might go underground nearby. I don’t think there’s any harm in looking, I’ll just get a bit dirty and ruin my garden, and I do that on the regular. Or I’ll fall into a great underground river and run back into Gollum.” Bilbo sighed, then went to see if he could borrow Hamfast’s good shovel.

There was a patch of yard in the back Bilbo had been planning on planting carrots in, but he had a better idea now. He wiggled his toes in the cool earth, nodded, and stretched out his shoulders. Then Bilbo Baggins put his shovel into the soil and started to dig.

It took quite a bit of time, but he didn’t get as tired as he had in his old age and he didn’t have to take as many breaks. Death might mean you didn’t have to eat, or sleep, but it was routine, and he had dinner with his parents that were tradition. One day, maybe, he’d be able to bring more than just himself and whatever his mother wanted him to bring for dessert, but he pushed the idea of muddy boots and braids out of his mind in favor of helping his mother finish up the roast.

“What are you doing, Bilbo?” his father asked during one dinner. “Gorbadoc says he hasn’t seen you at the Green Dragon in some time.”

“I’m digging a tunnel.” Bilbo said matter of factly. “I’m going to try to find the halls of Mahal.” His parents looked at each other for a minute.

“What for?”

“I… suppose it’s just because I can.”

“Have you considered asking the faunts?” Belladonna suggested as she took a second helping of mashed potatoes. “I’m sure they’d be more than thrilled to be asked to ruin a garden.” Bilbo considered that.

“I think this something I want to do myself.”

Bilbo digged and digged. The hole was big enough for him to stand in rather comfortably, though he had to dig some stair-like notches into the side so he could get in and out. It took almost a week of non-stop digging to reach literal rock bottom, and then he was left with a conundrum. He’d dented Hamfast’s good shovel, so he returned it with an apology and a promise to pay him back, but would Hamfast please lend him a good pickaxe?

Bilbo woke up that next morning with arms that were incredibly sore and demanded he take a day, if not more, off. He agreed. The dwarves had waited this long, they could wait a bit longer. Bilbo went to market, got a drink, avoided questions about what he was up to, dodged a few nosy grandparents, and returned home with arms full of goods. The next day he baked an apology pie for the Gamgees and sent his mother and father cookies, lounging for the rest of the afternoon with a good book. On the third day his arms didn’t yell at him for raising them above his head, so Bilbo hoisted his pickaxe.

“How’s your hole going?” Belladonna asked as she took out a tart to cool. It was nearly time for the harvest festivals. Hobbits loved to work in their fields and grow their goods, and that meant the harvest festivals of the Shire still went on. That meant competitions (his mother was entering a lovely pumpkin she’d been growing all year, while his father was entering in a poetry competition) and baking, canning for the winter, and family time.

“Rather well, I like to think!” Bilbo gave the bread he was kneading one last good push. “I think I’ve nearly reached it, the rocks started to change to the next type of rock underground that I read about in the book that Adamantius lent me last week. It’s supposed to mean you’ve gotten to the next layer or… something. The book was rather complicated. I suppose I’ll just have to see what happens.”

“Maybe you’ll have it fixed in time for the summer planting competitions.” His father brushed his hands off on an apron as he came in from the garden with a basket of potatoes, placing them on the counter and taking a moment to kiss Belladonna’s cheek. For a moment Bilbo wondered if soon he’d be seeing his dwarves, be able to kiss one particular cheek, but he pushed those thoughts aside. It was possible he was nowhere near being able to see his dwarves, but that was a thought he’d deal with when he came to it. He was nothing if not practical, as a Baggins (no, Baggins weren’t actually practical, he knew that now, but don’t bother telling the Baggins side that) and he didn’t want to consider that what if.

“Maybe.” he ceded. “But I’m hoping that I’ll be able to make it a permanent feature.”

Bilbo returned to his hole the day after the festivals had finally finished. His larder was filled to bursting, along with all his storage rooms, and he was just planning on doing a little bit of work before settling in with a nice book.

That plan fell a bit short, though. He drove his pickaxe in rather deeply and the earth suddenly crumbled all around him. Bilbo let out a yell as he fell through a suddenly rather large hole, landing with a rather sharp thwack on something… surprisingly soft.

When he looked around, he found that he was surrounded by an incredible amount of short, bearded people wearing multiple colors and gems.

Dwarves.

He looked up and found an incredible amount of sunlight falling on him, along with a decent amount of dirt.

It seemed he’d found the Halls of Mahal. Now the question was how to get back to Yavanna’s Gardens.

...he’d cross that road when he got to it. For now, he had dwarves to find, and, uh, oh dear. The dwarf he was sitting on didn’t look very happy. He jumped off of the poor dwarf’s back.

“I’m so terribly sorry-” Bilbo offered the dwarf a hand. They were covered in braids, with long black hair, and Bilbo tried to dust them off once they were up. “-I had no idea I’d almost broken through like that, I would’ve given some warning.”

“You’re what’s been making all that noise?” a dwarf behind him said. Bilbo turned on his heel. This dwarf was dressed like a miner.

“I beg your pardon?”

“The noise-” the dwarf gestured at the ceiling. “-for the past month, we’ve been getting this awful banging- that’s coming from you? But you’re a halfling!” There was a great deal of yelling at that as the crowd of dwarves surrounding Bilbo all realized what he was. Bilbo felt his cheeks heated up with rage.

“What do you mean a halfling fell through the ceiling?!” someone bellowed after several minutes where Bilbo couldn’t get his voice loud enough. There was a great deal of pushing through the crowd and Bilbo offered another apology to the poor dwarf he’d probably concussed in his fall.

“I’ll have you know I’m not half of anything!” He said loudly into the suddenly silent hall, but there was a further commotion.

“That’s not just a halfling that our halfling!” Bofur, that was Bofur, he knew that voice. A bald dwarf covered in tattoos practically rammed his way through the crowd and there were all his dwarves, looking alive and well and whole, no blood or funeral garb, no sorrowful letters or tearful tales from Frodo about bodies and ancient stone walls. He was hugging them, pinching cheeks and smiling as wide as he had in some time. He did a quick head count - twelve. Where was thirteen, where was-

Oh.

There he was.

Thorin was standing at the other end of the mass of dwarves in the hall, firelight glinting off the silver in his hair and around his neck. There was no sign of gold or bronze, just silver. He practically blended into the cave wall in his nearly black clothes but Bilbo met those beautiful blue eyes and something just clicked. He was covered in dirt, and in his gardening clothes. He looked a mess, he was sure of it, but Thorin was looking at him in a way that made his breath catch in his throat.

“Master Burglar.” Thorin’s voice rumbled across the nearly silent crowd.

A moment later he and Bilbo met in the center of the path, both having run as fast as their feet could carry them. Bilbo’s fingers curled into the thick, wiry hair and he inhaled the smell that was undeniably Thorin.

“I thought I told you to call me Bilbo.” he said in a thick voice after a moment. “Or should I be calling you your majesty?”

“No.” Thorin said instantly. He shook his head and Bilbo felt the gentle thuds as beads connected with his skull. “No. Never you.”

They looked at each other for a moment. Thorin didn’t have the wrinkles around his face anymore, the silver in his hair was less than it had been, but there was still that shadowed look in his eyes. Bilbo took a quick breath, then leaned up and kissed his cheek like his father kissed his mother’s, like he’d been thinking about for ages and ages.

“Hello.” he whispered. “Hello, Thorin Oakenshield.”

“Hello, Bilbo Baggins of the Shire.” Thorin’s face was flushed now, but he reached up and brushed his thumb along Bilbo’s jaw.

“That counts as a kiss!” someone bellowed. There was a loud thud and the dwarf, definitely Nori, yelped. “That hurt!”

“Bilbo can we get a boat through your hole?” Fili called. A moment later there was a thud and both Fili and Kili were there, smushing Bilbo into the center of a Durin family hug.

“A bo- what do you need a boat for?”

“I want to find Tauriel.” Kili sounded elated. “If you could get through, then she-”

“Boys, I have to get back up myself, I can’t just pull up a boat-”

“What about cheese?” Bofur piped up. Bilbo realized that the entire company had encircled him. He was surrounded in a mass of dwarves. Stinky, hugging-too-tight, wonderful dwarves that he’d missed. “Bombur’s been talking about that recipe you sent him-”

“He sent me dozens of recipes, you’ll have to be more specific-” Bombur started.

“I told you he could break in, I don’t know why you’re still not giving me money!” that was Nori again, directed at Balin.

“These are the Halls-” Balin began.

“Bullshit, this is Bilbo, he stole from a dragon! This is all in a day’s work for him!”

“Have you seen my Gimli up there?” That was Gloin. “You know, my beautiful laddy, with the curly red hair and the most beautiful eyes, I haven’t been able to find him and we haven’t heard anything about him in a long time for a while, I’m starting to get worried-”

“He just got here, Gloin, don’t start yelling about your kid again-” that was a voice he didn’t totally recognize but he saw Bifur without an axe and grinning widely as he spoke.

Bilbo looked back up at Thorin, who was smiling at him in a way that made him come into focus and drown everything else out.

“I’m glad to see you, Bilbo.”

“I’m glad to see you too.” Bilbo smiled back at him. His dwarf reached up as if to touch his face again, but faltered.

“We’ve… we’ve got a lot to talk about.”

“We do.” Bilbo agreed. “Bu-”

“Bilbo?” Someone shouted down the hole. He recognized his mother after a moment. He struggled out of the throng of dwarves much like a whale breaching for air. There was a shadow over the patch of sunlight from above, bits of dirt trickling in.

“I’m fine!” he yelled back. “Be careful, it’s a pretty hard landing at the bottom, I don’t want you to slip!”

“Wait that’s the burglar?” someone in the crowd said. There was a loud shushing noise, a thwap, and an ow.

“Are you hurt?”

“No, Mum, I’m alright!”

“Wait is that your mother?!” Kili and Fili said together.

“Did you find your dwarves?”

“I’m going to regret this-” Bilbo sighed, then he pitched his voice back up high. “I fell but I’m alright, I just didn’t realize how far down I was!” He paused for a moment, then shouted back. “Do we still have the apple picking ladders?”

“I’m sure we can dig one up-” there was his father. Poor Bungo was probably tearing his hair out. “-are you hurt?”

“No, he’s not, he said he’s alright-” his mother’s voice was muffled. “-we’ll go check, darling, stay out of trouble!”

“Can you throw down some cheese?” Bofur shouted.

“Bofur!”

“Oh some apples would be lovely.” Dori sighed.

“And some apples!” Bofur yelled a bit louder.

“Just send down his whole larder!” Kili yelled. “And a boat! I need the hole to be big enough for a boat!”

In a hole in the ground, there lived a hobbit. This hole was comfortable, and warm, and cozy. It was also full of Bilbo Baggins’ things. This hobbit had lived a remarkable life and thus his home was quite remarkable in many ways, but the most intriguing bit about this hole was the larger hole in the backyard. It was surrounded by stones, with a lovely set of carved steps going up to the house. It led to a sturdy but worn wooden ladder that had been used for apple picking but now served to connect the Halls of Mahal to Gardens of Yavanna. This ladder fell in the center of a massive stone hall, which was filled with flowers that hobbits would come down to tend to. The two races regularly wandered through Bilbo Baggins’ garden to meet - dwarves would come up for market day bearing gifts and coins, eyeing steaming bread and crisp red apples, while some of the more adventurous hobbits would slide down the ladder to inquire about repairs for their tools.

For Bilbo, though, this hole meant so much more. It meant thirteen dwarves crashing into his house ridiculously early in the morning to nag him into making them breakfast. It meant having his family, blood and not, over for dinner. It meant listening to his mother talk with Dori and Balin about tea, to his father engage Fili and Ori into long tales of age-old tales. It eventually meant Kili tugging a tall, red-haired elf into Bag End no. 2, covered in water while a tired Fili collapsing into a chair complaining that Kili and Tauriel hadn’t stopped making doe-eyes at each other.

It meant that, after a long conversation with tears and laughter and shy touches, Bilbo made dinner with a dwarf that made him laugh as he stole pie filling and got flour on his nose and in his beard. It meant that Bilbo would come back to market to find someone frowning on his porch with little metal bits twisted in his lap as he worked on making ornaments for Bilbo’s garden. It meant that Bilbo Baggins woke up next to Thorin Oakenshield, one hand tangled in that beautiful dark hair. It meant that they sat on the bench under the oak tree and blew smoke rings into the setting sun, holding hands.

When Frodo Baggins finally entered Yavanna’s Gardens, he found his uncle beaming like he hadn’t in years, with a braid in his curls and a ring on his finger. There were thirteen dwarves in the living room, and Frodo was just in time for tea.

---

Thanks for reading!

This is based off of a post made by @wheeloffortune-design about Bilbo digging his way into Halls of Mahal, which has literally been living in my brain since I read it. (and @gallusrostromegalus put down some delightfully funny comments that also made my day) So… here we are. You can find the post here, assuming the link works!

The AO3 link is here!

man i love bagginshield.

#writing #writers #writers on tumblr #fanfiction #the hobbit #bagginshield #thorin x bilbo #bilbo x thorin #bilbo baggins #thorin oakenshield #my otp honestly #i started shipping this and never stopped

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leossmoonn · 3 years

Text

Baby’s First White Christmas [Spencer Reid]

masterlist

pairing - spencer reid x fem!reader

type - fluff

note - because its the holidays, i have decided to get back to writing our favorite pretty boy, spencer reid. enjoy!

summary - you and spencer’s baby of 9 months get to experience their first christmas at a party with your friends

warnings - mild language

————

*gif isn't mine* (also like pretty unrelated to the story but hes cute so)

“Are we ready, baby and baby?” Spencer asked, looking at you and your child.

“Yep!” You smiled excitedly. You looked to the baby in your arms and bounced. “This is your first Christmas, baby!”

The little baby boy gurgled, giving you a big smile. You couldn't help but giggle at the little joy of life in your arms.

A knock on the door sounded, which forced you to tear your eyes away from the baby. You went to open the door, but Spencer cut you off.

“Let me do it, honey,” Spencer said. You smiled at him. Even though it was 9 months since you’ve given birth, Spencer still didn’t let you do the littlest of things. It was the sweetest thing, but sometimes it got a little excessive. You knew he meant well, though.

As he opened the door, Penelope Garcia and Derek Morgan came into view.

“Hi!” Penelope was the first out to talk. She smiled big and went inside immediately, hugging Spencer, then turning her attention to you.

“Is that? Oh?” Penelope stared at the baby, awe-struck.

“Yep! This is baby Jason,” you smiled. Jason reached out for Penelope and started to babble.

“Hi,” Jason spoke.

Penelope and Derek awed.

“He is adorable,” Derek smiled. “Thank you. Spencer takes all the credit for the amazing genes,” you smiled at your husband.

Spencer rolled his eyes with a smile. “Technically it’s, uh, half of us, but it's all you, babe.”

“So, he can talk?” Penelope asked. “Not like, full sentences. He knows “momma”, “daddy”, “hi”, “no”, and “bye”,” you explained.

“Wow, a true genius like his dad,” Derek clapped Spencer on the back.

“Thanks, Derek,” Spencer said sheepishly.

“Oh, he can crawl a little, too!” You exclaimed.

“Oh! Can we see?” Penelope asked. She was putting her fingers in front of the baby, babbling with him.

“Let’s wait until everyone gets here, yeah?” You suggested. “Sure, no problem,” Derek smiled.

Penelope looked at you and your husband. “Oh, you two look amazing! You still have that after-birth glow.”

You blushed, “Thank you, Pen. You two look fabulous, as well!”

Penelope giggled, “We have gifts!”

Spencer sighed, “You guys shouldn’t have. We got you guys gifts, too, anyways.”

Penelope snickered. She got out her purse and handed you a small red box, and Spencer a medium-sized gift bag. Derek had his gifts behind his back. He had a big Christmas bag that shared both your gifts.

“Oh, thank you so much!” You smiled, side-hugging the two guests.

“It's not issue,” Derek smiled. “Here, I’ll put them by the tree. You guys come in, make yourselves at home!” Spencer said while taking the gifts from your hands.

You backed away, making room for Derek and Penelope to take off their shoes and coats. As they hung their coats up, more people started to arrive. You saw Hotch with Jack, Alex Blake, and JJ with Will and Henry.

“Hi, guys!” You exclaimed.

“Hey!” JJ and Alex smiled. You all did a group hug. “Come in, come in! Get comfy,” you said.

“Hi, boys,” you smiled at Hotch and Will.

“Hey, Y/n,” Hotch smiled. You gave him a side-hug, and did the same with Will.

“How have you been?” You asked.

“Good. Busy,” Hotch smiled. “We’ve been good. Henry has kept us busy,” Will smiled, patting his kid’s shoulder.

“Oh, same for Jason. Hi, Henry, Jack!” You smiled and the little kids.

“Hi, Aunt Y/n!” They smiled up at you. “We have some cookies and hot cocoa if you want them,” you said.

“Dad, can I go?” Henry looked up at Will. “Yeah, go ahead. Don’t make a mess!”

Henry giggled and ran over to the kitchen. Jack looked up to Hotch, to which he replied with a smile and a nod. Jack followed Henry into the kitchen.

“Is this Jason?” Hotch asked, looking at the babbling baby in your arms.

“Yep! Say “hi”, Jace!” You said.

Jason looked at Will and Hotch with wide eyes. He smiled at them, which earned a chuckle from the men.

“Adorable,” Will smiled. “Oh, we know,” you chuckled.

Alex and JJ came back over.

“Sorry! We were putting our presents by the tree,” JJ smiled. “Guys! Don’t spend money on us! Unless it's for Jason, of course,” you smiled.

“Pretty sure most of them are for Jason,” Alex shrugged and smiled.

You chuckled. “Ah, I'm so glad all of you us are here.”

“Um, no! I’m here!”

You all looked to the door and gasped. There, was Emily Prentiss.

“Emily!” You exclaimed.

You went over to her, giving her a big, tight side-hug.

“Hey, Y/n!” Emily smiled and hugged you back.

Emily pulled back and hugged everyone else, a big smile on her face.

“H-How? What?” You asked, beyond confused and surprised.

“Spencer called,” Emily said, smiling to your husband who was walking over.

“Yep. I knew you missed her. We all have,” Spencer smiled and planted a kiss on your cheek.

You never worked with Spencer, but you had always been close with his co-works. When Elle left, Emily quickly came. You were heartbroken that Elle left. You two had had an amazing friendship, but she had to leave for personal reason. Then, Emily came and you two quickly formed a bond. Emily had a leave a year or two ago, leaving you sad and missing your best friend. Thanks to your amazing husband, she was able to stay for the weekend for Christmas.

“You are a God sent,” you smiled and leaned over to kiss your husband’s lips. Spencer kissed you back sweetly before pulling away.

“I missed you, but I definitely haven’t missed the PDA,” Emily snorted. “I second that,” Alex smirked.

You rolled your eyes. “Ha-ha. Oh! Meet baby Jason!”

You presented your baby to them.

“Hi,” Jason spoke, smiling at everyone.

“Oh! He’s darling!” Alex exclaimed.

“Reminds me of Henry,” JJ pouted.

“So adorable. You guys did it!” Emily smiled.

You thanked everyone. “Yep, we did! Where’s Pen and Derek?”

“Over here!” You turned around, seeing that Penelope made holiday drinks.

“We have alcoholic eggnog for the adults and apple cider and virgin eggnog for the other adults and children!” Penelope exclaimed.

“Thank you, Pen,” you chuckled and went over. You took a glass of virgin eggnog for you and Spencer.

“Aw, you guys aren’t gonna drink?” Penelope said.

“I have a baby!” You said, bouncing Jason up and down.

“Hm, your loss,” Penelope chuckled.

“Do you guys want to see Jason crawl?” “Yes!” Everyone answered.

“Thank God, my arm is getting tired,” you chuckled.

You and Spencer went to the living room, everyone following. You set Jason down on the blankets you always had laid out for him. You got on your knees, ready to get Jason if anything were to happen.

Jason looked around and spotted his toy elephant, to which he started to crawl to. Everyone awed loudly.

“He’s 9 months, right?” Emily asked.

“Yep,” you smiled proudly.

“Wow, and he can already crawl?” Alex asked.

“Well, by this time they are usually excepted to crawl. Enjoy this time, Y/n. Soon they’ll be running around and you’ll be trying to catch them,” JJ said.

“Oh, don’t remind me about him getting older!” You exclaimed, crawling over to Jason who had his elephant in his mouth.

“Wanna go in your playpen, bubs?” You asked the baby. Spencer came over and scooped him up, planting a kiss on the baby's head. You watched with a love-filled look as Spencer played airplane with the baby, setting Jason in his playpen. Spencer put pillows on the corners of the pen, giving Jason few toys to plan with.

“Alright, you should be set for a while, buddy,” Spencer said, patting his son’s head.

“Well, anyone ready for dinner?” You asked.

“Yes!”

You smiled and went over to the kitchen, pulling out the casseroles, turkey, and rolls that were being kept in the oven to stay warm. Spencer and Penelope helped you set everything out. Soon, you all were sitting on the couch or dining table, eating and conversing.

“Your house looks amazing, guys,” JJ said, taking a sip of her alcoholic eggnog.

“Yes! You guys are couple goals!” Penelope sang out.

You chuckled, leaning against Spencer. “Thank you, it means a lot. It’s taken a while to get here.”

You smiled at Spencer, who gave you a kiss on the cheek. “Yep.”

“Gah! Okay, I need to take a group picture!” Penelope exclaimed. “Guys, get over here!”

Hotch, Derek, and Will came over with their kids. Spencer went over and got Jason out of his crib. He left to go change his diaper, quickly returning back. You had located the tripod, Penelope putting her camera in it.

“Ready!” Penelope exclaimed. You went in-between Spencer and Emily, putting your arm around both of them. You all smiled as the camera flashed a couple times.

“Great! I will send these all to you,” Penelope said, taking her camera and putting it in her purse.

“Yay!” You giggled. You looked to the window, your eyes widening. Even though it was dark outside, you could see the snow that was falling from the sky.

“Spence! Spence! It’s snowing! Jace, do you see that! It’s snowing!” You cooed at your baby.

“Woah!” Spencer exclaimed and walked over to the window.

“Can we go out so Jason can see the snow?” You asked. “Sure,” Spencer nodded. You all got your coats on, dressing Jason up in layers. You all went outside of your house, stepping in the already snow-filled ground.

“This is snow, baby! This is your first white Christmas!” You smiled at Jason, ticking his chin with your finger.

“Let me get a picture of the happy family!” Penelope said.

You stood next to Spencer, holding Jason close and smiling. Penelope took the picture, walking away to review her work.

You and Spencer looked up at the star-filled sky. You looked at Spencer and Jason, smiling contently.

“We did it, baby,” you said to Spencer.

Spencer looked to you and smiled, giving you a sweet kiss on the lips. “Yeah, we did.”

————

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@itsmyblogandillreblogifiwantto @andreasworlsboring101 @be-patient-be-good

#spencer reid x reader #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid imagines #spencer reid #mgg #matthew gray gubler #christmas #spencer reid christmas #spencer reid fluff #spencer reid x reader fluff #cm #criminal minds #jj #emily prentiss #penelope garcia #matthew gray gubler x reader #aaron hotchner #derek morgan #alex blake

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official-weasley · 3 years

Text

Tiger - (The Irreplaceable Charlie Weasley AU)

Warnings: is getting a pet a warning? 🤔🙈

Word count: 5,205

Characters: Charlie Weasley and my OC Nova from TICW which you can find here

Nova

“Mum, when is dad coming home?”

Aoede and I were sitting on our sofa, watching cartoons and eating cookies. An episode of Tom and Jerry just ended and Aoede noticed that Charlie wasn't home yet.

“In a few minutes, sweetheart.” I ran my fingers through her soft hair, getting another cookie from the bowl.

“Is he late?” Aoede posed another question.

“No. It's five minutes until 3 o'clock so he hasn't finished working yet.”

“I wish he didn't have to wolk that long.” Aoede sighed.

“Oh, sweetheart, me too. But he works every day until 5 or 6 so he is already coming early today because it's Friday.” I wiggled the bowl to switch Aoede's attention to cookies.

“Fliday and Sunday ale my favolite. You know why, mum?” Aoede turned to me before trying to stuff an entire cookie in her mouth.

“Why?” I giggled, watching the chocolate get smeared all over her face.

“On Fliday, daddy comes home earliel and we have a cuddle day and on Sunday we have pancakes fol blefcast.” Aoede clapped excitedly.

“Breakfast, Aoede.” I corrected her.

“Bleak...fast.” Aoede furrowed her brows trying to remember the word.

“There you go! Nice job!” I pulled her in a half hug.

She was sitting next to me because my belly was too big for her to sit in my lap.

“You know what,” I said after I took a bite of yet another cookie, “Fridays and Sundays are my favorite too.”

“Leally? Because of daddy being home and pancakes?” Aoede's eyes were sparkling.

“Because we all cuddle on the sofa and pancakes.” I sniggered.

“What about dad?” Aoede asked curiously.

“Meh.” I swung my hand, trying to sound uninterested.

“Mum,” Aoede gasped, “stop it! You love dad!”

“I do,” I giggled, “nothing gets past you, does it?”

“You tlied to tlick me!” Aoede fully turned to me and took my cookie. “No cookie fol you!”

“Hey, give that back, I'm eating for two!” I made puppy eyes at her.

“Those only wolk on dad, mum.” Aoede giggled and put my cookie in her mouth.

“You are too smart for a 3-year-old.” I playfully shook my head.

“I am just good at taking youl cookies,” Aoede said with her mouth full.

“Want to watch another episode or should we wait for dad?” I reached for the remote.

“Wait fol dad. I will talk to the baby now.” Aoede cleared her throat after finishing the cookie.

I still didn't like the fact that Charlie raised his voice at her the night Bill and Fleur came by. I wasn't used to it as my parents rarely had to do it with me and I have learned from them that most of the time just talking peacefully works wonders.

Before Aoede was even born, Charlie expressed his concern about how his mother always shouted at him and his siblings and that he doesn't want to be like her and made me swear that I would scold him if I ever notice he is turning into his mother.

He might not have shouted at Aoede like Molly used to shout at her boys, but it was evident that he has lost his temper with her and I wasn't okay with that. Especially, when Fleur told me that she was the same when her sister was born and later Bill trying to calm me down telling me that he and Charlie were the same when their younger siblings were born.

Charlie and Aoede worked it out the second Charlie and Bill came back inside and he apologized to me 3 times that night before we went to sleep.

Even though I forgave him the second he sat down and talked to our daughter I couldn't help but notice that by raising his voice Aoede started to warm up to the fact that she is getting a sibling.

The first thing she did, she asked me when the baby is coming. Then she asked Charlie if she can join him when he was singing to my belly. To say that we were both shocked by her sudden change of heart was an understatement but at the same time, we were over the roof about the fact that we could talk about the pregnancy in front of her without her glaring at us.

She usually played with her Unicorn plushie or did puzzles – which her grandpa Artie sent her the second we told him she finished the dinosaur one – when Charlie was either talking or singing to the baby. It was progress that she didn't mind, but last week she got curious and actually listened to what he was doing.

Two days ago, when Charlie was still at work, she stopped playing all of a sudden and walked to me, avoiding my eyes. I had never seen her so shy around me so I asked her what was going on. After a lot of mumbling to herself and fiddling with her fingers, she admitted that she would like to try and talk to the baby.

I did my best, hiding the fact that her action shocked me and made her sit next to me on the sofa so she could sit on my legs and talk to the baby. She only introduced herself before getting too shy and jumping off me to go back to her toys but it meant the world to me.

Charlie, of course, couldn't believe it when I told him and was hoping he would get to see it and since she wanted to do it again today, there wasn't a doubt in my mind that he will be able to witness this miracle sooner or later.

“Okay, whenever you are ready.” I smiled softly at her, gently stroking her hair.

“Hello.” She tapped on my belly so lightly that it tickled me. “Uhm, mum I don't know what to say.”

“Well, your dad usually tells the baby stories.” I encouraged her.

“Oh, I know plenty of those!” Aoede's eyes sparkled as they did every time she got an idea.

“Hi, baby!” She waved at my belly. “I love cookies. My uncle Geogie makes the best ones and I love when he comes and we make them togethel. I love the ones with chocolate the most! You will love uncle Geogie, he is so funny! But uncle Bill is my favolite. He has longel hail than dad and he lets me play with it. He isn't as funny as uncle Geogie but his stolies ale fun! He loves auntie Fleul. She is vely pletty and...”

Before Aoede could continue the front door unlocked and Charlie stepped inside.

“I'm home!” He sang.

“Daddy, shhh! I'm talking to the baby!” Aoede whispered with a finger in front of her mouth.

“You are what?” Charlie raised his eyebrows and locked eyes with mine.

“She's talking to the baby,” I whispered, trying not to giggle too much to disturb her.

Charlie was quick to put his jacket away so he could join us as he couldn't wait to be a part of this. He kissed Aoede's forehead and got a little groan in return for disturbing her. Then he gently pushed me upward so he could sit down and I positioned myself in his arms. He kissed the top of my head, listening to Aoede tell the baby all about her uncles and aunts and why she loves each of them.

“The last one is uncle Pelcy. I only saw him once. Daddy doesn't like him much I think...” Aoede gave her words some thought.

I looked up at Charlie who swallowed thickly, his eyes on our 3-year-old.

Percy came home for the first time about 2 months after the war. The reactions to his action varied. Arthur and Molly were just happy he was back. Ron, George, and Ginny didn't want to hear him out at all. Charlie and Bill were hesitant and asked him to give them some time to think everything through.

Because Charlie wanted Aoede to have all her uncles in her life, he invited Percy to stay with us at the end of last year. It was very awkward but I saw that Charlie tried to understand where Percy was coming from and even though their relationship is still a bit shaky, they exchange a few letters per month.

“I...ah, mum! Ah, what did I do?!” Aoede suddenly jumped in the air, her eyes widened in horror, looking at my belly.

“What happened?” Charlie got alarmed.

“Nothing,” I giggled, “the baby just kicked and Aoede felt it.”

“Oh.” Charlie sighed in relief, tightening his arms around me.

“The baby kicked?” Aoede tilted her head and slowly climbed back on my legs.

“Yes. That's what you felt.” I chuckled, finding her reaction amusing.

“I didn't hult you?” She was still in shock.

“No, sweetheart. You did the same when you were in my belly.” I gently grabbed her shoulder and pulled her toward me to give her a hug and calm her down.

“O-okay.” Aoede took a deep breath and buried her head in my shoulder.

“So, if I am not mistaken, it's cuddle day.” Charlie grinned at us, trying to make Aoede forget about the kick.

“Yes!” Aoede exclaimed and carefully climbed off me and jumped to the floor.

“Where are you going?” Charlie asked her as she started walking to the drawer where I had my art supplies.

“I want to look at mum's dlawings.” She explained as she pulled out one of my sketchbooks and walked back to us.

“I thought you'd want to watch cartoons.” Charlie teased her.

“No. Mum and I watched Tom and Jelly befole. I want to do this now.” She lifted her hands in the air for Charlie to help her back on the sofa.

“Do you want to watch a cartoon?” Charlie whispered in my ear.

“Sure.” I smiled at him and gave him the remote.

“Mum, look!” Aoede turned the sketchbook to me. “It's Blue but little!”

The sketchbook was opened on a drawing of a kneazle which I drew the year I came to Romania. Blue was Felix's kneazle and is now living with Andrei. Aoede loves to go there not only to play with the animal but also to spend time with Andrei who she calls her best friend.

The first time Andrei heard her say that he shed a tear and didn't understand what he did to deserve that title but gladly took it. Andrei is the one who first showed Aoede a picture of a unicorn and told her all sorts of stories about his interaction with the creature. Andrei is even better at telling stories than Charlie is so it's no surprise that unicorns are her favorite creatures.

“Yes, that's Blue when he was still a cub.” I thumbed through the book to find the other drawing of him. “See, that's him too.”

“Oh, so pletty. I love Blue, mum.” Aoede was admiring my drawing, her eyes sparkling.

“I know you do, sweetheart.” I watched her trace her little finger over the lines of Blue's ears.

“Mum, can we get a kneazle?” Aoede said more to herself than to me.

“You think you are old enough to take care of a kneazle?” I raised my eyebrows at her.

“Yes! My best fliend showed me how to feed Blue and how to make Blue's ful look pletty and shiny!” Aoede closed the sketchbook, her eyes locking with mine.

“Hmm,” I tapped my chin with my finger, giving the idea some thought. “I love your idea.”

I grinned at her, making her eyes even bigger and if it would be possible sparks would fly out of them.

“But we have to ask dad first.” I pressed my lips together knowing this is going to be very amusing to watch.

“Dad, dad! Mum and I want a kneazle!” Aoede was shaking from excitement.

“What now?” Charlie mumbled, his eyes still on the telly.

“A kneazle, dad! Oh, can we? Please!”

“What about a kneazle, Pumpkin?” Charlie asked absentmindedly.

“We want one!” Aoede started to look annoyed because Charlie still didn't look at her.

“Wait what?” Charlie turned down the volume and looked at his daughter.

“We want a kneazle, dad! We want a kneazle!” Aoede bounced on my legs.

“We?” Charlie cocked an eyebrow, his gaze switching from Aoede to me.

“I said she has to ask you first.” I winked at him.

“Why me? Why do I have to decide?” Charlie narrowed his eyes at me.

“You're the man of the house, aren't you?” I sniggered.

“Right.” Charlie nodded his head, still a bit confused about how we are suddenly discussing having a pet. “Well, what did you say?” He whispered to me.

“I said that I love her idea,” I replied.

“You did?” Charlie tilted his head. “You think she's ready to have a pet?”

“I am!” Aoede crossed her arms on her chest.

“Love, we are 14 days from your due date, we'll be busy with the baby. How are you planning to take care of a kneazle too?”

“You are making some good points, Charles.” I nodded. “However, I think Aoede has enough experience because of Blue to take care of one.”

“She's 3!” Charlie exclaimed.

“So that's a no?” I pouted. “I think that's a no, Aoede.”

“Why!” Aoede whined.

“Wait, how do you think this is a good idea?” Charlie ignored our daughter.

“Well, you know I wanted to get a pet ever since we moved to Romania but then we didn't have the time and now we have a house and you know we will always find an excuse and honestly since we both love animals so much, it's a miracle we don't have a zoo already.”

“Okay, true, but you know that Aoede is too young to take care of it alone and I will be at work so you will have to feed it and everything.” Charlie sighed.

“I am aware of that, Char. But it would also be a good opportunity to teach Aoede to be responsible and I can handle a toddler, a baby, and a kneazle.”

“Daddy, please!” Aoede looked at Charlie with the biggest puppy eyes I have ever seen. “I will help mummy, I plomise. I will feed it evely molning and evely night and I will tlain him to poop and I will give him lots of cuddles!”

“Yeah, there's no doubt about the last one.” Charlie tried not to look at Aoede because he knew he won't be able to resist her looking at him like that.

“Admit it, you want it too.” I nudged him, whispering.

“Of course, I want it.” Charlie ran his hand across his face, still not fully convinced.

“So we ale getting a kneazle?” Aoede gasped.

“Oh, I don't know.” Charlie gave it some thought.

“Please!” Aoede and I said in unison, making puppy eyes at Charlie.

“I swear if our second born has your eyes, you three will be the death of me.” Charlie sighed in defeat.

“I think that's a yes, Aoede.” I giggled and high-fived her.

“Yes!” Aoede thrust her hands in the air, carefully climbed off me, and started dancing around the living room.

“I can't believe I was the one who needed convincing for us to have a pet,” Charlie whispered after a few moments of us giggling and watching out daughter celebrate.

“I know it's kind of an impulsive and an irresponsible decision but I know we can do it and I believe Aoede will take care of it. She loves to help Andrei with Blue and honestly, he has taught her a lot about kneazles.” I defended my decision.

“That's true, she is pretty responsible for her age and I guess it would be a good distraction for her from the baby in case she ought to change her mind.” Charlie scratched the stubble below his chin.

“I mean we kind of owe her for having another baby.” I chuckled.

“Oh, great. So what are we getting her when we're having our third child?” Charlie raised his eyebrows at me, looking amused.

“Let this one be born first, will you?” I laughed.

“I can't wait.” He kissed me first on the nose, then on the lips.

“So, are you really okay with it?” I asked.

“Yeah, why not.” Charlie shrugged. “You tamed a chimera which is supposed to be untamable, how hard can having a kneazle be?”

“I guess we'll find out soon.” I nodded my head at Aoede who was still running around the room shouting that we are getting a kneazle.

Charlie

The morning after we decided to get a kneazle, we visited Andrei to see if he knows anyone who breeds them. Even though my girls convinced me to get one, I still wasn't sure it was a good idea. It wasn't that I didn't want one – in that regard, I thought it was a good idea too – but I was worried for Nova and how she'll be able to handle everything while I'm at work.

The second pregnancy has been draining her and I have no idea how she will be after she gives birth and Aoede is getting more energetic each day and even though I will help her as much as I possibly can, I will have to go to work too and I don't want Nova to be exhausted for the next year because we decided to get a pet.

When we woke up in the morning I told Nova that I will ask Andrei if he thinks it's a good idea and if he reckons we can take care of one with having a baby on the way.

We walked to the Sanctuary – well Aoede ran most of the way because she was too excited – and knocked on Andrei's door when we reached his cottage.

“Aoede! What a pleasant surprise!” Andrei grinned when he saw our little one.

He picked her up and twirled her in the air.

“Andy, Andy, we are getting a kneazle!” Aoede told him the news the second he put her down.

“You are?” He bestowed her with a grin before turning to us. “That's sudden.”

“Yes, very,” I spoke first.

“Charlie thinks it's a bad idea with the baby on the way.” Nova followed.

“I think your timing couldn't be more perfect,” Andrei said casually.

“Really?” Nova and I said together.

“Kneazles are the best pets to the people they can trust and they tend to trust children more. Aoede is great with Blue, he simply adores her meaning she is trustworthy. If a kneazle trusts the whole family then they are better behaved than most cats. All you'll have to do is feed it, comb its fur around 3 times per week and play with it, which I think won't be a problem.” Andrei nodded his head to where Aoede was sitting on the floor, playing with Blue.

“So they aren't too high maintenance?” Charlie wanted to know.

“Not at all. They are a much better first-time pet than crups. They learn faster because they are highly intelligent and they don't have as much energy as crups so they mostly like to cuddle with you.” Andrei continued with a smile on his face.

He then asked us how we came to the idea and Nova explained how Aoede saw Blue in my sketchbook and made him laugh when she told him how they convinced me to get one.

“Why were you against it, Charles? You and Nova have been discussing getting a pet since you moved here.” Andrei teased him.

“That's what I said!” Nova chuckled.

“Well, I was just hesitant with the new baby and I won't be home all the time to help around the house and...” I sighed. “I guess I just got worried.”

“Understandable,” Andrei nodded, “you know you'll get some time off when the baby arrives and in case your kneazle will be too much to handle you can always bring it here.”

“Thank you, Andrei.” His words calmed me down.

“Do you know anyone who breeds them or where we could get one?” I wanted to know.

“Mary would be your best call. She lives in the same village you do and Felix got Blue from her.” Andrei answered my question.

“Wait, you mean Mary Hucklewood? The one that has the drug store?” Nova got excited.

“The very same!” Andrei smiled.

“Oh, that's going to be easy, Char! She's a really sweet lady. I had no idea she's a kneazle breeder.”

“Yeah! Her kneazles won some amazing awards on shows and such. I am sure she'll be able to tell you more!” Andrei looked towards where Aoede was still playing with Blue.

“Did you hear, Pumpkin? We know where to get a kneazle.” I kneeled next to her and rubbed Blue's belly.

“Leally? Can we go now?” Aoede gasped.

“We can't just leave Andrei after being here for 10 minutes.” Nova giggled.

“I would love to come with you if you'll have me. I have to buy some groceries anyway and I haven't seen Mary for a long time.” Andrei said, winking at Aoede.

“See! We can go now! We can go now!” Aoede was jumping up and down.

Without saying another word, we walked to the door and headed back to the village.

“How are you feeling?” I asked Nova as we were walking hand in hand, Andrei, and Aoede right in front of us.

“The walk is doing me good. My feet hurt but I had to move from that sofa eventually.” She said softly. “Not 14 days before your due date.” I tried hiding the concern in my voice. “And I'll massage your feet the second we get home.”

“Thank you, Char.” Nova smiled appreciatively at me before turning to see what made Aoede squeak.

“Mummy, daddy, we're here!” She pointed at the house on our left, hardly containing her excitement.

“Now, Aoede, even if Mary has a kneazle for us to adopt, it doesn't mean we will get it today, okay?” I kneeled next to her.

“I know, dad.” Aoede sighed disappointedly but I knew she understood the situation.

“Go ahead, then. Knock on the door.” Nova nudged her so she got closer.

Aoede took a deep breath and knocked on the door so gently that I was sure the lady inside the house won't be able to hear her.

It was amusing to see Aoede nervous but in a way admiring to watch her in this state because she showed me that despite being so young, this means a lot to her.

“I think we should let Aoede do all the talking so that we see if she is really ready for this,” I whispered to my wife.

“Okay, she seems a bit nervous.” Nova giggled.

“Yeah, she's adorable.” I followed her lead, waiting for someone to get the door.

“Maybe you should knock again, Pumpkin.” I encouraged our daughter when she started to turn around to look at us.

She did as she was told, her knock more determined this time.

“I'm coming, I'm coming! Pretzel, dear, move to the side so I can open the door.” We heard the voice in the house say.

The door creaked opened and a lady in her fifties was standing in the doorway.

“Andrei, Nova! What a pleasant surprise!” The woman grinned at them.

To me, the woman seemed familiar but Nova usually paid more attention to people than I did because she reckoned that we should know the people who live around us in case there would be any spies – that was back when we were at war.

“Hi, Mary! Long time no see!” Andrei waved at the woman.

“And you must be Nova's husband Charlie and I bet this little cutie is Aoede.” She locked eyes with me and smiled before bending down to shake Aoede's hand.

“That is me!” Aoede beamed. “Maly, this is my best fliend Andy and my mummy and daddy and we ale hele because you gave Blue to Andy and mummy and I want a kneazle. See, daddy isn't sule but he said that we can have one if we will take cale of it and I plomise, I plomise Maly that I will take the best cale of my kneazle. Blue leally likes me!”

Nova and I chuckled at Aoede's enthusiasm, Mary however looked surprised.

“You sure know how to make a good first impression, Aoede,” Mary said after waiting for a moment longer if Aoede is done talking.

“And all that she said is true, she is amazing with Blue and he adores her.” Andrei supported Aoede's statement.

“Oh, I have no doubt about that.” Mary nodded toward Aoede who was petting one of Mary's kneazles. “Pretzel doesn't trust a lot of people and he has certainly never let anyone touch him the first time he meets them, so your daughter is really good with animals.”

I blinked a few times before exchanging a look with Nova – getting all teary-eyed and proud of my daughter. From the looks of it, Nova wasn't doing any better, as she sniffed and couldn't stop smiling.

“Unfortunately, you would have to wait until the next year. I have given away the good kneazles from my last litter a few weeks ago so I am afraid you are too late.” Mary bowed her head, sadly. “Kneazles breed only once per year, if they do, so it's hard to say.”

“Oh,” Aoede tried her hardest not to sound disappointed even though I could see her eyes filling with tears.

“What did you mean with the good kneazles?” I asked.

“The ones that are suitable for shows and further breeding,” Mary explained.

“We would have it as a pet and we are not looking to breed kneazles.” Nova's voice turned cheerful.

“Well,” Mary put her hands on her hips, “there is one then. I was planning to keep him for myself but if he'd like you I would gladly give him to you.”

She invited us inside and we followed her upstairs.

“What's wrong with him?” Nova wanted to know.

“He is completely healthy and loves to eat,” Mary laughed, “but there was an accident when the litter was a few weeks old.”

“What happened?” Aoede got curious.

“He was trying to make friends with my Venomous Tentacula.”

Mary opened the door and motioned with her hand that we should come inside.

“Hi, sweetness, I brought you some company,” Mary said in a baby voice.

The room was full of kneazle equipment and the kneazle Mary addressed was the only one inside. He was orange with brown spots and the only thing I could see being wrong with him was the tipped left ear.

Andrei, Nova, and I stood in the doorway while Nova encouraged Aoede to enter the room. She made a cautious step toward Mary, fidgeting with her fingers.

“Go on, he's friendly.” Mary smiled at Aoede.

Aoede took a deep breath and sat down. Nova's eyebrows raised, while Andrei and I exchanged a look.

Aoede didn't move nor called the kneazle, she waited patiently for him to come to her. Since kneazles are big on trust this was a smart move and it blew me away that my three-year-old knew what to do.

The kneazle tilted its head to the side and observed Aoede as if she was the only one in the room. He looked very playful and after a few moments approached Aoede carefully. He sat down right in front of her and tilted his head again.

I have never seen my daughter sit so still. She was always running around or talking to us or drawing on my arm or making ponytails on my head or painting my nails. The only time she didn't move was when she was sleeping and even then we sometimes found her on the other side of the bed compared to where she fell asleep.

I can't find the words to express how proud I was of her at that moment and I felt like crying and hugging her and telling her that she's the best but I had to be patient like she was with the kneazle and do that later. If nothing else her behavior proved to me that she was ready to have a pet.

The kneazle took another step forward and extended his paw toward Aoede. She carefully moved her right arm and placed her hand over his paw. The creature purred and jumped in Aoede's arms.

“Oh, how wonderful!” Mary clapped excitedly.

Andrei looked almost as proud as I did and I caught myself observing the scene with my mouth open.

“Yeah...wonderful.” I turned to Nova who was sobbing and brushing away her tears.

“Oh, you ale so pletty! Look at youl ful and colols and oh,” Aoede gasped, “look at youl eal!”

“That's Tentacula's work.” Mary shook her head.

“He is pelfect!” Aoede turned around to see our reaction.

“I think he likes you, Pumpkin.” I sent her a wink.

“Mhm,” Nova mumbled, looking ever so proud.

“He's all yours, Aoede.” Mary walked to her and put her hand on her shoulder.

“I have to ask mummy and daddy filst.” Aoede gently hugged the kneazle and placed him on the ground so she could stand up.

“Can we have him, dad?” Aoede stopped in front of me, looking up and waiting for my answer.

I turned my head to Nova to see what she has to say about it. She nodded her head slightly and I bent down to our daughter.

“We can have him.”

“What is his name?” Aoede asked all of a sudden as if she has just remembered she doesn't know his name yet.

“I didn't name him for some reason. I just kept calling him sweetness, so the honor is all yours.” Mary smiled at her.

“Oh!” Aoede's eyes sparkled as she was thinking of the name. “Tigel!”

“Tiger?” Nova, Andrei, and I said at the same time.

“Tigel,” Aoede repeated.

“You're going to name a creature after another creature?” I raised my eyebrow.

“You're the one to talk!” Nova laughed. “Have you forgotten that you named an abraxan at my aunt's Dragon?” She nudged me with her elbow.

“Touché. I completely forgot about that.” I felt the heat on my cheeks as I scratched the back of my head.

—

“Another thing she has after you.” Nova giggled.

“And what's that?” I put my arm around her waist as we walked toward our house.

Andrei was helping Aoede carry Tiger and all the supplies Mary gave us for him.

“She is as bad at naming creatures as you are.” Nova pressed more into me, while I just playfully rolled my eyes.

I didn't care what she named him. Aoede had many moments so far that made me a proud father but her interaction with the kneazle beat all of those moments' arses by far and even though she probably got her intuition for animals from Nova, I was happy that she got the creature-naming after me – even though, I had to agree, not the best trait to inherit.

#harry potter hogwarts mystery #harry potter fanfiction #hphm charlie #charlie weasley #charlie weasley fanfiction #hogwarts mystery mc #the weasleys #hphm fanfiction #hp imagine #charlie weasley x oc #hphm imagine #charlie weasley imagine #harry potter imagine #weasley fanfiction #the burrow

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keanureevesisbae · 4 years

Text

Mister Cavill, your dog is kinda fat - Chapter 1

Summary: Veterinarian Olivia Tran has zero time for bullshit. After becoming a mom at age twenty three, the one thing she wants is a good life for her daughter Vanessa. Her ex didn’t want anything to do with her nor the baby and she decided that man are officially banned out of her life. But then she meets Henry Cavill at her clinic and her ban slowly starts to crumble apart. Henry on the other hand is looking for one thing: a family. And when he meets Olivia Tran, he finds just that.

Henry Cavill x Olivia Tran (ofc)

Warnings: None

Wordcount: 2.4k

A/N: The beginnings of a new fic! It’s kind of a build up, so there isn’t a lot of Henry Cavill inthis chapter, but the next one is from his pov and more than 4.5k. I hope you like this new story 🤗

Masterlist // Next chapter

For fuck’s sake, I can still smell the fluids from those anal glands I have been popping all day. Even when you wear gloves every single time, that penetrating smell will just stay with you.

After a long day at the clinic, I can finally call it a day. Of course, I’m on call tonight, but other than that, I can relax now. Working as a vet has always been a dream of mine and now, at the ripe age of twenty nine, I have managed to become doctor Olivia Tran, one of the loved veterinarians here.

‘See you tomorrow, Belle,’ I yell to my best friend and other veterinarian at this clinic.

‘You on call tonight?’ Belle asks.

‘I am.’

‘If you need to go, I can’t watch Vanessa tonight,’ she tells me, while she is checking the ears of a pug, who seems to have severe breathing problems from the looks of it. ‘I have a date.’

‘No worries,’ I say to her with a smile. ‘I probably don’t need to go anyways. Hasn’t happened in the past months, so I highly doubt that something will change tonight. Please let me know how your date went tomorrow.’

Belle, the gorgeous brunette with legs for days and blue eyes as big as Rapunzel, flashes me a bright smile. ‘Of course, dear. Give Vanessa a big kiss for me, will you?’

‘Will do.’ I walk out of the clinic, give a sweet Jack Russell a scratch behind his ear and check my watch. I have twenty minutes before I have to pick up Vanessa, but it’s a fifteen minute walk if I hurry and if I just stroll around, it’s twenty minutes. Can I manage to buy myself some cookies or should I wait after I picked her up?

I think I would have a very happy six year old if I waited with the cookies after I picked her up from school.

I bury my hands in the pockets of my coat. Yesterday it was official: the summer has passed and autumn is here. I always love it when I see the green leaves slowly turning orange or brown and cover the pavement with a blanket of crunchy leaves. It’s Vanessa’s favorite season as well, but that’s mostly because it’s her birthday on November 12th.

I never planned on becoming a mother at twenty three. I never really gave it a big thought, the idea of having kids. In the far far far future I might’ve become one, but I always thought I had more cool aunt potential.

The day I found out I was pregnant, I was scared, but since I was in a pretty serious relationship with Wesley for almost three years, the man I thought I’d end up marrying, I figured we would make this work. We would marry, have this kid and live happily ever after, maybe even have a few more.

But Wesley broke up with me when I told him about the pregnancy and that I was going to keep the baby. I went to my parents for comfort, thinking that they and my two brothers would be supportive of this. We got through the time that I was partying all night, getting tattoos and smoked some weed out of my window. I mean, we would be able to handle this right?

But my parents kicked me out when I told them I was pregnant and I was going to keep the baby. ‘But what about your degree?’ I can still hear my mother say those words, but what was maybe the worst thing, was seeing my brothers turning their backs to me. Their literal backs towards me. ‘You worked so hard and you just got a job as a vet,’ my mom began to yell.

To be fair, I was their only hope. My brothers dropped out of high school and are now sort of working in construction, but they can hardly finish a job ever. My mother never worked a day in her life and my father was a lawyer. I told them that I could work something out, with a bit of help of them, but my mother just pushed me out of their house and told me to never bother them again, if I was going to have a kid out of wedlock.

So I had to do it by myself. I had to find a place for me and the baby to stay, but thankfully Belle was already working at the vet and decided that I needed a bit of help. I could stay with her, even after the baby was born. Belle went with me to the ultrasounds and when I went into labor, she was right there with me.

Belle is Vanessa’s one and only aunt and my best friend. When you get pregnant and not only your boyfriend leaves, your family disappears out of your life, you also notice how many people despise you. My friends from college all of the sudden seemed to have fallen off the earth and never checked in with me.

Now I have a happy six year old, a nice home for the two of us and a baby sitter Belle, who is becoming less and less available, since she has discovered the world of Tinder, because she wants a boyfriend.

I hear the bell ring when I step onto the schoolyard. It doesn’t take long before I see my daughter running towards me. Her baby blue coat is hanging open, her backpack in her hand and a rolled paper in the other. She insisted on wearing her boots to school today, but leave it to her to cover them in mud.

Entirely.

I catch her when she jumps in my arms. ‘I missed you, my lovely lady,’ I say to her.

Vanessa peppers my face with kisses, something she always does when I pick her up from school. I brush the hairs out of her face, including the sweet bangs that she insisted on having. Originally she wanted the same haircut as me from when I was the same age as her, but since I have severe traumas of the bowl cut, I had to spare her that and opt for some sweet thin bangs.

‘Mommy,’ she says, ‘I missed you a lot.’

‘Well, you want to go to the store, so we can buy some cookies?’ I ask her. ‘And maybe tonight we can order a pizza.’

‘Yes, yes, yes!’ She gives me a tight hug.

Sometimes I doubt my parenting skills, especially when I look around the schoolyard. I watch those mothers who are housewives, with very handsome husbands and kids that always look formidable and put together and probably only eat fatty snacks on their birthdays. Sometimes I wished I had that: a husband, a man that Vanessa could look up to.

I figured that when my ex Wesley couldn’t provide that, my brothers and father would step in and treat my daughter like they treated me: a princess.

Now I have to do that myself.

It can be tiring, being both the mother and the father for Vanessa, but if I could turn back time, I’d do it all over again.

With Vanessa’s tiny hand in mine, we walk towards the store, to buy some cookies that I desperately craved the entire day I was at work.

Vanessa looks a lot like me. She’s basically my clone. People often stop us, simply to tell us that Vanessa is like a miniature version of me. I always like compliments about my daughter. I mean, she is my world.

When we arrive at home, I help her change into something more comfy. ‘Mommy, can we please have a pajama night?’ Vanessa asks, while I help her out of her dress.

‘It’s four in the afternoon,’ I say, knowing exactly what she wants. ‘You want to wait two hours before you wear your pajamas?’

Vanessa shakes her head. ‘No, I want to wear my pjs now.’ Her bright smile nearly lights up the room. I watch her nose scrunch up as the corners of her mouth curl up, the only trait that she inherited from her biological father. ‘Are you going to wear yours too?’

I don’t have anywhere to go and besides, after all popping all those anal glands today, I desperately want to get out of these clothes. ‘Yes, sweetie, I’m going to wear mine too, but first I’m going to take a shower.’

‘No bath, mommy? Because I like baths.’ Her dark brown eyes start to gleam with enthusiasm. ‘Please, mommy, please.’ She pouts, knowing damn well I can’t say no to that.

≫≫≪≪

The second Vanessa is in bed, I have some time for myself. I love every second we get to spend together, but it’s nice to have a breather every now and then. I stare at my arms, to see how Vanessa has colored in my tattoos. She’s obsessed with them and when she’s in school, she sometimes tries to draw them on her own arms by memory, sometimes even drawing on others when they want to. A few weeks ago, her teacher asked her what she wanted to be when she grew up. ‘Well, I want to be two things,’ Vanessa told her. ‘Like my mommy I want to be a vet, because I love animals, but I also want to draw tattoos on people.’

I sit up straight, looking at the drawing she made me today in school. She always makes drawings for me, but they are always the same. She draws a house, with me in it and herself. And outside she draws a dog and a man, with suitcases and moving boxes next to them. ‘Because,’ she explains every single time, ‘one day you meet a nice man who has a dog and he can become my new daddy. A daddy that does want me.’

Belle didn’t agree on me telling Vanessa her real dad didn’t want her, but I figured she needed to know the truth. Her biological father is a low life that disappeared into thin air and didn’t want to be involved in her life.

Vanessa understood, to the extent that was possible, but she really wants a dad, preferably one with a dog. Though she keeps pushing me, I can’t start dating again. Vanessa is the most important person in the world and men simply don’t fit into this—in my head—perfect picture. Vanessa is my life and men are big fat losers, so I don’t need them. I don’t want them, because the chance of them getting tired of maybe me, maybe Vanessa and leaving, is something I can’t risk.

Vanessa already lost her real father, what if a man that becomes really important to her, leaves too?

At around eleven I drag myself to bed, placing my work phone beside me. I hate being on call, but like I told Belle, I didn’t have a call in months, so I think I’m good.

I’m dreaming about Keanu Reeves (the only man on earth that I’d break my no man ban for) and how he takes me out on a lovely date, has Vanessa on his lap and helps her to cut her food, when the phone starts to ring.

‘Are you fucking kidding me?’ I mutter, before I click on my nightlight. It’s three in the fucking morning. I don’t want this. ‘Animal Clinic Westside, doctor Olivia Tran, how may I help you?’ I say when I pick up the phone.

‘Hello, I’m terribly sorry for calling at this hour, but my dog is vomiting and I see some blood in it.’ Oh, poor man, he sounds so panicked. ‘He collapsed and is breathing really heavily and I don’t know what to do.’

I sit up straight in bed and rub my eyes, as I try to be as alert as I can on this early morning. ‘Sir, it’s okay. Did your dog eat anything out of the ordinary today?’

‘Not that I know of.’

‘You think it’s possible for you to come to the clinic? I’d like to see the dog.’

‘Of course, of course.’ The man on the other side of the line has such a lovely and deep voice. He could become a voice actor or a narrator like Morgan Freeman. If liquid gold had a voice, it would sound like this.

‘I hope it’s not too much to ask, but could you take some of the vomit with you? Especially the part with some blood. I’d like to check it.’

‘I’ll bring it with me, of course.’

‘What kind of breed is your dog, sir?’ I ask, while writing it all down on a piece of paper.

‘An American Akita. His name is Kal.’

I don’t think he ever went to our clinic, I think to myself.

‘I’ll be at the clinic in about forty minutes, mister…’ I say, hoping that this man will say his name.

‘Cavill,’ he quickly says. ‘And I can be at the clinic in about an hour.’

That name does sound kind of familiar though, but I could’ve sworn that this man isn’t in our database. Maybe I went to college with him or to high school?

After we hang up the phone, I quickly get out of bed. I opt for a pair of tight fitted black leggings and an oversized sweater (after I put on a bra, because who knows mister Cavill is handsome and my nipples don’t want to keep that a secret) and I slip on some white sneakers. I put my hair into a bun. I freeze when I’m moisturizing my face.

I kind of forgot I had a daughter. I don’t like the idea of bringing Vanessa with me, especially since it’s three in the morning and she’s asleep, but then I realize that tomorrow it’s Saturday. Plenty of time for her to catch up on her sleep and plenty of time for me to feel less guilty about dragging her out of her dreams.

‘Sweetie,’ I whisper, when I gently wake her up. ‘Mommy has to go to the clinic, but you can’t stay at aunt Belle tonight, so you’re going with me to work.’

Vanessa was a groggy mess when I nudged her awake, but when she realizes she can go with me to work, her eyes light up. ‘Really?’

‘Yes, someone has a sick doggy, that needs to be taken care of.’

She gets up out of her bed and I help her with her socks, though she is perfectly capable of doing so herself. ‘You’re gonna save a doggy?’ Vanessa asks.

‘I’m going to try.’

I hand her a thick vest and while she puts it on, she says: ‘You’re a hero, mommy.’

With a smile on my face, I softly pinch her cheek. ‘I guess I am.’

Taglist: @thelastsock // @flhorah // @sausagefest1996 // @laufeysodinson // @xxxkatxo // @memoriesat30 // @henrythickcavill // @crimsonrae // @henryobsessed // @madbaddic7ed // @summersong69

#henry cavill #henry cavill x ofc #henry cavill x oc #mister cavill your dog is kinda fat #henry cavill fanfic #henry cavill x Olivia Tran

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buckybarnesdollface · 3 years

Text

Traditions: Chapter 2

Summary: Some old Christmas traditions lead to new traditions.

Warnings: Smut, fluff, female reader

I knew even before I opened my eyes that I wasn’t waking up in my bed. My head was pillowed on something solid and warm, and I blinked open my eyes to see that I was stretched out on the couch and my head was resting on Bucky’s stomach. Sometime during our late-night conversation, I must have dozed off, as had Bucky, but not before he’d draped the blanket from the back of the couch over me. He had slumped against the couch cushions, legs outstretched and feet resting on the ottoman. A warm hand rested lightly on my hip over the blanket, and my own hand – embarrassingly – was gripping his thigh.

Horrified, I tried to extract myself from this awkward position without waking Bucky, but my efforts were in vain – With a soft sigh and a shift of his body, Bucky’s hand squeezed my hip lightly, sending a jolt through my body.

“Mornin', doll,” his voice rumbled from above me, still thick with sleep. “Guess neither of us made it to our beds.”

I pushed myself up off of him, leaning back into the couch cushions and rubbing the sleep from my eyes. Bucky was watching me with his bottom lip tugged between his teeth, eyes still heavy with sleep, and I felt my stomach do a flip. I dropped my gaze to my hands and cleared my throat before speaking.

“When…when did I fall asleep?”

“Around quarter after three. We were talking and the next thing I looked down and you were asleep.” He grinned ruefully. “You looked so cozy all snuggled up against me; I didn’t want to wake you by moving you, so I covered you with the blanket and let you sleep. I guess I must have dozed off not long after that.”

My cheeks were flaming by this point. “I’m sorry,” I mumbled. “That couldn’t have been very comfortable for you –”

Bucky cut me off. “Actually, I slept great,” he said. “Falling asleep next to a warm fire and a Christmas tree, with a pretty dame curled up against me? What more could a guy want?” He waggled his eyebrows at me playfully, and my eyes widened before narrowing at him.

“Asshole,” I grumbled, swatting at his chest. He laughed and shook his head.

“I’m only messin’ with ya, (Y/N),” he chuckled. “For the record, though, it wasn’t the worst sleep I’ve ever had. In fact, it was probably one of the better ones. It was peaceful; no nightmares.”

At this I couldn’t help but smile. “Good,” I murmured. “Now c’mon, I need coffee. Maybe we can sneak some of those molasses cookies, too.”

But there would be no sneaking anything. Both my parents and Katie and Jeremy were all in the kitchen when Bucky and I shuffled our way in. My cheeks were on fire and I ducked my head. Even Bucky was blushing as four pairs of eyes landed on us.

“Finally decided to get up, huh?” my dad taunted.

“We fell asleep talking,” I grumbled. Jeremy and Katie snickered and I shot them a glare.

“You never could resist sneaking downstairs to fall asleep by the tree,” my mom said. “Your father and I used to have to carry you back up to your bed.” She handed mugs of coffee to both Bucky and I, and although her smile was warm her hazel eyes sparkled with something more. I frowned and lifted the mug to my lips.

“Busy day today,” my dad said. “Make sure you’re ready to leave by three-thirty.”

As was tradition, we were going to my grandparents’ place for Christmas Eve dinner. We spent the rest of the morning watching Home Alone, and then I disappeared upstairs to shower and get ready.

An hour later, I had tamed my curls, put on a full face of makeup and donned a black-and-red dress. I checked the mirror and touched up my red lipstick before stepping out into the hall and colliding with a really large, really solid body.

“Sorry!” I squeaked at the same time that one warm and one cool hand steadied me. I looked up to see Bucky regarding me with his lips slightly quirked up.

“You should watch where you’re going, doll,” he teased as his hands released my arms. “If you’re not careful you’ll end up hurting yourself.”

I glared at him half-heartedly. “I didn’t expect to run into a goddamn brick wall coming out of my room,” I quipped. “What are you doing outside my door?”

Bucky blushed. “I was waiting for you,” he said. “I, uh…”

He trailed off, and he didn’t have to finish for me to understand what he was getting at. He was nervous about meeting my grandparents and my aunts and uncles. I gave him an encouraging smile and took his hand into mine.

“So far everyone in my family loves you; it’ll be fine,” I assured him, and then I grinned. “Plus, I’m pretty sure my grandmother is making lasagna.”

Bucky’s eyebrows shot up. “You mean the lasagna? The stuff you always bragged to the team about?”

“The one and only.”

“I hope she’s made lots, then,” Bucky said, patting his stomach. “I can eat a crazy amount of lasagna.”

“Don’t worry,” I teased, “I already warned everyone to prepare; I told them that a supersoldier’s appetite is like a dog with the munchies.”

Bucky gave me an indignant look. “Way to make me look good,” he said wryly, and I shrugged.

“It’s the truth. Between you and Steve, it’s amazing there’s even any food left in the compound for the rest of us. And don’t even get me started on how much it must cost Tony when the team orders takeout –”

“Alright, alright, that’s enough,” Bucky snorted, dragging me towards the stairs. I grinned mischievously at him, a grin he returned with sparkling eyes.

The minute we stepped into my grandparents’ house it was a flurry of hugs and a chorus of “How have you been?”, as well as a multitude of other questions and exclamations from family members, many of whom I hadn’t seen since last Christmas. As Katie, Jeremy and I got caught up with everyone and my parents went to help my grandparents prepare dinner and get everyone drinks, Bucky stood awkwardly in the doorway of the porch. Finally, my aunt Maureen noticed him over my shoulder and she arched a perfectly-shaped eyebrow.

“And who is this handsome young man?” she asked, and I had to stifle a snort because even though Bucky looked young enough to be her son, he was actually old enough to be her grandfather. I could tell Bucky knew what I was thinking from the way his dark eyebrows pulled together only slightly at me, but he plastered on a smile as I tugged him forward.

“This is Bucky,” I announced, one hand resting on his arm to hopefully help ease the nerves I knew he still felt. “He’s a friend from work.”

“Ah,” my grandfather said on his way by after having grabbed a beer from the fridge. “It’s about time you brought a boyfriend to meet us. I was beginning to wonder if I’d live to see it.”

My cheeks flushed crimson, and I immediately let go of Bucky’s arm as I shook my head vigorously. “No, he’s not my boyfriend,” I stuttered. “He’s a friend from work. He didn’t have plans for Christmas so I invited him to spend it with us.”

I couldn’t bring myself to look at Bucky. My grandfather huffed before taking his beer to the sitting room, and Maureen leaned in to whisper, “You’d do good to make him more than a friend, he’s very good-looking.”

By now I was sure I was the colour of a tomato. Without having to look I knew Bucky was trying and failing at concealing a smirk – His supersoldier ears would have picked up Maureen’s comments with ease.

Needing a drink, I ducked past everyone and poured myself a glass of wine. After Maureen had finished fawning over Bucky and grilling him with questions, he migrated over to the corner of the kitchen I had chosen to nurse my drink.

“Your aunt is…” he started, and I cut him off.

“She’s only my aunt by marriage,” I corrected. “She’s my uncle’s second wife.” I took a swig of my wine. “But yes, she can be hard to take in more than small doses.”

“I was going to say talkative.”

I snorted. “That’s an understatement.” I lifted my glass. “Do you want a drink? We have plenty; there’s never a shortage of booze in this family.”

“You know alcohol does nothing to me, right?” Bucky said, one eyebrow cocked, and I shrugged.

“You could still have one in the spirit of the season. Beer or wine?”

Bucky rolled his eyes, but his lips twitched at the corners. “Beer,” he finally said, and I grabbed one from the fridge. He murmured a “thanks” as he popped the cap off with a flick of his thumb and lifted the bottle to his lips. I waited for him to swallow before I spoke, tracing my fingers over the rim of my wine glass.

“I’m sorry about my grandfather,” I mumbled, and Bucky snorted.

“Don’t be,” he told me. “That was kind of savage, though. I get the impression it’s a subject that he brings up a lot?”

I frowned, downing the rest of my wine. “Every family gathering,” I muttered. “It’s always ‘why are you still single’ or ‘when are you going to get a boyfriend’. Both Katie and Jeremy have brought home people; my grandparents probably think there’s something wrong with me.”

“What, there’s not?” Bucky taunted, and when I glared at him, he laughed.

“Shut up.”

“I’m only kidding, (Y/N).” He cocked his head at me thoughtfully. “Is there any particular reason you haven’t brought anyone home before, though?”

I shrugged, my cheeks pink. “I dunno. There was just never anyone I liked enough to bring home, I guess,” I said, and Bucky nodded.

“Well,” he said after a minute, the ghost of a smirk on his lips. “Of all the things I’ve ever been called, your boyfriend certainly isn’t the worst.”

My stomach did a flip, and I couldn’t conceal my grin as I poured myself another glass of wine. “C’mon,” I chuckled, nudging him towards the sitting room. “Let’s go socialize before any rumours start.”

It was an evening full of good food and good company. My family, god bless them, welcomed Bucky as if he were one of their own – They included him in conversations, were genuinely interested in learning about him without breaching subjects that would make him uncomfortable, and by the time dessert was served it was as if he had been a part of our Christmas dinners for years. I saw a side of Bucky that I rarely saw except with Steve; he was carefree and charming and the happiest I’d seen him around a group of people he hardly knew.

Right now, he was in the middle of animatedly telling a story about him and Steve back in the thirties to my family. I had heard the story a few times already, but it had always been told from Steve’s perspective with Bucky offering a couple of details to fill in the blanks – To hear Bucky tell it was something else entirely. I sat next to him, my chin resting on my knuckles and a smile quirking my lips up as I watched him speak.

“And so we ended up having to ride in the back of a freezer truck all the way from Rockaway Beach back to Brooklyn because we blew our train money on hot dogs,” he exclaimed, earning him a chorus of laughter from around the table. My dad cocked an eyebrow.

“You spent all the money you had on hot dogs?” he asked incredulously, and Bucky’s grin was mischievous. I couldn’t help but grin myself, knowing this part of the story all too well.

“Not exactly,” he replied. “As Steve often likes to remind me, I blew three dollars on some silly carnival game trying to win a stuffed bear for a girl I never saw again.”

The men at the table all nodded as if in understanding, and the women shook their heads and chuckled.

“So, what does three dollars back in the thirties equal nowadays?” my grandfather asked out of curiosity. Bucky’s cheekiness faltered, and I smirked; this was my favourite part of the story.

“Around fifty-six dollars,” he mumbled sheepishly, and the table howled with laughter. Bucky hung his head in mock embarrassment, but the corners of his lips twitched.

The coffee percolator dinged from the kitchen, signalling the coffee was ready. My grandmother was about to get up but I shook my head and stood first. “I’ll get it,” I offered, but she looked uncertain.

“You can’t carry it all in by yourself,” she protested, but then Bucky was standing as well.

“I’ll help her,” he said, and I shot him a grateful smile of thanks as he followed me out to the kitchen.

“Can you bring the sugar and cream in?” I asked, gesturing to the small china dishes on the kitchen table before pulling some mugs out of the cupboard and setting them on the table for Bucky to get when he came back. I grabbed the coffee pot and a trivet to take to the dining room, but as I rounded the corner I nearly collided with Bucky. His hands reached out to steady me before I could spill the scalding coffee all over the both of us.

“Easy there, doll,” Bucky chuckled, and I blushed.

“Sorry,” I mumbled, and he was just about to step out of the way to let me through when my grandfather spoke up.

“No you don’t, not so fast,” he said. “It’s bad luck not to kiss under the mistletoe.”

Confusion wrinkled my brow, and both mine and Bucky’s gazes drifted up. Sure enough, hung from the top of the doorframe was a small cluster of green leaves and red berries, tied together with a shiny red bow. I groaned inwardly and rolled my eyes, shaking my head.

“Nope, not doing that,” I said quickly. “No one else has kissed under this tonight, so neither are we.”

“Your grandfather and I did just before dinner,” my grandmother exclaimed, and I pursed my lips.

“C’mon, (Y/N); you know we don’t break Christmas traditions in this family,” my uncle taunted, grinning wickedly. Fighting the urge to once again roll my eyes, I looked nervously at Bucky. He only shrugged, as if to say, “Let’s just do it so they’ll stop harassing us.”

“Fine,” I finally sighed, and Bucky’s eyes widened just a fraction before he leaned in and pressed a barely-there peck to my mouth. When he straightened, I cleared my throat and was just about to move past him when three separate voices “boo”-ed us from the table.

“You call that a kiss?” Katie snorted, and I shot her the deadliest glare I could muster. She only smirked in response.

“Katie’s right,” my grandfather said. “A man that would spend that much money trying to impress a girl surely knows how to kiss one.”

I opened my mouth to protest, positive my grandfather had crossed a line, but before any sound could come out Bucky’s hands were on my waist as he gathered me to him, covering my mouth with his.

The first thing I noticed was that Bucky’s lips were softer than I had expected, like velvet moving against my own lips. He tasted like apple pie and gingerbread, and I could feel my eyes drifting closed as I fell into the kiss. His hands tightened just the slightest bit on my waist, causing my heart rate to pick up, and the next thing I knew I could feel the handle of the coffee pot slipping from my fingers and I jerked back from Bucky, tightening the grip on the handle before I’d have to clean up coffee and broken glass off the hardwood floor.

“The mugs,” I mumbled, brought back to reality. My cheeks and chest were burning and I couldn’t meet anyone’s eyes, least of all Bucky’s.

“Right, the mugs,” Bucky mumbled, ducking into the kitchen.

I could feel everyone’s eyes on Bucky and I for the remainder of dinner. When it came time to go back to my parents’ place, I was relieved.

My grandmother stopped me on my way out the door. “You know,” she said, “according to the Germans, if you kiss someone under the mistletoe it means you’re bound to end up living a long and happy life together.”

My cheeks were red and my stomach did a flip. “I’ll see you tomorrow, Gram,” I mumbled, and her eyes sparkled as she closed the door behind me.

Back at home, everyone settled down in the living room to relax and get comfortable after stuffing themselves with food at dinner. I had just poured myself a glass of eggnog and was about to join them when Bucky’s hand circled lightly around my wrist.

“Can we talk for a minute?” he asked, and my heart hammered against my ribcage as my gaze involuntarily flickered to his lips. I had no idea what was wrong with me; Bucky was my friend. I wasn’t supposed to want him to kiss me. I cursed my grandparents and their damned mistletoe.

“Um, yeah,” I finally said weakly. Bucky released my wrist to run a hand through his hair.

“I’m sorry,” he murmured, and my brow furrowed.

“What the hell are you sorry about?” I asked. “I’m the one who should be apologizing; my family was way out of line…”

To my surprise Bucky chuckled, shaking his head. “They meant well. I just…” He trailed off, face sheepish. “I’m scared that maybe I crossed a line.”

My eyes widened. “Buck, no,” I assured him quickly. “I was a little caught off-guard, that’s all.”

Bucky gave me a rueful smile. “That’s your grandfather’s fault. I, uh…I may have let my pride get the better of me. I’m sorry.”

I couldn’t help the giggle that escaped my lips, and Bucky cocked a dark eyebrow at me as his mouth quirked up on one side.

“What’s so funny, doll?”

“Just that apparently even supersoldiers feel the need to prove their masculinity,” I teased. Bucky’s cheeks were tinted pink, but he shrugged.

“Couldn’t let everyone think I didn’t know what I was doing.”

“Trust me, Buck; anyone that takes one look at you will not doubt your capability for even a second.”

Bucky gave me a hesitant smile. “So you’re alright?” he asked, and I nodded.

“Of all the things that have ever happened to me,” I told him, “that certainly wasn’t the worst.”

The answering smile he gave me was adorable, a mix between smug and shy, and his blue eyes sparkled. I jerked my head towards the living room.

“Come on,” I urged. “I have a surprise for you.”

Once Bucky was settled into his place on the loveseat, I pulled a book from the bookshelf and sat down in the armchair across from him. My dad turned off the TV, and Bucky’s brow creased as he regarded me with confusion. I winked playfully at him before opening the book to the first page.

“Marley was dead, to begin with,” I read. “There is no doubt whatever about that.”

I looked up to see Bucky’s face light up, and I grinned before turning my attention back to the book.

Once I’d read the entire story, everyone decided it was time to go to bed. As I was sliding the book back onto the shelf, Bucky set a hand on my arm. I turned around to find him looking at me with an unreadable expression on his face.

“Did you do that for me?” he asked softly, and I shrugged nonchalantly.

“Just because you’re spending Christmas with my family doesn’t mean it can’t reflect your family’s Christmas as well,” I replied. “I know how much it meant to you, and when I mentioned it to my family, they thought it was a great idea.” I bit my lip. “You liked it? It wasn’t…presumptuous, or weird?”

The next thing I knew I was being pulled into a hug. “It was perfect,” Bucky murmured as he pulled away from me. “Thank you, (Y/N). Truly.”

I gave him a cheerful smile. “You’re welcome. Now let’s get to bed or Santa won’t stop here.”

Try as I might, though, I couldn’t fall asleep. My mind was wide awake, replaying what had happened after dinner on a loop. The way Bucky’s hands had been so sure when pulling me to him, and the way his velvet lips had worked me into a dizzy haze right in front of an entire room of my family…

I let out a huff of frustration. Bucky and I were friends. I’d never had more than platonic feelings for him, not until…Well, until I’d brought him home to spend Christmas with me. Maybe that was all it was, though; Christmas to me had always been the most romantic time of year, and I had always spent it alone. Maybe having Bucky here with me made me feel less lonely, and the feelings would go away once the holidays were over.

That did nothing, however, to quell the ache I had right now to feel those lips on me again.

“Fuck,” I groaned, louder than I’d intended, and then I rolled over dramatically and aggressively fluffed my pillows to try and get comfortable. I had barely settled when a soft knock sounded on my door.

I sat up, hesitating. “Come in,” I finally said, and the door creaked open slowly to reveal Bucky, clad in gray sweatpants and a tight black t-shirt. His frame filled the doorway, and I could see in the soft light of the Christmas lights my mother had strung in the window that his brow was furrowed.

“I…I heard you groan,” he told me, rubbing the back of his neck awkwardly. “I came to check if you were okay.”

When he lifted his arm his shirt rode up, exposing a sliver of skin and those perfectly-crafted abs of his. My tongue darted out to wet my lips involuntarily and I could feel the blood rise in my cheeks.

“I, uh…I can’t sleep,” I mumbled, and Bucky shook his head.

“Me, either.”

I frowned. “Is it your family again? Bucky, if I upset you with that story –”

“No, doll, it’s nothing like that,” he said quickly. All of a sudden, a sheepish grin spread across his face. “I was…I was actually thinking about how I’d actually let your grandfather goad me on like that earlier.”

“Bucky…” My blush deepened and I shook my head. “We already went over this; you don’t have to explain yourself.”

“Oh, but I think I do.” He shifted from one foot to the other. “Can I come in?”

“Yes,” I said weakly, before my brain knew what I was doing. Bucky stepped into the room and closed the door quietly behind him before coming to hesitantly sit on the edge of my mattress. I sat up straighter and pulled my legs in to give him more room, all the while my heart pounding so hard against my ribs I was sure he could hear it. He licked his lips before continuing, and I couldn’t help that my gaze was drawn to his mouth, where it lingered until he spoke.

“When your grandfather made that comment,” he said, “it was…it was like a switch had been flipped inside of me. Ever since you brought me home to meet your family all I’d wanted was for them to accept me as a human being, as someone normal and functioning and someone they wanted to have around during their Christmas celebrations, but…” He shook his head and smiled ruefully. “The more time I spent around you and your family, and got to know the (Y/N) that grew up in this house, the more I realized that I not only wanted them to like me, but I wanted them to like me for you.”

Bucky was looking at me from under the thick fringe of his eyelashes, nerves etched into his features. I blinked, trying to process what he’d just said. I opened my mouth to speak, but my throat had gone dry and it came out raspy.

“What…what are you saying, Buck?”

“I’m saying,” he murmured, “that when your grandfather challenged me to kiss you it spurred something inside of me. All of a sudden, I had the urge to prove to them, to you and to myself that I was good enough for you. He offered me a chance to stake my claim on you, and I seized it all too eagerly.” Bucky shook his head, cheeks tinted pink. “No, that came out wrong. I didn’t mean to make it sound like you’re mine to take, you aren’t property –”

But he didn’t get to finish his sentence, because I was on my knees and pressing a finger to his lips to silence him. His eyes widened, but I wasn’t about to let him continue until I had some questions answered.

“You…Were you trying to get my family’s approval?” I breathed in disbelief. Cheeks ruddy, Bucky nodded, but I continued before he could even open his mouth. “So that kiss…That wasn��t just because of the mistletoe?”

“No,” Bucky murmured, voice soft but firm. “I’ve wanted to kiss you since you took my hand on the plane and told me not to worry about everyone staring at me.”

My insides melted, and I bit my lip. “Why didn’t you?” I whispered, and he gave me a small smile.

“It would have drawn even more attention to me,” he chuckled, and then he cast his eyes downward. “And I…We were going to be spending the next week together with your parents, and I didn’t want them to hate me.”

My brow furrowed. “Hate you? Why the hell would they hate you?”

“Because I was either going to be the guy that came on to you on the plane and ruined your Christmas vacation by making it awkward, or I was going to be the guy that your parents would never approve of because of all the horrible things I’ve done.”

Bucky’s eyes were swimming with sadness, and I felt a lump form in my throat, angry at the world for making such a kind, selfless, beautiful man hate himself so much that he believed other people should hate him too. Narrowing my eyes, I crawled across the bed until I was kneeling in front of him. I took his chin between my fingers and thumb, his stubble scratchy against my fingertips, and directed his eyes to mine.

“Bucky Barnes,” I said in an even voice, “are you trying to tell me that you don’t think you’re good enough for me?”

“I’m not,” he mumbled. “You come from a world of family dinners and unconditional love and ridiculously cheesy and charming holiday traditions. And I…” He swallowed hard and pulled away from my grasp to avert his eyes. “I come from a world of murder and torture and fear. We aren’t the same, (Y/N). And I can’t keep pretending we are.”

Well, this was certainly not how I’d pictured this conversation going. I glared at him. “Why do you have to pretend?” I demanded. “That kiss sure as hell wasn’t pretend. For the love of god, Buck, would you let yourself be happy for once? You don’t come from all that tragedy; you came from a family with the same values as mine. Just because it was a long time ago doesn’t make it any less true.” I allowed him a small smile. “And for the record, my family adores you. They think you’re charming and kind and a delight to be around. They’re all very happy you’re spending Christmas with us.”

Bucky lifted his head, hope flickering in his blue eyes. “And you…?” he finally asked, his voice barely above a whisper.

I decided to take the plunge. I licked my lips, eyes holding his as I spoke. “Well,” I murmured, my voice husky, “I haven’t been able to stop thinking about that kiss since it happened, if I’m being honest. It’s what kept me awake, thinking about how I wished my entire family hadn’t been watching so we could have kept going…”

I trailed off, watching the heavy rise and fall of Bucky’s chest with every breath he took. There was conflict in his eyes.

“(Y/N)…”

My name was a groan on his lips, and it sent a shiver down my spine and heat straight to my core. He needed this and I needed him. And soon, before I exploded.

“Stake your claim on me, James,” I whispered. “Take me, make me yours. Please.” I took his hands and set them on my waist, where they’d been hours before. “Let me show you that I belong to you and only you.”

A low growl rumbled in Bucky’s chest, and his fingers tightened on my waist. He tugged me with ease into his lap, my legs straddling his, and though his eyes were dark when he looked up at me, they were also soft.

“Do you really want this?” he murmured quietly, and I reached up to take his face between my hands.

“I don’t think I’ve ever wanted anything more in my life.”

That was all the confirmation Bucky needed. He captured my lips in his and it was as if someone had tossed oil onto the already-blazing fire inside me. My hands drifted from his face to tangle in his hair, pulling myself closer to him as our mouths fought for dominance. As the kiss deepened, I wondered why I had gone so long without kissing him; it was like up until now I had been breathing through a filter, and now that his lips were on mine, he was breathing life into me in pure, unfiltered quantities until my head was spinning with the onslaught.

“Bucky,” I gasped, pulling away for oxygen. Bucky ducked his head to nuzzle it against my throat, peppering soft kisses along the delicate skin there. I tilted my head back to allow him better access, and the kisses became sloppier and open-mouthed as he made his way down to my breastbone.

“Promise I’m gonna make you feel so good, doll,” he murmured into my skin. “Gonna worship you like the goddess you are.”

His words had me trembling in his arms as a fresh wave of heat shot right to my core. I would have never pegged Bucky as the vocal type in bed, but the deep, husky timbre of his voice had me as aroused as his hands and lips did.

“Too many clothes,” I mumbled, my hands sliding underneath Bucky’s t-shirt so my fingertips could dance along the hard wall of muscle. His breath hitched, and then he was pulling the t-shirt over his head with one hand while the other hand yanked at the hem of my own t-shirt. I lifted my arms, and then we were both bare from the waist up. Bucky’s eyes darkened and his tongue darted out to wet his lips as his gaze landed on my breasts. In any other circumstance, I would have felt self-conscious under such scrutiny, but Bucky was regarding me with such rapt reverence that the way his eyes drank me in only added to the arousal between my thighs.

When his hands gripped the bare flesh of my waist electricity shot through me, and when his hot mouth enveloped one of my nipples and tugged it gently between his teeth my back arched into him and I let out an obscene moan.

Bucky’s mouth immediately released me, and he pulled back. His lips were set in a frown but his blue eyes sparkled with mischief. “As much as I love hearing those pretty little sounds spill from your lips,” he murmured, “you have to be quiet, doll, or this will be over before it even starts. Can’t have your parents knowing I’m about to ruin their little girl for every other man while under their roof.”

“Fuck, Bucky,” I groaned softly, aching to have some of the pressure between my thighs relieved.

“That’s the plan, doll,” he taunted. “You just gotta be patient.”

A wicked grin flashed across his face, and I huffed in annoyance.

“Dammit, Bucky, if you don’t touch me right now, I’m gonna have to take care of things myself.”

To my satisfaction, Bucky’s eyes widened in surprise. His jaw tightened and he licked his lips before his hands on my waist tightened. “As much as I’d like to see that,” he murmured, “I promised to take good care of you. And I intend to keep that promise.”

The next thing I knew I was flat on my back on the mattress and Bucky was yanking my pants and underwear down my legs and tossing them somewhere across the room, leaving me completely bare to him. He grinned up at me from between my legs and my breath caught in my throat. Looking as wrecked as I already felt, he was the most beautiful thing I had ever seen.

He began planting open-mouthed kisses on the insides of my thighs that quickly turned into biting and sucking. I knew there would be marks there come morning, but I would wear them proudly; a reminder that I was his and that he was about to give me the best night of my life.

When his mouth finally made its way to my aching heat, I had to bite my lip hard to keep from crying out. As his tongue swiped along my folds my hips bucked up into him and he chuckled against me as his arms wound around my hips to hold me firmly to the mattress.

“Easy, doll; awfully eager, aren’t you?” he teased, his voice languid as he skimmed his nose along my skin. My breaths were coming out short and shallow and I pressed my head back into the pillows, squeezing my eyes shut.

“Please, Buck,” I begged shamelessly. I could feel him grin against my thigh, and then his lips wrapped around my clit and sucked hard, and it took everything in me not to scream out his name as my back arched away from my mattress. My fingers tangled in Bucky’s hair, pulling him closer, and he growled into me. The vibrations, as well as the purely primal sound it made coming from deep in his throat, had me keening and dripping with need.

Bucky’s mouth worked over me like he was a man starved. The more his tongue and lips licked and sucked, the tighter the coil in my belly got as I writhed beneath him. When I finally reached my peak, my mouth fell open in a silent scream and my grip on Bucky’s hair tightened, nails scraping against his scalp. He brought me down from my high with gentle kisses, and then his arms loosened from around my hips so he could slide up my body and press his lips to mine. I could taste myself on his tongue.

“Jesus Christ…” I breathed, trying to recover after what he had just done to me. Bucky’s grin was sinful and his eyes sparkled.

“It’s Bucky, actually,” he said lightly. “Although if I still had my long hair, I could see how you could be mistaken.”

“Oh, shut up,” I grumbled, and then I was up and pushing him onto his back. He stared up at me with wide, startled eyes as I climbed on top of him, straddling his hips. I leaned in to kiss him hard, and then pulled away to kiss the hollow of his throat as my fingertips trailed down the hot skin of his torso. My lips soon followed, and then I was peppering kisses just above the low-hanging waistband of his sweatpants. The gray cotton material was tented, doing nothing to hide how aroused he was.

“What do we have here, soldier?” I said teasingly, fingers slowly peeling back the waistband. I peered up to see him watching me, hungry eyes unblinking as his chest rose and fell with shallow breaths. When his cock sprang free from its confines, I couldn’t help but lick my lips – Oh, this was going to be fun.

I took his length into my hand, revelling in the velvety-smooth, hot feel of it, solid and practically throbbing against my palm. I gave it a couple of experimental pumps and Bucky let out a soft groan.

“(Y/N)…”

“Quiet, soldier, remember?” I taunted. Bucky’s eyes flashed, and then with a wicked smirk I leaned in to lick a stripe up along his length. A low hiss passed through his clenched teeth, and when I took him as far into my mouth as I could I could see the muscle in his jaw twitch as his eyes blazed like blue fire.

“Fuck, baby girl, that feels so good,” he grunted out as my head bobbed up and down along his length. I hollowed out my cheeks and sucked hard, one hand wrapped around what I couldn’t fit in my mouth and the other on his thigh, nails digging into solid muscle. Bucky cursed under his breath, and then to my confusion his hand traced along my jaw before sliding under my chin to pull me away from him.

“What –” I started, but he cut me off.

“As amazing as that felt, doll, when I come I wanna be inside you.”

His words had me dripping with anticipation, and I let out a soft whimper as he pulled me up his body until I was once again straddling his hips. I shifted, sliding my soaked folds along his throbbing length and we both let out quiet groans. Unable to wait any longer, I reached behind me and took him in my hand, lining him up with my entrance.

Bucky’s hands on my hips tugged me down until he was fully sheathed in my wet heat. I fell forward, hands planted on his chest to support myself, and squeezed my eyes shut as I adjusted to how he stretched my walls in ways I’d never been stretched out before. I rolled my hips into his experimentally, and Bucky’s hands tightened on my flesh.

Using my hands on him as leverage, I began to rock myself against him, feeling the way his cock deliciously dragged against every square millimetre of my insides. We quickly fell into a rhythm, him thrusting up to meet me every time I slid down. My nails scratched jagged red lines into his chest as his fingers dug bruises into my hips, our breaths coming out ragged as we fought to keep any noises that could alert the rest of the household to our actions from spilling out of our lips.

It didn’t take long for the coil to once again tighten in my belly. Bucky’s thrusts were sharp and precise, hitting all the right spots, and his hands had begun to roam over my body, kneading the soft flesh of my curves.

“Buck, I’m…” I started, but was rendered breathless when all of a sudden Bucky had flipped us over so I was on my back and he was on top of me, his length still firmly sheathed in my heat. This position provided a new angle, and my legs wrapped around Bucky’s waist as he bent down to kiss me roughly.

“I’ve got you, baby girl,” he rasped, nuzzling his face into the juncture between my neck and shoulder as he drove into me relentlessly. My nails raked down his back, the other hand carding though his hair and holding him to me. I was close, so close, and he knew it. “It’s okay, doll, I’ve got you,” he murmured, pressing hot, open-mouthed kisses to my throat. “Let go, I’ll take care of you. Let go for me, baby girl.”

That did it. I could feel my walls fluttering around Bucky’s length as he drew my second orgasm of the night out of me. I couldn’t stop the quiet gasp that escaped my lips as the coil in me snapped, and my own climax must have brought on Bucky’s because I could feel him throbbing, hot and hard against my fluttering walls, and then his seed was coating my insides as he stilled over me with a muffled grunt.

Being the first to break out of the post-orgasm haze, Bucky lifted his head from my shoulder and gave me a soft, lingering kiss. I hummed contentedly, hugging him close to me, and he chuckled before scooping his arms around me and shifting our bodies so I was snuggled against him and the blankets were pulled around us.

“Well, you certainly made sure this would be a Christmas to remember,” Bucky murmured, brushing a damp lock of hair from my face. I giggled, and then turned my head to press my lips to his chest as my fingertips brushed along his abdomen.

“What can I say, I always keep good on my word.” I yawned, unable to fight off the exhaustion I felt. “You wore me out, soldier,” I mumbled, and a quiet laugh rumbled from his chest.

“Get some sleep, doll,” he murmured. “We’ve got a busy day ahead of us.”

I hugged myself closer to him. “You’ll stay with me?”

A soft kiss on the crown of my head, and arms circling protectively around me. “Wouldn’t dream of going anywhere, doll.”

I woke up early the next morning. The sun had barely begun to light up the sky, and snowflakes drifted lazily outside the window. Bucky was warm and solid behind me, and when I stretched out my body languidly his vibranium hand slid across my belly and down, parting my thighs to ghost feather-light touches over my still-sensitive sex.

“Merry Christmas, doll,” he murmured, lips against the delicate skin behind my ear as his cool fingers swept lightly through my already-gathering wetness. I let out a quiet whine and pressed back into him, his body fitting along the length of mine and his erection hard against my backside. I wiggled my hips teasingly and felt him twitch.

“Mmm, Merry Christmas,” I hummed, and then spread my legs further so he could slide into me. We made love, slow and sensual, as the snow fell outside and the sky lightened, and when we both came undone at the same time Bucky’s name fell from my lips in a whispered prayer. We stayed that way a couple of minutes, spooning and still joined together, until we agreed that everyone else would soon be getting up to open presents.

We already had coffee brewed by the time everyone else came downstairs. My dad donned his Santa hat and then we all gathered around the Christmas tree to open the gifts.

“To (Y/N), from James,” my dad said, handing me a box wrapped in shiny red paper with a green bow. I shot Bucky an inquiring look as I took the box from my dad but he only shrugged, a twinkle in his eyes as he drained the last of his coffee.

Curious, I carefully tore away the wrapping paper to reveal a copy of Sherlock Holmes, the cover cracked and the pages yellowed with age. I looked up at Bucky, eyes wide.

“Is this…?” I started to say, and he nodded, beaming.

“A first edition,” he finished, and then his smile turned sheepish. “I know how much you love books and you love antiques, and Wanda told me Sherlock Holmes was your favourite…”

“Bucky, it’s perfect,” I breathed sincerely, feeling tears in the corners of my eyes. “I love it. Thank you.”

Bucky seemed pleased with himself. “Anything for you, doll,” he murmured, and I blushed.

After all the gifts had been unwrapped and the floor was littered with wrapping paper and bows, everyone migrated to the fireplace to see what was in their stockings. I hung back, and grinned when Bucky’s eyes landed on the one labelled “Bucky” and he shot me a confused look.

“I didn’t hang a stocking,” he said, brow furrowed, and I shrugged.

“Just look inside.”

He did as I said, and when he pulled out an orange and a tin of chocolates the most brilliant smile lit up his face. His eyes were brimming with emotion as he lifted them to meet mine.

“(Y/N)…” he whispered, and then he was gathering me into his arms and hugging me tightly. When we pulled apart his eyes shone. “Thank you,” he said, “for everything. If it weren’t for you, I would still be alone at the compound and would have missed out on the best Christmas I’ve ever had.”

My heart swelled, and I reached up to cup his warm face in my hands, my thumbs tracing his cheekbones. “Guess you’ll just have to spend every Christmas here with me,” I told him, and he grinned.

“Sounds like a plan to me, doll.”

#bucky barnes reader #bucky barnes x reader #smut #christmas #bucky barnes #james buchanan barnes #bucky x reader #bucky reader smut #fluff #angst

81 notes · View notes

minyoongiest · 4 years

Text

Positions || KNJ (M)

• pairing: Namjoon x reader

• rating: MA/18+

• type/genre: smut, fluff, multichapter, idol!au, established relationship, nurse!reader/single mom!reader/stylist!reader

• word count: 5.7k

• summary: After a long day working at the hospital in Seoul, you’re ready to spend some alone time with your man, and since your daughter is staying with her aunt for the night, Namjoon has some ideas for how to work off the stress of your day.

• contains: explicit language, explicit sexual content, oral (both receiving, not simultaneously), vaginal sex, multiple sex positions, multiple orgasms, creampie

• note: a commission for K. Thank you so much! I loved doing this, and I hope you like it!

(translations are at the end)

|| ao3 ||

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As soon as I shut the door to my car, I let out a sigh of relief. I like my job. (I like more that it pays my bills.) But no matter how much I like it, being on my feet all day and trying to do a million things at once so patients are taken care of and the doctors and my supervisors are happy is exhausting. I am so glad to be off and that I don’t have another shift for forty-eight hours because I need a break.

Checking my face in the sun visor mirror, I’m pleased to find my eye makeup is still intact. I was pretty sure by this time I’d look like as haggard as I feel, but my eyeliner is still perfectly winged, and my mascara isn’t even smudged. Tilting the mirror, I turn my neck to check my hair. It’s in a tied back for function, but practicality doesn’t trump style. Not for me, which is why it’s sleek and straight rather than just haphazardly thrown into a ponytail.

“Time to go home and get out of these scrubs,” I murmur, starting my car.

My phone rings as I’m pulling out of the parking garage, and my heart flutters when I see his name on my car screen. I use the button on the steering wheel to answer.

“Hey, I’m just leaving the hospital.”

“Oh, good. Are you on your way to pick up my angel?”

“Actually, I have two days off, so my sister is picking her up and keeping her for the night.”

His angel is my daughter from a previous relationship. Her dad split before she was born, so it was just me and her until Namjoon and I randomly matched on Tinder. At first, I wasn’t actually sure it was really, truly him because Namjoon being Namjoon it seemed like it was definitely a hoax, but I agreed to meet up with him just to see, and what was supposed to be a hookup turned into a fancy dinner date followed by a casual lunch date and then drinks at his apartment after work which turned into a naked sleepover…

That sort of went on for a few months, in which I introduced him to my daughter through pictures and stories, and then they met in person, which was exciting and nerve-wracking for me, but she adores him, and he adores her. So on the night of our sixth month anniversary when he asked how I felt about us moving in with him, there wasn’t much for me to think about.

“Oh,” he says softly. “So, we’re alone for the night?”

“Yes.”

“And you don’t have to be up for work?”

“No.” I bite my lip as I stop at a red light and flip on my turn signal. “I do have to go get her before noon though, so I can’t be in bed all day.”

“That’s okay,” he answers quickly. “I have a schedule before that, so I’ll be up.”

“Are you still at the studio?”

“Yeah. I want to get a few more things recorded before I head home. Do you want me to pick up takeout on my way?”

“That would be great. I have some stuff to do around the house, and I had an email about a styling job I want to look into, so that works for me.”

“Okay. I’ll see you at home. Later, baby.”

“Bye.”

He hangs up, and my phone switches to a Spotify playlist. As I drive the last few miles, I do a mental rundown of the things I need to get done before he gets home. In addition to looking into the styling contract, I want to get the dishes in the sink washed first and then cut up the fresh fruit in the fridge for my girl’s lunches next week, and if I have time go ahead and fold some of the clean laundry sitting in the basket in the laundry room.

The actual first thing I do when I walk into the apartment is take off my scrubs and hop into she shower to wash off my day, literally, since I work in healthcare. When I get out, I pull on a pair of sweatpants and a tank top before I go to the kitchen to start loading the dishwasher. While it’s running, I do the fruit which isn’t my favorite thing to do since it gets boring, but it’s so much easier to pack lunches when the fruit is done and ready to grab from the fridge.

Finally, I settle down on the couch with a glass of champagne and my computer to go over the details of the styling job. Since I already knew it would require the most of my time I have before Namjoon gets home, I saved it for last. After I skim the entire email, I take another sip of my drink before setting my glass aside and scrolling back up to the details that pique my interest—what designers their looking for, what the concept of the style is, and how soon they need it done. If those things work for me, the next thing I’ll look at is compensation, but I have to be interested enough to want the job first.

“Gucci…Balenciaga…Dior…” I mutter to myself as I make notes in a separate window on my computer.

As I look slowly through the email again, I’m thinking of what connections I have with which designers and if I can put something together. Before I had my kid and went back to school to be a nurse to support her, this is what I did. During that time, I met a lot of people in the industry, so I know someone pretty much everywhere.

“Oh, if that’s the concept…” I close my eyes for a second to picture different pieces from different collections.

“Dior.”

As soon as I say it, my phone starts to ring, making me jump. I see my daughter’s face on the screen and realize how late it is. She must be going to bed.

“Hey babe,” I answer, closing my laptop and setting it aside.

“Hi, Mommy.”

“Are you having fun at your sleepover?”

“Yes, Mommy. We made cookies and then we went outside and then we had pizza and played games and then we watched Rapunzel and had ice cream.”

“Wow. That’s a lot of things.”

And a lot of sugar. I’m not mad at my sister. She can spoil her if she wants. I’m just surprised she’d do that to herself knowing my kid is going to be bouncing off the walls until she crashes.

“Mommy, when are you coming to get me?”

I sigh and ignore the way my heart gets all soft. “Tomorrow at lunch time.”

“Okay, Mommy…” I can hear her frown, and I hate it.

“Do you have your pillow?” I stand and start to check her bedroom. If she doesn’t have it, she won’t sleep, and as much as I want a night to myself, I also need my kid to sleep.

“Yes, Mommy, and my pajamas.”

“Oh good.”

I start to ask her another question when I hear the door open, and I turn to look as Namjoon comes in holding a paper sack with our takeout order.

“Hey, baby,” he says quietly, his stupidly pretty face splitting into a grin.

Fuck. Those damn dimples. I can’t.

I see his eyes go to the phone in my hand before he asks, “Who are you talking to?”

“JOONIE!”

I jerk the phone away from my ear as my daughter shrieks into it.

“Oh, let me talk to her,” he says as he rushes to put the food down on the bar top and hurries over to me.

I hand him the phone and watch as he lifts it to his ear.

“How’s my angel tonight?” he asks gently, sitting down on the arm of the couch. “Oh really? … Well that’s good. Did you have fun at school?”

I press my lips together as I wander over to the food and start pulling things out of the bag.

“Well, maybe Monday it’ll be easier,” he says quietly. “Okay?”

He laughs softly, and I can’t help but look over at him. God, he really loves my baby.

“Goodnight, angel,” he whispers. “Do you want to tell your mom goodnight? … Okay, I’ll tell her.”

He hangs up, and I pretend I wasn’t spying as I set out the rest of the food.

“She said she misses you,” his low voice rumbles into my ear as he comes up behind me, his arm sliding around my waist.

“She’ll be okay.”

“She also told me to kiss you goodnight for her,” he says softer.

“Oh yeah?” I tilt my head back to look at him.

“Mmhmm.” He leans down a few inches and his lips brush mine, a pleasant shiver running down my spine.

Damn those soft lips. Why do they feel so good?

“I don’t think that’s the goodnight kiss she meant,” I whisper.

“Oh, you want another one?”

He smirks and leans down to kiss my cheek, his arms squeezing tight around my stomach.

“Quit. Quit!” I pull away. “We need to eat still.”

“Hmm. Okay, but I’m coming back to this later.”

“Sounds good to me,” I mumble as he walks around the counter to the fridge where he grabs a beer.

“What do you want to drink?” He glances over his shoulder at me.

I sort of finished the champagne already, so I shrug and say, “I’ll have what you’re having.”

“Cool. Do you want your own or some of mine?”

“Some of yours is fine.”

He nods, and I wait for him to grab his food and head to the couch before I follow him, setting mine on the coffee table while I get comfortable before I reach for it again.

Namjoon talks to me while he eats. About anything. About everything. He tells me about work (at least vaguely), about what memes the members are talking about in the group chat, about changing his hair color… Aside from the occasional comment, I eat and listen to him. I could say more, but just listening to him talk makes me happy.

When we’re finished, he gathers up our trash and then decides to take the bag out because it’s too full to close the trash can. While he’s gone, I go to empty the dishwasher. I mean, normally, I would leave it especially since we’re alone for the night which is rare and usually means something very naughty and very fun is going to happen, but the cabinet has literally no plates or cups in it, and I don’t want to forget and have to rush to do them later. Plus, I have a bunch of nervous energy, and I need to do something until he gets back.

The top rack is empty and I’m halfway through the bottom rack when Joon comes into the kitchen.

“I figured you’d be in the bedroom,” he says in a low tone.

“I was killing time.” I shrug. “And now that I started I might as well finish.”

“Let me help you.”

He reaches down and grabs the rest of the plates and moves behind me, reaching over my head toward the cabinet, so close his chest touches my back.

Which is when I feel it.

Feel him.

Thick and hard and pressed against my ass.

I suck in a breath and bite my lip.

“Baby, you okay?”

“Fuck the dishes,” I whisper.

“What?”

Turning around carefully, still pinned between him and the counter, I look up at him, while at the same time sliding my hand down between us, cupping his firm bulge.

He winces, and I see his eyes flash.

“I want this,” I murmur as I give it the faintest squeeze.

He grits his teeth and grabs onto the counter next to my hip.

“Shit,” he mutters.

I start to ask what that means when suddenly he grabs my waist and lifts me onto the counter.

“What are you doing?” I whisper.

“You started this,” he says roughly as his eyes darken with arousal and he steps between my thighs, reaching for the waistband of my pants.

“Wait, right now?” My voice gets higher, and I bite my lip.

“I’m starting right now.”

I don’t get to ask what that means because his hands start pulling on my sweats and I almost slide off the counter before I reach back and push up on my wrists so they’ll slide off.

My panties go with them.

Oh God. My bare ass is on my kitchen counter. And Namjoon is between my knees. Cool air glides over my exposed pussy and I bite my lip, fighting a whimper.

“Mmm.” Namjoon’s eyes travel over me, landing on the now-pulsing place between my thighs.

Instinctively, I try to close my legs, but his hips are in the way.

“Don’t hide from me,” he says softly, his fingers trailing over my skin, from my knee toward my hip, along my inner thigh. I stop breathing as the edge of his fingertip traces the outside of my lower lips.

He leans closer, bending so his face is right there. My hands grip the edge of the counter tightly as a rush of wet saturates between my legs.

“I think I want dessert now,” Namjoon says softly as he straightens.

“What?” I blink.

I—He just—I thought we were going to—

All of the sudden he drops to his knees, and my spine goes rigid. He moves closer to the counter, his large hands on my legs, his eyes on my pussy. He pauses, and my eyelids flutter closed. I try not to moan as he exhales, a warm stream of air hitting directly against wet slit.

“Joon…” I swallow. “What are you–”

“Eating,” he rumbles, his mouth brushing against me as he says it.

My back arches instantly as his tongue dips in between my lips and runs the length of me.

“Namjoon,” I gasp as his large hands slide under my thighs, lifting them, pulling them apart as he tilts his head and plants a gentle kiss right there.

He kisses again. Harder.

And then he starts sucking.

First on one side. Then the other. And slowly from the front to the back. My back arches, forcing me further into his mouth, and I moan loudly. Without missing a beat, he tilts his head and sucks deep, his tongue darting out again, teasing me. I swear under my breath and one of my hands slides down into his hair.

His eyes lift to mine, and I feel the heat of them where his thumbs are slowly pulling me open. He smirks, and I feel it in my nipples, which tighten painfully right before he lowers his head again, his soft lips rubbing over my throbbing ones before the flat of his tongue laps them, the tip flicking across my clit.

“Son of a bitch,” I whisper.

He laughs against me, and I swear I almost come. Except he stops.

“Namjoon, what are you waiting–”

I choke on my question when he suddenly sucks hard, his teeth grazing my lips before his fingers pull me open and he tongue drives inside.

I swallow a scream as my head flies back as he fucks me with his mouth. Sucking and licking and his tongue moving in and out of me. He quickly adds two of his long ass fingers, which only makes me crazier. My hand on the edge of the counter is holding on so tight it might be cutting into my palm. The other is fisting his hair, my thighs clamped around his face as he devours me.

He grunts against me, and I whimper at the sensation. I’m so close I could cry.

“Joon,” I plead softly. “I want… I want to–”

One of his thumbs rolls over my swollen clit at the same time his tongue and fingers thrust deep. I come instantly, exploding in his mouth as I fall back on my elbows, moaning his name. His hands move to my ass, pulling it off the edge of the counter and against his face as he continues to suck and lick my wildly spasming pussy. When I come down, his tongue runs along my slit one last time before he puts my bare ass back on the counter and climbs to his feet.

“I can’t feel my legs,” I whisper as he rests his hand by my hip, leaning in to kiss me.

“Mmm.” He smirks against my mouth, and I realize I can taste myself on his lips.

I get wet instantly at the thought, and reach up to put my hands on his shoulders.

“I guess that means you’ll have to carry me to the bedroom,” I murmur.

He makes a low growling sound as his large hands yank my hips against his, my trembling legs instantly locking around his ass, as he lifts me off the counter and starts down the hall. My lips land on his neck (because how can I resist?), and I suck gently as my hands slide over his massive pecs down over his abs, toward his—

“Ah!” I gasp as my back hits the wall.

“You just came in my mouth,” he grunts into my ear as my hands pull at his belt. “And you’re still this horny?”

I can’t answer because his lips land on mine, pushing my head back against the wall, distracting me completely from unbuttoning his pants. I nip at his plump lower lip, and he grunts, taking control of the kiss. My lips part in surprise, and I whimper as his tongue slides over mine. My arm curls around the side of his neck, one of my hands driving into his messy hair. His fingers dig into my ass as he tilts his head to deepen the kiss even more.

He presses forward, pinning me completely to the wall, before his hands let me go. I let out a small scream, tearing my mouth from his, my hands going to his shoulders to keep from falling.

“Namjoon, what are you doing now?”

“Clothes,” he curses.

His fingers curl into the hem of my top, and I jerk as he yanks it over my head, leaving me completely naked.

“Better,” he whispers, his eyes traveling over my exposed skin with awe.

“The bedroom is so close,” I remind him, looping my arms around his neck and teasing the curve of his ear with my tongue.

He grunts and his hands return to my ass, lifting me higher, causing my boobs to bounce. I moan softly when my nipple grazes his lips.

“Bedroom,” he says softly.

“Yeah,” I tilt my head down and kiss the side of his jaw. “The faster the better.”

His soft lips press against my neck, and I quit breathing for a second as he moves us out of the living area. My eyes flutter closed as he begins sucking on my skin. Gently at first and then harder. My hand moves down again, over his chest and abs, zeroing in on his fly. I’m already naked, so my first priority is to even the playing field.

I get his zipper down and his teeth sink into my neck in surprise when my fingers brush against the feverish lump behind it.

“Shit,” he groans. “Let me get to the bed first,” he grunts. “If you keep that up, I’ll drop you.”

“Don’t you dare.”

I try to sound threatening, but it’s hard when his fingers are clenching at my bare ass, holding me tight to his hips, the bulge of his erection grazing against me. Instead it sounds weak and desperate. Which is exactly how I feel right now.

“Mm.”

He moves faster, his lips abandoning my neck as he pushes into the bedroom and throws me on the bed. A small cry leaves my throat, and I whirl around on all fours to look at him.

“What the hell, Namjoon?”

“’Bouta come in my pants,” he swears softly, reaching over his head to pull his shirt off with one hand.

“What?” I blink.

“Nothing,” he says as he swallows, tossing the shirt aside. “Come here.”

He stalks toward the bed, and I scrambled backward.

“Hey, whoa, slow down.”

“Slow down?” He stops at the edge of the mattress and raises a single eyebrow.

A jolt goes through my pussy, and I feel hot all over.

“You were all about going fast two seconds ago,” he says in a low tone.

“Well, yes, but you’re being really…”

“Horny?”

“Aggressive,” I whisper.

Fuck. It’s so hot.

Both his eyebrows rise, and I bite my lip.

“You want me to stop?”

“N-no…” I slide off my side of the bed and walk around the foot.

His eyes follow me, and then his body as he turns to face me when I stop in front of him.

“What are you doing?” He frowns in confusion.

“I just was thinking…” I reach down and unto the button of his pants. “You got dessert on the kitchen counter…”

A throb hits between my legs as I say it, and I clench my thighs together.

“Yeah, so?”

“Well, what about me?” I look up at him as I edge my fingers into the waistband of his pants. “I don’t get some?”

He opens his mouth and I slide my hands into his underwear, my fingertips instantly finding burning, turgid skin.

“Fuck,” he groans, his hands reaching out to grab my wrists. “Hold on.”

“I want to blow you,” I whisper.

“I guessed that.”

His face twists in pain, and for a second, I almost feel guilty.

“Let me sit down first.”

I pull my hands out and wait while he shoves his pants down and off and reaches for his underwear.

“I want to do that,” I pipe up, putting my hand on his shoulder.

“Oh?” His eyes flick up to mine, and I gently push his torso, urging him to sit.

His fine ass lowers to the mattress, and I slide my hands down his chest and abs and over his thighs as I get on my knees in front of him.

I reach for the band of his underwear and tug, squirming as his mammoth cock springs free. He hisses and his hand on the bed fists the sheets.

The longer I look at it the wetter I get. It’s not just big, it’s angry. Red with veins everywhere, the thickest one running up the underside. I swear I can see it throbbing. The head is visibly swollen with precum glistening at the slit. I’m a little surprised his zipper didn’t bust open trying to contain it.

I reach out to touch it, and he tenses.

“I’m not going to bite it,” I mumble.

He makes a low sound, and I put one hand on his thigh as I reach out with my other one and run my fingers from top to bottom.

God, it’s on fire.

The heat of it shoots straight from my fingertips to the aching spot between my legs.

“Ppalli-ga,” he grunts, and I know I have to move faster.

From how hard he is, I can tell he’s already close. It won’t take much for him to blow.

Moving closer, I bend my head and lick up one side. One of his hands lands on my head, and I immediately repeat the motion. His grip tightens, and I begin licking everywhere. It doesn’t take long before he’s ready. (Not to mention he’s leaking precum like crazy.) When I’m done licking him, I sit back to catch my breath.

Fuck, it’s thick. I always forget how sore my jaw is after I blow him. Probably because I enjoy it so much that I don’t care.

“Goddammit, baby, suck me,” he groans, and I look up to see his head thrown back and the veins in his neck popping.

Wetness floods between my legs, and I gasp, gripping his thigh tighter.

His hips come off the bed, and I jerk back to avoid being smacked in the face with his dick.

“Okay,” I murmur. “I’m starting.”

He nods, or rather, jerks his chin forward, and I lower head, the bulbous tip sliding between my lips.

“Oh my God,” he groans.

I suck slowly at first and then harder as I move up and down. I use my fingers to toy with his balls and to tease the base until I’m ready to take all of it.

I hold my breath as I tilt my head and open my mouth as wide as I can, forcing his massive length between my lips. My jaw pops, and I wince.

His fingers slide into my hair and grip tight as I start to slide up and all the way down again.

“What are you doing?” he grunts suddenly. “Stop. Stop.”

I do but only because he sounds worried.

“I want to do this,” I tell him instantly. “Don’t make me stop now.”

“I’m hurting you. I can feel it,” he murmurs, letting me go.

“Well stop feeling it.” I frown at him, straightening my spine. “All you should feel is orgasmic.”

“Baby–”

“Let me deep throat you, Namjoon. I want to make you feel good.”

He sighs, and I lick the tip of his cock again.

“It does feel good, doesn’t it?”

“Yeah,” he mutters. “It feels fucking amazing.”

“Then don’t stop me, okay?”

“Fine.” He leans back, presenting his big dick to me again. “Go ahead.”

Before he even has the whole word out, I have him in my mouth again. I have to figure out my breathing as I go, making sure to suck deep and not graze him with my teeth. I move faster and suck harder with every entrance, ignoring the way his tip feels ramming into the back of my throat.

He starts swearing softly. And then louder. And then all at once in a mixture of Korean and English. His hand goes back to my hair and holds tight as his hips start bucking into me.

He’s going to come soon. I’m certain of it. Bracing for his load, I continue to suck and lick at his thrusting cock.

Suddenly he pulls out, practically standing as he fists my hair and holds my head still where I can’t get my mouth on him.

“I’m gonna come,” he gasps, his raspy voice sending small vibrations through my whole body.

“Okay, so?” I ask hoarsely. “Let me swallow it.”

“Don’t wanna wait to get hard again,” he explains gruffly. “I want to come inside you but not in your mouth.”

“You have a long refractory period,” I remind him. “You could still fuck me even after I suck you dry.”

“Not this time,” he shakes his head, the veins in his neck still popping. “I’ve been thinking about this all day, and I have things I want to do before I come.”

“Can you last that long?” I ask softly, my eyebrows rising as I glance back at his swollen, wet cock.

I’ve gotten him off enough to know he’s at his absolute limit right now.

“I just need a minute to come down a little,” he says breathlessly. “Then I can keep going.”

“Mmm…okay.”

“Get up on the bed.”

I climb off of my knees slowly, ignoring the tiny bursts of pain in my knees as I crawl onto the mattress. He stands next to the bed, and I watch him inhale and exhale slowly as he regains control over his urge to come.

“Namjoon, if you need to finish, I can–”

“I got it,” he interrupts gruffly. “Lie down on you back for me.”

I blink as he starts to climb on the bed.

“Now, baby. Spread your legs.”

He’s still close, I realize, but he wants to do this anyway, that’s why he’s in such a hurry.

Quickly moving up the bed, I turn onto my back with my head in the pillows like he said. Before I can breathe, he’s on top of me, his giant pecs in my face, his fucking huge biceps on either side of my head.

“You ready for me?” he grunts softly, his fingers dragging through the wet between my legs even as he asks it.

I gasp instead of answering.

“Mm.” He nods, biting his lip. “That’s a yes.”

“Joon…”

“This is going to be rough,” he says quietly. “Can you handle that?”

“Yeah. I can handle—ah!”

My words dissolve into a sharp cry as he suddenly drives into me. My legs lock tight around his hips as I feel it—the fat tip, the thick shaft, his balls against my lips. All of it hot and pulsing and stretching me wide. My pussy squeezes around it, and I hiss his name like a swear word as my back bows off the bed.

“Fuck, your pussy is a miracle,” he groans.

“You’re so thick,” I moan at him. “A little warning next–”

He moves again. Pulling out and thrusting back in. I choke on my sentence and grab onto his broad shoulders. He keeps going, fast, rough just like he said, pounding into me. One of his hands slides around my thigh under my ass to hold me steady. His other slides inside to the front of my slit, his large thumb zeroing in on my clit which he begins rubbing furiously.

“Namjoon!”

I don’t even feel it building before I’m coming as he continues to growl and jerk against me. I’m not done when he pulls out.

“Wha-what are you–”

“Next position,” he gasps as he grabs my legs and flips me onto my belly.

“I’m still coming, Joon. Wait–”

He doesn’t. Instead, he hooks an arm under my hips and pulls them up, forcing my knees open with his own before he puts a hand on my back and gently pushes my cheek into the pillows.

“Oh God,” I whisper.

His other hand rests on my ass squeezing lightly before I feel him pushing into me again.

“Oh God!”

He slams back into my still-coming pussy, and I whimper into the pillow. It feels so good and so deep—even deeper than before.

“You okay?” he leans over me, his hand coming up to cup my breast. “Too much?”

“Don’t stop,” I murmur. “It’s too good.”

I hear him laugh in surprise, and I feel it in my nipples, which he’s doing a fabulous job toying with. Suddenly, he grabs my whole boob in his hand and starts rutting into me. My knees spread wider on their own and I grab onto the pillow with both hands, my mouth parted in a silent moan.

“Baby?”

“I’m coming,” I hiss. “Again. Harder this time.”

I squeal when he sits up suddenly taking me with him. I’m still full of him, straddling his thighs, which are resting on his heels as he continues to jerk into me, his hands on my chest holding me to him. I grab his wrists with both my hands without thinking. My head falls back on his shoulder, and I press my lips to his neck. My body feels exhausted and overstimulated and like I’ll never stop orgasming.

He grunts sharply, and I feel his hips tense.

“Come with me,” he whispers, his lips landing on my shoulder.

“I can’t,” I choke.

Or I am. I can’t even tell now.

“Just one more,” he bites out. “Now. Now!”

He drives up into me as he comes. My walls spasm at the hot fluid spurting inside me, and I gasp as I another orgasm hits below my belly, racing up my spine, down my aching legs and up into my nipples. He buries his face in my shoulder, and I struggle to catch my breath as I finally come down. He’s still coming even after I’m finished, probably because he kept bringing himself so close to an orgasm only to delay it again and again. When he finally relaxes, he lifts me off of him slowly, and I lie down on my stomach in the bed next to him.

“I need to clean up,” he says gruffly. “Clean you up too.”

I nod because I’m so exhausted I’m not sure I can speak. When he comes back with a rag, I roll onto my side and wince at the ache in my legs.

“What?” He frowns instantly. “Did I hurt you? I was too rough, wasn’t I? Fuck.”

“No.” I shake my head at him. “I really liked that.”

“Oh…” He blinks. “You did?”

“I came like four times or something,” I remind him. “I definitely liked it.”

“Well…good.”

He runs the rag between my legs and over my thighs, and when he walks away, I grab his pillow and pull it under my cheek.

“Are you going to sleep now?” he asks softly when he comes back.

“Mmm. I don’t know,” I whisper. “I could. You wore me out.”

“I was hoping to watch a little TV first.”

“Okay,” I mumble, “but body is a puddle, so, if we’re going to cuddle, you’re going to have to pick me up.”

He yanks on some sweat pants and climbs in bed beside me.

“I can read if you want to just go to sleep now,” he says quietly.

“Mm.”

“You have to sit up though while I put this shirt on you.”

“Why?” I yawn. “I can sleep naked.”

He clears his throat, and I watch his eyes skim over my body.

“Trust me,” he says hoarsely, “you need to put on this shirt.”

I bite my lip as he reaches over to help me into the oversized FG shirt. I collapse into his pillow again as soon as it’s on, the warm, soft fabric that smells like him making me even sleepier.

“Goodnight, baby,” he murmurs as he reaches over me to grab his book off the nightstand.

“Goodnight, Namjoon.”

My eyes flutter closed as I feel his soft lips press against my temple, and then I fall into a blissful, post-orgasmic sleep.

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

Translations:

Ppalli-ga - go fast

#networkbangtan #bangtanarmynet #hyunglinenetwork #bangtanhq #btswriterscollective #btsguild #houseofddaeng #namjoon x reader #rm x reader #bts fanfiction #my fic #bts fic #namjoon fic #bangtan fanfiction #namjoon fanfiction #my comms

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idk-maybe-i-did-it · 3 years

Text

Scars: Year five, Chapter six

Remus Lupin x Reader

Warnings: Implied eating disorder, swearing, violence, alcoholics,

James Potter

Sirius Black

Remus Lupin

Peter Pettigrew

James Potter

Sirius Black

Remus Lupin

Peter Pettigrew

James Potter

Sirius Black

Remus Lupin

Peter Pettigrew

Did you stay for the end?

Or are you just waiting for a beginning?

Because without her, the boys fear they'll never get either. ________________________________

Lily told me to get a journal to write in.

So here we go.

Dear Diary,

Wait am I allowed to call you Y/n?

I think I would prefer that better, let me restart.

Dear Y/n,

I miss you.

I also punched James earlier.

I'm not sorry.

I can just hear you scolding me about it and I can see you asking James what he did.

I know he didn't mean to knock you out, I just... I can't help it Y/n.

It hurts too much to do anything now and now that you're in a coma I can't get my daily dose of Y/n wonderfullness. I know that that isn't a real word but I don't care.

Goodbye for now my love, Please wake up tomorrow. ________________________________

" You comin Remus?"

James leaned out of the door and looked at the boy still sitting on the windows ledge.

" Not today James... I'm not hungry."

The boy signed and moved over to where he sat, squatting next him.

" Remus you haven't eaten in three days. Y/n wouldn't want this, she would want to see you happy and with food in your stomach. Come on Re, just one meal, for Y/n at least?" _______________________________

Good morning darling,

Don't ask about the name, I'm just trying something's out for when you wake up.

Anyway, I still miss you. I miss you every waking second of the day and I miss you like the sun misses the moon at day-rise.

Sirius says I need to eat more but I think I'm fine.

I got mad at Malfoy earlier and broke his nose.

James covered for me and punched him so it would look like he did it. I'm still not sorry for punching him last week by the way if you're wondering.

Transfiguration was nice. I mean, McGonagall accidentally said your name in class when assigning partners and I had to be excused when I started to cry.

Lily's been helping me with classes and homework recently because I can't focus in class anymore without you here. Kayla actually came to our dorm earlier this week too and dropped off your trunk and other stuff. I put it all by my stuff at the end of the bed.

Sorry Love, I have to go, James just came in.

Goodbye Y/n, Wake up soon. _______________________________

Hello angel,

I know I just put an insert to this yesterday but I had something else to tell you today.

Earlier Sirius went out to do a detention and It was just James and Peter and Me in the dorm. Peter wanted me to see something outside so we went and sat on the window ledge outside of our window where Sirius goes to smoke at night.

Do you remember when we used to sit there and watch the sun go down while I held you in my arms?

Well Peter wanted to watch the sunset and I ended up crying while James and Pete sat beside me and hugged me.

James said that it's important to remember that I need to wait out for you.

I'm really starting to miss you Y/n.

Sirius says that I shouldn't be worried because he knows you're a stubborn ass who always comes back but I'm starting to doubt that.

Please come back love, I miss you ________________________________

" Remus can you put down the book for a moment?"

" Lily you're the one who told me to start it-'

" I know that Remus and you're a lot better now because of it but you also never put it down." ________________________________

Lily says I spend too much time writing to you because I write in class too sometimes.

I've only written about a third of the journal so far and it's been two weeks since you, y'know... but I think that it doesn't matter because I feel like I can talk to you all the time in here. Like I used to be able to talk to you all the time...

Of course I don't do this during my prefect rounds but I wish I could.

Goodbye button I love you, But please wake up soon. ________________________________

" Moony we won!"

" We bloody won Remus! We won!" ________________________________

Sirius and James won the Quidditch cup yesterday and made me go to the party.

I'm so sorry love.

I'm sorry...

I know you wouldn't've wanted me to drink but I did... I drank a lot.

I realized what I was doing about an hour in and went upstairs to take a shower and cry.

I really am sorry love, you hate alcohol.

I ended up wearing the last sweater of mine you wore afterwards. It still smelt like you y'know.

And I finished all my homework so I could tell you about what happened last night.

Anyway, I love you.

I want to press kisses all over your face, I wanna kiss your nose and your temple and I wanna kiss your forehead and I want to kiss your jawline again and I just wanna be able to kiss your lips again love.

Goodnight baby, Wake up soon please. _______________________________

" Come on Remus you gotta go see her. You haven't even visited the hospital wing since what happened."

" Peter I said no. How many times do I have to say it?" ______________________________

Peter got me to visit you today.

He didn't even seem affected when I cried with my head on your stomach. He just grabbed my hand and stayed with me.

I'm really glad he made me go visit you. It made me happier.

I also really miss laying in bed with you, my head on your lap or stomach or chest while you just hummed and kissed my forehead and hands and anywhere you could reach.

I Really miss those days. _____________________________

Hey Y/n!

This is Sirius, James made him start eating his lunch but he wouldn't unless one of us talked to you so here I am. When you wake up you better beat your boyfriends arse because he hasn't been eating much and he looks like he did in third year again and I know you wouldn't like that.

Speaking of your boyfriend, Remus recently got an owl telling him your mum and aunt died so we don't know who you're staying with when you wake up but I think Mrs. Potter has her hands full with both me and James so you'll probably stay with Remus.

Wait I have to give the book back to Remus. Bye sis, Love ya. _______________________________

Hi Y/n,

Your finger twitched today, I almost got my hopes up but Pomfrey said that was usual.

She made me leave to pack my things for the train tomorrow.

I won't be able to visit you over summer break and I don't think I'll be able to tell Mare and Ky and Jamal and Mum and Dad what happened to you.

Speaking of Mare, her and her girlfriend are engaged now. No actually her girlfriend is a boy now. James's parents are going to help fund the wedding whenever it comes. I love you, Please wake up before I come back to school. _______________________________

Today at home Mare was getting me to help pick the seating arrangements and she wrote your name next to mine in the first row.

That was the first time I ever cried in front of her and she didn't know what was wrong so I had to tell her what happened.

Will you wake up soon enough to go with me?

I love you Kitten, Come back to me Y/n. _______________________________

I have to babysit Ky and Jamal later tonight. Maybe I can write something new later Afterwards love. Anyways, I've a new book, Rising Stars is what it's called. Mare Recommended it to me yesterday. I think You're gonna steal it from me when wake up.

Mare's been making me eat more food. Everyone says I should eat more.

But Mare says I look more like myself now.

Love, Remus _______________________________

" Remus can we make cookies?"

The boy's head lolled back onto the couch's frame and Jamal stood on his thighs trying to get him up.

" Pretty please big brother dearest?"

The boy lifted his leg and swiftly sat up, lightly moving the children off of his body as he made to move towards his bedroom.

" Alright, the eight-year old's have it! Just let me get the book-

His sentence cut short at the sight before him.

There, standing outside the screen door of the kitchen, was Y/n.

The woman stood standing, hand in her pocket, arm in a position to knock on the door when she froze and saw Remus standing like a deer in headlights looking at her.

She looked full again.

She looked like Y/n again.

Remus was still staring at her when the two children came and mad ran out from behind him, peeking behind his figure to see who had been outside. Once Jamal and the other saw the girls face they ran for the door and pulled it open, grasping onto her fingers to pull her inside the house they were so exited.

Remus still stood there.

Shocked.

And yet he still stood and watched as she smiled and laughed with the two kids as they pulled her over to where he stood.

He watched as she sneakily slipped her arms under Ky's and pulled him upwards, sitting the kid on her hip as the boy started to mess with her hair.

Remus watched as she looked up at him with a wide grin that showed all her pearly-white teeth and he watched as she walked the last foot keeping them apart and grasped his jaw, pulling him into a kiss.

It took his body a moment to react before he was pulling the girl flush against him and kissing her full force, needing to feel her body, to feel proof that she was back. Just needing to feel her.

He could feel her hands move up to the collar of his shirt and he could feel her smile against his lips, breaking the kiss if only for a moment. His arms rested on the outline of her coat as he pulled it closer to his body, in turn pulling her.

Then he went back to kissing her full force again, his arms wrapped around her waist as he dipped her backwards and grinned.

" Gross."

Their heads snapped back to where Jamal and Ky stood, their noses scrunched up in disgust. Until they saw the smile on Remus's face.

They hadn't seen him smile like that in forever.

So when he went back to pull her into another kiss and when he started to pepper her face in kisses they simply looked away, not ruining the moment and intent on keeping that smile on his lips.

Remus reached behind Y/n and grasped the bag in her arm, grasping her wrist in the process and pulling her along with him to the bedroom.

" Are we still getting our cookies?"

" Yeah!" ________________________________

D'ya still hate me? 😀

Anyway- Nice reunion scene in my opinion.

I know it's not long but if you complain then I will legit show you how many fucks I give, Oh wait, I don't have any. _____________________________ Drop a vote, drink some water, eat some food, take screen breaks and remember You Are Loved! ^ - ^

#remus lupin x reader #remuslupin #siriusblack #jamespotter #peter pettigrew #remus lupin #remus lupin smut #harrypotter #lilyevans #lilypotter #hogwarts #hogwarts school of witchcraft and wizardry #siriusxremus

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klarastjarnljus · 3 years

Text

So much of normal season prep was lost this year that the most important decision I've made was to not stress or worry about missed musts or missed opportunities. Tradition-wise, christmas cleaning is to be done either (family) before first of Advent or (old tradition calendar) starts 20/12.

We put up advent decorations even though it was still messy and kept tidying little by little.

Christmas laundry should be done on the 2/12, but since I chose just one tablecloth and the christmas curtains has stayed up for years, and I have no christmas rugs or bedclothes to change to, etc, focus has been on eliminating the laundry before my winter break is over.

Anyway, holiday atmosphere settled, school break started and solstice rolled around. Usually, I bake saffron buns for Lucia day (13/12), and make sun bread from the same dough, to eat on solstice after singing a song about the longing for the sun's return. This year, I spent Lucia day at work without any celebrations, and had spiced wine and gingerbread in the evening.

This year on solstice I sang to myself on the couch, caught in a grey bubble of not feeling like much, with spiced wine, and thought of my friends.

A tradition my husband and I have kept to for almost two decades, is watching Nightmare Before Christmas before christmas, and we did it this year as well.

After a week in quarantine, I was able to spend Christmas Eve (that's the big day to celebrate here) with my parents. My husband wasn't well so he stayed at home with the cats.

My mother makes most food for christmas, herself, but I chip in by baking something sweet. My mom makes pickled herring of different flavours, she bakes spiced bread, meatballs, cook brussel sprouts from her garden and prepare the ham. The broth from boiling the ham is often salty and spiced and used for dipping bread in.

For dessert, she makes risalamand. That's rice porridge with whipped cream and diced orange, and I cannot by any physical law eat too much of it.

For after dinner coffee, I had made chocolate peppermint cookies especially for the occasion. Baking is both a family tradition and a passion of mine, and chocolate peppermint is one of my very fondest childhood christmas flavors.

I also baked butterscotch cookies, but I didn't get any good pics of them.

The process of mixing, kneading and shaping is always a ritual for me, especially when baking for a person or an occasion. The physical work transfers love and purpose.

As the days grow longer, I miss 2nd day and 13th day dinners at my Grandma's. She sent pics of her living room and of herself with a present ribbon as a headband, so silly and cute that it hurts me not to be able to be near her.

Tomorrow I will make what I'd really liked to choose for this post, so you'll get another post a day too late.

For new year's eve every year, in my family we make egg cheese, an old traditional Swedish westcoast dish that's made by heating and curdling a mix of egg and milk, collecting the curds in a cheese mold and letting it drain and set overnight. The result is a soft, almost pudding-like, cheese, with a fresh, neutral taste.

Some eat it as-is with herring, but we prefer to sweeten the curd and eat it with berries or jam.

The recipe I have is the one my mother taught me, that she learned when she was young. My aunt's husband has another recipe that he swears by, and my paternal grandmother yet another one. The recipes were dearly kept secrets back in the day, and in some places still are. Contests between households in the Bohus peninsula were taken very seriously, and disputes about who makes the best egg cheese could go on for years.

This is probably the tradition I value the most, as it's deeply personal and also signifies the returning sun, but that post is gonna have to wait until tomorrow.

@graveyarddirt

#hagging out #baking #cooking #traditions

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nerdzzone · 4 years

Text

Light After Dark: Chapter Seven

Summary: Brooke Harris was trying her best to be grateful. As the world tackled the COVID-19 pandemic, she was healthy and safe and so was the rest of her family, but her dreams had very quickly been crushed by the economic fallout. Trapped on the quaint island of Jersey with nothing, but free time to wallow in her mistakes, Brooke’s mental health was taking a hit, but when she collides with a handsome stranger she starts to realize that the future might not be so bleak and there might still be a light at the end of the tunnel.

Pairing: Henry Cavill x OFC

______________

May. 17. 2020

"You should go on the Great British Bake Off!"

Henry's idea came through the speakers on my laptop from where it sat on the counter. We'd been chatting on the phone for over an hour and at some point along the way, I'd decided to make cookies. It was late so everyone in my house had long retired to their bedrooms and since I needed my hands free for the baking process, we'd decided to switch to a video chat. It was actually quite nice just having our casual conversation while I did some baking and he sipped on some whiskey.

"Everyone says that," I laughed at his suggestion as I sipped my glass of wine while my cookies baked in the oven. "But I couldn't handle the pressure. Don't get me wrong, I can bake efficiently when I need to, but it must be so stressful on the show. I do cry quite easily too so if they said anything bad about something I made I would probably just burst into tears."

Henry chuckled before sticking his bottom lip out in a dramatic fake pout.

"Awe, can't take criticism?"

"I can!" I protested with a smile. "But they can be really harsh sometimes! And they give them such short time limits and then act like they're shit bakers even if they knew exactly where they went wrong, but they just didn't have time to start again."

"But surely there are times when you're in that situation when baking professionally?"

"Not really," I shrugged. "I wouldn't take a custom order if they wanted it done in an unreasonable time and as far as the basics go, I always made sure I went in early enough before we opened that I could get everything done properly."

"That's very professional of you," He nodded approvingly. "And I'd say it's a fair criticism of the show, but they probably need that time crunch to make the show exciting for viewers."

I gasped dramatically at that comment.

"Are you saying that regular baking wouldn't be exciting?"

"I'm sure some of it would be thrilling," Henry smirked. "But I would also assume that parts of it could be comparable to watching paint dry."

"Hmm, sounds much like the list of movies you've been in..."

I tried to keep straight face as I made that quip, but I cracked up as Henry tossed his head back laughing.

"Wow, Brooke," He chuckled, shaking his head. "That was harsh."

"I'm just teasing," I smiled. "And I am sorry if this impromptu baking show hasn't been very exciting."

"Hey now, that's not what I said." Henry smirked. "It's been delightful. Honestly, if all bakers wore outfits like that then it would never be boring to watch."

I blushed and subconsciously pulled up the straps on my silk cami pajama top to make sure it wasn't too revealing. The shorts that matched it were currently hidden from view by the counter, but I was sure he got a good look at them when I'd bent over to put the cookies in the oven.

"It's not very practical though is it?" I asked, trying to seem nonchalant and unaffected by his comment. "There's a lot of exposed skin that could get burnt..."

"So if the outfit isn't for baking, is it for my benefit?"

I took a big gulp of my wine as he waited for my answer, his eyebrow raised questioningly. Of course I'd made sure that I looked nice, even a bit sexy, before suggesting we switched to video, but I wasn't going to admit that so easily.

"No," I shook my head. "These are just my normal, everyday pajamas."

"The ones you save for special occasions must be very impressive then."

"That depends," I shrugged with a smirk. "If it's a really special occasion then I usually don't wear any."

Henry practically choked on his whiskey and I was pleased to get under his skin a bit.

"Wow, that is..." He cleared his throat. "Fair enough."

Before I could do anything but smirk at watching him squirm, my timer beeped signalling the cookies were done. I mumbled a quick 'just a minute' before turning around, slipping some oven mitts on and bending over to take the cookies out, well aware that I was giving him another show.

I checked the cookies quickly to make sure they were done before setting them on top of the oven and turning back to Henry.

"Those look amazing," He praised. "I can practically smell them through the screen."

"They do smell pretty good," I smiled. "But I've learned the hard way how important it is to let them cool."

Henry laughed, but at the same time a tiny voice from the doorway drew my attention away from the computer.

"Aunt Cookie?" Molly asked. "Can I come in?"

At her age, there were times when I was shocked by how big and how grown up she looked, but now she seemed the opposite. With her teddy bear tucked under her arm, her frilly pink pajamas and her eyes red from crying she looked small and fragile.

"Of course, sweetheart," I smiled. "Can I call you back, Henry?"

He agreed and I quickly hung up before going over to Molly who was still lingering by the door and squatting down to her level.

"What's wrong?"

That was all it took for her bottom lip to start wobbling.

"I'm just...I'm just..." She took a deep breath before letting out a sob. "I'm just so sad."

My heart broke at the sight so I held out my arms and she instantly rushed forward, wrapping hers around my neck. Her whole body shook as she cried, but I just squeezed her tight and rubbed her back until she'd got it all out of her system. Once the sobs had subsided into sniffles, I leaned back and gently wiped my thumb under her eyes.

"Do you want to talk about it?" I asked, giving her a moment to think before she nodded. "Would a freshly baked chocolate chip cookie and some ice cream help?"

Her teary eyes widened in delight at that.

"But I've already brushed my teeth..."

"I think it'll be okay just this once," I winked, earning a quiet giggle. "But don't tell your mum, okay?"

She nodded frantically and I scooped her up into my arms before carrying her over to one of the bar stools at the island. The cookies would have cooled off enough to eat by now so I put two on a couple of plates before adding a big dollop of ice cream. We ate in silence for a few moments before I pressed her.

"So, what's got you so sad?"

"The big virus..."

She mumbled her words around a mouthful of ice cream, but it was what I'd been expecting so I understood.

"It's pretty scary," I agreed. "But what's bugging you right now?"

"Nana and Pops were watching TV and the man said that lots of people died," She confessed and I made a mental note to remind everyone to be careful what they watched when Molly was in earshot. "And that a bunch more people were gonna get sick still."

"Well, unfortunately, that's true," I reluctantly admitted, not sure how much she really knew or really should know. "That's why we came here because not so many people are sick in Jersey so we're safer."

Her lip wobbled again, but she took another bite of her cookie to hide it.

"But what about daddy?"

"He's being super safe," I assured her. "He's being extra careful so he doesn't get sick, but he's being really brave and helping all the people who do get sick so they get better faster."

"I know," She sighed. "But on the TV a doctor said that they needed more masks 'cause there wasn't enough for everyone so what if daddy doesn't have a mask?"

"Your daddy does have a mask." It was a fairly empty assurance to make as I really wasn't sure, but from what I'd seen no first responders were completely out of supplies just yet. "And there's lots of people working really hard to make sure that they don't run out."

She stared me down for a moment, trying to suss out if I was telling the truth, but eventually gave up and looked back down at her cookie.

"Mummy's really sad too," She told me. "So I try to be brave and not be sad so she doesn't get even more sad, but sometimes I just have to be."

If the sight of her crying hadn't crushed my heart before then that comment certainly did. I put my spoon down on my plate and went around the counter to sit next to her. She didn't look up so I reached out and took her tiny hand in mine.

"Look at me for a sec," I requested, my voice soft. She did as I asked and I saw fresh tears in her eyes. "You don't ever have to be strong like that, okay? Not around me or your mum or your nana and pops. If you're feeling sad or worried or upset at all then you can talk to any of us. We're all a little sad and scared right now, but it's always better to get through things together, right?"

She nodded and I wiped away a tear that was sliding slowly down her cheek before kissing her forehead.

"Thanks, Aunt Cookie."

"Anytime, monkey," I smiled. "Was your cookie good?"

She grinned at that and nodded frantically.

"Can Mr. Teddy have one too?"

I laughed at her cheeky request knowing that Mr. Teddy was just a cover for her wanting another, but I shook my head.

"How about Mr. Teddy just finishes mine?"

There were only a few bites left, it wouldn't be as bad as her having a whole new cookie so as she nodded in agreement, I slid the plate over and let her finish it.

"Are you feeling better now?" I asked after she was done as I wiped her fingers and her mouth with a cloth.

"Yes," She said quietly, clearly with something else on her mind. I waited to see if she would elaborate and after a quiet moment, she did. "Do you think we could call daddy?"

"I think we probably can," I nodded. "Why don't you get back in bed and I'll go ask your mummy if he's working tonight."

She agreed and scurried off back towards her bedroom, leaving me the less than pleasant job of telling Cassie about what had happened. I knocked on her door, knowing she would still be awake as it was only eleven o'clock and went in once she answered.

"Hey," She smiled, putting her book down on the bed beside her. "Are you alright?"

"Yeah, I'm fine," I assured her. "But Molly's having a tough time. She just came into the kitchen crying because of some things she overheard on the news."

Cassie paled at that information.

"What did she say?"

"She just asked about people getting sick," I told her as I sat on the end of the bed. "And she heard something about the doctors running out of supplies so she was worried about Josh having a mask."

"Oh god," She sighed. "What did you tell her?"

"I said that I knew her daddy would be careful and that I was sure he had a mask." I braced myself for the next part as I knew it would be hard for her to hear. "But she also said that she knows you're sad so she can't show that she's sad too because she doesn't want to make things worse for you."

Cassie's face fell again at that news and for a moment I thought she was about to cry herself.

"Oh my god, I'm the worst mother in the world," She groaned. "I thought I was hiding it well. I can't believe she didn't think she could talk to me about this."

"It's not your fault," I assured her. "She's too smart for her own good."

"Yes, she is," She laughed half-heartedly. "Is she okay now?"

"I think so," I nodded. "She definitely calmed down, but she was wondering if she could talk to Josh. I told her I'd ask you if he was working."

"He's not," She sighed again. "I'll go have a chat with her and we can give him a call. Thanks for helping her, Brooke."

"Anytime. It's nice to be around when she needs a hug."

Cassie swung her legs off the bed and grabbed her phone from the nightstand.

"She really looks up to you," She smiled. "I'm sure it meant a lot to her that you talked it over with her."

I almost teared up at that as it had meant a lot to me too that she trusted me enough to come to me when she needed comfort.

"I just hope I helped a bit," I shrugged as we headed out the door. "And if she says anything at all about a cookie and some ice cream, she's definitely lying."

"I knew I could smell baking!" She laughed. "I'll be down to get some after I'm done with Molly."

I promised to save her a few as she cracked open Molly's bedroom door and I headed back to the kitchen, hoping to catch Henry before he went to bed.

****

Once I got back to the kitchen, I opened my laptop again and poured myself another glass of wine as it turned back on. Once it was ready, I called Henry and he answered almost right away.

"Hi there," He smiled. "Everything okay?"

I took a large sip of my wine before I nodded.

"Yeah," I sighed. "I think so. My niece apparently heard some things on the news that shocked her and with her dad being a paramedic she needed a bit of assurance."

"Ah, yes, I could see how that makes things more complicated..."

"It was brutal," I frowned. "She's sitting there crying because she heard about all the deaths and how there's a shortage of protective equipment, but it's hard to explain to her. I don't want to lie, but I also don't want to say 'yeah, thirty-five thousand people have died in the UK and loads more probably will before this is all sorted out so keep washing your hands or you will too'."

Henry chuckled at my dramatic simplification of what was happening.

"Yes, I would imagine that's probably not wise to say to a child under ten," He smiled. "But I'm guessing you handled it well?"

"I hope so," I took another sip of wine. "I managed to stop her crying, but the warm cookies and ice cream might have had more to do with that than my words of wisdom."

"I'm sure you did your best," Henry assured me with a smile. "We had a similar issue here the other day. George was just very fed up with the whole situation and demanded to know why he wasn't allowed to see any of his friends. It took ages to calm him down."

"It's so hard!" I sympathized. "They're all going to end up so traumatized from going through this in their formative years."

"Probably, but hopefully they'll come out stronger because of it."

I couldn't help, but smile at his positivity as I took yet another gulp of wine.

"I hope so because otherwise there's going to be a generation of emotionally stunted people who are scared to get within two metres of each other."

"Let's hope that's not the case," Henry laughed. "But I have another pressing question."

I raised an eyebrow at that.

"Oh, do you?"

"Aunt Cookie?" He questioned. "Is that some play on you being a baker?"

It took me a minute to realize what he was talking about and then it dawned on me.

"No, it's not," I laughed. "My mum calls me Brookie and Cassie struggled to say it when she was little so growing up she always called me Cookie. Maybe it was a self-fulfilling prophecy, but that's why Molly calls me that."

"That's really cute," Henry smiled. "And a very fitting nickname for a baker."

"It is," I agreed. "It used to drive me insane when I was a child, but it's grown on me over the years."

"I always wanted a fun nickname, but all I got was Fat Cavill!”

I burst out laughing at that as it was so unexpected from the muscled man in front of me, but I covered my mouth, realizing it was rude to laugh at such a cruel name.

"Were they being ironic?" I asked, shaking my head. "How could anyone think you're fat?"

"I haven't always looked like this," He admitted. "I was chubby when I first went off to boarding school and kids can be very mean."

"That is true, but now you're Superman so fuck them all."

Henry laughed and nodded his head.

"Exactly!"

I smiled at his proud grin before glancing down at the time.

"Well," I sighed. "I should probably get some sleep. Sorry our conversation was interrupted."

"Don't worry about it at all," Henry assured me. "Sounds like it was for an important reason."

"It was," I nodded. "I'll talk to you tomorrow?"

"Absolutely," He smiled. "Goodnight, Cookie."

I stuck out my tongue at the nickname before saying goodnight and hanging up.

I had the usual sense of contentment that I had after a conversation with Henry, but there was a heaviness to it tonight. It was easy sometimes to block it all out and focus on the good that had come out of this pandemic. Meeting Henry, having time to relax, getting to spend time with my family. But in the end, the bad stuff always crept back in. The worry about the future, the sadness of how many lives had been lost and how many would be by the time this was over and now, the impact it was having on Molly and other children like her. She was a pretty tough kid and it was hard to see her crumble like she had tonight. She had a good support system though and I knew in the end she would come out of this mess okay so I picked my laptop up off the counter and headed to bed, trying to keep my thoughts positive and hoping that tomorrow would be a brighter day.

#henry cavill fanfic #henry cavill fanfiction #henry cavill fic #henry cavill x ofc

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disneysholland · 4 years

Text

A Holly Jolly Hoax: Part 2 - t.h.

Pairing: Tom Holland x Reader

Summary: Continuation of Part 1...

Part: 2/x

Word Count: 2k

A/N: It’s been a long time since I’ve posted anything but I just wanted to get this part up so there may be some typos. Hopefully part 3 will be up sooner than this one:)

A few hours and a few glasses of wine later, Tom and I had gotten to decorating the living room along with one of my aunts and a few of my cousins.

Luckily, there was complete radio silence from Tara and the rest of her family. Every time they would enter the room with me, they would leave almost immediately.

The rest of the family, on the other hand, were completely charmed by Tom. The ladies had all gathered around, hanging on his every word when he talked about his roles and living in England.

Overall, it was going great, much better than I could have imagined. They were falling for our ruse and they were also getting off my back for not living the life they had imagined I would.

While Tom was telling a story about meeting Robert Downey Jr. for the first time, I took the chance to slip off to the kitchen and grab a couple cookies.

My mom and grandma had spent the afternoon baking our family recipe of sugar cookies and my mouth had been watering ever since smelling them for the first time. In the kitchen, I found my grandma sitting at the table, frosting away.

“Hi Grandma, I’m coming to swipe some cookies,” I smiled, coming to stand next to her.

She gasped, “But I’m not done yet!”

“It’s okay. I just want two, one for me and one for Tom,” I placed a kiss on her cheek.

“Alright, honey. Go right ahead. Take one of these ones though, they don’t look as pretty.”

I giggled, picking up a cookie.

“Have you talked to Tara yet?” she asked, knowingly.

“Not yet...She keeps avoiding me. Not that I’m complaining...”

“You girls were so close when you were little. Seeing you play together has always been a favorite memory of mine,” she sounded a bit sad.

“Mine too, but things have changed. The situation’s changed,” I shrugged, my eyes trained on the floor.

“That boy of yours seems to make you really happy,” she smiled, sending me a wink.

A smile came to my face, “Yeah, he does. He’s kind of everything I ever wanted in a guy.”

All true. Not a hint of a lie.

“You remind me of me and your grandfather when we were your age. Young and wildly in love. Nothing could keep us from each other.”

She had a longing look in her eyes. My grandfather had passed away a few years ago, leaving a hole in all of our hearts, but especially my grandmother’s. Every time we mentioned him she’d get this sad look in her eyes and kind of disappear for a minute.

“I miss him too,” I reached out, taking her hand in mine.

“Don’t let him go. Tom. He’s yours, I see it in his eyes when he looks at you. Don’t let that boy go.”

I felt the tears rise in my eyes, knowing that he never really would be mine.

“I won’t,” I whispered.

In that moment I realized what I really felt for Tom. It wasn’t just friendship, it wasn’t just a crush...it was love. Real, true love looking me right in the eye and I hadn’t even seen it. How could I be so blind?

Could he feel the same? Is that why he was so quick to say yes to this crazy idea?

“I...should get back to the living room, Tom’ll kill me if I leave him alone for too long,” I let out a fake laugh and quickly turned away, “Thanks for the talk, Grandma.”

Back in the living room, Tom had taken to playing a game with the kids. The sight was enough to fill me with both longing and dread. Why does he have to be so damn perfect? That would make this whole realizing-my-feelings thing so much easier.

“Quick! It’s MJ! You must save her!” My cousin’s son, James, shouted as I walked in the room.

Tom was perched on the edge of the couch in his signature Spider-Man pose.

“I’m coming MJ! Stay right there!” he warned and suddenly jumped off the couch, pretending to swing from buildings.

“I got you MJ!” he said as he reached my side, scooping me up into his arms.

“Oh, Spider-Man. Thank you for saving me,” I said in my best Princess-That-Needs-Saving voice.

“You’re welcome darling, you’re still not safe though, Thanos is still coming!” He then re-positioned me, letting me wrap my legs around his waist.

He then ran across the room, imitating how he would swing through the air. I let out a giggle, hiding my face in his neck.

Then, he sat me down on the couch and turned back towards Maddie, my other cousin’s daughter, who wore a Thanos mask.

“Not this time Thanos!”

Tom pretended to shoot webs out at her and then she finally crumpled to the ground, feigning death.

“Yay! You did it! Spider-Man beat Thanos!”

“Now Spider-Man needs to kiss MJ!” Sarah, another girl said, making kissing motions.

“Ewww,” Maddie groaned.

“You know what, I think Spider-Man should give MJ a kiss,” Tom turned towards me with a wild grin.

Oh God, no. I buried my face in my hands hiding from him.

“Come on, love! It’s just one kiss,” I felt him come closer to me, trying to tug my arms away from my face. This can’t be happening...

"No! Not in front of everyone!”

I put up a good fight but he finally won out and my arms were at my sides. It all happened so fast that I could barely process when his hands came to either side of my face and he placed his lips on mine for the first time.

My arms came up to rest around his neck, almost on instinct, as we eased into the kiss. It was euphoric, the feeling of his lips on mine, even if it only lasted for a few seconds. Though I’d never admit it out loud, this is what I had been dreaming of for a long time.

As soon as we broke away, my eyes met his and I felt something shift between us. All I could do was hope that it wasn’t for the worse. My eyes drifted across his face, trying to read what he was thinking but for once, I couldn’t tell. Did he hate it and absolutely want to run away or the opposite? Did he realize what I had just realized moments before?

"Aww, well aren’t you guys adorable,” my aunt Michelle said as she walked into the living room.

Tom quickly jumped back, moving a few feet away from me and my attention shifted to Michelle.

“Grandma! Tom is Spider-Man so y/n is MJ! He rescued her from Thanos!” Sarah yelled when she noticed her presence.

“Wow! That’s awesome!”

Suddenly, all the kids had engulfed Michelle and were showing her their cool costumes and toys. At that moment, Tom sat down next to me, wrapping an arm around my shoulders.

He then leaned back in, his lips coming dangerously close to my ear.

“It’s just acting, darling,” he whispered, sending chills up my spine.

Yeah, right. Acting. All I could do was nod when I glanced towards him.

“Alright, alright kids. Enough playing around,” Michelle said, laughing and turned back towards us, “I was coming to let you guys know that the food’s here, so lets eat!”

---

“I think that was the most aggravating dinner I’ve ever had in my life,” I sighed, leaning against the back of the bedroom door as I closed it.

“Well, you survived it, so that was a plus,” Tom said as he sat down on the bed.

The entire dinner was spent avoiding the judging gaze of my aunt Barb, Tara, and Carly; and of course dodging the incessant questioning of Tom and I’s relationship. That was the last thing I wanted to talk about, especially with Tom playing it exceptionally well that he was in love with me.

Of course I didn’t have to fake it when I told them of how I first knew I was in love with him or how he made me happier than anyone ever has... Somehow this wonderful plan I had was majorly backfiring on me in the worst way possible.

“I desperately need a shower, don’t watch anything good without me,” I pointed a finger at Tom who had already picked up the TV remote and was flicking the channels around.

He held up his hands in defense and let out a laugh.

I rolled my eyes and made my way into the bathroom, ready to relieve my stress with a warm, comforting shower.

Fifteen minutes later, I exited the warmth of the bathroom into the cold bedroom. In the time I was gone, Tom had taken it upon his self to make a bed in the floor.

“Tom, I can’t let you sleep on the floor. I invited you, you take the bed.”

He leaned back from his spot on the floor to look at me.

“No, no, no. You should be comfy, I’m not gonna let you sleep on the floor.”

I sighed, taking a minute to think before the following words came out of my mouth.

“Well, then you’re sleeping in the bed with me,” I turned away and started pulling the sheets back.

“Are you sure?” he said softly, still laying on the ground.

I nodded, “I mean, yeah. We’ve slept on couches together before. I trust you.”

“Fine, I guess I can’t fight that,” he said as I was climbing in the bed, “But for the record, the floor was surprisingly comfortable.”

I giggled and rolled my eyes.

“Somehow I don’t believe that.”

A smirk grew across his lips as he picked up the blankets of the ground and joined me in the bed. His shoulder was nearly touching mine, but before I could let myself freak out about it, he turned away, reaching out for the lamp on his bedside table.

“Goodnight, love.”

“Night,” I squeaked out and immediately turned the other way.

It’s definitely going to be an interesting night. How am I supposed to sleep with him right there? It feels awkward and weird even though we’re usually way closer than this.

After a little while of my mind racing, I worked up the courage to flip back over.

“Tom?” I whispered.

“Hmm?”

“I can’t sleep,” I mumbled.

He sighed and turned over to face me. “Is it about dinner?”

I shrugged, “I guess a little bit. It’s just being in a house with all of these people, it’s wearing me out already. I feel like I’m walking on eggshells, waiting for the other foot to drop. It’s kind of exhausting.”

“Darling, come here,” he said, holding his arms open for me to slide in. I did as he asked and wrapped my arms around his waist, burying my face

“I’ve told you this before and I’ll tell you it again. You are not the opinion of anyone who doesn’t matter. Don’t beat yourself up so much over trying to make them happy. You’re you and you’re amazing the way you are. You’re smart, you’re funny....beautiful and you light up every room you walk in. If they’re too blind to see it then that’s their problem.”

I nodded from the comfort of his chest, not wanting him to see the blush that was growing on my cheeks. I had spent my whole life thinking that no one cared about me or even liked me and here Tom is, telling me the sweetest words.

“Hey, look at me. Okay?” he said, pulling back slightly.

“Yeah,” I smiled, “Thank you for always knowing the right thing to say.”

He gave me a soft smile back and I tucked myself back into his embrace. For a while we just stayed like that, him rubbing my back and my eyes beginning to flutter closed. It felt nice and all of the awkwardness from earlier had dissipated.

“Tomorrow will be better okay?” he mumbled, continuing the rub comforting circles on my back.

All I could do at that point was nod before I fell off into dreamland.

#tom holland x reader #tom holland fanfiction

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alwayschoosechocolate · 4 years

Text

Jolabokaflod (kmj)

Genre: fluff, established relationship

Paring: reader x Namjoon

Word count: 2000

Some Christmas traditions may be foreign to your culture, but still be the absolute perfect fit for you. Jolabokaflod is just one of those traditions and with your boyfriend next to you, Christmas couldn’t be better.

Taglist: @spookidema @jessicarhb @ambrietalksanddraws

A/N: Just to shortly explain what Jolabokaflod means, I’ve included a short explanation after the cut, before the story. This was my first time writing for Namjoon outside of my series Are we even speaking the same language? and it was actually surprisingly difficult to not just write him in the same way 😅 But I am so happy with ending my Christmas drabbles in this way! I’ve enjoyed getting my head out of the very turbulent life I’ve had lately and writing all this fluff has got me itching to get back to write my series again, where I can write some angst and crack! 😍😍

Anyhow - this is the last Christmas drabble! I hope you’ve enjoyed and loved reading them as much as I have enjoyed writing them! Happy holidays to all of you! ❤️☃️

The previous drabbles can be found in the master post for the drabbles. My other stories and drabbles can be found in my masterlist

Jolabokaflod is part of the Icelandic Christmas tradition of gifting books on Christmas and then spending the rest of the night reading, wrapped up in blankets and sipping on hot cocoa. The tradition stems back from WWII, where imported goods were heavily restricted, but paper were comparatively cheap to import. Books therefor became a common Christmas gift, and the tradition has carried on til this day. Jolabokaflod in Icelandic means ‘Christmas book flood’ and refers to the large number of books being publish in the weeks leading up to Christmas.

Soft tones of instrumental music flowing from the speakers, the heavenly smell of the quiche being baked in the oven, and your tranquil smile as you walked around lighting the candles in the living room was definitely part of the recipe for a perfect Christmas, Namjoon decided as his eyes followed your movements through his living room, a soft smile clinging to his features.

“Flower,” his gentle voice called out for you, for no other reason than for him to see your eyes light up the way they always did, when he used that nickname for you.

Grinning happily at him, you crossed the living room to his leaning position against the door frame leading to the kitchen. Raising yourself on your toes you pressed a chaste kiss to his cheek, smiling when you felt him smirking in response.

Humming as you pulled away, you turned back towards the living room automatically leaning against his side as you did so.

“Do we have everything? You have the gifts?”, you inquired, grinning when you heard the affirmative hum from the man behind you.

“I made them all promise to buy books and only books,” he spoke sincerely, leader features popping out as he nodded seriously at you.

For Christmas this year, you had decided to try something slightly different – jolabokaflod. Namjoons family had never been big on Christmas and yours were going abroad to celebrate with your aunt and uncle in Australia, so this year was perfect to celebrate in your very own way. You had wanted to try it for years, but never had the chance to since no one in your family were literary interested in that way.

But you and Namjoon shared a deep love for literature and cozy nights wrapped up in blankets with an open book in front of you, so you decided to introduce him to the concept, hoping he would be equally fond of the idea. Not only had he been equally excited, he had gone above and beyond to make sure the other members followed the rules as well, despite them celebrating Christmas with their own families.

“You didn’t have to do that, Joonie,” you giggled, eyeing the carefully wrapped presents on the table in the kitchen. “They probably had a hard time figuring out which books to buy.”

“Oh, definitely. I had to talk Jimin out of buying you the entire bookstore, because he couldn’t make up his mind,” he chuckled, as he wrapped his arms around your waist and pulled you closer to his chest. “He wanted to make sure he got you the best gift.”

“And did he?”, you teased, leaning your head back against his chest throwing a quick glance at the quiche in the oven to make sure it wouldn’t burn.

“No way,” he scoffed with a light chuckle, leaning down to press a kiss to your neck. “He could never beat mine.”

Giggling at his confidence, you reached one hand up to run through his hair as he rested his head against your collarbone, each warm breath making goosebumps appear on your skin. Breathing each other in and letting the quiet and comfort settle in your bones, the floating tones of a lone piano filled the air. His hands tracing undecided symbols to your waist as he hummed along to the piano. Your hand slowly dragging over his scalp and through his hair with care. Serene smiles painting both your lips, as you tipped your head to capture his in a slow kiss.

By the ding of the oven timer, you were both startled, causing sheepish smiles to appear as you both jumped back into action. As Namjoon set the table, you pulled the quiche out of the oven and quickly prepared a salad while it cooled down a bit.

Sitting down to eat was calm and comfortable. No screaming cousins running around. No uncle making inappropriate jokes. No questions about grandkids or marriage. Just the two of you and your non-Christmassy quiche, as you laughed and discussed your favorite Christmas movies.

Moving to the living room with cocoas in hand after dinner, you placed the plate of cookies on the table next to the mountain of presents. Sitting down against the armrest of the couch, you pulled your feet up under you only to have Namjoon reach out and pull them over his lap, so he could rest his warm hands on your thighs.

Sending you a shameless smile, he gave your thigh a light smack before reaching for his cocoa, that you had placed on the table.

“So how do we do this?”, he asked, waiting for you to take charge, since jolabokaflod was your idea. “Is there a certain way to do it or?”

Shaking your head with a laugh, you grabbed his neck and pulled him in for a quick kiss in pure adoration.

“There is no rule for this, babe. We just open presents like every other Christmas,” you answered with a doting smile.

“Okay, but I want you to open mine last,” Namjoon beamed, as he grabbed one of the bigger presents and placed it next to him on the couch, opposite the side where you were sitting.

“Fine,” you giggled, as you pulled away your gift for him away as well. “Then I want you to wait with mine as well.”

Making your way through the presents, the stacks of books on either side of the coffee table got bigger and bigger. Everything from novels, poetry collections, nonfiction and travel books appeared in the piles, making for a colorful and exciting collection of both your interests. The other members had really gone out of their way to find the perfect gifts, Jungkook had even found you a poetry collection from a small local writer, you had been gushing on about for a few weeks now.

“Can I open yours now?”, you pouted at Namjoon with innocent eyes, when the table was empty of presents and wrapping paper littered the floor around you.

“No, not yet,” he grinned happily as he stole a kiss from your lips. “I want to open yours first,” he stated, making grabby hands in your direction.

“Fine.”

Reaching behind you for his gift, you placed it in his extended hand, smiling happily at the excited gleam in his eyes as he unwrapped it, falling completely silent when the book came into view.

Turning to you with wide eyes, his jaw hanging slightly open, he gingerly opened the book in his hands. The red leather binding squeaked slightly, and the gold letters glimmered in the candle lights, as he found the title on the first page.

“Grimm’s household tales,” he whispered as his fingers traced the English letters. “1884.”

“It’s one of the earliest translations of their fairy tales,” you explained, as you observed his reaction. “You’ve been talking so much about European fairy tales lately, I thought I would find you some of the original ones.”

Delicately placing the book down on the coffee table, he cautiously ran his fingers over the cover as he retracted his hand.

“Thank you so much,” he spoke sincerely, turning to you with amazement in his eyes. “I love it.”

Cupping your cheek, he leaned in to press an affectionate kiss to your lips, leaving you blushing and slightly breathless.

“Alright, now where is my present?”, you giggled in anticipation of his gift for you, laughing happily when he pulled out the gift from behind him to hand it to you, a fond smile on his lips at the sight of your excitement.

“But I can’t top yours, flower,” he giggled sheepishly, as he handed you the gift and observed you start to unwrap it.

“Oh, hush,” you scolded as you ripped at the paper, finally revealing the two books it contained.

Turning them over in your hand, you held them up next to each other and looked back at Namjoon in confusion.

“Am I missing something, or did you give me two copies of the same book?”, you giggled in confusion, as you looked at the titles again. A little life by Hanya Yanagihara it clearly said on both of them.

“I did,” he smiled proudly, though you were still confused. “You’ve talked about this book almost all year, but for some reason you haven’t read it yet, so I thought we could read it together tonight. Like each in our own book, but here next to each other and talk about what happens as we read it,” he explained with excited eyes, making your heart melt at the thoughtfulness behind it.

“That’s adorable, Joonie,” you smiled at him, as you leaned in to press a kiss to his cheek. “You want to share the book with me.”

“I want to share everything with you, but for now, yes, I want to share this with you,” he spoke sincerely, leaning in to capture your lips in a passionate and slow kiss. “I love you.”

“Love you too, baby,” you blushed at his statement, hearing him chuckle knowingly, when you looked back at the books in your lap to hide it. “Then let’s make some more cocoa and get to the reading part of the evening,” you grinned in anticipation.

Feeling a tug at your foot under the blanket, you lifted your eyes to meet his over sea of blankets enveloping the two of you. Smiling cheekily at him over rim of your cup of cocoa, he grinned back with loving eyes.

“Did you get to chapter 7 yet, darling?”, he asked as he squeezed your angle lightly under the blanket again, excitement evident in his voice.

“Not yet,” you giggled, straightening your leg so he could reach more of your bare skin from his position at the other end of the couch. “I’m rereading the last few pages in chapter 6. There is so much happening,” you gaped, voice slightly breathless as you took in the story on the pages in front of you.

“I’ll make us more cocoa while I wait then,” he promised as he grabbed your mug from your hand and moved to the kitchen in a hurried shuffle, where he turned on the stove and placed the pot back on the top, pouring in some more cocoa. Waiting for it to heat up, he constantly threw glances at you as you read through the last few pagers of the chapter once more.

Slightly bouncing on his heel in anticipation, he poured the now hot beverage into your cups , hurrying back to the couch and your company.

“So did you finish?”, he inquired as he handed you your mug, practically vibrating from the excitement of discussing the plot while experiencing it.

His brows where slightly raised, his eyes widened in suspense and his hands gripping his mug a bit too tight, as his excited eyes peered into yours, eager to hear your understanding of the events.

Swapping theories on the events in the book, you read each other paragraphs from the book to support your claims or brought each other’s attention to an especially clever or beautifully worded sentence as you read on. As the candles burned down around you and the sound of turning pages got less frequent as you got more and more sleepy, the evening stretched into the early hours of the morning.

It was close to two AM, when Namjoon put down his book to ask you if you wanted to call it a night, only to find you sound asleep against the armrest, book dropped to your chest with your hands still on top of it.

Smiling fondly at the scene, he carefully untangled himself from the blankets and closed his book around the bookmark, before reaching for your book and delicately freeing it from your grasp and placing your bookmark between its pages.

For a second he debated if he should carry you to bed, but something about waking up with you on the couch still in the living room with your books on table, caused a ecstatic smile to reached his face, so he decided against it.

Quickly turning off the lights, he returned to you on the couch and slipped in behind you, pulling you flush against his chest and pressed a kiss to the crown of your head, ending your first Christmas together tangled up on the couch with the smell of cocoa in the air.

#christmas drabble #namjoon fluff #namjoon imagine #namjoon reaction #namjoon x reader #bts imagine #bangtan imagine #bts fluff #bangtan fluff #namjoon boyfriend #bts reaction #bangtan reaction #happy holidays #merry christmas #christmas fluff

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the-blind-assassin-12 · 4 years

Text

Home for Christmas

A/N: Oops. This was supposed to post yesterday. (and it’s barely posting today.) Guess we’re a day behind? Guess this means extended Christmas? Guess in the final days of 2019 I still can’t stick to a schedule. Oh well. Some things never change, while others...do. Here’s the one and only Ryan request for Day 8 of the 12 Days of Christmas Fics. I asked @something-tofightfor and @its-my-little-dumpster-fire for input on whether this should be past Ryan or future Ryan, and this was the response I got- @something-tofightfor : future. @its-my-little-dumpster-fire : past ‘cause I like to be difficult. So I cheated and did both. Anywho, this is related to Passing Through.

Word Count: 2,183

Prompt from: @its-my-little-dumpster-fire

“Did you eat all those cookies?”

“Is that mistletoe? You know it’s poisonous, right?”

When you woke up on Christmas morning, the red and and black tartan blanket had been pulled up to your chin, the multi-colored quilt tucked around your toes. It was chilly in the attic-turned-guest room. Taylor’s husband Dean had been meaning to bolster the insulation and seal the drafty windows, but as they seemed to every year, the holidays simply came up too soon for him to get the work done in time. You and Ryan both understood of course, assuring Taylor that you’d both spent much colder nights, and complimenting Dean on the amount of work he had been able to do on the house in the short time that they’d owned it. They’d made the move from Georgia up to a small suburb outside of Pittsburgh only two months prior, and somehow they’d made it suitable to host most of the Brenners for Christmas (Patrick was spending the holiday with his new girlfriend Natalie and her family down in Texas, and Tommy had gotten work out on a wind farm in Kansas, the holiday overtime too good to turn down.)

Extra blankets and a space heater had been brought up to get you through your stay, but even without them you would have been fine. You were never cold when Ryan’s arms were around you, your back against his chest, his steady heartbeat lulling you to sleep. But when you opened your eyes and rolled over, he wasn’t there. Hmm. You peeled back the double layer of blankets and dropped your legs over the side of the bed, toes wiggling into your waiting moccasins. The rushing sound of water moving through the pipes met your ears as soon you were on your feet, and you guessed that he’d gone down a floor to use the bathroom. You folded the blankets and reached for the forest green thermal shirt that Ryan had worn the day before, pulling it over your head and pushing your arms through the too-long sleeves. With a yawn, you combed your fingernails through your hair, twisting it up into a knot, before leaving the attic to quietly head downstairs.

You padded down the creaky steps, the soft leather soles of your slippers tapping on the hardwood. Reaching the first floor, you turned into the family room. The fire was crackling with more life than it would be had it been left alone since last night, so you knew someone had come down to stoke it. You’d wanted to be up first, get coffee going and start breakfast as a way to thank your hosts. You strained your ears listening for any signs of life, hearing only the snapping and popping of the flames, the muffled sounds of snores, and the shuttering pipes upstairs. It’s still quiet down here… maybe whoever it was went back to bed.

Passing the tree, laden with homemade ornaments spanning decades, your heart warmed more than it had from the fire. Mason jar lids and popsicles sticks, pipe cleaners and painted macaroni adorned the branches, illuminated by bright bulbs in every color. Aunt Holly had brought the box of Christmas memories up from Georgia with her as a surprise for the bunch of them. The night before, once everyone had settled in, you all gathered around the tree to add to the few decorations that Taylor and Dean had already hung. You sat on the floor by the fireplace leaning against Ryan’s chest as the box was unpacked, listening intently to the stories behind each and every one of the decorations, imagining smaller versions of the Brenners painstakingly glueing and glittering pieces of construction paper around Holly’s kitchen table. Your fingers brushed over a clothespin that had been painted brown with messy brushstrokes, pipe cleaners bent and twisted to look like antlers, and a red pom pom stuck on as a nose.

“That’s one’a mine”, he told you as you watched Taylor’s 5 year old daughter agonize over the perfect spot on the tree. “Made it for Aunt Holly for Christmas the year she took me in.” He spoke in your ear, right arm draped over your shoulder, rough fingers tracing gentle, soothing patterns on your left bicep. “S’nice to see this stuff again.”

You turned your head, leaning it back against his shoulder to look up at him. The flickering firelight danced in his eyes as they met yours. You’d been together for two years, but the feeling that you got when that happened hadn’t changed except to grow stronger. You smiled, reaching across your body for his hand and linking it with your own. “I bet it is,” you said. “I’m glad I get to see all of this, too.” You dragged your nose over the spot where his neck sloped into his shoulder before pressing your lips to the exposed skin over the collar of his shirt. You felt him swallow and heard a happy little hum come from deep in his soul.

Ryan tightened the arm he had around you, eliminating any remaining space between your bodies. His lips found a spot near the crest of your cheek, scratchy beard tickling you as he spoke. “You’re the only one I wanna share it with, Junebug.” You closed your eyes, a fullness in your chest that no one but Ryan could put there. He smiled as he kissed your cheek. “The only one I ever wanna share it with.”

“Ryan,” his name twirled off your tongue, dancing, light as a feather, to the skipped beat of your heart. You looked around the room, laughter and the smell of nutmeg filling the air as Zach and Jimmy regaled Dean with the infamous sunburn story. Holly was helping Cheyenne hang a wreath made of mis-matched buttons near the top of the tree while Jimmy chased a much-too-hyper Evan around the room. This is home, you thought, even though it wasn’t for either of you.

“Evan Jacob Bingham!” Taylor’s voice cut through the merriment, all 5 foot three of her small frame suddenly stern as she stuck both hands on her hips.

“Uh oh,” Ryan said in a low voice, causing you to snicker.

All eyes turned to Evan, his sandy hair hanging from his head as Fitz held him upside down by the ankles. Little green eyes widening to saucers, his face flushed scarlet as he took in his mother’s expression.

“Did you eat all of those cookies?!” She demanded, gesturing to the plate on the counter that now suspiciously only held crumbs.

Fitz righted the child, setting him back on the ground and ruffling his hair. He leaned over to hover over Evan’s shoulder. “Better fess up, kid. ‘Member, Santa’s watchin’. Lyin’ won’t do you any favors.”

You laughed to yourself, feeling warm all over again as your fingers left the little clothespin Rudolph. Stepping into the kitchen, you busied yourself with the coffee can, measuring scoops of the nutty grounds and dumping them into one of the leftover filters that you’d used to make paper snowflakes with Taylor’s kids the night before. More ornaments for next year’s tree. You secured the lid on the can, giving it a smack to make sure it was sealed tight, when a peel of laughter hit your ears. It was muffled slightly, and followed by a deeper, fuller chuckle that you couldn’t mistake if you tried. Ryan. Setting your task aside, you moved the curtains over the sink just in time to see Ryan hoisting Cheyenne and Evan, one under each arm, up to place the hat atop the head of the most perfectly constructed snowman you’d ever seen, a grin broke out on your face and your hand came up to your mouth. There you are, Ryan Brenner.

You watched the three of them admire their handiwork as the coffee pot bubbled and steamed to life somewhere behind you, before you saw Ryan toss his head in the direction of the house, telling them it was time to go back inside. The kids turned and immediately ran towards the back door, wobbling like penguins in their snow boots. When Ryan turned, his eyes went straight to the window, a wide smile brightening his face. Above his beard his cheeks and nose were bright red from the cold, a puff of vapor forming as he let out a breath. Raising one hand, he waved to you, and you wiggled your fingers over the cuff of his shirt to wave back, biting your bottom lip.

The door banged open and Cheyenne and Evan burst inside, stomping clumps of white onto the mat and yanking the zippers of their jackets open. “We made a snowman!” Evan said, turning to you as though he knew you’d be there to receive the news.

“I see!” you said, pointing out the window. “A very nice one, too.” Cheyenne’s arm was stuck in her sleeve, her little eyebrows furrowing in frustration. You stooped down next to her to pull her free. “Did you name him?”

“Uh huh,” the little girl smiled at you as she sat down to take her boots off. “Frosty, like in the song.”

“That’s a perfect name,” you said, recalling the afternoon before yesterday, when Ryan and Jimmy had played a bunch of kid friendly Christmas songs to keep the kids out of Taylor’s hair while you helped her and Aunt Holly with some of the baking.

The door opened again, a rush of cold air blowing in as Ryan stepped inside. “‘Mornin’, bug,” he said, eyes bright and wide awake from the icy temperature. He removed his hat, his long hair askew. Morning, Ryan. “Merry Christmas.” He wiped his boots off before bending down to undo the laces, tattooed fingers working nimbly once they were free of his gloves. You rose back to your full height as he took a step to close the distance..

You felt the cold coming off of him but still only wanted him closer. “Merry Christmas, Ryan.” You raked your fingers through his hair and behind his ear. “You three were up ealy,” you said, eyes never leaving his.

He shrugged with a grin. “Frosty i’nt gonna build himself,” he said before turning to his accomplices. “Right guys?”

“Right!” They answered in unison.

“Right.” He turned back to you. This man.

“Right.” You agreed, nodding as your smile turned into a laugh. You draped both arms over his shoulders, twirling the curl at the nape of his neck around your finger as you leaned into him. “Why don’t you go get warmed up,” you suggested, and I’ll get some breakfast started and-”

“Is that mistletoe?” Evan was staring at the two of you, pointing to the bundle of greenery hanging in the doorway above your heads. You hadn’t seen it before, nor had you realized that you’d gotten as close to him as you had, or that he’d placed both of his frozen hands on your hips. It is. “You know it’s poisonous, right?” He asked, matter of factly.

You and Ryan looked at each other before bursting into a laugh that had you collapsing into the frosty fabric of his coat, his hands rubbing slowly up and down your back as you both looked back up at one another. “That so?” Ryan asked, Evan nodding emphatically. “And who told you that, your mama?”

“Yeah,” came Taylor’s voice from the kitchen doorway, the lights from the tree glowing on her rounded cheeks. “Sound familiar, Ry?” She quirked an eyebrow as Evan and Cheyenne scrambled passed her, one on either side. She touched both of their sandy-haired heads as they headed upstairs to change into warm clothes.

Ryan laughed, shaking his head. “Yeah,” he said with a nod. “It might sound a little familiar.”

“That’s what he told me,” Taylor answered your question before you could ask it. “When we were kids, and I was a young, hopelessly romantic seven year old pining her pigtails off for Bobby Hartshorne, sayin’ that I hoped I got to kiss’m under the mistletoe. And then here comes Ryan,” she gestured with mock annoyance at her closest cousin who grinned mischievously. “Tellin’ me kissin’ is gross and mistletoe is poison.”

“I did say that,” he admitted with a chuckle.

“How romantic of you, Ry,” you said, barely keeping the smirk from your face.

“Well,” Taylor clapped him on the shoulder before smiling at you. “Glad to see that some things change.” She winked and then headed over to help herself to the coffee you’d made.

Without taking his eyes from yours, he spoke quietly and pulled you closer. “Rules are rules,” he said, nose brushing yours before you felt his lips steal the breath from your lungs. “Poison or not.” His fingers flexed around your hips as your hands found their way over his jawbone and up into his hair.

The kiss was quick but you felt it all throughout your bones. “Love you, Ryan,” you told him, knocking your nose against his again. “Let’s get some coffee, huh?”

@something-tofightfor @its-my-little-dumpster-fire @suchatinyinfinity @obscurilicious @lexxierave @thesumofmychoices @songtoyou @ymariejp @breanime @gollyderek @traeumerinwitzhelden @malionnes @elanor-of-imladris

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#12 days of christmas fics #ryan brenner #passing through #the brenner bunch #ryan brenner x you #ryan brenner x reader #home for christmas #i love the gaggle of cousins #and i look for any excuse to let them loose

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