#i also have to finish wind and truth before i do that... um... | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

etherealmaidenprincess · 4 months ago

Text

Why I Stopped Chasing Part 2

Sonamy/Sonadamy

A few days went by and Amy was back to her normal self…er normal healthier self that is. Part of her kept thinking back about that conversation with Shadow. How she finally was able to speak out her thoughts. Being heard out loud made it feel more….real. Sighing, she found herself excusing from the group, post Eggman attack, heading towards the beach. That was until she felt a familiar gust of wind around her. Followed by a light tap on her shoulder.

“Mind if I join you?” Closing her eyes she smiled before glancing back to see the casual stance he bore from time to time.

“If you don’t mind being near water too much.”

“Eh, I’ll figure it out. Besides, it’s a nice sunset and the beach has a perfect view.”

“Well actually” Amy giggled as Sonic raised a brow. “There is a place that is even more special when it comes to watching the sun set below the ocean horizon line.” A wave of her hand and he followed with curiosity written all over. But brushed it off as he watched the glowing rays reflect off her like an ethereal being.

They walked together mostly in calm silence for a while. The waves crashing to and fro the shoreline. Amy paused to take off her shoes, feeling the soft sand with every step and the waves wash over. A light breeze caused her quills to flow in the wind gracefully. Sonic couldn’t help but steal a glance every so often. Whilst also being cautious of the water too.

“So Ames…um…I’ve been meaning to ask you this for a bit.”

“Hm?” Coming out of her serene moment, watched as Sonic looked a bit…unsure and albeit nervously flustered? Instead of his cool, collected, self. “You can ask me anything.”

“Well it’s just…you’ve been more…quiet, erm I think Tails used the word reserved. Like you’re still you but there's a part of yourself that’s been…different.” Sonic growned, one hand over his face in both embarrassment and frustration.

“Sonic-”

“Are you alright Ames? I mean if there is something that’s bothering you, we’re all here for ya. Me especially, but, like, don’t feel like you have to tell us of course. But…we- I am worried a bit.” Amy breathed, biting her lip. He did notice and he’s the one initiating this conversation. Not totally unusual, but it was a unique change of pace here.

“Sonic” She sighed before stopping and turning to face him fully. “I suppose I have been distant lately. It’s nothing anyone’s done here. It’s more so of what I did that I’m…embarrassed about ish.”

“What you’ve done? Embarrassed? I don’t understand.” Closing her eyes she gripped her fist before breathing in deeply, gaining the courage to finally tell him everything.

“Long ago, I was our obsessed fangirl. The hero who saved the world from Eggman, etc. But the keyword here is obsessed. Overtime I got to know you and well you know, I said I loved you countless times, asking you insistently for a date, etc. I let my emotions run wild there. Though the one thing that remained true, yet changed for the how, is the fact that I love you. I still do.”

“Amy-”

“Please, let me finish. I have a point, I promise.” Holding up her hand and waiting for any chance of his speed breeze to hit her face. When it didn’t she continued.

“I love you for who you are, Sonic. Being free, having adventures and living in the moment. That’s why I fell for you. I also like being free and going on adventures and discovering everything I can about the world. Living my life the way I want to be as myself. It’s why I admire your spirit so much on the matter. You gave me the confidence to do so without trying.

But I can also see how saying how much I love you, wanting to start that relationship could also be viewed as being ‘tied down’ to a ‘domestic’ life. At least socially that’s how it’s viewed. However, I never- never, wanted that to be the truth. I could never even consider the idea of taking away the big part of why I fell for you. It’s not right.

After taking time to think about things, I decided to back off, be normal and just be there for you as I can without being so clingy. Sweet Gaia above it was so embarrassing how I acted before. Also, using my hammer in anger, not healthy.” Amy sighed before turning around to open her eyes at the sky above and the sea below.

“Sonic I will always love you. But I swear, if you never want this, I won’t ever bring it up again. I’ll be your friend and I’m more than satisfied with that. But that is my truth.” Turning her head slightly she saw the large boulder that sat upon the edge of the shoreline. Walking over she sat down on the highest peak. Surprised to hear familiar footsteps nearby.

“Wow…um…that’s a lot.”

“Yeah, but you deserve to know the truth. I’m not expecting anything except your truth about it. Which, take your time.” Feeling him sit down beside her, the silence between them grew again. Sonic, hands together and twirling thumbs around, kept glancing between the sun set and Amy. This was a somewhat unexpected turn, but he had a gut feeling this conversation would lead to her heart. Just wasn’t done in a way that he found normal. But even so, there is only one thing she asked, his truth.

“You sure have your surprises, Ames.” He giggled as she smiled briefly before looking down. “But I think I would be lying if I said I didn’t care for you the same way either.”

“What?” Turning around she soon was met with his lips pressed against the back of her hand.

“Amy, I love you too.” His smile only grew as her eyes widened in utter shock. “You’re strong, compassionate, a heart for the world and others like nobody else. The talent you have whilst fighting and the talent of being the creative you I’m fond of. You….your smile is one I would miss seeing every day.” He moved closer with one hand gently reaching out, resting against her cheek.

“I’m not the best with words, but perhaps I can show you…may I?” With a small, yet confused nod, he leaned in and gave a simple, light and meaningful kiss upon her lips. Before pulling away and resting his forehead against her own.

“Sonic…” Amy breathed before feeling his thumb brush against her lower lip.

“Overtime you’ve managed to catch up with the speed my heart races everytime I see you. Er…ugh that was corny.”

“Yeah…but I like it.” Amy smiled, a slight hue of pink tinted her cheeks.

“Amy you mean so much more to me than I ever thought possible. I…I can’t imagine what it would be like without you in my life. May I…ask you to be ‘my gal’ even-though-you-are-your-own-person-and-nobody-will-ever-own-you?” Amy giggled and lunged just enough to wrap her arms around his neck and press her head against his chest with a nod.

“I would love to.” She breathed. Slowly he wrapped his arms around her too and rested his head atop hers.

“I’m yours too.” He whispered. Gently caressing her back briefly before pulling back and gingerly leading her into another soft kiss.

The moment between them, full of wonder and new beginnings for them both. Even if they have a long way to go, especially when it came to a familiar red and black hedgehog that has occupied in their hearts as well. Nearby he watched everything go down and for the first time in a while, gave a genuine half smile before disappearing. His time would come but for now, this is about the two of them. That was more than he could ask for….their happiness.

#amy rose #sonic the hedgehog #writing #one shot #sonamy #romance #shadow the hedgehog #fanfic #sonadamy

20 notes · View notes

wrintur · 4 months ago

Text

I was supposed to do a Valentines Day event with my friends but we canceled cuz they didn't write anything, so here's what I wrote for the first day...

Anyway sorry if this is actual lethal ass I had so much school work smh

Word count ; 1.8k

Pairing ; Yan!Detective x Framed!Reader

Synopsis ; Someone had accused you of killing your boyfriend for revenge, and no one believes you. The only one who seems to know the truth is your ex, who turns out to be a detective. He agreed to help you figure out who had killed your boyfriend and framed you for it. He just wants something back in return.

You had been busy the whole day and were unaware of the new murder that had become the talk of the town. Meetings and paperwork kept you working consistently and rarely got a break. Being a new low-level employee meant your superiors would lay all the tedious work on you. It was tiring, but you had to do it if you wanted to get a stupid promotion. You were never able to check your phone like you did in your old retail job, so you never saw the news and articles that had come out about your boyfriend murder. You’ve only caught wind of the situation from two ladies in the cafe your boss ordered you to buy coffee for the whole team from.

“Revengeful Girlfriend Kills Cheater Boyfriend” is what the two old ladies standing behind you in line were talking about.

“Can you believe it? Killing someone over another girl? She must be insane.” one of the ladies asked.

“It didn’t even seem like he was going to leave her anyway. He rejected the flowers and chocolate she gave him.” the other replied harshly. Hm. That kind of situation seems familiar. You had suspicions of your boyfriend doing that a few days earlier, but of course, you realize it’s not that serious. Realizing it was something your ex-boyfriend would do also helped you ground yourself. That argument would only be a small thing in your relationship. After being lost in your thoughts, you notice that the two ladies had stopped their gossip. What happened? You turn and notice them both staring right through your soul, and like they had seen a ghost.

“I-i-it’s you. The girl..” one of them pointed at you.

“Huh…what do you mean?”

“The one..the girl, on the news. The killer.”

“Excuse me? What are you talking abou-” before you could finish a familiar body steps in front of you.

“Sorry to interrupt, but you are wrong. I am actually a detective working on the case.” He shows the two of them his badge and quickly snatches you away before they can question you any further. He didn’t want them to fully realize that it was, in fact, you on the news. You didn’t even get to buy the coffee, you're running out of time and your boss will be disappointed… But you have to focus on the matter at hand, what the hell is he doing here?

“Um, what are you doing, you bum?” you said sternly. I mean, what does he think, that he’s saving you? You didn’t know the true gravity of the situation, but at the moment, he really seems like a jack-ass. You were trying to figure out what those people were talking about! Did you really look like a murder… And what kind of a damn crazy story were they talking about before? It sounds like bullshit.

“Hello? Come on, not even a thanks before you berate me?” he waves his hand in front of your face.

“Ha, thanks for what? What even was the problem with them asking me those questions?”

“Um, have you been living under a rock recently? You’ve been accused of a murder. It’s okay though, I know you didn’t do it!” he says way too casually. The only thing going through your mind was “You’ve been accused of a murder.” There was no way. Why would you even do something like that? Who would you even murder? Then it hits you. “Revengeful Girlfriend Kills Cheater Boyfriend” that's what the people you just ran from were talking about. If the story was true, did that mean…your boyfriend was dead?

“M-me..? Murder..my boyfriend? Are you serious?” you say to him as you quickly pull out your phone to try to make sense of what these people were telling you. During your search, you found that everything they said was true. It was like your face has been plastered everywhere on the internet. Luckily, your name has not come out yet, so people have only seen a blurry picture of someone who looks eerily similar to you. Of course those ladies thought you were the murder!

“Gosh, you’re so helpless aren’t you? I can help you. I bet I’m the only one who thinks you didn’t do it. I know the facts and have seen the video, no way it was you!” he chuckles. You also notice that you had an influx of notifications from your friends from your social media apps. They were all sending pictures of articles or the news videos of the same person. They all thought the person all over the news was you. He was right.

“W-what am I supposed to do? It’s over…”

“Come with me.”

“What..?” you replied. Why would you, you were probably gonna be locked up soon.

“I’ll protect you, and I can help you find who framed you. I wasn’t lying when I said I was on the case, y’know.” he says as he grabs you and forces you to follow him. You resisted at first, but the hard truth that there was no other choice stopped you and you followed with no complaints. You both went to his car and arrived at a recognizable house. He brought you back to the place you once so desperately wanted to escape. You wanted to leave, but where would you go? Who knows, maybe the cops are waiting for you at the front door of your house. He stepped out of the car, and so did you. He continued and opened the door, everything looked the same except for the things that were there when you were with him.

“I know you probably don’t want to do this, but you might have to stay with me for a while.” he mentions as he gestures for you to come inside.

“You can stay here while I find out who did it or they might eventually close the case if nothing new happens.”

You have been staying with him for a few months now and never got to leave. “What if someone finds you and I’m not there like at the cafe? Hm?” is what he told you anytime you tried to finally get out of his shithole place. He would get irritated if you ever mentioned leaving or at least going out for a walk. It wasn’t that bad anyway, he has an important job so he’s out of the house most of the day so you get time to yourself.

He told you that the police were still looking for you, even though he told them it was definitely not you. He also said that he could not get any new information about who could’ve possibly done this and that it seems like you’re going to stay with him for a very, very long time.

Of course, if you stayed locked up all day, you were bound to get bored. There was one room you never go to see the inside of during your relationship. He had told you it was his office. But he always got agitated when you tried to ask about it, you didn’t understand, if it was just his office why couldn’t you come in? It seemed like he trusted you with everything else anyway. Maybe it was a confidentiality thing. You didn’t really give a damn about if he got mad if you went in there, so you planned a day where you would break in.

You actually didn’t plan it that thoroughly, he worked everyday! There would be so many opportunities for you to go, you just had to feel like doing it. He always stayed at his job during the times he was supposed to, so you weren’t too worried either about him coming in during the act. It had just been like any regular morning and as soon as he left, you went to his office. You could easily break into the room because it has the locks you can just turn with a quarter, but he was always there to make sure you didn’t go in.

When the door opened, it truly did look like an office. You inspected the trophies and articles lined up against his wall. All rewards from the good work he has done for the community. Next you took a seat down his desk. You noticed an old picture of the two of you that he kept from a long time ago and other memorabilia. Ignoring his obsessive behavior, you took a look at the drawers attached to it. You opened them one by one and they all contained files, before you could read through them you heard the familiar sound of the door being opened. What the hell is he doing here so damn early?! You rush out of the room not noticing one of the drawers being left slightly ajar. Everything had been left perfectly except for that one bit, how could you be so careless? You return back to your bedroom and pretend that everything was the same.

“Hey, I got the rest of the day off, can you believe it?” he states as he walks into your room.

“Aha…yes, that’s nice.” you say sheepishly. You were laying on your bed and he continued to walk in and sat down beside you.

“Since I have the rest of the day off, do you want to go do something outside? I can give you some company.”

“What? Are you serious?”

“Yes, I am!” he laughs because of the shock taking over your face. You told him you wanted to go on a walk and he agreed. It had just turned noon and you went on a walk at the park near his house. Not many people were at the park often, so he wasn’t worried about anyone recognizing you. You both stayed silent throughout the whole trail, he didn’t seem to mind it though.

When the both of you returned, he told you that he was going to do some work even if he was told not to. He ushered you to somewhere else in the house as he went inside his office. As he was sure you had gone completely elsewhere, he opened his computer to see the picture of you earlier, in the very same room he was in now. He had received a notification on his phone the moment you opened the door, how else would he arrive exactly when you were snooping around? Of course he had to set cameras up, knowing how nosey you are. Although, he was proud that it took you a couple months before you started poke around his office. It was good he came on time, or else you would’ve seen what had truly happened to your boyfriend. He should’ve punished you for coming in without permission, but he really couldn’t.

And maybe if he did, you would figure out how long ago your case had been closed.

#my fics #yandere male #yandere x darling #yandere x reader #yandere x you #yandere x gn reader #yandere detective #yandere x y/n #male yandere

13 notes · View notes

its-cosmerely-an-obsesh-wound · 9 months ago

Text

A Promise Full Filled

Below is an excerpt from my most recent fic:

***CONTAINS WIND AND TRUTH SPOILERS***

It had actually happened. Kaladin wasn't sure if any warping of reality on his part had occurred but Dalinar had done what he had needed to do and the three of them had survived until the end. They had all suffered terrible losses but, tonight, they were choosing to ignore all that because they were fulfilling a promise they had made to one another. At the end. Drinks. Jokes. Laughter.

Currently, the laughter was at Kaladin’s expense. Shallan and Adolin had managed to wheedle out of him the particulars regarding what Szeth had mentioned. Szeth had made astounding progress on their trip to Shinovar, so much so that he and Kaladin had laughed easily and often by the end and Szeth had surprised both Shallan and Adolin by interacting with them comfortably when they had returned. Perhaps a little too comfortably. To Kaladin’s chagrin, Szeth had told them that Kaladin had been unable to best the Shin architecture. Szeth had refused to elaborate further and Kaladin had had also refused to give a full account at the time, citing a need to see his family. But, today, there was no diverting them so Kaladin had to explain in painstaking detail, while Shallan howled with laughter, what Szeth had meant.

“The Shin are much shorter people than the Alethi so there were a lot of doorframes, cultivated trees, and even ceilings that would not accommodate the stature of a normal-sized person—"

“An Alethi giant you mean.” Shallan corrected, as she craned her neck in an unnecessarily exaggerated manner to eye him pointedly.

“Fine. Someone of normal Alethi height.” Kaladin conceded.

“You’re tall, even for an Alethi, Kal.” Adolin asserted, appraising him with a slight smile and a lingering look that had Kaladin feeling...on edge. He was not that tall. For an Alethi. He was only a few inches taller than Adolin.

“So what did you do?" Shallan asked, her eyes glittering expectantly. "Try to punch and stab your way through doorways or…”

He wished that were the truth.

“No, um, many times I didn’t notice until—"

“Stormfather! You walked into everything, didn’t you?” She asked with excited incredulity.

Kaladin pressed his lips to a line. He had not walked into everything. But she was right, it had happened. And more than he would have liked. She seemed to guess her aspersion was at least partially correct and he could see the joy in her expression ramping up as he replied.

“Well not everything but there were a few times I—"

Kaladin didn’t get to finish, Shallan erupted with a shrill scream of unbridled glee and Adolin’s barking laugh split the air next to him seconds later.

Sure, Kaladin felt a little embarrassed about how many inanimate objects his face had unexpectedly encountered but he had promised, drinks, jokes, laughter, and he was certainly delivering on the last part. Kaladin found himself chuckling too, after a fashion, but Shallan was definitely the most affected. It took several moments before Shallan wiped tears of mirth from her eyes and rested her hand lightly on his as her raucous sounds of merriment became a subdued giggle.

Kaladin’s laughter became uneasy and died as he processed several disturbing things at once: the hand Shallan had placed on his was her clothed safehand, the topic of conversation had changed to a distressing one, and the seating arrangement was...disquieting and too close. In short, somehow he had gotten trapped between Shallan and Adolin while they argued about Kaladin's farewell hugs all the while Shallan touched him in an arrestingly inappropriate and intimate manner. In the middle of a very public tavern.

How had this happened? He thought back. Kaladin had been sitting in the middle since they had arrived but he hadn’t given the arrangement much thought since they had started the evening a respectful distance apart from one another and they had been discussing a suitable topic: the strange Shinovarian flora and fauna. Shallan had shown a keen interest and Kaladin, grateful for the distraction from all the needling about Shin architecture, had seized the topic like a pouch of stormlight during an Everstorm. Kaladin had explained how lazy the grass had been, laying about and getting trampled all the time; how there had been these delightful happy animals called ‘dogs’ that acted like axehounds but were soft and squishy with no carapace or mandibles and enjoyed probing your backside with their noses; and how some animals Szeth had called ‘goats’ had been able to Surgebind—Szeth had insisted they did not Surgebind but there was simply no other rational explanation for how they scaled sheer cliffs like that, Kaladin had seen them at it with his own eyes—they had to be using adhesion or gravitation. Szeth was mistaken. Unfortunately, mentioning Szeth had reminded them about the storming architecture again but even those laughs at his expense had been better than this.

“You got two hugs.” Adolin insisted to Shallan.

“I had to initiate the first one though and Kaladin suffered it like a chull bound in a heavy stormwagon yolk. The one he initiated was much shorter than the hug he gave you.”

Somehow as the conversation and alcohol had flowed, the distance between them had shrunk to almost nothing, such that Shallan’s and Adolin’s present and disconcerting tete-a-tete was taking place practically on top of Kaladin. Kaladin was immensely uncomfortable. Why did the hugs he gave them matter and why were they chatting about it with no space for Honor between the three of them? Kaladin was finding it harder and harder to follow the exchange because he was becoming increasingly aware of their proximity to him in several would-be innocuous ways...

Here's a link to the rest of it, if you want to keep reading. Please take care, it is rated EXPLICIT because I cannot keep my hands off the smut when it comes to these three...or in general. You know that part in A Bugs Life with the mosquitoes?

Mosquito 1: Harry, no! Don't look at the light!

Harry: *entranced* I-can't-help-it. It's-so-beautiful. *Harry gets zapped and DIES*

Harry is basically me with smut...wait, there's a When Harry Met Sally reference here...if you want to have what she's having you might like my writing 😂 You've probably heard of a gutter ball. *Jumps up and down* Oh, yes, bowling! I've heard of that! Well, I have a gutter brain. There are balls involved in my gutter brain and many other euphemistic sports accoutrements that I could mention. But I won't. No one wants that. In fact, no one wanted this paragraph at the end, not even me, but I typed it already so...pipe down, I got the conch and... *does best Leonidas impression* THIS—IS—TUMBLR!

(RIP Piggy, sorry about your ass-mar and brutal murder—Roger was a right Piero Manzoni piece of work)

Well, that stream of consciousness was a trip to read in the stark light of day. Someone should take away my keyboard. Alright, shutting the fuck up now...

PS: See, I did mean what I said

#tell me you have shakadolin brainrot without telling me you have shakadolin brainrot #I sure can ramble about nothing while quoting random shit #I wrote most of that at 3am but still CHOSE to post it in the middle of the day #I have no impulse control #sorry not sorry #stormlight archive #cosmere #wind and truth spoilers #wat spoilers #cremposting #shardposting #kaladin stormblessed #shallan davar #adolin kholin #shakadolin #stormlight fanfic #ao3 fanfic snippet #I can't believe I'm actually linking something to my ao3 for the first time *takes deep calming breath*#its cosmerely an obsesh wound

14 notes · View notes

pendragon-writes · 2 years ago

Text

Honey Ceilings and Stranglers

Chapter 3

Chapter 5

Steven was tidying up the room he was to be staying in for the next few weeks, placing his two alarm clocks next to the bed to wake him up the next morning so that he wouldn't forget. He also placed his books on Egyptology. As he exited the bathroom with a garbage bag he felt something drip onto his shoulder, looking up he realized the substance was honey. He decided to check out what was the cause of the leak by heading upstairs to the roof, where he saw (Y/n) sitting in front of some bee combs, a lamp illuminating it as the city of New York made itself present with its noise.

"Um, are you aware that honey is dripping through the ceiling?" He asked (Y/n), now taking notice of the bee hives that had a transparent wall showcasing all the bees inside. "Yes. Happens sometimes." He replied. "I take it beekeeping is a hobby," Steven said, looking a bit closer at the hive but not too close. "I'm writing a book. Practical Handbook of Bee Culture with Some Observations Upon the Segregation of the Queen." Steven looked at him with confusion. (Y/n) pointed to his head. "Up here. I've just started Chapter 19. Would you like to hear the last few paragraphs?"

"Did you talk to the police about that scary administrator guy?" Steven asked, wrapping his arms around himself to keep his body warm. "I have not." He admitted. "But I thought that.." Steven started but was disrupted by the other man. "Mr. Polk is a prat, no doubt, but his body language said 'sub, not 'dom'," (Y/n) explained, sitting up from his chair and turning to Steven. "I don't see him having the backbone to take another life." Steven thought to himself after hearing that before looking back at the bees. "Why do you suppose you hate your job so much?" (Y/n) asked. Steven shrugged before answering. "I don't hate my job."

"You have two alarm clocks." (Y/n) stated. "No one with two alarm clocks loves their job." "Two alarm clocks means it's a chore for you to get up in the morning." He said as he looked at Steven. "You don't hate what I do, though." "That much was obvious when we talked to Mr. Polk." Steven blinked at (Y/n) as he let him continue. "There was a look on your face." "I imagine it was the same look you wore to the O.R. when you were still a surgeon." "You're wrong," Steven said with slight amusement.

"I know my father secured your services for the next six weeks?" He asked, wanting to be sure he was correct. To which Steven nodded. "The simple truth is, I don't need you." He said to Steven. "I'm finished with drugs. I won't be using them again." The wind slightly increased, not too much but enough to slightly sway Steven's hair. "My advice? Take a six-week holiday." He said with a light smile. "I promise I won't tell Papa." He finished leaning slightly toward Steven before walking past him, back into the warmth of his house. Steven continued to stand there for a couple of moments to ponder what (Y/n) said before heading inside and going to his temporary bed.

°。°。°。°。°。°。

The next day came the sun shined brightly against the window, lighting up the room. Steven turned around on the bed, turning his head towards the window to look at his clock. When he fully turned around and rubbed his eye he realized his alarm clock was no longer plugged in. This greatly alarmed the man as he stood up and walked over to his other clock. When he got to the other clock he realized the batteries were removed entirely. He walked to grab his phone and saw a text that read 'Police Station', which he got from his client, (Y/n) Holmes. He sighed at this and decided to get ready to leave.

°。°。°。°。°。°。

Steven walked into the Station, passing by a police officer as he stopped at the gated door where (Y/n) was on the other side, looking through a file. "I'm going to need your saliva now." He said sternly. (Y/n) turned around with a bit of a jump in his chair, face showing slight amusement. He checked his watch before turning to Steven once more. "10;37. I take back everything I said last night. You obviously love your job." Steven went through his messenger bag to look for the kit to do the saliva test with. "Couldn't wait to get started this morning." (Y/n) finished, standing up from the chair and walking to him, opening the door to let the man in.

Steven walked into the cramped room and stood next to the table, looking at (Y/n). "Open your mouth so I can swab it. If you're on anything, the strip on this cup will turn blue." Steven explained. "I have a-" (Y/n) started, before being interrupted by Steven swabbing his mouth. "I have a new theory about our killer." (Y/n) said, watching Steven put the swabbing stick into the cup. "I think he may have struck at least once before." "I--- who love what I do-- woke up early and couldn't stop thinking about the ring box he stole from Amy Dampier's living room." (Y/n) said. Steven in return only gave him a stern look, looking at his watch before shaking the cup. "You said it was some sort of trophy." Steven reminded.

"And you know what flavor of killers takes trophies, don't you?" (Y/n) said. Steven just looked at him but didn't answer. "Serial. Souvenirs help them differentiate between victims." (Y/n) answered for him. "It occurred to me that if Amy wasn't our killer's first, though, there might be other cases in common." The consultant briefly looked through the papers and photos before grabbing the photo of a women's bruised neck. "Eileen Renfro." He said, holding up the photo to Steven. "Savagely beaten and strangled by an intruder in her Bronx home two years ago." "He took a jewelry box on his way out, but left behind a size 11 footprint." Steven continued to look at the drug test before looking at (Y/n) when he saw the results were negative. "Drug-free. Congratulations."

"Especially striking-- the physical similarities between her and Amy." (Y/n) said. "Both were curvaceous with long red hair." Steven looked down at the photo before looking at (Y/n). "You think the killer has a type?" He asked. "The one significant differences in the cases... Eileen Renfro survived her attack."

°。°。°。°。°。°。

"I'm sorry," Eileen said, looking at the photo in front of her. "I can see why you think it might be the same guy." She turned to look at Steven before looking at (Y/n). "I just don't think I can help you." "We know from the police report that the man who assaulted you wore a mask." (Y/n) said, standing across from Eileen and Steven, hands resting on the chair in front of him. "That doesn't mean you can't help us identify him." "Did he say anything to you?" (Y/n) asked. Eileen said no and shook her head. "I came in through my front door, and he was just... there." "Did he have a particular scent?" (Y/n) asked. "Uh... I don't think so." She said a bit confused by the question. "Was he tall, short, somewhere in between?" Steven looked at (Y/n) before looking at Eileen as she responded. "I don't know. I mean, he was on top of me so quickly, his hands were around my throat." She said, messing with the crucifix necklace she was wearing. "And what about the mask?" He asked. "What about it?" She asked, her tone slightly aggravated as she fidgeted with her crucifix necklace. "Was it ski, Mexican wrestling, paper plate?" "Ski." She said.

"Good. Excellent." He said, walking towards Eileen. "So, you got a good look at his eyes." (Y/n) said, kneeling down in front of the woman. "Oh, correct me if I'm wrong but a-a strangler can, literally, not be more than an arm's length from his stranglee, can he? That's what? Two?" He said, positioning his arms to the one of a strangler. "Mr. Holmes." Steven tried to interrupt, but couldn't as the said man continued to talk. "I'm twice that distance from you now. I can see that your eyes are a lovely brown." Eileen licked her lips in nervousness before replying. "I think I'd like you to leave now."

"Why? 'Cause I know that you're lying?" (Y/n) asked, resting his hands on his knees. "Mr. Holmes!" Steven said in a scolding tone. "No. She is." (Y/n) stated, before pointing to her crucifix necklace. "You can tell by the crucifix. You fiddle with it every time I ask you a question." "It's-it's a pacifying behavior." "It's just elementary haptic communication." "Just read a book, would you?" he said in a harsher tone to Steven. "She did see her attacker's face." "(Y/n)!" Steven yelled but was ignored as (Y/n) continued to talk. "I think she might even know who he is!"

"Get out," Eileen said in a quiet yet angry manner. "You realize that because you protected him two years ago, you have the blood of an innocent woman on your hands, don't you?" (Y/n) said. "Perhaps you'd like to go for two or three or four." This statement made Steven stand up in anger as he yelled at (Y/n). "That's enough!" (Y/n) looked up at Steven in light shock. "You're done here. Go wait in the car." Steven ordered. (Y/n) stood up from his crouching position and exited Eileen's house.

Steven sat back down on the chair once he was out of the house. "What a jerk!" Eileen said. "I'm... I'm really sorry about that." Steven started, his tone softer. Eileen looked at him before smacking her lips and looking at her lap.

Once a few minutes passed Steven walked back to the car where (Y/n) was leaning against, arms crossed over his chest, a small pout on his lips. "The name of the man who attacked her is Peter Saldua," Steven announced, going to (Y/n)'s side to lean against the car. "He was her brother's best friend growing up. His father was abusive, so her parents took him in his senior year of high school." He explained to the pouting man. "Eileen heard from her brother he works for a florist in Chelsea." (Y/n) smirked slightly at this newfound information.

"I knew it. I knew that if I started a row in there, you'd come to her defense, and if you came to her defense, she might very well tell you the truth." Once hearing this Steven stopped leaning against the car to fully look at him. "You are so full of it." In response to that he gave him a 'Me? Never' look as he called Captain Gregson. "Captain Gregson this is (Y/n) Holmes, I'm calling because I believe I've uncovered the name of a strong suspect," He turned to face Steven before continuing. "In the murder of Amy Dampier."

"The name wouldn't be Peter Saldua by any chance, would it?" The captain asked over the phone, behind him was a detective looking at the walls. "How did you know?" (Y/n) asked. "'Cause I'm at his house and I'm looking at him right now," Gregson informed. "Are you saying he's in police custody?" He asked in confusion. "Technically, yeah." Gregson said, looking down at the dead Peter Saldua, his head bleeding and a gun held limply in his hand. "He's all ours."

Taglist: @god-complex-12

#More Lies Ahead that Eccentric Man #steven grant x male reader #male reader #x male reader

15 notes · View notes

homoose · 4 years ago

Text

A Timely Reminder

Summary: Prof!Spencer has been thinking about having sex in his office for a while now. Reader helps him make it happen.

Pairing: Spencer Reid x fem!reader

Category: smut, 18+ (minors DNI)

Warnings/Includes: established relationship, exhibitionism, light sub!spencer (but really just whipped!spencer), oral (fem receiving), penetrative sex, dirty talk, insecure!reader, jealous!reader, loud af!spencer, v light hand over mouth action

Word count: 4k

a/n: Because this Tuesday has been hot garbage... have a treat. An anon asked me if reader was a switch... here’s your answer. Also because we already got to see Spencer be jealous af, we deserved to have jealous reader, too. ♥️

a/n 2: This is a companion to the latest chapter of my series, but it can mostly stand alone! All you need to know is it’s an established relationship and she’s been invited to visit him at the university.

Series Masterlist

———

Y/N watched from her seat outside his office as a student slipped out through Spencer’s half-open door— looking positively dreamy. She barely resisted the urge to roll her eyes as the next girl stepped in the office.

It took another twenty minutes for the final two students to finish their visits. When the last coed made her way out the door and down the hall, Y/N stood and smoothed down the skirt of her dress. She crossed the hallway and peered into his office, knocking on the door frame.

Spencer raised his head with a panicked look, his face softening into relief when he saw it was her. “Hey. Close the door,” he begged.

Y/N stepped into his office and closed the door quietly behind her. She finally took a look around the space— fairly small but tastefully decorated. The wall across from her was one enormous bookcase, filled to capacity, of course. Light filtered in from a single window, and his mahogany desk sat on the far wall, accompanied by a wingback leather office chair. Behind his desk was a low shelf lined with a globe, some other trinkets, and a plethora of picture frames.

“Sorry that took so long.” He ran a hand over his face. “I don’t know why my office hours are always so busy.”

She hummed, crossing to the gigantic bookshelf. “No?”

“No,” he confirmed exasperatedly. “No one else has that many students at their office hours. I asked.”

She laughed a little. “You asked?”

“Well, yeah.” He drew his brows together. “I don’t know if my syllabus is confusing, or if I’m— not clear enough in my lectures, maybe?” He ran both hands through his hair and leaned back in his chair. “But there are always so many questions, and I mean— there are no stupid questions, but…” He sighed. “Sometimes the questions are stupid.”

She did laugh at that, full and loud. “Well, if my professors looked like Dr. Spencer Reid, I imagine I’d come up with a litany of questions, too. Stupid or otherwise.”

He was quiet, and she ran her finger along the book she was studying rather intently. She felt him moving toward her more than heard it, felt his eyes on her. She couldn’t bring herself to look at him, instead pretending to peruse the titles in front of her.

“Are you— are you jealous?” he asked incredulously.

“No,” she defended, a little too quickly and voice a little too high.

“It’s okay if you are. Jealousy is— it’s a very normal human emotion.” He cleared his throat. “It’s, um— it’s kind of hot, actually.”

She rolled her eyes, but truthfully, his confession made her feel a little bit better. He put a hand on her waist to turn her to face him, and she could feel her cheeks burning— hoped he couldn’t see it. She couldn’t quite meet his eyes, instead staring at a spot on the wall behind his head.

“But you know you have no reason to be, right?” He cupped a gentle hand under her chin, finally brought her eyes to his. “Why would I be interested in girls when I already have a woman?”

He leaned in to press his mouth to hers, soft and sweet. Then his hand was back on her waist and pulling her flush against him, drawing a small gasp from her mouth that had him deepening the kiss with a swipe of his tongue. His mouth was hot and hungry, moving over hers with a quiet desperation. He slid his free hand to the nape of her neck, fisted it in her hair and tugged.

She sucked in a breath and bit a little harshly on his bottom lip, moving a hand up to grasp at his forearm. He pulled out of the kiss to rest his forehead against hers, chest already heaving. His voice was raspy when he warned, “The door doesn’t lock.”

“Okay,” she whispered.

“But I’ve kind of… been thinking about this for a while,” he admitted, dragging the tip of his nose along her cheek.

She swallowed. “Mm, what— what’ve you been thinking about?”

“You, always.” His breath was hot on her ear, and now he had both hands on her hips. He used them to push her gently back into the bookshelf. “But specifically, I’ve been thinking about fucking you in here.”

“Oh,” she breathed, tangling her fingers in the curls at the back of his neck.

“Yeah.” He ghosted his mouth over her neck, dragged his teeth a little to make her shiver. “Would that be okay?”

She tilted her head back to bare more of her neck to him, and he closed his mouth over her pulse point, sucking wetly. He slid his leg between hers, lifted his thigh to press against her, and she could feel her underwear sticking to the wetness already gathering there. Her breath caught in her throat as she ground down on his leg. He sucked hard on her neck before pressing a gentle kiss to the spot and lifting his head to look at her.

“Do you wanna do that?” he asked again.

“God, I— yeah,” she nodded.

He brought his hand up to stroke this thumb along her cheek. “You’re sure?”

The knowledge that he’d been thinking about being with her in this space was more than a little overwhelming. His gaze was earnest and lustful, and she knew he was telling the truth— that she had no reason to be jealous, that he was always thinking of her. His declaration didn’t quite douse the fire of her insecurity, but at least it wasn’t burning quite so hot. And the idea that she could bring this fantasy to life, make sure his head was full of her whenever he sat at his desk or pulled a book off this shelf— that was almost too much. “Yes. Very sure.”

His mouth was on hers almost before she got the words out, his tongue sliding against hers. He brought both hands to the hem of her dress, hiking it up and slipping his hands underneath to grab at her ass, pulling her closer. He turned and walked her backwards toward his desk, bringing their entwined bodies around the corner of it, pushing her back, and half-hoisting her to sit on top.

His warm hands trailed along her inner thighs, pushing up the fabric of her dress and forcing her legs apart. He stepped in between them and attached his mouth to her neck once more, sucking and licking and nipping a path along where her dress cut low in between her breasts.

“What did you think about?” she breathed, winding her fingers into his hair. “What’s your fantasy, professor?” He bit down a little harshly where his mouth had been sucking. “You want me on my knees for you?”

He lifted his head and stepped even closer, bringing his hands to her hips and pulling her ass to the edge of the desk. “No. I want to be the one on my knees.”

With that, he dropped down in front of her, eye level with her pussy. He looked up at her from his place on the floor, laying his hands flat along the tops of her thighs and pushing her dress up to her waist. His fingers hooked into the waistband of her panties, and she lifted her hips to allow him to pull them down.

She watched as he brought them up to his nose, briefly inhaling and then folding them up into a neat square. He opened the bottom drawer of his desk and placed them inside, closing the drawer and then looking up at her from under his lashes. She could barely breathe.

He started at her ankles, taking one gently in his hands and kissing a warm path up to her knee, and then crossing over to the other side and back down.

“So soft,” he murmured, dragging his open mouth along her shin. He ghosted his fingers over her legs, pulling them up over his shoulders and settling in between her thighs.

He pressed featherlight kisses along her inner thighs, and she sucked in a breath as he inched closer to where she really wanted him. “Don’t tease, Spence.”

She could feel his smile against her skin, and she brought her hand up to wrap his curls around her fingers, tugging a little harder than she normally would. “I’m not asking.”

He let out a moan that vibrated across her skin, and she tightened her grip on his hair. She pulled him against her, and finally he sealed his lips around her clit, sucking gently. She closed her eyes and tilted her head back with a soft whine. “Mmhmm, there you go.”

He wrapped his hands over the tops of her thighs, using his grip to hold her even more firmly against his mouth as he sucked and swirled his tongue around her clit. He brought his tongue to a point and flicked it rapidly against her, and she had to bring her other hand to his hair as well, holding tight. “Shit, baby, just like that.”

She used her hands in his hair to hold him still as she rolled her hips against his face, and his quiet groans had her heart flipping in her chest. “Fuck,” she breathed out. “Never met another man who loves eating pussy this much.”

He nodded as best he could between the press of her thighs. “Use your fingers, professor,” she demanded. She smiled when he immediately complied, bringing one hand off where he was holding her against his face and trailing it between her legs. He shifted his mouth back to her clit, circling it with his tongue as he began to press his middle finger into her.

She tightened her grip on his hair and held back a moan. “I said fingers, Spencer. I know you love to drag it out, but we don’t have time.”

He whined but added his index finger, slipping them into her and curling them up immediately. She had to clamp her mouth shut to stifle the moan that threatened to echo off the walls of the office as he began to fuck into her, dragging his fingers against that spot inside her on every out-stroke.

He hummed around her clit as he thrust his fingers inside and then sucked as he dragged them out, over and over and over again, his plush lips covered in her arousal and working magic over her cunt. The sound of how wet she was had them both groaning a little too loud for their current venue, and then she was coming with his name on her tongue.

He didn’t let up after she was finished, still lapping at her entrance and pressing kisses to every inch of her pussy, whining and moaning against her like a man starved. “How are you so good at that, hm?” she gasped. “Had a lot of practice?”

She opened her eyes, slightly unfocused as he worked her to another orgasm, much less intense but still just as good. And then her gaze fell on the shelf behind him, and for the first time she noticed that the picture frames were filled with… her.

She finally tugged him off by his hair when his mouth became too much, and as he pressed gentle kisses to her thighs, she counted eight different framed pictures of the two of them. There were also pictures of him and the team, his mom, and the boys. But the vast majority of them were of her.

There was one of her sipping coffee at Soho— from their first official date there. Another of her smiling against the backdrop of the arboretum. One where she was tucked under his arm with his lips pressed to her cheek. Another still where he was hugging her tight in front of the Smithsonian.

She let out a long breath and then looked down to see him watching her, and her breath caught in her throat. No one had ever looked at her the way he did, and she knew that she really, really had nothing to worry about. “C’mere.”

Spencer scrambled up off his knees, crowding in close and pressing a sloppy kiss to her mouth. Their tongues slid together, and she tasted herself as he brought his clean hand up to her face. Her hands made their way to his ass, pulling him flush against her, and his hips jolted forward and she could feel his erection clear as day. He groaned and rolled his hips against her, and she smiled against his mouth.

“So hard, baby,” she praised, pressing another kiss to his mouth. “You love being on your knees, huh?”

He hummed in confirmation, and she trailed a line of kisses down his jaw, then his neck. When she reached the collar of his shirt, she brought her hands up to loosen his tie. “You were so good for me.” She got the tie undone and dropped it on the desk. Then she popped the first two buttons on his shirt, dragging her mouth along the column of his throat. “You wanna fuck me now?”

“Yes, yes, please.”

She dragged her hands down his chest and began to work on his belt. When that was undone and hanging loose, she popped the button on his trousers and lowered his zipper, then palmed him through his underwear.

“You’re such a pretty boy, Spence,” she breathed. “You know that’s why they come to your office hours, right? Because you’re so pretty.” She squeezed a little where he was so hard and leaking from the tip. “They’re hoping maybe you’ll fuck them over this desk.”

Spencer’s eyes went wide. “Y/N, I would never—”

“I know, baby. I know,” she assured, cupping his cheek in her hand. “You probably never even thought about it.”

“I don’t.” His voice was a little bit desperate, like he was afraid she didn’t believe him. “I only think a-about you. I— I’m always thinking about you, even when I probably shouldn’t be.”

“Mm, I’d say ‘sorry,’ but... I’m really, really not.” She brought her hands to his hips, forcing his trousers and underwear down over his ass to let his cock spring free. “Is that why you’re keeping my panties? To help you out when you’re thinking about me in here?”

“Y-yes.” He watched as she dragged her palm over her slick entrance, and then brought her wet hand to circle around his dick. “Oh my god,” he whispered.

“How do you wanna fuck me? Wanna bend me over your desk?” His fingers dug into her hips as she pumped his cock, and he shook his head. “No? You want me to blow you?” His hips jerked forward into the tight circle of her hand, but he shook his head again. “Then tell me what you want, Spence.”

His flush had traveled all the way down his chest, pretty and red and sweaty. His gaze was settled on her fingers wrapped around his cock. “Can you, um— can you ride me?”

She smiled and then gave him one last stroke and dropped herself off the edge of the desk. She hummed and stepped closer to him, grasping his chin and pulling him down into a hot, possessive kiss. “Should have known you’d want me on top,” she teased.

She leaned down to his desk drawer. “Do you have condoms in here, too?” She opened it and retrieved her panties, wiping off her hand on them and then folding them back up and replacing them in the drawer.

He whimpered at the sight and then fumbled in the pocket of his suit coat, slung over the back of the chair. She raised an eyebrow. “Do you always have one in there?”

“No,” he defended, ripping open the wrapper and rolling it on. “Only when I know you’re gonna be around.”

He moved to sit on the desk, shoving the student essays and extra papers haphazardly out of the way to make room for her. She stepped in between his knees and laughed a little at the way he reached for her. She kissed him quickly before climbing up onto the desk, shifting around him and cursing under her breath. “You’ve picked possibly the most awkward position for this fantasy.”

“We— we can do it another way or— or not at all if—”

“Just—” she put a finger up to his lips “—shut up and make sure I don’t fall off the desk?”

He smiled a little sheepishly and grasped her hips, and she clung to his shoulders as she got situated over top of his lap, her knees on either side of his thighs. He wrapped his arms around her waist to steady her and leaned in to press their mouths together. “Thank you for making this work,” he mumbled.

She kissed him again and then rolled her hips down over his cock, pulling a whine from the back of his throat. She did it again just to tease him, and then reached between their bodies to line him up.

His grip tightened around her waist as she began to sink down on him, and she dropped her forehead to his shoulder. The stretch from this angle was always more intense, and it had her gasping out his name as he bottomed out. He rubbed his hands soothingly over her lower back as she adjusted to the feel of him inside her, pressing gentle kisses to her shoulder and keeping as still as possible.

She finally let out a breath and circled her hips, and Spencer sunk his teeth into her shoulder. “You feel so good, so fucking thick.”

She got into her rhythm quickly, mindful of the fact that she was riding her boyfriend in his office in the middle of the day with an entire university just on the other side of a flimsy door. She worked her hips over his cock, bouncing on him and ignoring the burn in her thighs. She dropped down and he held her hips in place, grinding himself deep. She buried her face in his neck and tried to hold back the obscene moan that threatened to escape.

Spencer didn’t bother to do the same, letting out a groan that reverberated in her eardrums and throughout the small space. She clapped her hand over his mouth and lifted her hips slightly, pulling back to whisper, “Jesus, shh— you’re so loud, Spence. Gonna get us caught.”

His eyes slammed shut and he fucked up into her, whining underneath her hand. Her eyes widened a little as he continued moaning into her palm. She rolled her hips down hard, forcing him deep, and he cried out again.

“You want that?” she asked. “You want somebody to hear us? Want them to know you’re fucking me in here?”

He didn’t answer, just gripped her hips a little tighter and used what little leverage he had to thrust his hips roughly into her. She kept her hand over his mouth and leaned forward, partially to bring her lips closer to his ear and partially to find that perfect angle. “You want them to know I belong to you?”

He whined pathetically against her hand, and she circled her hips and kept him deep, moaning quietly into his ear. “Or is this about who you belong to?”

She felt his dick twitch where it was buried inside her, and he nodded frantically. She began to rock her hips forward and back, her breath hitching. “Is that why you have all these pictures of me?” she asked, and she saw his eyes shift to the shelf behind her.

“You don’t think about fucking them, but they think about you.” She punctuated the thought with a slow roll of her hips. “You want them to know that you’re mine?”

He brought his eyes back to hers, and there was a softness there that made her chest ache. She removed her hand to cover his mouth in a kiss, and he brought his hands up to cup her face, licking into her mouth and trying desperately to prove his loyalty.

She broke out of the kiss and rolled her hips again. He kept one hand on her face and moved the other to wrap around her dress and keep her seated. She threw her head back as he rocked his hips to have his cock bumping against that spot inside her. He repeated the motion, bringing her closer to orgasm with every shift of his hips.

She came with another gasp of his name, riding out her high and clenching around him. He pressed his mouth to her neck, kissing and sucking at the exposed skin. She continued the movement of her hips, working her sensitive cunt over his cock. “I don’t think they’re taking the hint, professor. Did you want to give them another reminder?”

He nodded, surging up to kiss her and then planting his feet to help drive himself up into her. She wrapped her arms around his shoulders and leaned forward into him as his hips began to falter. He grasped her ass and gave one final rough thrust, whining high and long into her mouth as he came.

She began to press soft kisses to his nose, his cheek, his jaw. He wrapped his arms back around her waist and then hugged her close, panting into her neck as he came down. She rubbed one hand over his back and smoothed the other over his curls, gently twirling the hair at the back of his neck. He gave her one more squeeze before loosening his arms and lifting his head, his eyes dazed and practically sparkling.

“Wow,” he breathed.

She laughed. “I can tell you that this is not where I thought I’d end up today.” She lifted off of him and clutched a little at his arms as she navigated off the desk. She sucked in a breath as her feet made it to the floor, her knees and thighs already screaming. “I bet your fan club wouldn’t be this sore,” she joked.

He grabbed her hand and pulled her back towards him, bringing his free hand up to brush her hair back. “There’s nothing to bet on, because that’s never going to happen.” He cradled her face in both hands. “You know that, right?”

She covered his hands with her own, rubbing her thumbs over the soft skin. “I know.”

“Good.” He leaned forward to press their mouths together, unbelievably soft and sweet in comparison to the way it had been just a few minutes ago. “I love you the most.”

“Agree to disagree,” she whispered. She pressed one more kiss to his lips and then stepped out of his embrace. “Now, put that thing away before we actually do get caught.”

He gaped at her, fighting a grin as he tied off the condom and tucked himself back into his pants. She retrieved his tie from where she had discarded it earlier and dragged it from her knee all the way up to her inner thigh under her dress, cleaning herself up as much as she could.

She lifted her head to see him staring at her, his mouth hanging open. “You don’t mind, do you? I figured it was an even trade since you’re keeping my underwear.” She dropped the messy tie into her bag and draped the strap over her shoulder, tilting her head innocently.

He lunged forward to crash their mouths together, and she clutched at his waist. “You are so fucking hot,” he mumbled, nipping at her bottom lip.

“Mmhm, and don’t you forget it.”

“I’m literally incapable of forgetting it.” He kissed her again. “Thank fuck.”

She laughed and used a light hand to push him off her, taking a second to take stock of his appearance. She fixed the tuck of his shirt and smoothed a few rogue curls back into place. He looked decidedly fucked out, sweaty and flushed all the way down his chest, his sleeves rolled up and the top two buttons still undone… and she couldn’t bring herself to be bothered.

He held his hand out to her and smiled radiantly when she accepted it and laced their fingers together. “I was thinking we could get a late lunch?” he offered.

“Sounds perfect.”

He grabbed his suit coat and his bag, and they crossed to the door together. He opened it and allowed her to step out into the hallway, following close behind. She swung their hands a little as they made their way down the hall. “That was so fun. Thanks for letting me come.”

Spencer choked on air, looking surreptitiously around the hallway. She laughed brightly and squeezed his hand. “Funny how you’re so modest all of a sudden. Thanks for letting me come visit, professor.”

They walked out together into the quad, hand in hand, and with more than one pair of eyes on them.

———

Permanent tags: @spacedikut @andiebeaword @averyhotchner @pinkdiamond1016 @shadyladyperfection @coffeeandendlesswords @justanothetfangirl @no-honey-no @ajeff855 @sapphic-prentiss @rexorangecouny @rainsong01 @blameitonthenight21 @moviequeen51 @90spumkin @reniescarlett @ncsls0515 @daybabyx @sturmmhond @takeyourleap-of-faith @saspencereid @calm-and-doctor @reidtheprettyboy @atabigail @ayo-cowbelly @muffin-cup @ssa-natalya-reid @wheelsup @reidingmelodies @this-is-gublerween @s1utformgg @reidemandweep @sonnydoesrandomshit @rigatonireid @luwheezey @joalsglasses @je-suis-prest-rachel @dr-omalley @spencie-adams @honestimanormalfan @blurryreid @elldell1204 @babyhoneystvles @lost-in-the-stars03

Broken tags: @radtwinkie @archer561 (check your visibility settings!)

#spencer reid smut #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x you #spencer reid x y/n #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid fanfiction #not sfw #homoose writes

1K notes · View notes

dreamrecorder · 4 years ago

Note

Ok so- idk if you’ve seen demon slayer;; but there’s this episode (it was during the spider fambam arc) aNywaYs- so like. Rui yeets ties* (i guess-) Nezuko like. Up in the air. With his weird spider thread jazz— and like. It’s sHarP weird spider thread jazz— so she’s like. Yknow. Being sliced and diced with string— but it kindaaa reminds me of like. Xiao. And his like.... weird... sad.... uh. Karma. Thing. Like y’know where he’s like hanging from his arms- red stuff. Yeah. So like. Now for the actual request

Xiao’s s/o (female if you don’t mind;;) gets kidnapped by like— the fatui or smth. And they tie her up like Nezuko :D to be like “lol haha Xiao be all like-” and she’s just. Like. Dying. Slowly. Dripping b l o o d and yknow. All the tea. And Xiao comes to rescue her— and he’s like 0-0 “wait...” and he realizes that’s like- exactly what happens to him- and so. He beats the fatui’s butts saves his s/o, anddddd she like.

Idk. This is where I need your angst expertise ❤️ like- she could d i e. In his arms. And poor Xiao would be so scarred omg poor thing- BUT THE ANGST- but at the same time;;;; the f l u f f of him being able to save her just in time and she was like fighting for him the whole time or whatever and ended up needing him to save her anyways- and then Xiao feeding her almond tofu until she gets better ❤️❤️❤️

IM SORRY THAT WAS SO LONG- im probably going crazy from lack of sleep from reading fics for too long sndndnsnsj

But if you do this,,, BLESS YOUR SOUL I HOPE TO EITHER BALL MY EYES OUT OR SQUEAL FROM THE WHOLESOMENESS-

Anyways.... thank you! Have a stellar day~ ✨❤️

The heart yearns and the wind heard

lmao this ask is so adorable i hope you’d enjoy this ksks

anyway, full Angst train up ahead but there are moments of Fluff too. There are mentions of blood and violence if those are not your thing- dont worry guys, this goes with a happy ending cos you and Xiao deserve one~ on a final note- non canon compliant and suuuuuuper long- like- legit this is very long

The Yaksha sighs.

He’s here again. His mind and heart has returned his being into this crimson world his demons have created within him.

He feels it. He feels the corruption binding him tighter again for every death he brings by his tainted hands.

He looks at his bindings. And ever so slowly, the red and black coiling around his person will eventually reach his heart.

One day, he thinks, all this crimson and black in this world will swallow him whole and he will see the light no more.

Xiao sighs again.

This is his karmic debt.

The moment you stepped foot within Wangshu Inn, you knew he was in his prison again. After giving a quick greeting to the inn keeper, you hastily went to Xiao’s room. The closer you got, the heavier the atmosphere became.

You reached his door and knocked softly. As expected, no reply as he continues to struggle to take back his control over himself. Without hesitation, you stepped in. To anyone else, they would have instantly met his spear at their throats, but with you, this doesn’t happen. Instead, you see him crouched on the wooden floor with a hand on his chest. His knuckles were white and his breathing was ragged. His amber eyes- lost. Observing his form, yes… his moments of corruption are becoming progressively worse.

With swift steps of familiarity to this routine, you went to him and grasped his shoulders.

“Xiao, it’s me…” You whispered with clarity. And oh- how your voice brought a wave of comfort to his soul.

“N-name…” His voice cracked, but him calling to you is always a good sign.

You gave him a small smile and proceeded to grasp his hands together with yours. After which, you then leaned your forehead to his to chant your prayers. As your prayers progressed, slowly but surely, the corruption begins to fade along with the black mist that covered him. However, you took note how this ritual took longer than the last.

Once everything is done, Xiao just slumped onto your shoulders, still breathing deeply. “How are you feeling?” It was a useless question you asked every time this happens, but you always, always, have to make sure.

Usually, he would mutter a small ‘fine,’ but now- words seemed to have left his mind and all he could muster was an almost-unnoticeable shrug.

Truth be told- his response disheartened you, but you did not show it. Instead, you opted to simply encase him in your arms and caress his hair. After all, these are just one of the few, rare moments Xiao would leave himself into your care. Xiao is aware, himself, that his state has been becoming worse and worse. And you both know, that a day would come when he would just attack anyone- friend or foe- without a trace of hesitation. So, just this time- he speaks his feelings.

“Name?”

You answered immediately with a questioning hum.

“What would you do… when I finally lose control over myself?”

It was very subtle, but he felt how your hand stopped caressing his hair for a second, then proceeded to the previous task at hand again. In all honestly, you can never find yourself having an answer to that question. “And why would I ever let that happen to you?” You questioned back, fully aware that you were dodging his question.

Silence surrounded the two of you, unsure on what to do with the sudden heavier atmosphere.

Not wanting to face the cruelty of the world yet, Xiao simply buried himself on the crook of your neck even more. And despite the ghostly sensation of his lips on your skin, you could feel him mouth the words ‘I love you.’

“As long as I’m here,” you whispered, “nothing can hurt you.” And that was the most beautiful lie that the Yaksha has heard, but he was willing to believe all the same.

When word about Fatui diplomats starting a bank reached you, there was a nagging feeling in your head that trouble would bring itself present anytime soon. It was like an itch that wouldn’t get away. And the only way to have that itch gone is to scratch it.

“You are absolutely a fool.” Xiao stated darkly with crossed arms, for once disagreeing with the plans of his master.

“We can never know what their intentions are unless we let them start their bank, no?” Zhongli said as he gazed at the marsh spread beneath him.

The Yaksha only scoffed but said no more.

Building up your courage, you deemed it was your turn to voice out your thoughts, “Um… Rex Lapis, I see your point, but wouldn’t it be best to resolve the problem before it persists into something larger? We all know- All of Teyvat knows, that the Fatui are not to be trusted.”

Your archon offered you a kind smile, “I understand your worries, Name. However, as of the moment, they have not presented themselves as such. If they truly are our enemies, then it would be beneficial for us to know their intentions.”

You frowned deeply at his statement. Seeing you do so, somehow, your archon immediately identified your main concern.

“Is this about the Tianquan assigning you to be her representative for the Fatui?”

The moment those words left his mouth, a growl tore from Xiao’s throat, but he held his tongue.

“Did Ganyu tell you?”

The Archon nodded and you sighed.

“I volunteered, actually.”

And at that point, Xiao vanished into thin hair, but you could still his sense his presence around.

“May I know why?” Zhongli questioned gently.

For a moment, you struggled for words. You didn’t know how to describe this ‘itch’ to him. “At first, it was supposed to be Ganyu, since in the Tianquan’s eyes- Ganyu is an adeptus and she does not know that I am, too. Perhaps she didn’t want to put me in harm’s way, a ‘visionless human’ at the side of a harbinger. After some convincing to Ningguang for my volunteering, I spoke to Ganyu next.

“The adepti are divine beings that walk here in Liyue. I had this feeling that putting a divine next to a power-hungry harbinger would become an issue. I told Ganyu that, since I looked ‘harmless’ and ‘ordinary,’ the harbinger’s interest about the divine would never surface.”

A stretch of silence wrapped around them as Zhongli pondered over your words. “Perhaps, are you also planning to dig out the truth of their arrival?”

You nodded, “I knew you would allow them to stay, so I just took it upon myself to unfurl their secrets.”

“Hmmm… I grant you permission on doing this. However, should trouble arise, do not hesitate to tell us.”

The glare pointed at you was strong. Even without him saying a single word, you could hear his phantom voice in your head speak with such coldness, What are you thinking?

You simply gave him a reassuring smile, “I’ll be fine, Xiao. I may be a human in mortal eyes, but please do remember that I am also an adeptus, no matter how weak I am.”

Xiao releases a huff, but still sits by your side at the floor of the balcony, letting the moon kiss his skin. “You’re not weak.” He mumbled as he snaked his hand to yours.

To him, you will never be weak. In fact, you were the strongest being he has ever laid his eyes on. Not physically, no. It was you mental and emotional fortitude. Back during the Archon War, he always admired how you kept your head held up high no matter the suffering you have experienced. No matter how much death surrounded you, you still fought. And that strength made you a survivor. During the war, you never failed to help the wounded. Even when someone dies under your care, you held strong for the departed and for those who are left behind. You were a pillar of hope.

He brings your hand to his lips and kisses every knuckle “… Just be careful. If ever you are in trouble do not-“

“Hesitate to call your name.” You finished, beaming at his words.

As someone who used to be a healer and a doctor, you were quite familiar with several mild skin diseases that mortals can suffer from.

If there is an itch, you do not scratch it- for you will only aggravate the area even more.

Now that you’re working alongside the Fatui as the Tianquan’s representative, the itch you kept feeling was only irritated more. Especially whenever you spoke with the Harbinger who goes by the name Childe. And since your work requires you to cooperate with him, you also don’t miss the chance to discover what he hides, should the opportunity presents itself.

Childe… his azure eyes certainly have their… charm to those unaware. However, you knew better. You know he’s capable of drowning you just by his eyes. While he may be a cheerful man, his eyes lack the lustre of joy. The eyes are the windows of the soul, yes? If so, all you see is an unending ocean that you do not want to swim in. The surface may be calm, but the deep is relentless. However, duty bound you are- deep within the ocean, you shall find the secrets the Fatui hides.

Again, another scratch to the itch, but it only irritates you more.

The news of Rex Lapis’s death became the catalyst of you confronting the Harbinger. From Yujeng Terrace all the way to Northland Bank, you ran (with Ningguang’s permission of course). Before you can even open the door to his office, something caught your eye.

It’s faint, but you’re an adeptus. You sensed elemental traces, just smack bang at the middle of the door. You carefully scrutinized the tracings, and fortunately you knew Snezhnayan script. And what you read only made your heart sink.

It’s ready.

With the adeptal arts, you managed to uncover the origins of these elemental tracings.

Scratch.

Without hesitation, you followed these tracings until it led you into some ruins.

Scratch.

Following the tracings further, you find yourself in a dimly lit room. Wary, you summoned your weapon imbued with your element.

Scratch.

Searching the room, you came across several antique boxes. You opened them.

Scratch.

What you saw were familiar. Too familiar. Dimming the room more with your element, you find more Sigils of Permission hanging on the walls and on the ceilings. The energy within them were faint, but with enough numbers, it’s enough to kill a-

“Well, well well, I thought you’d be there mourning for your Archon. But here you are, snooping around someone else’s research material.”

The sound of his voice made you sharply turn your head to him, your stance now more offensive. “What are you planning?” You bit coldly.

The Harbinger hummed a small tune, “Nothing much… But! If you’re really curious, I guess I could tell you.” He hummed some more but you knew he’s not finished. Once he finished his tune, he grinned to you menacingly and the depths in his eyes became even deeper and darker, “After all, I won’t let you leave this place with you knowing my secret~”

There was this one time, Xiao struggled against himself so much, he scratched himself red so that he could anchor himself back to the real world. You remembered how much you cried as he slept in your arms. You never wanted to see him do that again. Seeing him hurt himself also hurt you, too. It was like a stab in the heart, then a twist, and twist some more. A slap in the reality that you might lose him one day.

As he slept, you solemnly observed the wounds he sustained himself to. They were angry red, just like blood.

Now, you, yourself scratched that itch in your head too much into a wound for blood to seep through. You scratched too much and now you have to bleed from it.

You were slipping in and out of consciousness. Sleep was tempting you more and more but you know you have to wake up. You were aware that this is going on for days.

Everything hurts. You remembered how his blades, imbued with the Sigils, weakened you thoroughly. Every slash he brought to your body just drained the energy away from you. But still you had to do something.

He wanted an adeptus- he wanted an adeptus in order for the Sigils to grow stronger both in number and in power.

Now here you are, bound by chains and suspended at the middle of this empty room. These chains were adorned by talismans that drained away your energy. You were bleeding from your wounds of your previous battle.

Drip. Drip. Drip goes the blood and pools on the ground underneath you. The ground, you barely noticed, was lined by Liyuean script which enacts the ritual of the Sigils draining your divine power from your blood.

To the eyes of a sadist- you were a picture perfect in a canvas. A dark room lined by the damned Sigils, glowing an eerie gold. Then there's you with your bloodied clothes and chains. The red pool underneath was casting a red glow on your way, giving you a red shade to your pale skin.

Everything hurts-

And everything was driving you mad.

You can also feel the Overlord of the Vortex feed from your energy through the Sigils. You sensed his lust for power and revenge. You felt his anger and the corruption within him. You felt his hatred and his want to bring death. For days that felt like years, you’ve been battling against that very same god in your head. This battle was not something you shall not lose to and failure is not an option. If you fail here, then Liyue will fall.

This god- he was driving you mad slowly.

If ever you are in trouble, do not hesitate to call my-

You shut the thought from your head. You are not going to call him. You will not speak of him. You will not think of him. You will not call him. Not to this place where his corruption will grow. No. You Will Not Call Him.

If it means that me not calling you will keep you safe from the corrupted remnant of a god- so be it.

Please

However, no matter how much you denied yourself to call his name, no matter how much your heart yearns to be with him- the wind does not ignore the pained sob that left your lips.

Ever since the news of Rex Lapis's death and the visit of the Traveler with a Sigil in his hand- the corruption within him just bloomed into something feral.

The Sigil- there was something wrong about it but Xiao doesn't know what is it that is wrong. Then there's you- where are you? Surely with the news of their Archon's death- it would send you to bring forth a meeting for the adepti to talk this over. But now- for days- you remain not by his side.

With you missing- the demons inside him are slowly taking control over him, taking advantage of his vulnerability for you. For each passing day, it was slow torture for him- The worry bubbling in him was consuming him. He glared at the Sigil between his fingers and not failing to notice how his dark aura covers him once more.

“Traveler,” Xiao called sharply, “What is it you intend to do next?”

To any mere mortal, the look his eyes held were enough to strike fear, but the Traveler stealed themselves- meeting the adeptus’s gaze with an equally serious calm. “I have my suspicions on a certain harbinger and I-”

“Where?” The Yaksha growled.

“In the Golden House.”

Without a word nor warning, Xiao placed a hand on the Traveler’s shoulder and teleported them to the place where the Exuvia is hidden.

To the Traveler, everything happened so quickly as one event led to another. One moment, they were standing among unconscious bodies of the Millelith then the next thing they knew a corrupted and demonic gust of wind flew them away to the side. Regaining back their vision, they could see Alatus’s spear now at Tartaglia’s barrier made of Sigils.

Alatus narrowed his eyes at the floating talismans and began to calculate the flow of this incoming battle with precision and accuracy despite his losing control over himself.

It was a tense minute of sizing each other up, but eventually, Tartaglia has broken the silence with his annoying innocent voice.

“Who would have thought that I’d have the honor of fighting another adeptus of Liyue?”

The question immediately fed the corruption within him, the dark aura exploding at it. He knew that he should not believe in the Harbinger’s words so easily, but the glint in the latter’s eyes held truth. You could be out there, hurting, scared, alone. You could be out there, bleeding out. You could be out there dyi-

His aura exploded once more at the thoughts spreading in his being. With a burst of unspeakable power, Alatus lifted his weapon and pierced the barrier once more, this time breaking it without failure. At the threat, Tartaglia backed away as he donned his mask.

In a similar fashion, Alatus, too donned his mask. “I will ask you once,” the Conqueror of Demons spoke with a deathly calm, “Where is she?”

He should have killed him then and there. But the call of the Overlord of the Vortex must not be ignored as it threatens Liyue.

In the small opportunity of escape, Childe took it. But he was weak and injured as Alatus swiftly threw his spear to block his way and teleported right in front of him. In a show of power, the Conqueror of Demons lifted the mortal by the neck.

“I will ask you again, where is she?”

In fear, Childe told him everything and at his every word, Xiao listened carefully- never speaking once. But the anger within his heart, it boils- it rages. His amber eyes bored into Childe’s soul- thinking what he should do to this mortal. Oh how killing him would be so nice. However, when the Yaksha’s gaze landed on the regal form of the Exuvia, he merely threw the mortal in its way.

“Killing you would have been easier. However, the crimes you have presented against Liyue are not mine for me to judge.

I leave the Harbinger to you... Rex Lapis.”

Once out of the Golden House, the Overlord roared once more, shaking the lands of the nation. However, along with it, he heard the faintest of voices. I’m so sorry... I couldn’t hold him back anymore.

Only then did the demons in his heart freely took control of him. Just like the stories of old, where the Yaksha walks, death follows. But they were no stories. In his way towards the ruins where you were held captive, every step he took brought carnage and even more death and blood to taint his hands. No Fatui will leave this place alive. The very being of destruction ended many lives. Each death, the demons were growing stronger.

All he wanted now was to kill kill kill kill kill kill kill kill kill kill killkillkill killkill kill killkillkillkillkillkillkillkillkillkill

Then seeing you suspended in the ceiling and bound by chains. Blood was painted on your lifeless skin. Wounds were littered and bruises were blooming on your form. But most of all, your eyes. What were once full of life and hope- now empty and blank. His demons quieted down.

Broken. You were like a broken porcelain doll.

“N-name...” His voice cracked, not believing it all.

With haste, he quickly broke your binds and caught you in his arms. he was fast to check for your pulse and your breathing. And thank the Archons, you were breathing but barely. You were now walking the line between life and death. With all his might yet a gentle caress, he hugged you for dear life. “Name... It’s me...”

But still, your eyes still held no recognition and it shattered his heart to pieces. With further inspection, he sensed the presence within you. A corruption. A certain evil.

“Name, stay with me please,” Xiao begged with desperation as he fought back tears. “It’s me who supposed to be the corrupted one between us, not you... I’m not allowing you to leave me, you hear me-”

With a ritual of the adeptal arts, he started purging and purifying the evil left by the god who fed from you. He is not letting you stay alone in your prison, not for a second longer.

Xiao prays and he never prayed before. Even to his master. But just this once, He prays with desperation. You are the light in his darkness. You are the moon in his night.

The ritual was a delicate process. For every word he spoke, he was rewarded by your screams of pain and the writhing of your fragile body. He wanted to stop, but he can’t. He had to physically restrain you from trying to escape from his embrace and from hurting yourself. And for every cry you released, Xiao merely shuts his eyes clos just for him not to see your pained eyes. Every now and then, Xiao speaks gentle apologies and words of encouragement for you. You were coming back. But still, the evil persists.

You writhed and scratched against him, until you were creating more wounds for blood to seep through. When it came to a point, you began pleading and begging for him to stop, that was when Xiao had shed a tear. So he continues the ritual, his prayers, and his apologies. They were arriving to a point where the ritual is reaching its conclusion but your screams only grew louder.

Please, just a little more...

Please, just stop...

Please...

The corruption disintegrated away from you in a forceful release of dark energy. He was breathing deeply, attempting to calm his loud heart. When he placed his gaze on you, you were breathing rapidly and your eyes were searching blindly and your hands were desperately holding onto him.

“X-Xiao...” You whispered, “Where am I? Where are you?”

With a sigh of relief, the Yaksha hugged you again closer and his forehead to yours, fearing you would go away again. The action made you lift your hands to his face, still searching blindly.

“I’m here, Name... I’m here.” At his voice, the dam in your eyes broke as you cried silently. Xiao was not adept in emotions, but for you, he will face them gladly. He lets you cry as he gives you soft whispers of assurance, safety, love, and promises. However, you were not crying because of what had happened to you. You were crying for him. After experiencing such corruption-

You sobbed some more- you were this close to him losing you and you could not bring yourself to imagine if your roles were reversed.

“P-please,” you said with a broken voice, “please don’t go to the place where I can’t follow...’

The words, at first puzzled him, but after a few moments, he realized and once more it broke his heart. Bringing you closer, Xiao let loose the tears he was holding back. With a gentleness unexpected of the Conqueror, he simply littered your face with kisses. “I promise if only you would do the same.”

With your smile that he loved dearly for so long you too spoke your promise, “I do.” They were simply two words, but the comfort they bring into the Yaksha’s heart was in volumes.

After that, you shared a few tender moments in each other’s arms. Simply relishing the feeling of their familiar warmth. A little later, Xiao spoke, “Would you like to eat some Almond Tofu once we get home?”

The question made you giggle at his innocence, so you agreed. Despite you needing physical medical attention. But Almond Tofu with him? Yes, you two definitely need some emotional healing.

A/N: fINALLY dONE lmao this was supposed to be short but angst really makes me want to write longer everytime haha~ anyway this request really made me ponder bout genshin stuff with all the corruption this and corruption that but then a question popped up like-

how did childe replicate the sigil of permission? since sigils are imbued with divine energy, i just thought how did this guy accumulate so much sigils to the point of freeing Osial- a god!!! soooo i just played with the idea for a bit then figured out maybe these pieces of paper get the divine energy from a divine source right? and the adepti are divine beings of liyue and another thing- you guys might have noticed the change of names in some scenes- i dont know but i think somehow different names represents different side of a person like- we have childe the cheerful harbinger then tartaglia the power hungry harbinger- there’s Alatus who’s calculating and cold, there’s the Conqueror of Demons who’s ruthless and unforgiving, then Xiao who is calm and humane- lastlyyyyy i might post this in ao3 ksks

#genshin impact #genshin imagines #genshin scenarios #xiao #genshin xiao #genshin x reader #genshin impact x reader #xiao genshin #xiao x reader #xiao imagines #zhongli #childe #ganyu #ningguang

573 notes · View notes

watchmegetobsessed · 4 years ago

Text

Keys of truth - Harry Styles

❄️ FANFICmas 2020 ❄️

Read more about FANFICmas here!

hiya loves! this was a very sudden idea of mine that i really wanted to write so i made it to be the last fic of fanficmas! thank you for reading my works through the month, i hope you all enjoyed all the content and i hope you’ll stay with me in 2021 as well! this is an exlovers to lovers fic, kind of very emotional so... yeah!

word count: 3.4k

masterlist

You stay in your car for so long the heat that warmed you on your way here has completely disappeared, your fingers are like ice as they still grip the steering wheel. The snow blizzard outside is raging, warning you that if you don’t go inside anytime soon you might get stuck here and that’s the last thing you want: trapped with your ex who you still dearly love.

You can barely see out of the windshield, it’s covered in snow, another sign that your time is ticking, you need to get back home before all roads get snowed in.

“You can do it. It’s just Harry,” you tell yourself, but that’s the problem. It’s Harry who is currently inside, kind of waiting for you to arrive, pack the remaining of your stuff from his house so your breakup can be official.

The burning regret has been making your life miserable in the past few weeks, ever since you said the words and instantly wanted to take them back. But upon seeing his reaction, you decided to be stubborn and don’t show your weakness.

“Can’t this conversation just wait a little longer, please?” he sighed, clearly annoyed that you brought up the same thing for the hundredth time in the past two months. But you just couldn’t help it, you were feeling like you were running out of time and Harry didn’t seem to realize it.

“How can you ask me to put it aside when my lease is ending in January? I need to know how to plan. Why is it so hard to decide if you want me here or not?”

The thought of moving together had come up a few times, but it became a burning question when your lease was nearing its end. You wanted to move in with Harry, something you’ve been planning on for a while, and you thought he did the same. But when you first mentioned it to him, he seemed hesitant, as if he didn’t want it wholeheartedly and that hurt you like Hell, but thought he might had had just a long day. So you agreed to have the conversation another time, but it seemed like no time was suitable for him. He had been dodging your question instantly, trying to get out of it as fast as possible, giving you the feeling that he doesn’t want you around after all.

But it was now the beginning of December, leaving you very little time to look for a new place if he decided he needed his own place. It wouldn’t have bothered you that much, you understand his need for privacy, but at least have the courage to tell you, right? But he didn’t. He kept brushing it off, building the tension in you until one day… you snapped.

“It’s not that easy, Y/N, alright? I asked you to have this discussion later, why can’t you wait a little more?” he snapped right back, growing frustrated as well, but you didn’t think he had the right.

“Wait for what? To make up your mind if you want a future with me or not? If you are hesitant about it, then I think we have a bigger problem on your hands here, Harry,” you retorted, feeling all the rage you’ve kept bottled up erupt from you.

“What does that supposed to mean?” He looks at you with a hard stare and you stand his piercing eyes, not looking away.

“What it means is that… your behavior is making me think that maybe we aren’t heading in the right direction. I thought it was evident that we would move in, but your hesitation is kind of ruining the picture for me.”

“I’m not hesitating, I just asked for some time to smooth some things out!”

“What things? Do you have someone else living with you and you need to get rid of them before I can move in or what?”

“For fuck’s sake, just give me some damn time, Y/N!”

“Well, I don’t think I have any more time.”

He stared at you in disbelief and the words burned your tongue, but there was no turning back now, it was out there.

“For the moving or for me?” he simply asked, no emotion showing on his face and that hurt you more than you expected. You wanted him to panic, to fall to his knees and beg for your forgiveness, but his reaction was so cold and empty, it completely broke your heart.

“I think we both know the answer,” you whispered, feeling the tears building in your eyes already.

You stormed out of his place after a few insults were thrown at each other and now it has been three weeks you officially called it quits. The worst three weeks of your life, if you are being honest. Not one night went by without you crying yourself to sleep, deeply missing Harry. You still love him more than anyone or anything and there were so many times you just wanted to go back to him crawling, but your pride didn’t let you. He seemed just fine to let you go and that was like a stab in your chest, see him so in peace with you walking out. You just couldn’t believe two years went right out the window just like that, after such a ridiculous little thing. You still haven’t been able to figure out why he couldn’t just give you an answer. It would have been painful to hear him tell you he doesn’t want you living with him just yet, but you would have gotten over it eventually. Would have been a lot better ending to the story than this ugly breakup you won’t be able to forget about… ever.

Swinging the door open the cold wind slaps you right across your face, earning some pretty creative curses from you as you lock the car. Snow is everywhere, threateningly falling with no mercy, and you know you need to make it quick.

Marching up to the front door you push the button to the doorbell a little too forcefully, eyes squinting from the blizzard and it feels like your eyelashes are now covered in snow completely.

Then the door opens and there he is, standing tall and just as handsome as always, wearing a pair of grey sweatpants and a knitted sweater, curls a little messy but in the cutest way possible. He looks so cozy and warm, you just want to wrap yourself into his embrace, but you remind yourself that you no longer have the right to be that close to him.

“Hey, come on in,” he greets you with a small smile, holding the door open as you walk inside and he finally shuts the door, keeping the cold outside.

You haven’t seen him since your fight and now it’s like another slap across your face, seeing him in the flesh, looking… fine. As if nothing has happened while you’ve been a nervous wreck these past weeks and it makes the whole situation even more painful.

“Hi. I’ll be quick, I promise,” you tell him clearing your throat as you get rid of your coat and boots, leaving them by the door so you don’t get any mess on any of his rugs. He nods his head quietly following you further inside the house before taking the lead. You’ve thought about this place as a second home for some time now, but now being here as just some kind of guest is heartbreaking, but you try your best not to think about how painful it really is.

“Most things are in the wardrobe, but I think you have quite some books in the study as well,” he says, awkwardly clearing his throat as he walks you into his bedroom he has shared with you oh so many times before.

“Thanks,” you mumble.

“Do you fancy a cup of tea? I can also help you if you want,” he offers, clearly not certain about how he should act now and that makes the two of you, it seems.

“Tea sounds great, but I’ll be fine on my own,” you tell him with a faint smile and he just nods, shuffling out of the room, leaving you alone.

You start going through his spacious wardrobe, collecting all your items you’ve left here through your time with him, and pack them away into the bags you brought with yourself, knowing well you have a lot to take home. You hear Harry starting the kettle outside in the kitchen and you need to take a deep breath so you don’t start crying. You miss him so much. You miss having him around, talking to you, touching you… kissing you. It’s killing you to know that you’ll never have him the way you want and it feels like you can do nothing, but to suffer quietly.

While packing, you find some of the shirts he always gave you when you spent the night, even though you had your own clothes to sleep in. There was just something different to have his shirts on, smell his scent and he also never failed to tell you how much he loves seeing you wear his stuff, so you shamelessly borrowed anything that caught your eyes. For a moment, you debate if he would notice if you took one of his shirts, but then you tell yourself it would be a stupid idea, so you force yourself to leave there everything that’s not essentially yours.

“Here. With a dash of honey, just like how you always drink it,” he smiles at you warmly as he reappears with a steaming mug in his hands.

“Thank you,” you mumble shyly taking the mug from him to have a breather from all the packing.

He stays standing there, just a few feet from you, looking around a little lost, his hands on his hips, as if he is trying to find something to do, but there’s none. It’s the first time you see something in him, something you are not used to, but it’s so masked that you can’t put your finger on it.

“Alright, um… I’ll be in the kitchen if you need any help,” he then says with a tight-lipped smile before walking out and leaving you alone again.

You need a breather once he is gone, you let yourself sit on the edge of his bed, sipping on the tea and you can’t ignore how he used your favorite filter, the one you always made him buy so he had it at his place as well. These thoughtful little things always make your stomach churn, especially now. Because you just can’t put it together with how it all ended. Why would he be this caring and loving man towards you, when he doesn’t want you anymore?

Swallowing down you tears you just sit there until you finish the hot drink and force yourself to stand up and bring the mug out for him. Your feet tap against the hardwood floor quietly and as you are about to turn the corner, you stop hearing his quiet voice coming from the kitchen.

“I can’t, Gems. I can’t fucking do it,” you hear him, his voice muffled and something odd lacing through it. “But it’s so fucking hard!” he snaps after a short silence and you assume his sister told him something through the phone. “I don’t want this…” he breathes out and you realize that he is crying.

He lets out a quiet sob and you dare to step forward and look in his way in the kitchen. He is hunched over with his back facing you, a hand gripping the edge of the counter while the other one his holding his phone to his ear. He looks so broken, like just a ghost of himself, nothing like the unbothered man you saw just a little while ago. Seeing him like this breaks your heart even more and you don’t even know what to do or say, so you just stand there, eavesdropping on his conversation with his sister.

“I don’t know how she would react. You really think it’s a good idea?” he asks, sniffing his nose and his hand flies from the countertop to his face, wiping his cheeks harshly. “I don’t… Fuck, this is so bad, Gems.”

You feel your throat closing up, you are dying to know what Gemma is saying on the other end of the call.

“I know,” he replies to something. “Of course I do. How can I not? This was never supposed to happen.” Another silence. “I fucking know, Gems, but I felt so dumbfounded, I literally couldn’t think straight!”

You suck on your breath, trying your best to put the bits and pieces together. If he is talking about what you think, you are about to break out into sobs any moment.

“Alright,” he sighs, head falling back a little as he is probably blinking away his tears. The urge to just go up behind him and hug his waist, pressing your cheek against his shoulder blades, like you always do whenever he is washing the dishes or making breakfast for the two of you, is getting hard to fight.

He ends the call and before you could even realize, your feet are taking you forward in his direction. Your knee cracks when you take a bigger step and it makes his head snap around. You freeze right where you are, a few feet away from him, holding your empty mug in your hands, staring back at him at a lack of words. Now that he is facing you it’s clear that he was indeed crying, the redness around his eyes and glistening cheeks of his give him away instantly.

“Oh, um, hey. You need help with anything?” he asks, wiping his cheeks again, though there’s no use in trying to hide the signs.

“Harry, what was that about?” you softly ask as he keeps his eyes fixated on the tiled floor in front of him.

“Just… Gemma.”

“What was never supposed to happen?” you ask ignoring how he tried to dodge your question. He draws a shaky breath, looking anywhere but at you and you hate it. You need to see those green eyes on you. So stepping closer you turn his head by his chin so his glassy gaze meets yours.

Harry opens his mouth two times, but closes it until he finally speaks up for the third time.

“There’s something I want to give you,” he tells you, caching you by surprise.

“You didn’t answer me.”

“Just…” he breathes out in defeat. “Let me give it to you, okay? And I’ll answer all your questions after that.”

Silently you nod and watch him shuffle into his bedroom, hearing him open a drawer and then he appears with a tiny box in his hands. It’s deep blue, with a pretty little white bow on top. He gestures for you to sit on the couch with him, so you silently obey and the two of you sit on each sides of his plush couch.

“Here,” he whispers handing you the box. Glancing up at him you try to put the picture together, but you fail to see what this is about so you go ahead and take off the lid.

At first you don’t realize what it is that you are looking at. There is a set of keys on a chain along with a little silver heart, your name engraved into it. A second passes by, then another and you gasp when realization hits you.

“Harry, what is this?” you ask, not really meaning that what’s in the box, because you figured it’s the keys to his place, but you can’t figure out why he just gave this to you.

“I’ve had them made for over two months. Wanted to give them to you on Christmas as a surprise. This was my plan all along and this is why I tried to push the conversation back. There was nothing to talk about, I wanted you here, I just wanted it to be a surprise for you. But then we had that stupid fight and I knew I should have just told you the truth, but I was shocked and couldn’t think properly. I never wanted us to end up like this and when I realized what I did you were already… gone.”

The tears start soaking your cheeks within a moment as you clutch onto the keys for dear life, listening to Harry.

“I was an idiot. I wanted to call you and tell you why I didn’t want to talk about the moving, but then I thought you wouldn’t believe me and say that I was just trying to save what was left of us. Fuck, that was my biggest mistake ever. I haven’t stopped beating myself up about it and I’ve been so miserable without you, Y/N. You can’t even imagine.”

“I think I can,” you choke out with a bitter laugh. “I regretted it the moment I said those words. But I was too proud to admit it and you seemed just fine with it.”

“Oh I was miles away from being fine,” he breathes out, his body falling forward as he leans his elbows onto his thighs. “I didn’t stop crying until like six in the morning, Y/N. After you left, I felt like I had nothing left.”

You sob at his words, putting the keys aside as you crawl into his arms, swinging a leg over him so you can straddle him and sit on his lap. His strong arms curl around your frame instantly, an instinct he has had for a while now and three weeks wasn’t enough to get rid of it, luckily. He pulls you close as you bury your face into the crook of his neck, sobbing and crying uncontrollably.

“I’m sorry I ever made you think I’m not planning my future with you. You are my future, Y/N. All of it.”

“Stop!” you choke out laughing. “I can’t cry any harder!” you say, making him laugh as well. His hand slides to the back of your neck, threading his fingers into your hair.

“Oh baby, I don’t want you to cry at all,” he chuckles softly, pulling you to his chest once again. “I want you to be happy, preferably with me, but if you tell me to fuck off, I still understand.”

“Don’t you dare say that,” you smack his chest gently. “I love you way too much to ever say that.”

“Fuck, you don’t know how amazing it is to hear that,” he breathes out as his hands move up to cup your face and he finally pulls you into a sweet, i-missed-you-so-fucking-much-don’t-ever-leave-me-again kiss that makes the whole world spin around you. Just like that, the universe falls into perfect balance and all the suffering and pain you had to go through, it vanishes the moment Harry’s lips touch yours again, something you truly thought would never happen again.

“So, have you found a place yet?” he asks, a little out of breath from the kisses you two just shared. Resting his forehead against yours he looks into your eyes with his piercing green ones that you missed so dearly.

“I was supposed to move to my sister’s temporarily, but I guess I can give her a call that she won’t have to put up with me after all,” you chuckle making Harry laugh as well. “When do you want me to move?”

“Like right now,” he replies instantly, making your heart flutter. “But whenever you want to, it doesn’t matter as long as you don’t change your mind about it.”

“Then how about after Christmas?”

“Perfect,” he breathes out pecking your lips again.

“I guess we have to rearrange our Christmas plans too. Unless… you don’t want me to go home with you.”

“None of that shit anymore, baby. I want you with me all the time,” he blurts out making you smile. He will never hold anything back from now on, this mishap taught you both a lesson about communication and honesty. He turns to look out the window and you follow his gaze realizing the blizzard has completely snowed the two of you in. “I think we might be trapped here for a while,” he states, a small smirk tugging on his lips.

“Oh no, what a disaster!” you moan, voice still shaky from the crying, but your comment makes the both of you laugh.

“Luckily, you still have all your stuff here,” he huffs looking back at you.

“Mhm, luckily,” you breathe out before pulling him down for another kiss.

Thank you for reading, let me know what you thought about it!

#harry #styles #harry styles #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles imagine #harry styles fanfic #harry styles oneshot #harry styles one shot #harry styles fluff #harry styles angst #harry styles x you #harry styles x y/n #harry styles x reader #fanficmas2020 #fanficmas 2020 #watchmegetobsessed fanficmas #watchmegetobsessed fanficmas 2020

887 notes · View notes

thedeathdeelers · 4 years ago

Text

Racing Hearts

[a companion piece to this gorgeous piece of Luke art brought to you by the ever talented @mamirugbee]

It‘s a warm and quiet night as Julie lies comfortably on a sleeping Luke, the sound of his strong heartbeat thudding steadily against her ear.

Her finger lazily traces patterns on his chest as her eyes roam the dark room, taking in the familiar surroundings of yet another hotel room. Julie had come to learn that no matter what country they were in, the hotel rooms were always the same.

Her eyes brush over his discarded navy and black suit along with his black band tee draped over the sofa across the room, landing on the shiny helmet propped on top of the coffee table, the gloss glittering with the light of the moon shining through the slanted shutters of the window. Her gaze lingers on the various logos littered across the top of it, each one of them so familiar to her now. As her eyes take in the shape of the Sunset Curve Racing logo, her heart warms once more at the memory of Luke pulling it off earlier that day, as he swiped his sweaty hair away from his face, listening intently to the scores. She also distinctly remembers the brightness of his smile that had been visible from miles away as his name echoed through the circuit, the announcers praising him as the youngest driver to ever win the Mexican Grand Prix.

Her eyes flick away from the helmet to rest on the trophy standing tall on the centre of the dining table tucked away in the corner of their room, the silver glint of it guiding her gaze down towards the name engraved on the plaque at its base.

She had watched him from the base of the podium as his competitors sprayed him with champagne, his smile not waning for a second as his hat, his favourite Screams from the Attic band tee and his suit tied at his waist got drenched. The multicoloured flags behind him had flapped in the wind as he turned his gaze, searching for her in the gathering crowd. She had backed away the second his eyes landed on her, the growing mischievous smile on his face a warning sign as he started towards her, the sticky nature of dried champagne pushing her to move even further away from his approaching hands.

She had lost of course, a smile now making its way on her lips as she remembers his arms snaking their way around her waist from the back, lifting her up until her feet were helplessly kicking the air in front of her, her squeals louder than the cheering crowd.

Julie pulls her attention away from the day’s events and back to the quiet room she finds herself in, her eyes coming back to trace the features of the sleeping driver beneath her.

Her heart grows tenfold as she takes in the peaceful almost boyish look on his face, sleep taking away any edge it might carry during the day. Without her permission, her fingers skim the lines of his chest, dipping past his collarbone and up his neck as they settle at the base of his jawline.

She thanks whatever greater power brought him safely back to her after yet another successful race.

Because truth be told, even though she had gotten better at controlling the anxiety that riddled her whenever he walked away from her and towards his car, Julie still worried about him and struggled to sit still while she watched him race to the finish line.

Just like she was now, she often found herself wondering how Luke kept his pre-race nerves at bay as he got ready to risk his life again and again for his job - his passion. She admired for him, even if it scared the living daylights out of her.

She always watched him as he got ready while the team, including Alex and Reggie, prepped him before he slid into his seat behind the wheel, glimpsing a look of peace settling on his features as he closed his eyes for a few seconds, shutting out the flurry of activity happening around him.

Julie had always assumed it was due to the music pulsing through his headphones, the loud beating of the drums and heavy guitar riffs blocking out the world for just those few seconds. It was a ritual she’d seen time and time again, even before he knew she existed - but during his last few races, she’d been seeing less and less of that. The headphones themselves would be left dangling in her hands as he walked away - no music in his ears, his eyes never leaving hers.

Maybe whatever brought on that peaceful expression to his face could help her, too.

Her fingers move upwards once more, her thumb gently swiping against his cheek and grazing the day old stubble. Her index finger glides down the length of his nose, her hand hovering just above his mouth when she feels lips pressing into her palm.

A giggle slips out of her before she can stop herself.

“Did I wake you?”

Her whispered question is met with a soft grunt, followed by a hand tightening its hold on her hip.

“Yes. No. Maybe?” His sleepy answer brings out more laughter to bubble out, her hand retracting itself from his face to slap across her mouth.

“I’m sorry,” comes her muffled apology.

“No you’re not.”

A beat of silence follows before she slips her hand off her face and settles it back on his chest.

“No I’m not.”

He grins at her reply, his eyes still closed.

“How come you’re up?” His brow furrows before he cracks an eye open to peek at her. “Wait — what time is it?”

Julie shrugs, answering both of his questions in one swift motion.

“Couldn’t sleep?”

“No, I’m fine I just...” She tries to think of a reason, but all she can think about is that peaceful look on his face before a race, and she suddenly finds herself itching to ask him.

“I- I was just thinking about today, and your races in general and I...” she trails off, not entirely sure how to phrase this.

She feels the hand on her hip give her one quick squeeze, and realises her eyes had drifted away from his gaze.

She looks back up at him to find him looking at her with both eyes open, a curious and slightly concerned, gleam to them.

Right. This was Luke — she could do this.

“It’s just that I know the anxiety that comes along with having a loved one getting into a race car will never fade, especially not after...” she trails off, taking in a deep breath before continuing. “But I- I always see you do this thing before you race. Like suddenly all of the anxiety that was there just kind of...melts away?” Julie registers her words and hurries to explain herself. “I don’t mean you’re not anxious anymore! Or that you’re completely relaxed or— I don’t know how to explain this. It’s like you’re just suddenly okay? Ugh, I’m sorry I don’t know what I’m saying.” She drags her hand towards her face as she hides behind it, hoping she can blame her lack of sleep on whatever the hell that was.

Anxiety about maybe dying just casually melting away?? Where did that come from?

The silence that follows only causes her to worry even more, until she feels a hand rest against hers, only to then gently pull it away from her face.

He holds onto it as she looks up at him again, his thumbs softly tracing her knuckles.

“I know what you mean, Jules.” He tilts one side of his mouth up into a half smile before he continues. “I’ve always had this habit of losing myself to music right before the race starts — ever since I was a kid music just kind of...I don’t know, had this calming effect on me? Or no, wait.” She watches him as he screws his mouth up, his eyes looking up towards the ceiling as he tries to come up with the right words. “Okay so maybe not calm exactly, but music has always been able to help me sort out how I feel, right? And just like it can help me understand how angry or sad or happy I am, I find that if I choose the right song, the right melody or just the right guitar riff, I can almost will myself to just — feel the way I want to feel? If that makes sense?”

His eyes come back down in search of hers as he struggles to explain himself, but just like she always does, Julie knows exactly what he means.

“Yeah, it does. Music is magic like that,” she tells him, a little smile sneaking its way onto her lips.

“Exactly!” The hand holding hers squeezes once before his thumb goes back to its soothing motion. He grins down at her, a smile just as bright as the one she saw on the podium earlier today, except this one was just for her to see.

Her gaze shifts down to his nose, her next question on the tip on her tongue struggling to make its way out. Was this maybe a little too personal? They’ve been together for a few months now but there were times where it still felt so new — she’d get shy or flustered like a school girl, getting tongue tied just at the sight of his brilliant smile. She had a feeling it would always be that way with Luke.

She hoped it would be.

“Jules?”

His voice interrupts her thoughts, bringing her back to the conversation as her eyes reflexively find their way back up to his.

Before she can overthink it, the words spill out of her.

”I um- It’s just that I noticed in the last few races you’ve stopped doing that — listening to music right up until the race starts, I mean. And yet even then you still get that look on your face so I just....wanted to know why - or how - I guess.”

His expression grows soft at her words, his eyes roaming her face once, twice, three times.

“Hmm, something more magical than music came into my life.”

She waits for him to continue, to elaborate and make sense. Instead he just stares at her, as if his vague statement was all the answer she needed.

“Um..what?”

He laughs quietly at her confusion, the vibrations of his laughter reaching the ear still pressed against his chest.

Not known to be patient, Julie jokingly scowls at him, attempting to look unimpressed as he laughs at her.

“What?” She doesn’t mean to, but a slight whine slips into her tone, followed by a pout settling on her lips. This only makes him laugh even harder, her head shaking with the movement of his chest.

“Nothing, nothing.” He chuckles some more while she half-heartedly glares at him, before continuing. “I thought I was being obvious but I guess Alex was right.”

“Alex? What about Alex?”

He shakes his head at her. “Nah, never mind. He just likes to tell me how wrong I am sometimes, that’s all.”

A snort makes its way out of her before she can stop herself. “When doesn’t he...”

He chuckles once more at her words, before quieting down as his eyes flicker down to her lips.

“Luke?”

His eyes tick back up at her questioningly, a smile curling her lips at his short attention span.

Or maybe he just got distracted by her? Huh.

“You were saying about something else taking over music...?”

“Oh! Oh right, yeah sorry. Uh, I mean it hasn’t taken over music exactly — it’s more like I’ve found something else that just kind of,” he lets go of her hand as he reaches over to trace a finger down her cheek. “Better embodies the magic of music for me? Kind of like the living embodiment of it, you could say.”

Her heart starts beating a little faster at his words even as her brain struggles to comprehend his words. Was he-

“Do you get what I’m trying to say, Julie?”

Unable to speak, Julie slowly shakes her head.

The hand on her face cradles her cheek, his fingers weaving their way into her hair.

“You, Jules. You calm my nerves before a race better than any song I’ve ever added to my playlist. I-” A chuckle escapes him before he continues, “Just the thought of you brings me this sense of peace, and it just kind of settles in, pushing away at any jitters that try to shake me before a race. I don’t know how to explain it, even if it’s pretty simple to me.” He stops to stare into her eyes for a second, Julie fully unable to articulate any word or thought.

“I just close my eyes for a few seconds, and picture you. Your voice, your eyes, your smile. I picture you running towards me after a race like you did that first time, and suddenly I’m just excited to race and get to the other side so I can hold you again.”

She feels his thumb gently swipe across her cheek; up and down, up and down.

“I guess what I’m trying to say — what I thought was obvious but maybe Alex was right — is that you’re the reason I’ve been getting better in all my races, the reason I even won today. You make me a better driver, make me want to be a better person.” He tries to draw her closer, his head tilting down towards hers, lifting it off his pillow as he whispers against the crown of her head,

“I love you Jules.”

Still taken by the confession that has left her a little dizzy, Julie pulls herself closer to Luke, wrapping her arms around him as she tightens her hold on him, her face snuggling into his chest. They had already said those three words to each other numerous times before, neither one of them shy about letting the other know the true depth of their feelings.

But somehow, this felt different.

“I love you,” she mouths into the space right above his heart, pressing a kiss into his skin. She feels his fingers twitch in her hair, letting her know that he heard her, felt her, too.

Silence settles in the dark room, neither one of them moving, too happy and comfortable to ruin the moment. They both eventually fall asleep in each other’s arms, ready to conquer whatever the world threw their way - one race at a time.

fin

#jatp #juke #julie and the phantoms #otp: you’re music to me #luke patterson #julie molina #my fics #thedeathdeelers fics #jatp fics #luke day #juke day

99 notes · View notes

nightingaelic · 4 years ago

Note

could you do Fallout New Vegas companion’s reactions to a Courier Six who is also the Lone Wanderer telling their stories from their time in DC? (bonus points for Arcade’s reaction to them hating the enclave, and if that would make him decide to keep his past hidden even longer, or if he would still tell them?)

The logistics and implications of this make my head spin. This is also super long, honestly I should just quit writing reacts and start writing fics OH WAIT

Getting the courier talking was a tough thing to do, but on nights where the moon was full and the coyotes' howls were miles away or at least behind some stout walls, on nights where they were a few beers in and they hadn't seen another living soul in a few days, that Mojave Express deliverer started to reminisce. That wasn't really the surprising part, though. No, the surprising part was what they would remember, fondly or not-so-fondly: A world apart from the desert, a continent away on another coast, and stories of life in a vault, a missing father, pure water and a Brotherhood divided.

Arcade Gannon: Arcade didn't mind these moods, at least when they first cropped up. He nodded along as the courier talked about living in their father's shadow, about feeling cornered by their own family's legacy. He hung on their words about living in the cradle of America's history, about Project Purity, all of the gritty details of modifying a GECK to bring water to a devastated wasteland.

Eventually though, the courier's memories soured, with the arrival of Enclave remnants in their life. Arcade folded into himself with every harsh word, every jolt of plasma that had disrupted his friend's world relived in horrific detail. They gestured angrily as they described their newfound purpose, their battle for power with the fractured Brotherhood of Steel at their back, and their smug satisfaction at the moments they were able to crack open Raven Rock and the Enclave's mobile base crawler and lay waste to their tormentors.

It took a few rounds of these stories before the courier noticed he shrank and grew quiet whenever they neared the end of their story about breaking into another vault to find the GECK. They stopped abruptly one night. "What's up with you?"

"Um..." Arcade scratched the back of his neck and looked away. "Nothing. Nothing, I just... have some personal experience with the Enclave, myself."

The courier sighed. "Yeah, there's a few people walking around the West Coast that have similar stories to mine. Arroyo's full of them, for one. Is it something like that?"

Arcade took a deep breath. "I feel... well, it's a lot closer to home, for me. Close enough to raise questions, so I don't talk about it much."

"Close enough to..." The courier twisted their face up in confusion for a moment, before realization set in and their eyes grew large. "You were... your... oh."

"Mmm-hm."

"Well, fuck me." The courier smiled and popped a cap off of another beer. "I've been doing all the talking, haven't I? Let's hear your story about working with the guys in power armor who ruined my life, right after dad did."

Craig Boone: Whenever the courier started up like this, Boone couldn't help but notice a familiar twinge of regret and self-doubt in their voice. It shone through most clearly when they spoke about their time with the Brotherhood of Steel, the men and women they'd fought alongside and lost during their struggle against the remnants of the Enclave. It was there, too, in their story about returning to the vault they grew up in, setting the chaos that had arisen in their wake to rest, but not being able to go back to the way things were.

Boone didn't pry. He knew that feeling well. Instead, he cracked open bottles of beer, liquor, soda, whatever they had on hand during their nights in the desert, and just listened. He'd done the same for Carla, when they were younger and new to each other and he couldn't get enough of her voice and how it flowed endlessly, easily, the way his never could. He absorbed it all now as he did then: The joy, the pain, the loss, the fear, the triumphs and falls and abandoned dreams that filled the courier up and drove them to travel west, beyond anything they had ever known.

That last part stumped Boone a bit, though. "Why didn't you stay?" he finally asked one night.

They looked surprised. "Stay? Stay where? I didn't have a home anymore."

Boone shook his head. "With the Brotherhood. Or some other settlement."

"Like Megaton?" The courier sighed. "I thought about it. Close to the vault, friendly people, easy work... I guess I just didn't want to wind up... stuck."

They flushed red and looked away from him. Boone knew why they were embarrassed, but he also knew the truth in their words.

Sometimes the courier cried after they had finished, though they did their best to hide it. Boone pretended not to notice. He was pretty sure they knew he was pretending, but he was also pretty sure that pointing it out would be worse than just letting it be an open secret between them. The silence between them endured, but something grew inside it and flourished. Some kind of deeper understanding.

Lily Bowen: The more the courier spoke, the more Lily made connections in her muddled mind. Of course they knew the basic layout of most vaults, they had grown up in one. Of course they were extra-sensitive to the Mojave heat, they had come to the desert from the cooler of the two coasts. Of course they'd been extra-wary around the super mutants or nightkin of Jacobstown, they had only known angry super mutants looking to grow their own numbers through any means necessary.

Their shared experience of growing up inside a vault reminded Lily of happier days, and she often asked questions about Vault 101 during the courier's stories. "Were you sweet on anyone inside your old home?" she asked, with a big smile befitting a proud grandma.

The courier blushed. "That's not very polite, Lily."

"Oh, I'm sorry, dearie."

"No, no it's okay." The courier smiled. "There was a boy who picked on me a lot, but I never figured out whether he did it because he hated me or liked me. His name was Butch. And there was Amata, my childhood friend. She was the daughter of the Overseer."

"Daughter of the Overseer?" Lily grinned. "I'm sure she was a lovely young woman."

The courier looked a little misty. "Yeah. She was. Probably still is."

Lily pulled a handkerchief that used to be a small tablecloth from inside her overalls and handed it over. "Maybe we can go back there together, pumpkin," she offered. "I always wanted to travel to the capital. We can visit your friends, see the sights."

"Yeah, maybe someday." The courier accepted the gift and blew their nose. "I've got some things I need to finish up here before I even think about wandering back east, though."

"Then let's make a list and do our chores," Lily said happily. "Number one?"

"Ohhhh, man." The courier smiled up at her. "I wouldn't even know where to start."

Raul Alfonso Tejada: Raul got a faint smile on his face whenever the courier started up like this, as if their memories reminded him of another place he had come from, another time. While they couldn't have more different backgrounds, pasts- hell, he had several hundred years on the courier, even if they shared the same road today- there was something in the description of the other roads they had walked that made him feel warm on a cold night.

"What's on your mind?" The courier asked him one night, when Raul's smile grew larger than usual.

"Nada, boss," he reassured them. "You're just a good reminder that I can change my mind about the future anytime I'd like. Tell me the one about that radio DJ again."

"Again?" The courier rolled their eyes. "Why? I could tell you a million stories about Underworld and all the ghouls that lived there, but all you want to hear about is Three Dog. You'd probably have more in common with the Underworld folks, honestly."

Raul nodded noncommittally. "Sí, but my favorite stories are about people who had to rise above bad situations and become someone uncommon. Anyone who's able to do that is either fighting for something great or running from something terrible. Sometimes both."

The courier shot him a skeptical look. "Three Dog's holed up in his radio station 24/7, he's not running from anything or out fighting for anything. All that stuff about 'the good fight' is a load of bull."

"Now, now, Six," Raul chastised. "Just because he looks like your average pendejo doesn't mean he isn't doing his part. You even told me his radio show is inspirational for the Capital Wasteland folks."

The courier held their hands up in the air and bobbled them, as if balancing an invisible scale. "The duality of man. Being an average pendejo, or convincing everyone around you that you aren't actually an average pendejo and can pull off miracles."

Raul laughed. "And which one are you, boss?"

"Eh, I'm still figuring it out."

Rose of Sharon Cassidy: Cass was never one for fixating on her own past, but she couldn't help but sympathize with the courier whenever they deigned to add onto their unbelievable story. It was hard enough for her to navigate her own damn life: She couldn't imagine being called upon to steer an entire area's destiny.

After another night of recalling their life inside a vault with their dad, then their unexpected loss of him right after being reunited on the surface, the courier stopped suddenly. "I'm sorry," they said.

Cass paused her swig of precious whiskey. "What?"

"I keep going on and on about my dad, and here you are not knowing what happened to yours."

"Eh." Cass took her drink and waved her hand around until the burning swallow made its way down. "S'loads of people in the wasteland without a clue what happened to their pops. I'm not special. In fact, I'd say it probably hurts a bit more, what happened with yours."

"Well, all the same." The courier sank deeper into their seat and examined their own bottle of spirits. "I feel like an open book, tonight. Anything you want to know about where I came from that I haven't already spilled?"

Cass thought for a moment. "Tribals."

"What about them?"

"Does the East Coast have them? You're not the first traveler I've met from there, but none of you have so much as mentioned any tribals out east."

"Mmm." The courier looked thoughtful. "I guess we do have them, though maybe not in the traditional sense. There's a mess of them in Point Lookout for sure, and at least one tribal group in the Capital Wasteland outright, but beyond that things are more... loose. Fewer intact families, fewer intact homes."

"Huh." Cass took another drink. "Maybe that's where my dad went."

She let the courier stew in the awkward silence for a bit before she grinned and reached out to smack them. "Just kidding. Keep going. I want to hear about that giant robot again."

Veronica Santangelo: Veronica usually sat and listened, spellbound, picturing a chapter of her order that had realized the very thing she kept trying to tell the Elders and made the ultimate sacrifice to follow their hearts anyway.

Well, maybe Elder Owyn Lyons hadn't come to the same realization as her, but he had had a change of heart that split his company and cut them off from almost everyone they had ever known. It had been five years since the High Elders had instituted radio silence toward their East Coast chapter, and so far there had been no attempts to re-establish contact.

Veronica prodded the courier for any info she could get about the Capital Wasteland Brotherhood of Steel. The courier let slip pretty early in their friendship that Elder Owyn Lyons had passed away, which wasn't unexpected. The man was 76 years old, after all. She learned on one particularly emotional night that his daughter, Elder Sarah Lyons, was also dead, something she wasn't sure even the Western Elders were aware of. That memory was clearly painful for the courier though, so Veronica didn't press for details.

"And the Enclave?" the Scribe asked one night, arms wrapped around her knees. "Are they completely gone?"

The courier grew cold. "Yes. I made sure of it."

"Right." Veronica nodded. "So the Brotherhood took over the air force base they were at. It must have been chock-full of tech and resources, if it was the Enclave's last stand."

"It was." The courier sighed and shifted in their seat. "And it woke up some of our brothers and sisters to their original mission in the Capital Wasteland. I thought maybe that selfishness had died with Liberty Prime, but... well, I didn't like it, so I left."

"Mmm, yeah." Veronica nodded again, sympathetically this time. "I know how you feel. Felt."

"Feel," the courier agreed. "I just wish there was more I could've done. Maybe there wasn't anything else, short of seizing power."

"You'd definitely get pushback for that in the Brotherhood," Veronica agreed. "But you might get that chance out here in the broader Mojave."

ED-E: At first, ED-E enjoyed the stories, trumpeting and cooing various beeps at the appropriate moments for emphasis. The one time the courier began badmouthing the Enclave, however, the eyebot waited until they had finished before playing back the first tape that Dr. Whitley had recorded before its trip.

The courier listened to the scientist's words from years ago, deflating slightly as it played out. When the tape had finished, they stood up and checked the eyebot over. "He sent you toward Navarro, huh?"

ED-E beeped affirmation, and the courier sighed. "But Navarro was already gone. I'm sorry. I guess I'm... well, me and the Brotherhood of Steel back east are responsible for your previous master's decision to send you away. Might be responsible for more, too."

ED-E beeped sadly. The courier pressed their forehead against the eyebot's metal dome in apology.

Rex: Well, surprising for most. Rex was not most. As soon as the courier got really into their recollections, Rex usually yawned and went to sleep. He stirred when he felt their hand reach down to scratch the ruff of his neck, or pat the glass dome that held his brain.

"Good dog," the courier said, through the veil of sleep. "You remind me of another pup that used to follow me around."

115 notes · View notes

amphxtrite · 4 years ago

Text

pietro maximoff x fem!reader

warnings: light angst (sad pietro).

summary: pietro has worries about potentially becoming a father, so you hep him realize everything will be alright.

a/n: my first marvel fic, sorry if I messed up the russian.

word count: 1.8k

enjoy <3

blyad’ - fuck, printsessa - princess, moya lyubov' - my love, krasivaya - beautiful, dorogoy - darling, ya tebya lyublyu - I love you, zhena - wife

__________________________________________

“I can’t believe the captain is making me practice physical combat like I can’t take someone down with my mind.” Wanda groans, holding her sore shoulder in her hand as the two of you exit the training room.

“You know he does it just in case Wanda, besides it’s good to know.” You smile, repeating the same line for what seemed like the tenth time today.

“It’s not like my powers are going to just disappear y/n, besides I strongly dislike sparring.”

“You just don’t like it when Steve calls you out for using your powers.” You smirk.

“That was one time!” Wanda groans, murmuring a couple curses under her breath.

“Anyways, I was talking to Fury about the next mission and—”

Your sentence is cut short as the wind is knocked out of your stomach and the air around you begins to blur, terrified you latch onto the person carrying you.

“Blyad’ Pietro steal your girlfriend at your own time!” Wanda seethes.

But you can barely hear her groan of annoyance as a soft chuckle brings your eyes up to meet a pair of blue ones.

“Hello Printsessa, coincidence bumping into you here.” A familiar sokovian accent greets you.

“We live in the same building Pietro, you can’t do this every time you see me—” You squeal as the blonde picks up the pace.

“You know you love it, moya lyubov'.” He sighs with a smirk, pressing a long kiss to your cheek.

“Besides, you look ever so beautiful in my arms.” Pietro teases, pausing for a moment to nuzzle his nose to yours and take in the sight of your breathless self clutching onto his neck for dear life.

“Don’t look at me like that I-I’m trying to be mad at you.” You groan, glancing away only to find Pietro still staring at you with soft eyes, like you were his world.

“Alright, you win Piet. You’re going to make me melt.” You mutter, covering your face with your hands to disguise your deep blush, but Pietro had already seen it.

Grinning proudly to himself, he paces down to the living room and drops you gently on the couch before running off again.

“So kiddo, how was training today?” Clint asks nonchalantly, gratefully turning away from his conversation with Tony.

“Well, we finally got Wanda to spar without her powers for once, so I see that as a win.” You shrug with a laugh as Pietro arrives again with a blanket to toss over you.

“That’s good, the kid needs to learn, she can’t always use her ‘mind thing.’” Clint shrugs.

“Try telling her that.” You smirk.

A voice clearing abruptly cuts off Clint’s next sentence.

“Hey speedy, anyone ever say you look like a suburban dad with those tousled locks.” Tony comments sarcastically, eyeing Pietro’s slightly overgrown hair.

“Oh leave him alone Tones, he’s been on a mission for the past couple weeks.” You sigh, playfully pushing the brunette.

“Just saying.” Tony murmurs quietly under his breath.

You roll your eyes, but smile fondly at the thought of Pietro as a father, cradling a small child in his arms.

Glancing up at Pietro, you smile, but you’re met with a different expression.

Eyebrows furrowed and lips pursed. Pietro’s eyes cast away from you, as if he was trying to bore a hole in the wall.

“Is everything alright speedy?” You question softly, resting your hand on his arm.

Your heart clenches as he flinches slightly, turning his gaze back to you.

“Yes— yes of course krasivaya.” He smiles weakly, attempting to sound cheerful, but the break in his voice was evident.

“Um— I’m feeling kind of tired, I’ll see you guys later.” You excuse yourself, nodding to Clint and Tony as you take Pietro’s hand.

“Alright, but remember tonight’s movie night so don’t eat too much before nine, we’re ordering pizza.” Clint calls as you begin to walk away.

“Alright old man, we’ll keep it in mind.” You laugh, pulling Pietro out of the living room.

“Oh she’s getting it tonight.” Tony laughs as Clint rolls his eyes.

“Watch it, the kid looked kind of upset.” Clint sighs, pinching the bridge of his nose.

“Alright, sorry Katniss.” Tony chuckles, lifting his hands in mock surrender.

Refusing to let go of Pietro’s hand, you reach the door to his room and pull him inside, finally releasing your grip and taking a deep breath.

“Are you gonna tell me what’s really up Piet?” You sigh, taking his hands into yours.

Pietro’s eyes are downcast at the floor beneath him, glancing from side to side. For a moment, no one moves, you practically hold your breath for a moment as Pietro fidgets with your fingers and mentally debates saying anything.

When Pietro finally lifts his head, he reveals blurry blue eyes with tears welled up in the corners. “Printssesa...”

Your heart drops to your stomach as the streams fall down his cheeks, you quickly lift your hand to dry them.

“Printsessa, how could I ever become a father?” He mumbles softly, pulling his bottom lip into his teeth as he tries to fight back his on-coming tears.

“Of course you could be a father Piet, you’d be an amazing dad!” You smile softly, lifting Pietro’s chin so he’s facing you again.

His lips pull up into a weak smile, but his downhearted eyes suggested there was more to it.

“Piet?” You whisper softly. “Please. You can trust me.” You murmur, lifting his hand to press a kiss to his fingers.

The blue eyed blonde takes a deep breath and shuffles around on his feet, avoiding eye contact as your gaze softens.

“I-I don’t know dorogoy. You shouldn’t have to see me like this I apologize.” Pietro sighs, slowly trying to turn himself away from you.

“W-What? No. Piet, you’re upset. Please as long as you’re willing to tell me, I’m here to listen and help.” You smile, taking Pietro’s calloused fingers into your hand and squeezing gently.

Pietro chuckles softly and squeezes back.

“Thank you krasivaya. I don’t know how I got so lucky.” Pietro mumbles, pulling you into his arms and sniffling against your head.

“Please Piet, I think I’m the one who got lucky. The cute speedster with the perfect smile.” You smirk, nuzzling your nose into his chest.

“Yes, I suppose you did.” He chuckles softly, pressing a kiss to your hair.

Pietro clears his throat, letting out a long sigh and taking in a seep breath.

“What I mean, about being a father of course, is how could I possibly manage it.” he starts, clutching you closer to him.

“Y/n, I lost my father when I was ten, I hold onto any scrap of a memory I can hold of him but they’re slowly fading. Ever since I’ve been reckless, stupid, and childish. I almost died y/n, how could I possibly take care of children when I can barely take care of myself.” Pietro sighs and takes another deep breath.

“Truth be told I’m still much of a child myself, I couldn’t leave you with children because I died trying to prove something to myself. I couldn’t bear knowing I’d failed you and our children as a father.” Pietro finishes in a low murmur, allowing his tears to flow freely as he expressed his deepest fear and insecurity.

“Printsessa, you’ve helped me learn how to slow down and appreciate my life, but I’m still far from perfect. It’s hard for me to imagine being a father when I can see myself screwing everything up for the person who makes my life better.” He continues, gently pulling back from your arms to show the sincerity he held.

Your heart warms at the love Pietro held for you, but your stomach drops when learn his fear. Placing your hand on his cheek, you pull him towards you again, rest your forehead against his and gently clear your voice.

“Perhaps we’re not talking about the same Pietro love.” You comment softly, brushing the hair from your boyfriend’s confused eyes.

“Because my Pietro Django Maximoff, is the farthest from reckless, stupid or childish.” You begin, stroking his face with your thumb.

“My Pietro is selfless, ready at all times to help someone in need and save the day.” You smirk, watching his lips turn up as you press a peck to his nose.

“He’s brave, willing to do whatever it takes to help, but also smart enough to know when enough is enough.” You continue, kissing the tears off his cheeks.

“He’s fun, always knows how to make everyone smile.”

“y/n, I—”

“Pietro, you could never ‘fail’ me. We aren’t perfect, we’ll learn as we grow.” You smile, leaning into Pietro to press a butterfly kiss to his lips.

“Remember there’s no rush darling, and no matter what, ya tebya lyublyu.” You say as clearly as you can.

Pietro does his best to hide his laugh, but it’s futile as a low chuckle escapes.

“I butchered it didn’t I?” You sigh, shaking your head gently.

“Only a little krasivaya.” Pietro smiles, kissing your temple.

“Y-You know that’s the first time you’ve said that.” Pietro murmurs, holding you tightly against him, arms wound against your waist.

“I wanted to save it for sometime special… And I’ve been practicing.” You laugh.

“Aw I’m flattered dorogoy.” Pietro chuckles, falling onto the bed and pulling you down with him.

“Pietro!”

“You know you love it, moya lyubov.” He chuckles breathily, leaving a trail of kisses on the side of your neck.

“I love you too, printsessa. So very much.” Pietro sighs, his thick accent rolling smoothly off his tongue.

“So. Learn as we grow Piet?”

“With you beside me, anything y/n.” Pietro laughs, moulding your lips together in a soft kiss.

“Now c’mon, Nat’s picking the movie tonight.” You murmur against him.

“Oh, I love a good horror movie, Clint always screams.” Pietro laughs, standing again and pulling you bridal style into his arms, and running you to the living room.

————

“Shh, shh you’re going to wake up mama.”

You awake to the glow of a faint light and the sound of a soft cry. Squeezing your eyes together, you shift yourself to your side and attempt to drift off when a voice catches your attention.

Singing.

Coaxing your eyes open, you turn over again and glance to the other side of your bedroom where Pietro sat cradling your bundle of joy.

Pietro’s smooth voice had brought the cries to a happy coo, and you could see your daughter’s small hand reach up and touch her father’s face.

“Good morning Piet.” You smile, sitting up and rubbing your eyes.

“It’s only three a.m dorogoy, go back to bed.” Pietro insists as you stand and make your way over to him.

“And let you become the favourite, I know your plans love.” You smirk, wrapping one arm around Pietro’s shoulder and using the other to caress his cheek.

“Alright, you caught me.” Pietro chuckles, gently rocking the baby in his arms.

“Hate to say I told you so.” You laugh in a sing-song voice.

“Oh I’m still terrified, zhena.” Pietro smiles nervously, glancing over at you and pausing as he takes in your beauty in the low light. His heart flutters at the sight of you smiling down at your baby, his train of thought getting lost as you look back at him.

“But?” You question when Pietro’s sentence drops.

“But— I must say my love for you and our little angel is... Much stronger.” He murmurs, kissing your baby’s forehead.

Your heart warms at the sight of your husband's smile that matches your little girl’s.

“Learn as we grow?” Pietro smiles, leaning forward with his eyes closed.

“With you by my side, anything Piet.” You smirk, taking his fingers in your chin and meeting him halfway.

Pietro tilts his chin to deepen the kiss, but the sound of high pitched coos pull you apart.

“ya tebya lyublyu, Piet.” You sigh, leaning down and pressing a kiss to your little girl’s forehead and then the corner of Pietro’s lip.

“I love you too, y/n.” He murmurs dreamily.

“Now come on, she’s practically fighting to keep her eyes open now.” You giggle glancing down at your child’s half closed eyes.

“Alright, alright.” Pietro chuckles, placing your daughter back in the crib and collapsing onto your mattress.

“You’re doing amazing my love.” You yawn as Pietro pulls you to his chest and leans into you for a slow kiss.

“You’re not too bad yourself, printsessa.” He murmurs against your lips.

It was all even better than you had imagined.

#pietro maximoff #pietro maximoff x reader #pietro maximoff imagine #marvel #pietro x you #pietro maximoff x you

302 notes · View notes

poohkeepsee · 4 years ago

Text

I was going through my AO3 bookmarks, and I wanted to organize them a little bit. These are my Dean/Cas canon-ish fic recs.

season 5

canticles by 2street2car Words: 10,311 Chapters: 1

“But you know something? If I couldn’t get you laid, at least I gave you a good first date.”feat: footsies at a Ruby Tuesday, stargazing, the recreation of an iconic "Dirty Dancing" scene (no, not that one—the other one), and practicing for When You're With A Girl.

FTBYAM MY BELOVED

post season 6

Someone Who's Feeling For Me by ellispark Words: 45,876 Chapters: 1

Dean sees her for the first time in nearly six years in some no-name town in Idaho, and it's panic at first sight.

Lisa Braeden, the one woman Dean ever actually had a shot at a real life with, back from where he buried her in his mind. And her hand is on Cas's arm like it's no big deal, like it belongs there. Cas, Dean's dorky, sweet, badass, angelic best friend, and he's just standing there next to Lisa and not moving her hand away.

Dean feels the jealousy rising, and it's not directed where he expected it to be. Because it takes this exact moment for Dean to realize he's in love with his best friend. He's in love with his best friend, and Lisa is looking at Cas like he's the best thing since automatic rifles, and Dean is utterly fucked.

post bunker

Sun Can't Set Until Nine by LeverDrift Words: 67,939 Chapters: 16

Cas moves into the bunker as his powers start to fail. Dean doesn’t know if the arrangement is as permanent as he wants it to be. He's also not sure why he keeps dreaming about his friend. All he knows is that he wants Cas to stay. Overall warnings: canon-typical miscommunication & Dean having self-hatred issues.

Life Skills by ilovehowyouletmefall Words: 26,052 Chapters: 3

After Metatron steals Castiel's grace, and Cas comes to live in the bunker, Dean spends a lot of time with him, sharing all of his favourite things. Dean can't help it if sharing things with Cas just makes everything better. Besides, it's Dean's job as Cas' friend to introduce him to the joys of human life. To teach him how to be human. And if one of the experiences they end up sharing is sex with women, well... that's just part of Dean's job as Cas' friend too, right? The desire is triangulated, the rituals are intricate.

Sam Stole My Boyfriend by sobsicles Words: 8,445 Chapters: 1

“Dude, you’ve been staring at me a lot lately, like even enough that Sam noticed. More than usual. So, like, what’s up?” Dean pauses, purses his lips and reconsiders. “What did I do?”

Cas knows that would be a perfect time to confess to Dean what exactly happened and what he was thinking. Maybe, Dean had some insight into the situation or even some kind of comfort to offer. But, the longer that he sat there, he realized that he could not tell Dean absolutely anything. So instead, for the first time, Cas fumbled.

“Um,” Cas mutters and abruptly stands. “Freckles?”

Dean blinked up at him as Cas pivoted and left the room. There was only one remaining option he had and unfortunately, it involved Sam.

Aching in the Absence of You by sobsicles Words: 95,090 Chapters: 10

Brittle and battle-worn, Cas looks at him over coffee one morning and says, "I need to go," and Dean instantly knows that he's not coming back.

He's not really sure how he knows it, but he does. It settles into the pit of his stomach, curling hot and tight like something he instinctively wants to tear out with his bare hands. He takes a breath, and it gets stuck in his throat, hitching there. It hurts, hurts, hurts when he finally exhales.

"Yeah," Dean says, "of course you do," and he nods jerkily as he looks down at his phone. He doesn't say goodbye. He doesn't look up from the screen when Cas gets up and leaves the room. He doesn't finish his coffee, or move for a long time.

By nightfall, Cas is gone.

'Communication' by JustAnotherSamlicker Words: 11,656

The same story told from two perspectives.

Dean bought a house and he and Cas fix it up.

Is Dean moving out? Is Cas moving in?

Should they just talk to each other already? (Yes they should)

Build a Home by domesticadventures Words: 20,102

After they save the world, Dean expects Cas to come back to the bunker with them.

He doesn't

season 10

The Most Important Thing by NorthernSparrow Words: 94,462 Chapters: 14

Jimmy Novak remembers nothing of the last six years. Reunited with his troubled daughter Claire, he's struggling to raise her on his own. The most important thing is to make Claire happy. But why does he keep having these dreams of wings, and of two men in a black car? (Canon-divergent from S10E11, when we first met Claire again and Dean was still struggling with the Mark of Cain. Takes places several months later).

season 12

Heroes for Ghosts by pantheon_of_discord Words: 42,922 Chapters: 7

Canon-divergent from 12.08

After Sam and Dean are arrested, Castiel is left alone and scrambling to find them. He knows they’re locked away in a government facility, and he’s still able to hear their prayers, but no matter how he tries Castiel can’t seem to track them. He chases leads and even attempts to hunt on his own, but Mary is AWOL, Crowley refuses to help, and Castiel’s options are running out.

Weeks pass, Castiel’s hope dwindles, and through it all Dean prays, keeping them connected. His voice is comforting, frustrating, and occasionally annoying, but in his solitude Castiel comes to cherish it. But then one day, without warning, Dean stops praying, and Castiel is forced to confront some uncomfortable truths about his feelings.

season 13

i want to do with you (what spring does with cherry trees) by sobsicles Words: 74,173 Chapters: 8

Dean keeps going back.

When he arrives, it's always to blooming flowers and a windmill in the background, not too far from a brook, the sun painting the plains.

He likes it there. He likes to stand in front of the makeshift urn and check that it's still where he put it, switching out the flowers when they wilt. He likes to listen to the sound of birds chirping, insects singing, the faint sound of water trickling in the distance. He likes to turn his face up and feel the sun on his skin, wondering if Cas would do the same if he were here, somehow knowing that he would.

He likes to talk.

There's never a response, but Dean feels the breeze rustle through his hair and watches the flowers bob when bees come to them and stares as the windmill keeps turning, turning, turning. And he imagines that Cas is replying—the windmill is the tilted head, the bobbing flowers are a gentle smile, the breeze is whatever words Dean wants to hear at the time.

Sometimes, it's almost like he's there.

Trial and Tribulations of Raising a Nephilim ��by Sickandtiredofyou Words: 14,910 Chapters: 6

Dean has far too much on his plate, losing his mom, his best friend and now being a single parent to a newborn nephilim.

In which Jack is an actual newborn instead of a teenager.

post season 13

dumbassery, denial, doing (the three d's to the destination) by sobsicles Words: 108,427 Chapters: 4

Freedom is just one adjustment after the next.

Cas hums again. "I think you already have. It's been months since everything settled. All that's left to do is...get used to it, and perhaps—" His voice stalls out, uncharacteristically, and his gaze roams Dean's face with intensity. When he speaks next, his tone is a little raw. "Perhaps what one does with peace is...whatever they want."

"What if I don't even know what that is?" Dean grumbles, arching an eyebrow in challenge. "'Cause I know damn well you don't just mean good food and a good bed and time in Baby, not simple wants like that. You mean—ya know, the big things, the wants we didn't get to have before."

"Yes," Cas agrees. "If you're not sure, figure it out."

"Easier said than done."

Reasons to read this:

Dean reads a story that ends like despair and his reaction is FUCK THAT

Cas wears Dean's hoodie

Jack is a toddler

The Jack and Claire sibling energy we deserve

Eileen being awesome and pulling pranks with Dean while Sam thinks she's an angel

Sam knows

YOUR HONOR THEY'RE IN LOVE

First Date by aeli_kindara Words: 8,968 Chapters: 1

“We should go on a date. You and me.”

Castiel wishes he could see Dean’s face. He wishes he had any idea what to say.

“I’m asking you out, Cas.”

Also known as the Dean Winchester makes the first move fic.

season 14

Broken Road by thegeminisage Words: 109,629 Chapters: 7

A 14.13 Lebanon rewrite. When Dean uses a wish-granting pearl to try and kill the archangel Michael before he can escape the cage in Dean's head, they instead wind up with a newly-resurrected John Winchester.

It's been more than a decade since John died, and a lot has changed: Mary is alive, Sam and Dean have what passes for a proper home in the Men of Letters Bunker, and they're living with angels. John doesn't know angels are real, he doesn't know about the fragile new relationship between Dean and Castiel, and most of all, he doesn't know that Dean said yes to Michael, or that Dean's plan to defeat Michael would send him to a fate worse than death.

Now Dean must contend with both his father asking questions he can't answer, and his loved ones learning about the darker truths of his childhood, all while constantly battling the archangel trapped inside him. But Dean coming to terms with his history may be the difference between this being the beginning of a journey—or the end.

post season 15

fools and pilgrims by lagaudiere Words: 31,904 Chapters: 2

Claire shows up at the bunker a day before Dean was planning to leave, with her hair cut short and a fresh tattoo on her left arm under a bandage. Chuck is dead, Jack has given up his godlike powers, and Cas is back from the Empty, which doesn't make it any easier for Dean to talk to him. Suddenly finding himself in a world without monsters, supernatural forces, or any need for hunters, Dean's solution is to go on a road trip. Claire tags along.

Dean-Claire mirror fic post Despair

what's missing is found (our souls can exhale now) by sobsicles Words: 27,403

It's not the first time Claire has ever gone missing. It is, however, the first time Kaia panics about it. Dean's dragged into the mess, but he soon finds that it's the best thing that could have happened to him.

canon(?) au (Hunters and Men of Letters)

Dean Winchester's Secret (Angel) Boyfriend by reluctantabandon, Winter_of_our_Discontent Words: 11,191 Chapters: 1

Dean Winchester isn't exactly a team player. So when he starts mentioning a new Hunting partner, Ellen and Jo Harvelle aren't sure whether they should be worried or relieved.

But they're starting to get the feeling there's something important Dean's not telling them about Cas...

Shot Through The Heart by peanutbutterjelly-pie (Aleakim) Words: 11,191 Chapters: 1

Dean is a hunter.

Castiel is a Man of Letters.

And even though they have to work together on a regular basis, there is not much sympathy between them. Castiel thinks Dean too brash and reckless while Dean in return sees nothing more in the other man than a rude asshole with an obsessive love for books and a truly terrible fashion sense.

But fate clearly has a funny way of throwing those two together over and over again.

And somewhere along the way feelings change into something neither of them would have expected.

#destiel #deancas #fic recs

59 notes · View notes

givemethatgold · 4 years ago

Text

Fix’er Upper Pt. 3

Pairing: Eventual Frankie Morales x F!Reader Warnings: Clumsy injury, more stupid fighting Length: 2.5k Notes: If these two dummies could have one (1) adult conversation they’d be in bed together by now. Instead, we get this! *waves around vaguely*

PART ONE, TWO

Money was tight. You had been trying to ignore the dwindling stack of cash, telling yourself that you didn’t actually need to fix the cracked drywall, replace the old oven, or fill in the missing patches of shingles.

That ignorance had finally come to bite you in the butt. You were rudely woken at three a.m. to the clap of thunder and the pat-pat-pat of rain hitting the house. You loved storms, the excitement of the lighting, and how fresh the air smelled once the rain had passed.

You rolled over onto your back so you could watch the lightning flashing between the cracks of your curtains. A tap on your forehead quickly destroyed the excitement you were feeling. The wet ‘splat’ was quickly followed by another, and another, and before you were able to scramble up and search for the closest thing resembling a bucket, it had turned into a steady stream.

“Fuuuuuuuck!”

The next morning, the sun rose and shed its light upon a beautiful scene. The leaves, now free from dust, were beginning to turn, the grass glimmered with raindrops, and the sky was clear. You, on the other hand, were a verifiable disaster.

Hair unkempt, heavy bags under your eyes, and wearing the first items of clothing you could find in your scramble last night. Your exhaustion was so complete, it hadn’t even dawned on you to change or freshen up a bit before going out into the public eye. All you could focus on was getting to Hank’s Hardware and buying all the shingles you could get your hands on.

Once again, however, you were harshly reminded of your dwindling savings and just how expensive fixing up a house could be. The owner, Allan if you remembered correctly, had shown you the right size and style for your home’s roof and you nearly choked at the price.

“You know,” he had said gently, “we do have the option of a payment plan. I don’t let just anyone use it either. It’s for trusted customers. I have a good gut on who I can trust.”

“Really?” You asked, feeling a little pathetic while also knowing now was not the time to let pride ruin such a good thing. “And, um, what does your gut tell you about me?”

“Welllll,” he smiled, hooking his thumbs into his suspenders and leaning back a little to size you up. “You’re hard-working, feel like you have something to prove, won’t back down from a challenge, and are in way over your head with that damn old house.”

“Oh.”

“No offense, ma’am! Sometimes I forget myself and talk to strangers the same way I’d talk to my friends.” He patted your forearm gently then hooked it back into his suspenders, pretending he didn’t notice you jumping at the physical contact. “But it’s true. No denying you won’t be able to shingle all by yourself. I’d offer, but I’m in no shape to be climbing up roofs.”

“That’s very sweet of you, truly. But I’ll manage! I doubt I could afford a handyman, so it’ll be me and my stubborn self scrambling around up there.” You joked, but it fell a little flat since the both of you knew it was the truth.

“I’ve got an idea...” Hank trailed off, his gaze searching around by the till. “Maybe you two can help each other out?” He fiddled at the computer for a minute, then grabbed a flyer from the corkboard mounted behind the counter before handing you two pieces of paper. One was a receipt of what you owed him after this latest excursion and a detailed timeline of when small payments could be made.

Glancing up at him, you gave him a watery smile and thanked him for being so kind. Allan waved you off and pointed to the second paper.

‘Help Wanted’ it read, ‘Morales Acres. Light physical labour, quiet environment, rate of pay dependent on quality of work.’

“So friendly and welcoming,” you murmured, sarcastically, under your breath. Not quietly enough though because Allan snorted out a laugh and agreed that the ad was worded very abruptly. However, he vetted for the owner of the farm and suggested you head over to see if he would be willing to trade labour for labour.

Or at the very least, you thought, pay you so you can afford a roofer.

Following the directions Allan had provided for you, you quickly found Morales Acres. Surprisingly, it was a very short distance from your own home, making you wonder if the owner had been one of the people to drop by during your first weeks here.

The driveway was a beautiful, winding drive. The view of the farm was obscured by thickets of trees on either side of the road but you managed to catch glimpses of a pond and a few bales of hay before rounding a bend and driving into the yard.

A small gasp left your lips at the sight. It was picturesque! Something out of a travel magazine, or on every city girl’s Pinterest board. The driveway came to an end in front of a statuesque barn painted in the classic red and white, stone walls cordoned off certain areas that, from where you sat, looked like they could be used to house sheep or hens. A few small sheds were lined up along the other edge of the yard but the main attraction was the neatly lined rows of apple trees all heavy with fruit.

Climbing out of the cab, you slowly made your way into the yard with your mouth hanging open dumbly. It was just so peaceful here and it was obvious that the owner cared deeply for the property. You were enchanted and fell immediately in love.

“You must be the help Allan called to say he was sending over,” a warm voice rang out.

Looking around for the source your gaze widened, then immediately hardened, when you caught sight of who was talking to you.

“You!”

“You?!”

To say it had been a smooth business agreement would be a total lie. You and Market Asshole, Frankie you reminded yourself to call him, had bickered back and forth for the better part of an hour before shaking hands. Surprisingly, you had both argued more for the other person’s benefit, something you had been mulling over since.

If this guy was such an ass, why was he also acting like his help with your renovations wouldn’t be worth as much as you picking apples? You knew your presence disturbed his peace, and that you weren’t as strong as he might have hoped his helper would be, and he still hadn’t trusted you with all the workings of his orchard.

So, while you weren’t going to argue anymore, you knew you were getting the better end of the deal: you help him gather his harvest and get it safely stored in the barn, then he spends the same amount of hours helping you. While the weather during September was prone to drizzle, you had convinced him that a tarp thrown over the baldest patches of roof would be fine and that the apples couldn’t wait.

He had grumpily conceded your point but had sworn that as soon as the last of the fruit was picked he’d be over to do a proper job of it. So continued the uneasy truce between the two of you for the past four weeks. The first week was the hardest as your hands, unaccustomed to work, blistered, and your muscles ached from sudden use. You had initially tried to pass the time by making conversation but you got the hint and stayed quiet once Frankie started choosing trees farther and farther from yours.

Slowly, however, the blisters healed and gave way to callouses. Your muscles became accustomed to the work and you were able to carry twice the amount as you had started off with. Your home could now boast electricity and running water everywhere it should be, and the pile of discarded furniture had been reduced to ash by a spectacular bonfire which Jacquie and her family had joined you in admiring.

Today started off as a normal day. You showed up for harvesting at the break of dawn, having discovered you much preferred the cool morning air over being up on a ladder with the midday sun beating down on you. The trees were obscured by a low fog that had yet to burn up, but you knew what section you needed to start on.

Enjoying the way the fog enveloped you, making you feel like you were in a magical world, you began to hum and your steps took on a dreamy dance-like quality. You had never taken lessons or had even been allowed to make such a spectacle of yourself while living with Brad but now you felt free enough to spin, twirl, and glide. Overcome with the joy your freedom gave you, you began to belt out “These Are a Few of my Favourite Things”, The Sound of Music having been played on repeat when you were a child.

Once you reached the ladder, you hoisted the basket onto your back and continued to sing whatever songs you could remember while you worked. A particularly boisterous rendition of “Do Re Mi” had you flinging your arm out wide and leaning back on the ladder for a dramatic finish.

The apples threw you off balance.

With a screech, you fell backward, managing to twist yourself around to land awkwardly on your hands and knees instead of on the basket of apples strapped to your back. You seemed to have come away unscathed, with just scratched knees and a throbbing in one wrist. Thankfully it wasn’t your dominant hand.

“Whoa!” Frankie called out, catching sight of you on the ground with the ladder tipped on its side, “Everything okay? Are you okay?”

Coming to a skidding stop next to you, he grasped the basket and slipped it off your back with ease.

You took a few deep breaths and nodded. “Fine! Fine, just bruised knees and ego...” you assured him.

“What were you thinking?!” He tore into you, “You could have broken your neck! Or ruined a whole barrel of apples! Then what would I do?! This job doesn’t come with health insurance for Christ's sakes!” Running his hands through his curly, brown hair he let out a huff of air and walked over to where your ladder lay on the ground.

“Un-be-fucking-lievable!” You called out, incredulously. While trying to get to your feet, to march over and wag your finger in his face, you put too much pressure on your injured wrist that caused pain to scream down your arm.

You managed to mask the cry of pain as a cry of frustration and got to your feet. Surreptitiously cradling your hand against your chest, you grabbed another basket and walked past Frankie to start climbing the ladder again. Looking at the ground so he wouldn’t see the tears of pain in your eyes, you mumbled, “I’ll be more careful, alright? I’m sorry.”

Stopping your ascent with a hand on your arm he stuttered out what might have been the beginning of an apology but he couldn’t quite seem to put the right words together so he just cleared his throat.

“Just...” he said in a much softer tone, “just be more careful. Okay? I can’t lose my best worker.”

The lame joke made you smile despite yourself.

“Employee of the month,” you replied in a dry tone, “hurrah.”

You shared wry smiles while a silent apology passed between the two of you. His dark brown eyes held a warmth to them you had never noticed before. Their hue reminding you of every tree in the orchard from the early light to the sunset, golden flecks reminiscent of the sun. His face, weathered from so much time spent outdoors, was marked with laugh lines, worry lines, and a small scar gracing his left cheek.

Your eyes wandered past the scar to note how long his scruffy facial hair had grown and how it had started to obscure those pleasantly pouty lips.

Then, with a start, you realized you were staring at this infuriating man’s lips like a hormonal teenager. With an embarrassed squeak, you quickly scurried up the ladder, hooking your elbow around each rung to avoid any more pressure on your wrist.

To say Frankie was coping well with having someone around would be a gross overstatement.

It’s not that he didn’t like the company or wanted to be alone. The problem was that he was starting to like her company too much, to care too much. And caring too much had been the root cause of all Frankie’s sorrows.

First, there had been his Dad, trying to impress the man who never even wanted kids. Then the force, always feeling like he needed to prove himself and desperate for praise. After that was his wife, ex-wife, and trying to be someone he wasn’t so she would stay interested and in love. The pressure created by caring about these people and the expectations they had for him drove him to abuse drugs. Then his friends came calling and Frankie went against his gut because they had cared so deeply about something and he had cared deeply for them.

His wife, his kid, his family, his job, his friends. He had cared more than they did and he had come away worse off. At least now he was clean and sober, and was very aware of the irony of him now making and selling an alcoholic drink.

No, it was best to stay alone. He loved too freely and put too much stock in being loved back and every. single. time. it hurt him.

So, he closed himself off from you. Initially, he didn’t think it was going to be an issue, especially considering how you two had met. But then he found himself smiling at your stories, idly leaning against a branch so he could watch your graceful moments. He hated watching you leave, knowing you were going home to that piece of shit house that he should really be fixing up for you.

He recognized the signs and nipped them in the bud; working farther away, replying to questions with the fewest possible words, focusing purely on work, and maintaining a professional relationship. It pained him to push you away but deep down he knew it was best for the both of you.

Which brings him back to this moment.

Frankie was too stunned to notice your awkward climb up the ladder. Standing there, dumbly, for another few seconds. Wondering, all the way back to the idling tractor, what the hell had just happened.

One minute he was just driving the tractor minding his own business and the next he was having a mild heart attack after seeing his only worker laying limp on the ground. Then, after arguing like usual, you had shared a...a moment and stared at his mouth almost long enough to tempt him to use it.

Part Four

If you’d like to be tagged please send an ask!

@rebelliouscat @pedro4ever @speakerforthedead0 @yespolkadotkitty @ilikechocolatemilkh @weirdowithnobeardo @pedro-pastel @disgruntledspacedad @a-skov @trash-dino-5000 @reader-s-cantina

#Fix'er Upper #Frankie Morales x reader #Frankie Catfish Morales x reader #Catfish x reader #catfish x you #Frankie Morales x you #triple frontier fanfiction #Frankie Catfish Morales fanfiction

189 notes · View notes

mimisempai · 4 years ago

Text

Missing you comes in waves and tonight I'm drowning

Summary:

After seeing Loki disappear before his eyes and confined to the TVA because of the failed mission, Mobius decides to still believe in Loki and search for him. He witnesses the discussion between Sylvie and Loki on the train

Notes:

My theories on the method used by Mobius to locate Loki is probably very far-fetched and lacks technical truth, but that's not the most important point here, so I hope you'll forgive me for my short cuts. (I miss them together!)

https://archiveofourown.org/works/32162878

2008 words - Rating G

"Loki! Wait!"

Loki looked at him for a moment before stepping through the portal.

By the time they got there, it was too late Loki and the portal was gone.

"I knew he would betray us as soon as he could!" said one of the hunters right next to Mobius.

"Shut up!" shouted Mobius at him before returning to the TVA.

As he walked toward Ravonna's office, the same thoughts swirled over and over in his head.

Had Loki betrayed him! What were his plans? But worst of all, was he in danger?

He tried to think rationally.

Loki always said he was one step ahead, but Mobius knew that wasn't true. Loki was improvising. Loki was adapting. So reason told Mobius that this is what he had done.

That's when Mobius decided to do something he'd never done in his life at the TVA, he was going to bet on chaos. On the fact that Loki had chosen to follow the variant not only for his own sake but also because it was his mission.

Because Mobius could not imagine that what they had shared was nothing in the eyes of the god.

"Mobius! In my office!"

Ravonna... he was already imagining her reprimands, "I warned you" "he can't be trusted"...

As soon as he entered her office, she showed him a screen and just said, "Look!"

A scene showing the variant fighting in a hallway with the guards and Loki in the locker room retrieving his daggers then arriving at the place where the guards were eliminated.

Next scene Loki and the variant fighting, Loki trying to convince her to team up, at this point, despite the faith he has in him, Mobius could not determine if this is a way to stop her or get what he wants.

Then Rovenna arrives and the variant uses Loki as a hostage.

Mobius could not prevent a gasp.

Still on the screen, seeing that Rovenna is not persuaded, Loki grabs an object that opens a portal above them and he and the Variant disappear.

Mobius tried not to show his relief, but he saw that Rovenna was not fooled.

"So you still trust him?"

Mobius looked at her defiantly, "As long as I don't have concrete, real proof that he betrayed us, yes I’ll trust him!"

"Always the idealistic dreamer huh?"

Mobius didn't answer, Rovenna continued, "You're grounded here until I tell you otherwise. You can get out."

Once out, Mobius sat in a chair, held his head in his hands, and began to think. He was grounded, but there was nothing to stop him from trying to figure out where Loki was.

He just had to figure out how to locate him.

The difference was that now, thanks to Loki, he knew to look in the apocalypses, what he had to find now was the equivalent of that candy, something out of the ordinary, something anachronistic.

He stood up suddenly, he had found it!

He went to the office, where the screen that displayed all the nexuses was located.

"Casey! Come here!"

The younger man got up and joined him. Mobius spoke more softly, "Will you help me with a secret project?"

Casey, who had great respect for the man, nodded.

"Follow me."

They headed into the archive room. Mobius chose a table a little out of the way.

"You sit here. I'll be right back."

A few minutes later, he returned with a stack of files that he separated into two piles.

"In all these apocalypses, we need to find one where it mentions two Lokis variants and unusual magical acts."

"Got it!"

Mobius didn't know if his smoky theory would work out, but he didn't have much choice.

He couldn't help but think back to a similar scene a few days earlier, when Loki had fallen asleep. He had let his guard down in the presence of Mobius, so that meant something, didn't it?

He started to flip through the files.

"M-Mobius! I think I've got it!"

Casey was showing him a file, Lamentis-1 - 2077, a woman reports that two demons tried to attack her. One even allegedly posed as her deceased husband in order to get information.

Mobius could feel it in his bones. It was Loki and the Variant.

He was going to have to gamble on someone again.

"Casey. I need you to keep this a secret for a while longer. If Ravonna gets wind of this, I'm afraid she'll launch an assault and won't hesitate to eliminate Loki."

Casey nodded without taking time to think, "As long as you need Mobius."

Mobius was surprised that he didn't have to persuade Casey more than that.

After all, he seemed to be the good, loyal employee who never disobeyed.

Casey, seeing his reaction, added with a knowing smile, "You know, I like Loki too. He promised me he'd show me what a fish is and you know? The drink he took from me the other day, he bought me another one and apologized. A villain wouldn't take the time to do something like that right?"

Mobius's throat tightened. Casey was the first person other than himself to acknowledge that there was good in Loki.

"Thanks."

Casey nodded and returned to his desk.

Mobius headed straight for the video archive room. The advantage of being an agent of his rank was that he had unrestricted access to this section of the archives.

He searched through the shelves until he found the videos of Lamentis 1 in 2077.

He sat down in front of one of the small projectors provided for this purpose. He was going to start from the described scene that Casey had shown him.

After entering a few parameters, the screen lit up with Loki being blasted by an old woman.

The noise of the meteors that rained down around

Loki and the one who accompanied him, prevented Mobius from hearing what was being said.He pressed the fast-forward button until Loki and the girl, after some trouble to enter the train, found themselves in a box in the dining car.

He turned up the volume to hear their conversation.

He was amazed at how easily they seemed to converse, despite the jabs on both sides, and couldn't help a twinge of annoyance that he refused to recognize as jealousy.

The variant said to Loki, mockingly, "FYI, that wasn't even a plan."

"Oh, really?"

God how Mobius missed that cheeky attitude. Even when unmasked, Loki still had that irritating confidence.

The variant replied, "Plans have multiple steps. Dressing as a guard and getting on a train is just doing a thing."

She couldn't hold back a yawn.

Loki responded, "Oh, are you a bit tired? Feel free to, you know, get some rest."

One thing Mobius had realized and Casey had confirmed to him just before was that Loki cared more about others than he let on if you paid attention.

The variant grunted and replied, "I can't sleep in a place like this."

"You can't sleep on a train?"

The variant retorted, irritated, "No. I can't sleep around untrustworthy people."

Loki replied, still cheeky, "Oh, right. That's me?"

Fearing he might misinterpret what had been said, Mobius pressed rewind and let the scene play out before him.

The image of Loki nodding in agreement about not being able to sleep near people he couldn't trust was superimposed on the image of Loki sound asleep in his company.

He could not suppress the pang of his heart.

Loki trusted him, Loki considered him trustworthy.

While he was thinking, the video had continued and Loki was now talking about his mother.

Mobius had witnessed Loki's relationship with his mother and his devastation at the news of her death.

Loki's voice had become more hushed, with that hint of fragility he had whenever he spoke of her.

"She was, um... A Queen of Asgard. She was good. Purely decent."

Then the variant and Loki respectively provoked each other about the fact that they were adopted and Loki continued, "You know, when I was young, she'd do these little bits of magic for me. Like turn a flower into a frog or cast fireworks over the water. It all seemed impossible. But she told me that I'd be able to do it too because... Because I could do anything. You wanna see?"

Loki sets off tiny fireworks over his hand.

Mobius could not deny his feelings at that moment.

The sight of magic coming from Loki's hands, pure magic, was enchanting.

Loki continued, "She was the kinda person you'd want to believe in you."

Mobius could not help but whisper, "Loki, I believe in you."

For a few moments he didn't catch the conversation until it was audible again. Apparently they were talking about their love interests.

The variant asked Loki, "How about you? You're a prince. Must've been would-be-princesses or perhaps, another prince." She finished with a wink.

Loki, replied with a serious look, "A bit of both. I suspect the same as you. But, nothing ever..."

The variant finished his sentence, "real."

"Let me find you and I'll prove to you how real it is." Mobius didn't realize he was speaking aloud. He pushed fast-forward again.

The Variant had fallen asleep and Loki looked a little giddy.

Loki waved his hand and was back in his TVA agent costume.

He could wear the illusion of any outfit, and he chose this one. Why stay in these clothes?

Mobius really didn't want to be under any illusions, because how could he imagine that someone like Loki, a prince, a god, would want to claim a belonging to something like the TVA... to someone like Mobius?

Loki had started to dance and sing.

Mobius could not help but laugh. Then his laughter died down as Loki's song became more melancholic,

I stormsvarte fjell, jeg vandrer alene

Over isbreen tar jeg meg frem

I eplehagen står møyen den vene

og synger "når kommer du hjem?"

Men traner danser og fossene stanser

når hun synger, hun synger "kom hjem"

Then seeming to regain his spirits, Loki began to dance and sing happily again as if trying to prevent nostalgia from invading him.

When the music stopped, he joined the Variant and resumed his seat in front of him. Mobius managed to understand what they were saying to each other.

"What did you just sing to look so disturbed?"

Loki looked a little moved and answered him with the voice Mobius knew well, the one he used when he was serious, when he was sincere.

"It's Asgardian, it says:

In storm-black mountains, I wander alone

Over the glacier I make my way

In the apple garden stands the maiden fair and sings,

"When will you come home?"

Loki stopped, apparently moved, and the Variant simply said, "So there's a would-be-princess somewhere..."

Loki chuckled looking so sad before answering her, "I like metaphors you know, it's not a princess it's a prince, and I don't know if he's waiting for me or hoping to see me again, it's not even really my home, but..."

"But you'd like to believe that right?"

Loki nodded.

Mobius, didn't dare to believe that it was him that Loki was talking about, even though he couldn't stop the hope from rising up inside him.

The video continued, much more animated, after a wild fight, both jumped off the moving train and found themselves walking through a kind of desert towards the energy source they apparently needed to reactivate the tempad.

Mobius saw Loki suddenly stop, looking shocked. But Mobius was unable to hear what they were saying, the sound of the meteors again covering their voices.

Suddenly, Loki shouted louder, "But they don't know that!"

And they began to run.

Mobius could see that Loki was repeating something as he ran, an expression that Mobius had never seen on his face. Like he was worried. But he couldn't hear him. He zoomed in closer to try to read Loki's lips and finally succeeded.

Mobius.

_________

The whole serie here : The story of Loki and Mobius

Not beta'd I hope you enjoyed it 🥰

#lokius fic #lokius #lokius rights #time husbands #loki #mobius m mobius #loki spoilers #loki series #moki #wowki #developing relationship #POV Mobius

74 notes · View notes

legendarywolf2022 · 3 years ago

Text

Chapter 13: Check in with the Cooper Gang

(While Wolf and Catalina are going to see Diane, let’s see what’s going on with the Cooper Gang.)

⏰ 10th of July 2022, 02:45pm ⏰

🌎 Diane’s Place, Los Angeles 🌎

During the driving to Diane’s place, Wolf couldn’t stop thinking about what happened back at the alley. He wanted to remember what happened between him and the leader of those bunch of rabbit thieves, but he couldn’t. He doesn’t know about kung fu moves either, so how’s that even impossible for him to actually do or that he could not remember everything?

Once they got there, Catalina noticed Wolf’s mood of depression. She knew that smell of different emotions from each wolves and she would understood what was happening in their heads.

“Wolf?” Catalina spoke, “Is everything alright?”

Wolf sighed, “Not really, I don’t know…”

“Is it what happened between you and those bunnies?” Catalina asked.

Wolf groaned slightly, “I want to remember what happened but I can’t.” He paused before he added, “I don’t even know kung fu.”

“I know it may not be easy to remember,” Catalina said. “But I’m sure you will if you don’t force yourself to remember.” Wolf looked at her and he was about to say something when Catalina spoke again, “There’s a saying; ‘Stop fighting, let it flow’. It means you just have to let those things happen, let the life you have flow and don’t try force it. Because if you do, then you won’t find the answer.”

“Whoa…” Wolf spoke under his breath.

“Now, come on.” Catalina nudged Wolf with her elbow, “We don’t want the governor waiting and end up being late like yesterday, now do we?”

Wolf chuckled as she was right, they need to go to see Diane. They got out of the car and head to the house where Diane lived. Wolf knocked on the door and wait, both he and Catalina smiled and the door was open just to see a human girl with long light blonde hair that was so silky soft, she had to tie it back as a down ponytail and her light blue eyes sparkles as well when the sun shines on her face.

“Um,” Wolf wasn’t sure what to say. “Hi, you must be…”

“Sophie,” the young woman spoke. “Sophie McDonald.” She was wearing dark blue and sliver detailing dress with a plan blue cardigan with golden pearls that looked like a flower with a light pink and white bow on her right, her shoes were boots-looking short-heels of dark blue and white with a pink bow on the middle of the laces. She also wearing white shocks, sweet dark sliver glasses, light creamy brown cap-looking hat, golden pear earrings, a light creamy brown and gold water that looked so old but still worked, and last she had a golden ring that got three light pink pearls.

1. Dress - this city is like a dream that filled with art, history, freedom and romance after friendship and before family comes first. Everyone feels like Los Angeles is at day while France is at night.

2. Shoes - inside the handbag filled with books of great imagination and history, ready for a lovely time at the library when she done her work as a photography.

3. Socks - the most delicate paint that gently brush away from the darkness and brush into the light from the heaven above, and only everyone should know that this paintbrush can tell that the story.

4. Glasses - criminals will not be hoping to hide their crimes for much longer.

5. Hat - rule number 5; Make sure to keep your hat all time in case the wind will catch it and blow away.

6. Hairstyle - there are someways to keep calm while the work can be so stressful, and that you don’t have to wait for the time to finish. Daydreaming about dreams while relaxing and breathe easy.

7. Earrings - pearls are the only thing that keeps the girl stand up tall just to prove that she is a true leader.

8. Watch - rule number 8; Always make sure that your watch is telling the truth of time itself of olden and not itself of newly.

9. Ring - the golden is like a sun and the pink is like a blossoms that the two combined into something unexpected of friendship and love.

“Sophie,” Wolf said. “And you’re the babysitter for Mr Whiskers?”

“Sadly, yes.” She mumbled. “But hey, at least he’s not as hard as my grandmother’s cat.”

Just then, Mr Whiskers came behind Sophie’s shoulder with a ‘meow’ sounds of welcoming before jumping into Wolf’s arms and both of gave each other a cuddle. Mr Whiskers then noticed the girl next to Wolf and meowing a question.

“Mr Whiskers,” Wolf said. “Meet Catalina. Catalina, meet Mr Whiskers.”

“Hi,” Catalina waved at that kitten. She then reached out with her hand and Mr Whiskers sniffing before he letting her stroke his ears and suddenly jumped into Catalina’s arms who suddenly had her hair fuzzed up as she started to stroke Mr Whiskers who was enjoying her attention to him.

Wolf smiled before goes to Sophie, “Okay. Is Diane in or…?”

“She just went out to get something from the shop,” Sophie said. “She will be came in five minutes, so if you don’t mind coming in because that would be great.”

Wolf and Catalina smiled before entering the house…

🐺🐍🕷🦈🐟

Meanwhile, somewhere in Los Angeles, Sly Cooper and Carmelita Fox arrived at one of their hideouts where Bentley and Murray were waiting for them.

“We’re back.” Sly said, putting his cane and his red backpack down on the floor next to the door.

“Guys!” Murray rushed towards them and without any warning, he gave them one of his bone-crushing hugs. “Man, the Murray is so glad to see you back!”

“Murray…” Sly struggle to breath, “Too tight.”

“Can’t breathe…” Carmelita agreed.

“Oh, sorry.” Murray said nervously and speechless, he then released them so they could breathe as they catch some air.

“So,” Bentley spoke. “How did the mission go?”

Carmelita sighed before replying, “Not great. Those rabbits slipped me, before I could catch them.”

“So we have nothing,” Bentley rolled his eyes.

“Not exactly.” Sly said before showing them the medal he stole from Mr Wolf. “I still have that brooch they were after in the bank. It must be really important if they were after only this and not even touched the money.”

“Really?” Bentley asked.

“Also they mentioned someone named Shere Khan.” Carmelita said. “We believe he is the one giving them orders.”

“I might look into that,” Bentley said. “With the new clue, we might actually have lead before the events of Art Museum that we were invited by Governor Foxington.”

“Yeah, her…” Carmelita said who wasn’t sure to see the governor herself…

“That's great.” Murray said, “This is gonna be great heist ever!” Carmelita cleared her throat, indicating something to Murray. “Oh, right. great mission heist for justice ever!” Carmelita technically just wanted to hear "great mission" instead of "great heist", but looking at Murray's cheerful expressions, she let slide, as she didn't want to ruin it.

Bentley then looked at Sly with disapproving gaze. “Now, can you tell me what exactly happened?” He asked.

“Well,” Sly chuckled. “Funny story, I… kind of got into a chase.”

Bentley then rolled his eyes before facepalming himself, “Seriously?” He groaned in frustration. “You were spotted by local cops and got into a chase?”

“What?” Sly asked before replied. “No, you guys don’t understand. I… chased someone.”

Bentley, Murray and even Carmelita looked at him in shock. They have no idea that Sly would chased someone, usually someone would chase him.

But then girl's eyes widened in realisation, and then glared at raccoon who gulped as he got nervous from her angry look. “By someone, you mean that wolf?”

“Yes?” Sly nervously replied. “He kinda took my hat and I said to myself, that it wouldn't take long and started to chasing him thinking I would catch him soon. But I guess I underestimate him as it turned out to be more trickery.” Sly secretly like that he chased someone for once, and it was well worth it. Especially it was something unexpected between him and… Wolf…

Carmelita still gave him the look, but then she was smirking. “At least, you know how I felt when I tried to catch you all the years.”

Sly couldn't help but rolled eyes, but also smiled at her, feeling relieved that she's no longer angry at him. Well, at least not in upseting way.

“Wait, wait, wait.” Bentley said while waving both hands. “Did you say… wolf? You don't mean...?” Bentley paused as he wasn’t sure to say…

“No, it’s not him.” Sly replied, “He's name is Mr Wolf.”

“Mr Wolf?” Carmelita asked, “For real? What's then his companion name; Miss Spider?”

Murray look uncomfortable at mentioning of spider.

“Actually, it's Miss Tarantula.” Sly said, then saw Carmelita looked at him in disbelief. “I'm not bluffing, that's how they actually introduced to me.”

“Hold on!” Bentley spoke, getting everyone his attention. “I think I saw of names somewhere before. Just give me a minute.” He checked his laptop over Thiefnet to look at it. “Hmmm, let’s see… A-ha! There it is. Mr Todd Wolf and Miss Zoe Tarantula. They are the members of a gang that they called themselves the Bad Guys.”

“Bad Guys?” Carmelita asked, “Seriously?” Carmelita wasn't sure what to think of this. It sounded like they're some villains. She looked at Sly with raised eyebrow, looking for explanation.

“Look,” Sly said. “I know how it sounds, but I was with them long enough to know that they're are not bad people.” Carmelita wasn't convinced so… “Bentley, you don’t mind to research more about them.” He asked Bentley.

“Ok, let's see. You said you met two of them, right?” Bentley asked and both of them nodded in confirmation. “Okay, it seems that Mr Wolf is the leader of the Bad Guys, a getaway driver…” Murray’s ears pearked in interest after mentioning that, “…and of course a picpocket thief.”

“I can confirm that, since he did pickpocket me of this.” Sly said before pointing at brooch in his hand. His friends were shocked after hearing of what he just said. Carmelita couldn't but chuckled at the irony.

“Did I heard that right?” Murray asked, “Sly has got pickpocketed?”

“You heard correct, pal.” Bentley said while smirking. “Though it's still unbelievable to hear it.”

Sly laughed sarcastically, “Laugh it up, but you can't deny that he has skills. He's kinda like me.” Sly was shocked when Wolf did pickpocketed him as he was… closer to him…

“That explains why he's the second most annoying person.” Carmelita smirking.

“Aww.” Sly said sarcastically again, “Am I still your number one? I'm flattered.”

“Can we focus please?” Bentley asked.

“Sorry,” Sly replied. “Go on.”

“Okay,” Bentley said before checking the profile. “As for Miss Tarantula, it looks like she's a hacker. A very talented from what I reading of her accomplishments.” Bentley was speechless at her talent for technology.

“Sounds like you found a worthy opponent here.” Sly said.

“Please,” Bentley rolled his eyes. “I will be a judge of that.” He then looked at the screen. “But I do admit, her track record is remarkable.”

“Uhh,” Murray said. “I don't know guys. The Murray had bad experience when it comes to spiders.”

“Murray, I can assure you that she's not like the Contessa.” Sly said. “She risked her life to protect Wolf.”

“I can confirm that since I saw it too.” Carmelita explained. “She's definitely brave and also feisty, which is pretty admirable. And that comes from someone who's also not fond of that widow.”

After hearing encouragement, Murray couldn't help but smiled. “Okay. If it friends say it's okay, then the Murray is okay with it too.”

“There are also another members mentioned.” Bentley said. “There is Jason Shark, who is master of disguise, then there Martin Piranha who is a muscle of team.”

“Sounds like the Murray.” Murray said as he was indeed the muscle and also loves disguise himself.

“And last but not least Mr Asmodeus Steven SnakeAttacker, a.k.a. Mr Steve Snake,” Bentley said. “The safe-cracker and 2nd in command.” Bentley then looked at the screen. “There's also mentions of sixth member, a spy or something, but there is nothing much about. Probably just a rumour.”

Carmelita tensed up at mention of Mr Snake due to her unpleasant experience with another serpent. Sly put his hand on her shoulder assuring that this is not the case, at least he hoped. But then the vixen's eyes widened as she remembered something. “Wait! Now I know where heard of them.”

“You do?!” Sly, Murray and Bentley asked at the same time.

“Yes,” Carmelita said. “There was an incident in Louvre, where portrait of Mona Lisa was stolen. I remembered how Chief Barkley was furious as he was yelling 'How one of Bad Guys stole Mona Lisa disguised as the Mona Lisa?’ I guess we now know which one it was.”

“Wow…” Murray said.

“Unconventional, but effective for sure.” Bentley said.

“Wait.” Sly Cooper. “How come I am hearing about now?”

“Because it happened, during our traveling back in time to Ancient Egypt after finally finding about whereabouts.” Carmelita explained. “I only learned about this after we brought back.”

“She's right.” Bentley said. “It is mentioned right here along with bank robberies, stealing jewels, crowns, some art, statues, trophies and even some old juboxes and many more. But apparently they turned themselves in a year ago and they were released recently. The last ones were Mr Snake and Mr Wolf who got released only a week ago for good behaviour.”

Carmelita rolled her eyes, “Not really a good behaviour from Wolf who was being snappy towards me.”

Murray looked over Bentley's computer just to see the image of Bad Guys. “Hey, wait a minute... weren't they yesterday on news?” Then Murray was on his phone that played this video of someone recording the chase.

“Whoa,” Bentley said as he was the car chase between the Bad Guys and the girls. “I would say that Wolf's crazy driving skills are similiar to yours, Murray.”

“The Murray know, right?” Murray said while being impressed by the video showing him.

“Does Governor Foxington knows about this?” Carmelita asked, not knowing that she was gritted her teeth once she said the governor’s name.

“I guess so,” Bentley said. “But I don’t know.”

She then had something popped in her head; “Does Mr Wolf have any enemies except the Rabbit Herds?” She asked.

“Aside from police no, not at all.” Bentley said once he checked in his computer. “Why?”

Carmelita looked again at Sly for more explanation, Sly sighed before replied. “Oh, right. I didn't tell the whole story. Remember how I mentioned that he did pickpocket me over this?” He asked as he held the brooch, they nodded as he continued. “It was right after I finally caught him to get back my hat. When I tried to retrieve it, we were ambushed by Rabbit Herds. I knew they were after that brooch and they thought that I still have it. I was sure they would chase me and then I would lure them to a prepared trap. But I didn't expect their sudden interest on Wolf. Having no other choice I have to took him and Tarantula with me for their safety.” He then sighed, “That's why I called Bentley for backup.”

“That still doesn't explain why they're after him.” Carmelita said, crossing her arms.

“If I remember correctly,” Sly said. “After they saw Wolf, they mentioned that he resembles someone named Akela Wolfervile. Does it ring a bell?” Everyone shook their heads, Sly sighed again. “Then I’ll look into it. I don't know what is going on, but it seems that Wolfervile guy is somehow connected with Shere Khan, those rabbits mentioned. So, we have to better look into it once we check on Wolf.”

“WHAT?!” Bentley and Carmelita asked Sly at the same time.

“What do you mean 'check on Wolf'?!” Carmelita asked.

Sly looked at Carmelita with seriousness. “Carmelita, those rabbits are on the loose and they will definitely go after him. And after what he had done to their leader, they will not hold back.”

“But this doesn't concern us, does it?” Bentley asked confused as he looked at Murray who shrugged in confusion as well.

Unti Sly angrily slammed at side of van that make everyone startled. “That person is in danger because of me! He got involved because of my mistakes!”

“Sly, you don't know for sure.” Bentley said, “They would probably found about him sooner or later.”

“Still, I can't just do nothing,” Sly replied. “While there are dangerous people, who will go after him and anyone close to him. This is my responsibility, I have to fix this.”

No one said a word as they could see how serious their leader is, and to tell the truth he has a point. So there was one thing to do.

“Alright,” Murray said. “Then you can count on us. Cooper Gang sticks together, no matter what.” Sly looked at Murray suprised.

Bentley only smirked in response, “You honestly didn't expect us to leave you behind. As much as I think you're crazy, we are still team. As Murray says; Cooper Gang sticks together no matter what.”

“Yeah!” Murray shouted while raising his fist.

Sly smiled as he was feeling grateful for his friends. “Thanks, guys.” He then looked at his girlfriend who was quiet the whole time as she looked at back with troubled face. “Carmelita?” He asked.

She didn't say a word, until she finally asked; "Can I talk to you for a minute?" They went outside of their hideout so they could be alone.

“What is it?” Sly asked.

Carmelita looked at sternly with slight concern in her eyes. “This has nothing to do with… you know… what happened on the roof, is it?”

Sly slightly avoided the gaze from her, “I don't know what you reffering to.” He mumbled slightly.

“Don't play dumb on me.” Carmelita spoke. “You saw it too, didn't you?”

Sly turned head away from her as he knew what she was talking about. That day where the dark red wolf attacked, those movements, the growling, that hunt for blood in the air, those eyes... it was like looking at the mirror. A twisted mirror with red glint. His hand turned into a fist as he still held the brooch in tight grip, trying to not break it. Carmelita saw it as her ears dropped a little. She didn't like to bring that memory, but she knew it's something that both can't ignore.

Sly took a deep breath to himself. He then sighed as he spoke. “I don't know what is going on, honestly, and I need to find out. But what I know, that I can't let history repeat again and don't want anyone went through the same nightmare I was in once. Never again.” He turned to see Carmelita with eyes full of hope. “So, are you in or not?”

The inspector smiled at thief while stroking his cheek. “I'm always in, Ringtail.” She spoke, “No matter what.”

Sly held her hand as he smiled lovingly at her. “Thanks. I really appreciate that.”

Then she added with annoyance; "Though, I would rather not see that Lobo Loco yet."

The raccoon couldn't but rolled his eyes with humor. There is gonna be a lot sibling bickering for sure.

She then let go of him as she went towards her car.

“Hey, where are you going?” Sly asked.

“I'm going visit someone while I'm here.” Carmelita replied.

“Oh.” Sly spoke. “Someone I know or should know?”

“More like someone I haven't seen a long time ago.” She said in melancholic tone as she had a distant look in her eyes.

That didn't go unnoticed by thief. As worried as he was though, Sly didn't press on as he let her go, knowing that this is something personal for her only.

🐺🐍🕷🦈🐟

At Diane’s place, Wolf and Catalina were heading out to the car while Diane followed.

“Thanks for having us, Miss Foxington.” Catalina said while hugging Mr Whiskers before handed to the governor.

“It’s at least I could,” Diane said to Catalina before goes to Wolf. “I’m sorry that I was late.”

“Hey, it’s alright.” Wolf said. “You’re coming to the Museum of Art?”

“Of course, we are.” Sophie said. “I gotta go, my parents needs me to go see my grandmother.”

“Of course,” Diane said. “See you tomorrow.”

“Will me and the girls coming to the museum,” Catalina asked.

“I don’t see why,” Wolf said before looking at Diane.

“Well,” Diane thought about it before nodded. “As long as you stay best behaviour, that will be fine before it is a serious event.”

“I promise nothing bad happened,” Catalina said while making a cross on her chest as a promise that she would keep.

“I’ll see you tomorrow night, then.” Wolf said to Diane who nodded and smiled before taking Catalina to the car.

Once Wolf and Catalina left, Diane was about to went inside when she saw the car park right up to her house and she suddenly knew who is was; Her cousin Carmelita Fox or Carmel Foxington as it was her real name.

(Next chapter: Diane and Carmelita are talking about their lives from the past before they discuss about Wolf and The Museum of Art. Meanwhile, Snake is unsure about going to the museum after what happened last year and if it’s alright with the girls coming as well.

Just for a note; Carmelita and Diane are cousins and Carmelita doesn’t know about Diane’s crimes as the Crimson Paw.

AND! Sophie’s outfit is based on Time Princess since she was the first oc for the bad guys before Susanna came along.)

#dreamworks #dreamworks the bad guys #the bad guys dreamworks #the bad guys #the bad guys au #mr wolf #disney tangled #rapunzel's tangled adventure #tangled the series #tangled catalina #the bad guys oc #diane foxington #sly cooper #mr wolf x sly cooper #carmelita montoya fox #time princess #my story

3 notes · View notes