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gor3-hound · 22 days

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TOUCH ME INSTEAD – SCOTT SUMMERS + LOGAN HOWLETT

ft. scott summers x f!reader x logan howlett

a/n: commission for the super lovely @dollfacefantasy. literally check her out i do not have enough praise for her omg... god bless her for feeding my scogan fantasies. title is from the song 'over my head' by james marriott !! thanks to @cubedkennedy and @nexysworld for giving it a lil look over when i was tweaking 😓

cw: 18+ content. mentions of grief + death. gay sex (seriously... reader is in the background of this one), anal sex, oral (m!recieving), overstimulation, handjobs, fingering (f + m recieving), kissing, biting, blood, scott centric. canon divergent but set after x2

word count: 3.4k words

Scott hasn't been the same since Jean's death. He still remembers the jet. Demanding they lowered the ramp. Snapping at Nightcrawler to go and get her. The way the realisation set in as she spoke through Xavier. He didn't believe it at first. Not really. Something in him knew – you couldn't lose someone like her without feeling the shift in the universe.

Everything came crashing down all at once. She was gone. Jean Grey was gone, and he was all alone all over again.

He cried so much the first night without her that his lungs burned and his heartbeat pounded painfully in his head. Hours had passed before he eventually exhausted himself, falling asleep curled up on her side of the bed. When he awoke the next morning, he was suddenly very grateful no one would be able to see just how red and swollen his eyes were under the shades he wore.

There's a feeling of exhaustion that is unexplainable to those who haven't lost anything. Scott’s mind couldn't handle the rapid changing of emotions coursing through him. The regret he felt for every time he didn't put his all in when it came to Jean. The desperation he felt to find some way to get her back, some hint that she was alive somehow. The guilt he felt for every argument they'd had. That he hadn't told her ‘I love you’ the day she died. At the end of it all came acceptance.

With acceptance came numbness. Everything he did reminded him of Jean, so he chose to do nothing at all.

Logan of all people seemed concerned about him. Scott feels a little queasy when he thinks back to the jet, about how he clung to the older man. He felt safe with him, although that's something he'd never admit – even if he knows there's no point trying to hide it; Logan's the only one Scott’s let visit him since he lost Jean.

“She's been askin’ about you, y’know.” Logan didn't have to say who he was speaking about for Scott to know it was you. You had tried to speak to him once he returned to the school after the mission, and he had instantly pushed past you. It wasn't your fault, not really. You just reminded him too much of her in the way you acted. He couldn't stomach your presence right now. He didn't feel strong enough.

“Don't start lecturing me. I don't have the energy for your shit tonight.” Scott remembers how hard he had to try not to let his voice waver. How hard it was not to tell Logan how badly he needed comforting. He was a leader, first and foremost. He wouldn't break down. Not in front of him.

“You should at least come out ‘n eat somethin’.” Scott can't remember the last time he felt hungry.

“Nah. Nah, I can't face the kids like this.” That was the end of the conversation. Every time you or Logan have tried to visit him since has been met with silence and avoidance. He's never felt this pathetic before in his life.

It's better this way, he thinks, curling up with one of Jean's old shirts. The smell is starting to fade. He cries himself to sleep for the first time that night since she died.

˗ˏˋ ☆ ˎˊ˗

“He's grieving, Logan. You just gotta give him time.”

A scowl spreads across the man's face at your words, brows pinching together as he brings the lighter to his mouth, igniting the cigar he has perched between his lips. He takes a few puffs, breathing the smoke out through his nose as he leans back in the chair.

“He's bein’ a fuckin’ asshole, s'what he's doin’.” He grunts, running a hand through his hair. His gaze is distant at your words. Directed at you, but going right through you. “We're all grievin’. Bastard's just gonna end up killin’ himself at this rate.”

“He loved her, Logan. He's gonna need time to process it.” You say with a sigh, running a hand over your face. Your free hand absentmindedly taps against the table, fingers cycling one by one against the hardwood. The noise draws Logan's gaze downwards, and he scoffs slightly.

“I loved–” Logan pauses. I loved her, he was going to say, but it didn't feel right. He loved the idea of her. Loved her like a friend, once he’d truly gotten to know her. I love him, is what he wants to say, but it isn't the time or the place. What good would it do?

“Doesn’t matter.” He huffs after a moment, grabbing the bottle of whiskey from the jacket hanging off the back of his chair, unscrewing the lid and gulping some down. Nothing he can think of seems right to say at this moment.

Logan can't ever remember feeling so hopeless.

˗ˏˋ ☆ ˎˊ˗

Numbness bleeds away to self-destruction. Scott can't help but feel as though there's something he should be punished for. He could have tried harder to save Jean. He should have. Maybe she'd still be here if he had.

It's the third time he's been to the Danger Room this week. His muscles still ache from last time, each step he takes causing discomfort to shoot through his legs. The pain is a welcome distraction from his grief. A reminder that he was still alive.

Once Scott is thrown into combat, his mind goes blank. He's able to focus – finally – as his brain quietens down. He blocks each and every attack that comes his way with a hand or an arm, leaving his visor untouched. He has no desire to use his powers today, not when each hit he sustains makes him feel alive again. Makes him forget.

The simulation around him falters and fades, and it feels as though his entire world comes crumbling around him. He's suddenly aware of the throbbing pain behind his knuckles, the ache spreading upwards until a dull soreness settles in the muscles of his arms. Each blow he'd been unable to block sends searing pain up and down his body now that he's not relying on adrenaline to get him through.

His gaze filters across the room appraisingly, eventually settling on Logan who is slowly approaching. Of course it was Logan. It always came back to him.

“I was training.” Scott snaps. Or attempting to, at least. He's winded and tired and sore, and he doesn't want to have to deal with Logan today if he can help it.

“You were takin’ a beatin’. Not gonna learn anythin’ just letting a bunch of holograms kick the shit out of ya.” Logan grunts in response, taking his space in front of Scott.

“I didn't ask for your advice.”

“I couldn't give a fuck either way. Your attitude is startin’ to piss me off.” Logan growls, stepping closer until he and Scott are barely a few inches apart. His hands come up to push at the younger man’s shoulders, sending him stumbling back a few steps. “Hit me.”

“Sorry, what?” Scott replies, brows knitting together as he stares at Logan through the visor.

“C'mon, I know you've wanted to since the day we met. M’not givin’ you another chance.” Scott’s eyes narrow behind his eyewear, but his hands come up to push harshly at Logan’s chest. The mutant doesn't budge. “Really? I know you can do better than that, bub. Hit me.”

So Scott does. He hits Logan as hard as he can, fist connecting with the rigid muscles of his chest over and over again. The skin of his knuckles crack and break, blood marring his pale skin as he unleashes his frustrations out on Logan. He just takes it, jaw set tight. The only indication any of this hurts is his tense expression and the occasional grunt that spills past his lips.

Logan catches Scott when he eventually collapses against his chest with tears in his eyes, clinging to him just as he had that day on the jet. He holds him there until his breathing evens out and he stops crying.

˗ˏˋ ☆ ˎˊ˗

“Hey, uh… Can I talk to you for a second?” Scott's voice is quiet as he pushes open your door, even in the near silence of your room this late at night. He wasn't sure what he could say to you to make this better. He knows he's been avoiding you. Well, he's been avoiding everyone (except Logan, apparently, who is determined to stick to him like a tick), but he knows you worry about him the most.

“Yeah, sure. What's up?”

“I, uh…” He swallows hard, throat bobbing as he turns his head away. He seems more like a guilty puppy than anything at the moment, tail tucked between his legs as he shifts his weight awkwardly from foot to foot. He scratches at his jaw, stubble irritating his skin that he's been too tired to shave off. “Logan said you were asking about me.”

It's easier to say that then to really address the issue. He wants to speak to you, sure, but he doesn't want to admit how much he's been struggling recently. The idea of speaking about his loss almost feels selfish. You lost her, too. Everyone did. He doesn't know why the idea of speaking Jean's name out loud makes him feel queasy, makes him lightheaded to the point he has to grip the kitchen counter to stop himself from losing balance.

“Yeah… Well, I've been worried. I knocked at your door a few times, but you never answered.” You're not like Logan, you don't just barge in. He's not sure whether he appreciates that fact or not at this moment. He's missed seeing you. He almost regrets hiding away these past few weeks, but he's been acting downright pathetic. You look up to him, and he didn't want you to see him like that, anyway.

“You don't need to be worried about me. I'm alright, sweetheart. Honestly.” He has to be, doesn't he? That's his job. You don't need to know how much he's struggling.

It's a good thing he's doing such a terrible job at hiding it. You raise your eyebrows at him, the muscle in his jaw twitching as he realises he's not getting away with it when it comes to you. He clears his throat, tilting his head away from you.

“I'm fine, seriously–”

“You've been holed up in your room for over a month now. No one's expecting you to be at your best, but you're not even giving yourself a chance to feel better. You can't keep going on like this.”

“Don't.”

“I'm just saying that you're not doing yourself any favours–” A scowl crosses his features as his head snaps back to face you. He stiffens up, pulling his shoulders back. Acting like a cornered animal.

“You don't know the half of what it's been like for me. You barely knew her. You've… what? Been around a few months? Now you wanna lecture me about how to feel?”

He's raising his voice now, and you can't help but mirror his tone. Your body tenses, words sharper when you speak again. “I'm only trying to help–”

“I never asked for your help.” He snaps.

“What're you girls fightin’ about this time?” A third voice cuts in. You and Scott both turn to see Logan standing at the door, arms crossed over his chest as he leans against the frame. His gaze travels between the two of you, taking in the tension in the room.

“Nothing.” Scott huffs, turning away from him once more. Logan clicks his tongue in response, shaking his head as he steps past the threshold and into your room.

“Could hear both of you from my room.” Logan says, shutting the door behind him. “Hate to say it, but the kid's got a point.”

A muscle in Scott's jaw twitches as he tilts his head to look back at Logan, his body still tense as if he's expecting a fight. He'd rather that than the alternative, but when he sees how you're both looking at him, he knows it's going to be a long conversation if he keeps avoiding the issue.

He breaks far quicker than expected when he notices the expression on Logan's face. He was ready for annoyance, disbelief, indifference, even – anything but concern painting the older man's features. Maybe he's been looking for an excuse to be honest. He doesn't know, but the words come tumbling out before he can stop them, and all he feels is relief.

“I just–” Scott pauses, then swallows, then sucks a harsh breath in through his teeth. You don't need to see his eyes to know he's crying. It isn't long before the tears break past the edge of his shades, travelling down his cheeks in small trails. “I just want to forget her.

I know I shouldn't say that, I just… fuck. Just for a couple hours, or… just something. She's constantly on my mind and I just… I need to breathe.”

He watches as you and Logan share a wordless exchange before moving towards him. The hands that find him are warm and firm and so damn distracting. He lets out a choked sob as he leans into you, arms wrapping around your body as Logan's strong hands grip at his shoulders. His thumbs press into his flesh and rub circles in his tense muscles to soothe him, all while he's clinging to you like he's scared you'll disappear. Truth be told, a part of him is absolutely terrified he might lose you – he's even scared he might lose Logan, that his healing factor will somehow fail or be rendered useless one day and he'd be left truly alone.

He's so lost in his own mind that he barely registers your thumbs brushing the tears off his cheeks, doesn't even hear your whispered words of comfort. But when your lips meet his, everything quietens down for a moment.

When you kiss Scott, it's soft and sweet. The tension bleeds away from his shoulders as he kisses you back, eyes fluttering shut. His hands find your hips, tugging you flush against his body. His lips part further as he feels Logan press against him from behind, leaving him panting into your mouth for a few seconds as he feels Logan's steadily hardening length pressing against his ass and the scratch of his facial hair against his skin as the other man presses kisses along the back of his neck.

You tug Scott's face closer again, and he kisses you back almost mindlessly. Your tongue slides along his lower lip, and he parts them immediately granting you entry. He sucks on the wet muscle before he's licking into your mouth, desperate to taste more of you, feel more of you.

A hand that's too big and too rough to be yours slides under the fabric of his boxers to squeeze his cock. He whimpers against your lips, jaw growing slack as Logan starts to lazily stroke him while grinding against him. He's starting to feel a little dizzy, his legs weak as heat pools in his lower belly. Scott can feel hands tugging and pulling at him, guiding him to the bed on the other side of the room. He lets himself be led without any complaints, the distraction making him desperate. Pliable. He hasn't felt this way since–

The thought leaves him as Logan pushes him back onto your sheets. You watch closely as Logan's hands greedily roam Scott's body, hitching his shirt up so he can lick and bite the toned skin of Scott's stomach.

“Fucking Christ.” Scott hisses, jerking under Logan. When Logan lifts his head from his stomach, the shape of his teeth is visible, and a small amount of blood is visible on his grin. Logan is quick to pull Scott's clothing free, and you shimmy forward to help.

“Open up.” Logan grunts as he taps two fingers against your bottom lip. They part easily, allowing the digits to press against your tongue. You suck and lick at them eagerly, the taste of cigars lingering on the skin as you coat him in your saliva.

The fingers pop free, and he slides his hand down the inside of Scott's thighs until his fingers – warm and wet with your saliva – prod at his entrance. Scott's expression is tense, his chest heaving at the intrusion as Logan sinks his digits in slowly. A whine spills from his lips, hips jerking as he grips at the sheets with enough pressure that his knuckles turn white.

“Fuuuck.” He hisses once more, back arching as you spit in your palm and enclose your fingers around his hard, leaky cock, pumping his length slowly. He's going to go mad. There's no way he can last, not like this. Between Logan scissoring him open and your hand squeezing and stroking, he's going to paint his stomach in less than a minute. “It's too much… please.”

The fingers withdraw from his ass, making him whimper in protest. That is until the blunt head of the other man's cock prods at him, his hips jerking into your grip helplessly as a new string of curses fall from his lips.

“Look so fuckin’ sexy like this.” Logan groans, slowly sinking into him until his hips are flush against Scott's ass. His claws prick gently at the skin of his knuckles, barely unsheathing as he struggles not to immediately rut into the tight heat surrounding him. Scott cums in an instant as the sharp tips graze his skin, ropes of white coating the taut muscles of his stomach.

Your hand continues to stroke him through his orgasm, but then it isn't stopping. And Logan starts to thrust, knocking a choked gasp out of Scott. He writhes under the both of you, chest heaving with heavy breaths. He gasps and whines, torn between bucking into your hand and crawling across the bed to get away from the overwhelming pleasure.

Scott isn't even aware he's been begging until Logan laughs all throaty. Your grip tightens as you pump him with more vigour, his cock twitching in your grasp. “Shit, Scott. Didn't realise you were this much of a slut.”

Scott's body is tense, but he can't form the words to argue with the other man. His lips part, but all that comes out is a needy whine as your lips enclose around his head. His mind is gone – all he can manage is rocking his hips into your mouth, then back to meet Logan's thrusts. His hands move from the sheets to grip your hair, pushing you down further onto his length until he's nudging at the back of your throat. His breaths come out in short pants, thighs twitching as another orgasm approaches.

Logan's hand slides down your back as you work on bringing Scott to the edge, sliding under your pants to tease your entrance. He groans under his breath when he's met with how wet you are, his fingers dipping into your cunt and curling until you're moaning around Scott's cock. Every time he fucks into you, the force of it sends Scott further down your throat.

“Gonna… gonna cum, baby. Fuck.” Scott breathes out, the only warning you get before he coats your tongue with his release. You swallow as much as you can, a mixture of drool and cum leaking past the seam of your lips as you pull off of him.

Logan growls as he feels Scott tightening around him, and it only takes a few more thrusts before he's spilling into Scott. His hand falters slightly for a moment before he shifts, pulling you closer so he can thumb at your clit as his fingers drive into you.

“Come on, baby. Give Scottie a little show, yeah? You gonna cum for us?” His voice comes out breathless, his gaze flicking between you and Scott, who's lazily gazing at you as he attempts to catch his breath. You nod eagerly, head falling back against Logan as you reach for Scott's hand, giving it a small squeeze.

A few more skillful movements of Logan’s fingers has you gasping, body tensing as your climax hits you. Your thighs clamp around Logan's hand, your grip on Scott's making the man wince. You collapse after a moment, but not before you and Logan crawl either side of Scott, curling up against him. He wraps an arm around each of you, nosing at your hair.

For the first time in a while, a small smile curls at the corner of his lips.

#logan howlett x you #scott summers x you #scott summers x logan howlett #logan howlett x reader #logan howlett smut #logan howlett #scott summers x reader #scott summers #xmen #xmen smut #scogan

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cardigan-ns · 1 month

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My first call

Pairing: Ben Hargreeves x Little Sister!Reader

Request: can u do ben hargreeves x little sister reader? maybe some angst? (season 4)

Summary: You two were the only ones who survived the sparrow academy, he was your sole caregiver and he was trying desperately to make ends meet in this messed up universe, he ended up getting arrested and sent to prison for 4 years.

A/N: it’s also a little bit of Luther x Little sister!Reader too

Ben hated his father for stranding him in this timeline, not only was his entire family dead, but he had no money and the only sibling of his that was alive was his 11 year old sister. He loved her to pieces but he was struggling really bad with how to keep her happy and stable. She was his rock, anything he did, he did for her. She was his fighting chance at actually coping in life. But she knew just as much as him that some days were worse than others, they’d both sob to eachother sometimes after remembering the rest of the sparrow academy and how they’re now gone, ceased from existence.

He cursed the umbrella academy, how do they get to be reset and alive and he has to mourn his brothers and sisters while they all get to play happy family. They keep inviting him to things, and he keeps declining, he didn’t see the point, they’re strangers to him, they broke into his home one day and refused to leave him alone since. He wasn’t their Ben so why are they constantly holding on to him. All they’re doing is confusing his sister and he’d hope they’d cool off eventually but they never did.

2 years have passed and Ben is now feeling stable for once since landing here, Y/N was doing great in school, her grades were excellent, even better than what Ben was gaining at that age. His scams were earning him a lot of cash, yes he was bankrupting thousands of people at a time but who gives a shit, he’s able to buy his sister everything she needs and wants and she is very grateful for it. Although she doesn’t exactly know how he’s doing it, she expected he was getting the money from their father.

“Hey Ben?” You called from the table, you sat doing your homework. Ben was cooking you guys some dinner and glanced over his shoulder to acknowledge your calling. “How come we never see those umbrella people?” You questioned, you always wondered who those strangers truly were, from what you saw of them, they seemed like genuine people, a little off their rocker but meaning well. Ben just sighed at the mention of those utter morons and set the spatula down. “I’ve told you to stop asking about them. All they are is the reason we’re alive, big deal.” He blew off some steam in his response to you, all you were looking for was some small talk to help pass the time between algebra equations and dinner, but here Ben was throwing a hissy fit again. Like always.

You had the same stubbornness as him, so with a set down of your pen you glared at him, he glared at you. “I saw that one of them sent a card in the mail. You still haven’t opened it.” Ben rolled his eyes and remembered the card that Luther had sent the two of you, he had a feeling it’d be a bunch of nonsense and that’s why he ignored never tearing the envelope open. “Leave it.” He concluded the argument and plated your dinner.

Tonight was an odd night, Ben was more on edge than usual, he kept opening his laptop and closing it, wouldn’t eat all his dinner, kept changing the channels on the TV. He even payed the gas bill on time, he usually leaves it for as long as possible so he can con the gas man, gives him a discount because they think he can’t afford it and he pulls the “little sister” card, hoping that’d buy him some brownie points. You sat on your bed, reading an old edition of your favourite comic, Ben knocked on your door, holding a box of donuts. “Hey, I wanted to apologise for earlier.” He sat at the edge of your bed, you didn’t even care about the argument, you’ve had worse, but what you did care about were the treats he was handing you. “And you’re forgiven.” You immediately took the box from him and took a bite out of the sugary delicacy.

Ben laughed slightly at your immediate dismissal and he took a donut too, after he was eating it he looked over at you who had somehow got sugar everywhere. “How the hell…” he laughed again. You just shrugged your shoulders, closing the box and setting it on your bedside table. Ben stood up, yanking you off the bed and he brushed you out of the room, you knew exactly what he was asking you to do. Get clean bed sheets. You loved him but sometimes he was such a neat freak. You went and got some and walked back to find your bed stripped from the blue covers, Ben chucked the dirty laundry in the basket and he turned on the radio in your room. “You were supposed to change these last night, it’s like you were waiting to cover it in sugar.” You looked at him with narrowed eyes like he’d just caught you out on your extravagant plan. You set the folded piles of sheets on your chair and you jumped on your bed.

Ben just sighed as you completely ignored him clearly trying to change the bed. “Stop being difficult. It’ll take five minutes!” he had to looked up at you as you jumped in the air and back on your mattress repeatedly. “Ben come on, remember anytime dad made us go around and routinely change everyone sheets.” That was their chore, Ben always had you to tag along with him, he was your personal assistant, funny how life works, it’s the same old. But he does recall how on every bed, to ‘make sure it’s safe’ you’d jump on it and after a few moments of bickering so would he, he always had a mushy side to him, relatively a mushy side that was reserved for you.

“Screw you!” He muttered as he hopped on the bed too, and as the music on the radio played, you and Ben had a moment of peace, one that you haven’t felt in a very long time, you didn’t need to be suscepted to such violent trauma at a young age, Ben could barely handle it as a fully grown adult, he was always cautious at how he treated you, usually resulting in you feeling sheltered, he felt like if you had too much of a good time you’d crash out, remembering all the bad. But he was just happy and grateful to still have a moment like this with you.

Having spent the past 2 years watching over you, Ben grew to realise it’s always been his role to parent you, not his father, it brought him grief along with new found appreciation for the gift he was given, he still remembers when Reginald brought you home. There was a malfunction with your marigold, causing yours to appear at a later date, a lot later than the rest of the 43.

The sparrows were 19 when he brought you home in a stroller, Ben was hesitant at first, wondering if since you were new, Reginald would make you number 1, but seeing as you weren’t stealing his thunder, he kind of liked keeping you around. You always got sick as a child though, Grace tried her best to heal you but it was some nurture that always helped. Which is why Ben read some of his comics to you, taught you how to draw, taught you what good music was, gave you some fashion sense when you grew out of Hello Kitty and Barbie. Even though you swore you were a ‘grown up’ you kept that hello kitty nightlight by your bedside, even now. When you got scattered in this new timeline you couldn’t sleep for 2 months, until Ben purchased an exact replica, then you could finally get through to the morning.

That’s why it hurt even more when the cops raided the apartment after your calming moment. They dragged him out of your room, placing him under arrest for fraud and bankrupting thousands. One of the cops broke your night light, and broke your home…

“Y/N, I’ll sort this out okay? You’ll be my first call.” He tried to shake the burly men who held him in cuffs, they dragged him out of the room as his eyes poured with tears, guilt and horror. He was trying to keep you safe, trying to save some of your childhood, and now he’s gone and fucked it all up. You’ll never forgive him, he thought. The cops were dragging him out the door as you quickly shuffled to chase him, you were shocked and petrified. “Let me talk to my fucking sister.” Ben yelled and the cops figured he better, seeing as she was only a kid. “I don’t know where they’re going to take you, but I’m gonna come home, okay. I’ll find you.” He spoke softly as to mend your heart as it got ripped to shreds. And then he was out of sight, after that touching moment, your eyes welled into tears and you were shaking. He was all you had left.

One lesser aggressive cop, knelt down by you as they dragged your brother away from you. “Hi, sweetheart, I know this is a lot to process, but I’m going to stay here with you while some social workers arrive. They’re going to help you, the best they can.” Right now you wish you had your power, to just stop time, run down the hall and give Ben one last hug, you figured that’s the last you’d ever see him, no goodbye, no closure, your bed wasn’t even made.

“I’m not going to some home. Different parents. No. I’m not talking to a social worker. I’m staying here, waiting for them to bring Ben home. He didn’t do what you’re accusing him of!” You argued with the man in uniform, your lip quivering as you tried to stay strong, stand your ground, but you were just a kid wanting her safety back. The officer just gave you a saddened look, as if all you wanted couldn’t be. “Well do you have anyone you can call?” His question would’ve been easy if your other siblings survived the fucking apocalypse the umbrellas brought. Then as if a lightbulb went off you ran to the kitchen counter and grabbed the envelope from the top of the microwave, ripping it open.

‘Dear Ben and Y/N,

Just wanted to remind you that it’s our birthdays soon, I was wondering if maybe you wanted to get dinner sometime? Everyone else is busy…

It’s okay if not,

Luther

[his number]’

You smiled, thanking Luther silently, he was always so formal, you’ve never been happy to see a bunch of randomised numbers, even though that was practically your childhood. “Officer, this is my brother, kind of.” You handed him the letter, he stood up and read through it, nodding, then walking to the next room to make a phone call. You ran to Ben’s room and just laid on his bed, pretending he was just getting the popcorn ready for your Saturday movie nights. A few stray tears fell down your face as you realised he was going to be sleeping in a cell and not his bed.

After a while of crying, your body gave out and you fell asleep, clutching the mini pillow you made for Ben at your youth club.

That’s until, after a while, a gentle hand shook you awake. You rolled over, forgetting all that happened while the sleep wore off. You saw two men before you, the officer and Luther. Luther sat at the edge of the bed, by you, he looked as though he’d been crying too. You haven’t seen him for two years so it was revelling to see one another again. You remembered him being a really nice man, he married your sister, so technically he was family. He and Sloane took you out to mini golf one day, Sloane always cheated, gravitating the ball into the hole. Luther broke about 4 golf clubs and you stopped time and cheated too. You hargreeves were never good at playing fair.

“Hey kiddo.” He muttered as all the memories of Ben’s arrest rushed back to you. You just clung to Luther in a hug and cried in his shoulder, the less stronger man just held you, gazing up at the officer. “I’ll take it from here, sir.” The cop nodded and left the apartment. You sniffled and wiped your eyes even though the waterworks kept on coming. “He’s not a bad guy, Luther.” You kept repeating similar phrases, pleading your brother’s innocence, as if convincing yourself he was getting out that night. “I know, I know.” Luther rubbed your back and he comforted you, it was difficult to see you like this again, the last time he saw you, you were just as devastated when you first got to this timeline.

After a while of him helping you calm back down, you sat beside him on the bed, he was going to stay with you, clean the apartment for you, after the cops made a mess of it, especially your room. It was really late though, you were tired and you just wanted nothing more than for Ben and you to chill while you nerded out about your favourite books. He loved poetry and you loved fantasy. Luther seemed like he likes those things too, if given the right recommendations, but he wasn’t like Ben. “Would you like anything in particular for breakfast tomorrow?” He smiled over to you as you still held the small pillow, looking at it. “I like cereal…” you shrugged, not really having an appetite and not wanting to think about how lonely the morning would be without him there to watch TV with. “Cereals good.” Luther nodded. He figured that once you were asleep he was going to make a run to the all night grocery, to get you a lot of things, he mostly emptied his wallet when he felt guilty.

It was still awkward having him here, and confusing, he was your brother in law, but he was also bens actual brother, but not your Ben, a different Ben, who had the same father but not the father you have. It gave you a headache the more you pondered on where Luther placed in your life. You got off the bed and walked silently to your room, noticing now just how badly it was banjaxed. Luther follows slowly behind and just stood at the door frame. “Just to let you know, I did tell the officer off for doing that.” He let you in on that fact, you just nodded and lifted pieces of your broken light, you sat on the floor, you weren’t going to sleep the whole night, the only way you slept earlier was because it still felt like Ben was here.

Luther lifted the pile of bedsheets that were still on your chair, untouched. The old sheets were still on top of the hamper, Ben still having not cleaned it. Luther got the mattress sheet and tried to put it on, but you immediately stopped him. “No!” You glared, not meaning to be so hasty, and Luther just tilted his head, confused. “But where are you going to sleep? You can just have a bare mattress.” He was trying to help but you took it as him dismissing your problems and trying to take over Ben’s role. “I said no! Just get out!” You yelled at him and Luther immediately dropped the sheets and slumped his shoulders, nodding and leaving you alone in your room. Gently closing the door behind him.

Ben never called, the entire night you sat up, not sleeping a wink, except between 3:45am and 4:23am then you woke, rushing to check the phones past logs, not a single one from Ben. Your room was still a mess, your lamp was still broken on the floor, Luther did try to come back into your room and clean it, not wanting you to get hurt by the shards. But yet again, you screamed at him to leave. And he took that as a hint and didn’t come back in… respectfully listening to your wishes, not getting mad at you for it.

You cried and cried and cried even more. Luther left the house for a little bit, which you later found out was because he went to the store, he slipped a note under your door,

‘Buying you some cereal, won’t be long

:)’

You smiled at his careful consideration to your needs. He was nice for that. Then morning came, you yawned and pulled yourself from the bed, growing more and more agitated the longer it took Ben to call. Maybe he forgot about you, and that hurt more than anything. Because you knew Ben wouldn’t just forget, he loved you. He would want to make sure you were safe.

Luther then drudged into the kitchen, scratching his head, he got out two bowls, and opened up the box of cereal, as you sat at the kitchen table staring at the phone, waiting for it to call. You propped your head up with your elbows, staring and staring and staring. “Good morning.” Luther called over to you and you just nodded, not giving back an answer. He poured the milk into the bowls of cereal and walked towards you, handing you a spoon along with it. “I had a feeling you liked cinnamon toast crunch.” He smiled to you. When he first got kidnapped by the sparrows, way back when, you were eating that while he had his toast and cashew butter.

“Thanks.” You took the bowl from him and took a bite, still looking at the phone.

3 days passed, no call. A week, a month, a year, 2 years, 4 years. 4 fucking years it took for a call.

You were 17 now, on your last year of high school, living in a nice home with Luther, you two had one another, you finally accepted him as your guardian and you two grew very close, turns out you two had more in common than you thought, he was still no Ben, but he was Luther, and you were okay with that. Acceptance, what a chilling thing.

Your niece and sister-in-law were visiting. Claire, she’s the age you were when Ben went away, it was always an odd reminder of how long it’s been. Allison sat in the kitchen with Luther as they talked about what their plans were for Christmas this year, Luther was making them some coffee as the phone rang. You payed no mind to it as you and Claire watched your favourite show across the room, you both decided it would be fun to draw your favourite characters at the coffee table while you watched, it was nice to just unwind and be free with expressing via art, you liked getting to know the umbrellas too, they were all super welcoming and loving, even though they had their differences.

Your favourite was probably Allison though, it was good to have another girl around, she helped you a lot with things that neither Ben nor Luther could help with, she let you stay at hers some nights as your school was closer by than Luther’s place. Lila also had you babysitting her kids sometimes while she went to ‘Book Club’ and Diego worked, they were a great addition to your life too, you even became close with Lila’s relatives and it was mending your soul having people there.

Luther was on the phone for a while, you just assumed it was Viktor, but Luther kept glancing over at you every so often, which was making you worried, your mind wandered to various possibilities. “Uh yeah, but when will that be?” Luther asked down the phone, he then got a notepad and a pen and wrote some things down. This call was distracting you from the peaceful time you were having with Claire and now you walked over to the kitchen, which was connected by an archway. Luther glanced over at you again and continued the call. “Okay, yeah I’ll come get him now.” Him. You yanked the notepad from Luther which had the address to the pickup lot at the state prison. Your mind was racing, he was finally getting out, finally coming home. But you weren’t as hopeful to see him as you used to be. It’s not that you’ve moved on, it’s just that you resented him for not calling when he said he would.

“Wanna come with me?” Luther asked as he knew you’d put the pieces together, the prison wasn’t that long of a drive maybe an hour and 30 minutes. It took you a while to even make your mind up about that, but Allison held your hand from where you stood. “I’m sure he had a good reason for doing what he did.” She squeezed your hand and you just didn’t move, still confused. If he did have a good reason for leaving you in the dark it better be extremely fucking good of an excuse. Or else you wouldn’t let him off easy. Allison stood up and hugged you before she and Claire had to go back home and pick up Klaus from their house.

You held her tightly, knowing that if Ben comes back, maybe he would isolate her from her new found family again. “Bye, Allison.” You mumbled into her shoulder and she laughed slightly rubbing your back and pulling away to look at you, her cheek caressing your face, “He’s missed you, I know he has.” You just smiled, not truly believing that, she just held her free hand out for Claire and you just sighed knowing they had to go home, and you and Luther had to go get Ben, it was actually happening. “You can call me about it later if you’d like.” She assured you and that made you feel a whole lot better about it. You just gave her a thumbs up and she made her exit.

In the car with Luther was anything less than fun. He tried to play some music, tried to play ‘i spy’, as if you were four, and even tried to sing. All of which made you even more tense. You love this bafoon but right now was not the time, which he shortly caught on to. “I know you’re anxious, remember what the doctor said, use your senses.” You’d been in therapy for a while, having too much to spew to them, you and Luther figured it was for the best if you went weekly. You listened to Luther’s advice and focused on everything around you.

Then he began to pull up to the gate, and parked the car. He turned to face you, “Okay, no matter what happens, we will get through this together, as a family, and I know that once he’s back on his feet, you’ll probably stay with him again.” He smiled, but you didn’t even think about that, not much, not deeply, not anymore. You missed Ben being there, but you were free now, stable, even though you bought another hello kitty night light with the money you earned from your part time job. “But I’m always available if you want to stay.” He smiled lovingly, and put his hand up to high five you. “We got this, Kiddo.” He smiled and opened the car door, as did you, as you guys did that they opened the prison doors and released Ben, who was in the very outfit he was arrested in, as if time stopped and you were 13 again, you didn’t realise just how difficult this would be, but here you were, going through it.

Ben halted once he saw Luther, “Fuck me.” He muttered to himself, then you emerged and his demeanour softened significantly. You’ve gotten so much older, he’d missed out on so many years with you. You stood there, hands in your pockets, a little guarded. Then Luther, nudged you, “Go say hello. He’s not a stranger.” Luther smiled at you, encouraging you to do this, he knew that deep down you’ve been praying for this moment since he left. Ben walked to the end of the fenced prison and was by the car, he didn’t know how to approach you, whether you’d kick him, hug him or punch him.

“Look at you,” Ben frowned, regretting ever committing fraud, regretting not providing for you normally. “You look like shit.” You responded back to him, noticing just how run down prison made him. You had a right to be angry but Ben just didn’t expect you to be so cold. He just nodded and Luther stood behind you trying to figure out how to ease the hostility, but to no conclusion as you spoke again.

“Get in the car, we’ve got places to be.” You completely dismissed Ben, and he seemed like someone just ripped his heart out and played basketball with it. “Jesus.” He lowered his head and shoved his bag in the car, taking the ego wound and sitting in the back seat, while you and Luther took the front. The engine started and off you guys went to the birthday party of your other niece.

When the car pulled up outside the play area Luther thought it’d be best to walk in already and leave the two of you to hash it out in the car, until you were ready to come in. You mentally cursed Luther because of that, you didn’t want to talk to Ben, you weren’t prepared.

“Why didn’t you call me?” You sat in the front seat playing with the hem of your hoodie, and Ben sat directly behind you, it’s as if it were confessions. He just gazed out the window and remembered how he promised you, he swore to you that he would, yet never followed through with it. “I didn’t want to give you false hope.” He spoke bluntly, sending a harsh chill down your spine, your brother would’ve gave you the benefit of the doubt, would’ve called to say he wouldn’t be home for a while, wouldn’t have just left you wondering without closure.

“You didn’t go to my trial, didn’t visit. I thought I did the right thing.” He was so sure in himself and you just scoffed, exiting the car and attempting to storm away to the building, but Ben quickly hopped out after you. “Stop! Okay? We aren’t done here.” Your face was completely and utterly gobsmacked. “Oh, aren’t we? You left me no other choice, how the hell was I meant to know? Nobody alerted me there was a trial, I was practically fighting to survive, I didn’t give Luther a chance and now you’re wondering why I gave up on you? Because you did it to me first!” You yelled a little too loud for this area, children and parents walking to and from the play place.

Ben just shook his head, aggravatingly, “You just couldn’t wait to talk to Luther. Always, Ben why haven’t we talked to him? Ben open the letter, Ben we need these people. Now look what they’ve done to you. You’re just as spiteful as them!” Ben was always defensive, casting blame to anyone but himself, self righteous in a way, which you never realised until now. “Jesus Christ, do you actually hear yourself? And what did I tell you? They’re good people. The only spiteful one is you!” You pointed to him in a fit of rage. “I was a child, with no guardian, no home, of course I was going to reach out to the only people I fucking knew.” You screamed your hands waving in the air to get your point across, Ben needed this reality check, he was away in disaster land.

Ben realised the gravity of his arrest now, how lonely and cursed she must’ve felt, but yet again he wasn’t going to let her make him the complete bad guy here. “I was doing what I needed, to keep us alive.” He breathed out knowing you wouldn’t see that, you were still very angry, and torn, on one hand you were overwhelmed at him being here and talking with you again, and on the other, you’re deeply missing your brother, wishing he didn’t do what he did. You just wanted your old bond back.

“I don’t know what to do.” You shrugged, helpless to this experience. “But I do know that the people in there, they’re just trying to make us part of their family. So let them.” You were commanding in your tone, just hoping Ben would consider it, when you finished talking he was against it completely. “Have you forgot what they’ve done? Our family, OUR ACTUAL FAMILY, are dead! Because of those fucking degenerate assholes.” He crossed his arms now sitting on the bench by the front door, looking at the ground. “I don’t want to replace them with carbon copies.” His voice somber, making you remember The Sparrow Academy and all the things you experienced with your short-lived-family.

You sat by Ben, interlocking your arm with his, showing him that you were on his side, after all, that’s what the both of you were fighting about. Ben glanced at you before resting his head by yours. “I’m sorry I didn’t call…” he spoke quietly and you just sighed. “I know you are.” You just accepted that you can’t go back and change what he’d done, he was ashamed and took the cowards way out, knowing he’d have years before he’d face you again. He just didn’t expect you to grow up with the same short temper and stubbornness as him.

You loved Ben and you hoped that whenever you got to Luther’s place that night, that you could jump on the bed to the radio blasting again, just like old times.

#ben hargreeves x reader #Ben hargreeves x little sister reader #sparrow!ben #sparrow ben #the umbrella academy #the umbrella academy season 4 #tua #little sister reader #ben hargreeves #umbrella academy #luther hargreeves #Luther x Little sister reader #allison hargreeves #claire hargreeves #luther hargreeves x reader

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ronearoundblindly · 1 month

Note

I have an idea for “how would…” !

It comes from a prank I’m seeing on tiktok lately of couples staying in a hotel room with 2 beds.

How would the guys react to reader saying they can sleep in separate beds tonight? 😆

Inspo: https://www.tiktok.com/t/ZP81dBS8k/

That's freaking hilarious, the link, but we've got lots of babes to cover! (Also...guess who realized Jake was missing from the banner? 😳👈 This doof.)

Warnings for, well, discussing couples and bed/bedtime activities but it's not real bad. MINORS DNI to be safe!

James Mace

You know what's tiny? A space bunk. He will starfish like a mothaf**ker on that queen size, and you gotta just give him that from time to time. If the stay in the hotel is just one night (and there's been no other time away from you recently), absolutely he will stretch out, pillows everywhere, each limb under a separate layer,--seriously though why are there nine layers of blankets and sheets? that's nuts--and no alarm if at all possible. However, if the stay is longer or the hotel is for a specific couple's vacation thing, then no, he would never spend a whole night outside of your bed. Maybe a nap after too much sun, or likely some space if he (or you) is feeling ill, but otherwise, Mace is very good at sharing resources with people he likes.

Curtis Everett

Oof. I really had to think about this guy. Some of Mace applies here, too, but Curtis likes the idea of having extra room far more than he likes using the room. I think he would try to fall asleep in the other bed for whatever reason, and then inevitably just crawl back in with you. He has never made it a whole night away, even if he falls asleep on the couch at home. He always has to be within arm's reach by the time you wake up.

Jimmy Dobyne

No. Nope. Not in the slightest.

He doesn't particularly like waste, so he might call down to see if there is a room with just one bed available, in case some other guests could use the two. Jimmy also hates the fuss of cleaning. He's acutely aware of how much effort would go into remaking the second bed (washing, etc) and won't even put things on top of the unused bed for the whole stay. Not your bag. Not your butt. Not a towel. Nada.

Johnny Storm

Few quick questions: this hotel is fireproof, right? The bedding, okay, but what about the carpet? The curtains? Are the headboards made of wood? Is the varnish flammable? You don't know? Shit, well, he needs to know.

I feel like Johnny has to have like a special tarp thing to lay over normal bed linens, but honestly, I can't really see how he's ever safe to sleep outside of his own customized bedroom. People do not have complete control while they are unconscious. That's super dangerous for folks like Johnny. Reed's fine because what's the worst that could happen, his foot actually hangs off the edge of the mattress? If we were talking about Ben, the weight-capacity would be a concern, too, so even if you are fine to sleep in the same bed as Johnny and sometimes get burned a bit...I...I'm just not convinced a hotel would want extraneous furniture in there.

That's not a sexy answer, but it's the one you're getting.

Jake Jensen

Dude can fall asleep any. where. any. time. However, if he is lucid enough to pick where he'll fall asleep, it will always be with you...

...after hysterically jumping around like a kid on the extra bed.

I'll just, yeah, leave you with that image. Have fun. Stay weird, Jake.

Lloyd Hansen

If you two are actively doing something--yes, of course, I mean sex or sexual acts or whatever nasty word Lloyd wants to call it--then you are in the same...general area. That's not limited to a bed.

For sleeping, real sleeping, separate beds are 99% of the time a must. There is one exception to this: if Lloyd has been worn out or injured badly on a job--which is so rare--and if it's not quite bad enough to be in a hospital hooked to machines to keep him alive, then he becomes a sort of energy leech and keeps you very close all the time. This is Lloyd's vampire phase. As you can probably deduce, it is not about you, but he will take whatever he can from you.

Ari Levinson

50/50. Ari is moody. He changes with the wind (not in a bad way but for all the small, subtle stuff), and he sometimes just fancies a bit of something different. Take that as you will--and by that I mean run with it because I am totally talking about all sorts of different things to do in bed. He's the type of man who does better with a bit of alone time, too. Never means any offense by it. Just has spells of needing socializing and needing quiet.

Ransom Drysdale

Literally, I feel like I always have the same answer for Ran: it depends on when this is in your relationship and what the hotel stay is for.

Early on in dating, he aires on the side of caution and goes by his mood and yours. If there's been frustration in the day--due to his family or work or anything--then maybe you need some space. When Ransom is in a relationship, for real, he's actually very attuned to the tone of sex--which, of course, will happen no matter the mood of the day--so a lot of connection and intimacy will tell him it's good to stay close while a simpler, transactional need to get off tells him the other bed might be best.

Ran, however, would not get--or enjoy--the 'prank' of this challenge, and stop goddamn filming him for tiktok!

Steve Rogers

Pardon my language, but are you fucking kidding? The look on Steve's face if you so much as hinted... His head would immediately be spinning with 'what did I do wrong?' and 'what romantic gesture can I make right here right now to fix it?'

He's a simple man, and that is a simple no.

Bucky Barnes

Trickier. Much trickier.

Hmm. How to explain...

This feels like a whole season of 'What If...?' but I'll try to simplify.

Are you an Avenger or agent? Are you two on a mission together? I think Bucky is hardcore about keeping sharp and professional during those times. Sleep shifts. Minimal touching. The whole nine yards because safety is paramount. Is there some reason there could be surveillance of you two and you're supposed to be a couple? Bucky can put on one hell of a show like that. Just saying. I doubt, however, that he would mix business and pleasure unless absolutely necessary.

Are you a civilian? Is he a civilian now? Then no, he's in that one bed holding you until the second (maybe third) snooze cycle rings on his alarm. He's notorious for giving himself cushions of time, so it's never him needing to rush out on the average day. It took a while to adjust, but Buck can now also vacation with the best of them. Takes advantage of all the bells and whistles: minibar, room service, and the 'do not disturb' sign. Champion vacationer, he is, of this I have no doubt.

Thank you for asking!

A/N: Mace is a sleeper fave of mine, and I would do anything for that man, I swear... Also, would someone like to tell me why Bucky gets soooo 🥵 in all of these. My god, what am I feeding that boi?

[Main Masterlist; Who Would...Asks; Ko-Fi]

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blossom-hwa · 2 months

Text

in the absence of heartbeats | k.th

pairing: Taehyun x gender neutral!reader genre: angst, fluff, vampire!taehyun, medium!reader warnings: violence word count: 4.8k notes: — been thinking of this idea for a while but the idea of writing a whole fic for it is very tiring so I decided to just write out this scene lol — for some clarification, my definition of a "medium" is just someone who can see and speak to ghosts! nothing more than that :) After a harrowing night, you find comfort in the cold arms of one with no heartbeat, but much warmth in his heart.

TXT Masterlist

It's close to two in the morning when you finally decide to leave the library. Your eyes are burning from the light of your computer and there's an ache in your neck from hunching over a desk for way too long, so even though you're not quite done with your essay you end up calling it quits. You haven't written anything substantial in the last half hour anyway.

All the while you're packing up, a prickle of unease won't stop rippling up and down your spine. It doesn't stop when you leave the room, footsteps echoing loudly in the halls, nor does it stop when you actually exit the library and step into the cool night air. A light wind breezes past your face, but it doesn't soothe you like it normally does after hours spent cramped in one of the quiet study rooms. You find yourself tensing up instead.

Experience tells you not to ignore the feeling. If the hair on your neck is standing up, it means something. What it could mean right now, you aren't sure—you've left the library late and made the short trek back to your apartment many times without issue—but something is wrong.

You look out at your dark campus, its sidewalks lit only by lamps and the moon. You look back at the library and its windows full of warm light. Almost unconsciously, you find yourself drawing the silver knife you always keep tucked away. You feel a little safer with the blade in your hand, but the prickle of unease doesn't fade away.

It's just so...empty. So quiet. Which shouldn't be that weird—it's nearly two in the morning, of course campus is going to be empty and quiet—but something about tonight's silence still feels unsettling. You glance around the expanse of campus again, and then it hits you.

There are no ghosts.

Instantly all of your exhaustion disappears, replaced by a heightened wariness at the situation. There aren't many ghosts who linger at your university—not compared to other places, at least—but there are usually a few hanging around. In fact, you've never been in an open place where there no ghosts, period. As you scan the campus perimeter again, your heart begins to race when you confirm that there are indeed no ghosts around, not even one trailing morosely over the quad.

Ghosts go where they wish. They usually tend to linger around their place of death or somewhere important to them when they were alive, but that's by their own choice. They're not bound to any one place like so many people believe. For them all to be avoiding your campus...

What—or who—could have chased them all away?

You swallow. Whoever they are, whatever they are, you don't want to meet them. Which means you need to get out of here as soon as possible.

So you hurry down the library steps, then start speed walking back to your apartment as fast as you can. It's just fifteen minutes away. You'll be fine.

Except, five minutes in, you realize that you haven't left the strange absence of ghosts behind.

In fact, it might just be following you.

You fight the urge to look back. Someone or something must be following you, but who the fuck would follow you from the library back to your apartment? Why the fuck would anyone want to? As far as anyone except a select group of people knows, you're just a regular college student struggling through finals week like the rest of them. The people who know you can see ghosts, or who at least know that something about you is linked to the supernatural, have no reason to follow you home.

Except...

Except one.

Your heart drops. Sanya. The guy who's been pestering you for weeks—the guy who asked you once if you could see ghosts, and who kept trying to catch you unawares to ask over and over and over again. Each time you said no. Each time you asked if he was feeling alright in the head. You're a good actor and you know it, but he just wasn't buying it for whatever reason until a couple weeks ago when you finally blew up on him and told him to stop invading your damn space. He hasn't bothered you since then, so you thought he finally believed you, or at least got the message to leave you alone.

Maybe not, though. You didn't think he was unhinged enough to have chased away all ghosts by virtue of his presence, but right now you have to consider all possibilities. Desperation can make people do crazy things. Talking to ghosts...you should know that.

You should've stayed back at the library with its warm glow and well-lit rooms. At least there was a security guard there. But you didn't know, and it's too late to go back. All you can do is keep going and hope you make it back to your apartment before Sanya—or whatever it is that's following you—gets you first.

...The streets are really quiet right now.

The sick taste of fear rises in your throat. You're already walking as fast as you can but you try to go a little faster, all the while clenching your knife so tightly your knuckles feel like they might split. With shaking hands, you also pull out your phone and dial a number as fast as you can with numb fingers. Answer, you pray. Please answer, please, please please—

The call goes through.

"Hey, Kai," you say as normally as you can. Thank god, thank god, thank god—Kai won't ask questions, and he'll catch on easily. "Where are you? I'm just ten minutes away—"

"Y/N?"

That's not Kai.

That's Taehyun. Taehyun who always felt a little strange to you, a bit like a ghost but physical and solid and real. Taehyun who has no heartbeat. Taehyun who laughed when you confronted him about it, and challenged you to figure out what kind of supernatural creature he is without him telling you. Taehyun who found you talking to a ghost and asked what kind of supernatural ties you have, which birthed the stupid little bet between you two about who would figure out the other's identity first. Taehyun who is infuriating. Taehyun who is kind.

Taehyun, who is a friend and can still help.

"Oh, hey Taehyun," you say, praying your voice stays steady. "Kai's not there?"

"He went to the convenience store and left his phone," Taehyun replies. "Did you need him? He'll be back in a few."

"No, I—just letting you all know that I'll be at his place in ten minutes," you say. "I'm at 117th, was just heading back from the library. Sorry—" And here your voice catches, like an idiot—"Sorry I'm so late, I just got caught up with an essay."

Taehyun remains silent for a second. Then—

"Y/N, are you okay?"

A sob almost bursts out of your mouth, catching you by surprise. You're so scared—your heart is racing faster with every street you pass that is still devoid of ghosts—you hadn't realized it until he asked that simple question, are you okay, but you're scared. So scared.

"No," you say lowly. "I think someone, or something, is following me." You swallow hard around the fear rising in your throat. "There—there aren't any ghosts."

"Ghosts?"

"I'll explain later," you say, panic creeping into your voice. "I don't know who or what is fucked up enough to have them all avoiding the area, but I think it's following me and I'm still like ten minutes away from the apartment and I'm freaking out—"

All the hairs on your neck stand up.

MOVE.

You don't even think before flinging yourself to the side just as something—someone—barrels into the space you just occupied.

You're back on your feet in a second but so is the figure that jumped out at you. Adrenaline rushes through your veins and you start sprinting, clutching your knife like a lifeline—and all the while Taehyun's yelling into the phone, asking what's going on, but between the running and the adrenaline you don't have enough breath to answer except with sharp gasps—

Something lands heavily on your back. You go tumbling down and your knee explodes in pain. Your phone skitters onto the street but you still have your knife, which you swing wildly until it connects with flesh and the mass pinning you down lets go, if only slightly, with a sharp yell. Kicking out your good leg, you manage to pull yourself free, ignoring the sick squelch of flesh as you drag the knife out with you.

You force yourself to stand. A streetlamp illuminates an unpleasantly familiar face contorted in pain as he also rises, blood flowing freely down one arm.

"Y/N," Sanya says, and you take a step backward even as your knee screams. "Y/N, I just wanted to talk to you—"

"What the fuck?" you snarl. Your hands are shaking so much you wonder how the knife hasn't fallen to the ground yet. "You want to talk, so you follow me home from the library and try to attack me—"

"You wouldn't talk to me otherwise!"

"Because you keep asking me about ghosts, ghost, fucking ghosts—where the fuck did you get the idea that I can talk to them? Where did you even get the idea that they were real?" You point your knife at him, praying that he doesn't see how badly you're shaking. "I've told you so many times to just leave me the fuck alone—"

"I saw you talking to one," he interrupts, lips curling in a snarl. "I saw you—don't deny it! You were talking to one after class, I heard you call it by name. Lilia." Sanya takes a deep breath. "Lilia Taylor. Committed suicide almost thirty years ago. She's dead, and you were talking to her. Don't fucking deny it!"

You can't say anything. Your voice isn't working. You can only stand there in horror, because there is a ghost named Lilia and you've definitely spoken to her before, even if you can't quite remember the specific occasion he's talking about.

You're fucked. So fucked. In the past ten years, you've only made the mistake of being caught talking to a ghost twice. You learned that lesson from childhood. Taehyun thankfully ended up being harmless. But Sanya—

He must take your silence for affirmation, because his voice turns desperate, more pleading than anything, and it breaks your heart. "Please, Y/N," he begs. "I just—I just want to talk to my mother. One more time. I didn't—didn't get to say goodbye before she died, it was too fast, I just want to talk to her one more time—"

You shake your head. "I can't do that," you say roughly. "That's—that's not how it works. I only see ghosts. I can speak to them but I can't command them to talk to me. I can't even speak to a specific one if I don't know where to find them first, and that's assuming they're here. That they haven't passed on." You swallow. "I'm sorry. I couldn't speak to your mother for you even if I tried."

For a long moment, Sanya remains silent, his head bowed. You hold your breath. He'll understand. He has to. He can't—can't force you to do something you can't do in the first place. Right?

Slowly, he lifts his head. You take a deep breath, ready to continue soothing, until you see the glimmer of menace in his eyes.

"You're lying," he snarls. "You're lying."

"I am not lying," you snap, anger and adrenaline powering your voice. "I can't do it. If there even is a way, which I doubt, I don't know it—"

"YOU'RE LYING!"

This time you don't manage to dodge. Your fucked up knee buckles and the full force of his weight knocks you straight to the ground. Your knife clatters on concrete. Your head smacks the sidewalk and pain explodes in your skull but Sanya doesn't even seem to register the blood running down your face as he jerks your head back up. "You're lying," he hisses, staring straight into your eyes. "You fucking liar. You know you can, you have to—"

"I can't," you snarl back through the pain. "I can't! And no matter how much you fuck me up, you can't make me do something I do not know how to do!"

"You can see ghosts!" His voice is rising, hysteria coating every word. "You can talk to them! You have to be able to do this, you have to—"

"I can't!" you scream. "I can't fucking do it! What else do you want me to say, Sanya, what the fuck else?"

"I want you to STOP LYING!"

For a moment, there's just the night air, the silence, your heavy breaths snarling through the air. You blink blood out of your eyes, silver flashing in the corner of your vision. Your knife. If you stretch just a little, maybe you can get to it.

You try to focus on Sanya, even though two of him are starting to swim in your vision. "You're crazy," you say quietly, stretching out your fingers. "You're crazy—crazy enough that even ghosts avoid you. You can't force me to do something that I just can't do. You can't bring your mother back." Almost there—you can feel the handle at your fingertips. "You don't even know if she's still here! She's probably already passed on!"

"Shut up!" he screams, and your head hits the sidewalk again with a sickening crunch that echoes in your ears. There goes the knife, you think vaguely. "Shut up, shut up—you're lying, you're fucking lying—"

He raises your head again, and you brace yourself for another hit. But just as you feel yourself going down again, all of Sanya's weight leaves you at once.

Body numb, vision blurring, you manage to lift yourself up just enough to see Sanya splayed out on the street, a familiar figure standing over him. Your hands aren't cooperating much so you can't wipe the blood out of your eyes, but from this angle it looks like...

Taehyun?

The figure turns just enough for lamplight to fall on its face and your breath catches in your throat. It's Taehyun, but it—it's not. Taehyun doesn't have gold eyes that glimmer in the moonlight. Taehyun doesn't have fangs that extend past his lips, shimmering white against the night. Taehyun doesn't move that fast, doesn't have nails that shred right through skin, doesn't have a voice that could produce that deep snarl from his chest as he stands over Sanya's prone body like a predator in the night.

Out of the muddled mess of your mind, one word emerges. Vampire.

Of all the times to figure it out, why now?

Your weak lungs heave out something like a laugh. Taehyun's head jerks towards you and then all in a second, you're being gathered up in strong, familiar arms. The fangs have disappeared but his eyes remain a glittering gold, mesmerizing, and your aching head just wants you to sink into them forever but Taehyun's talking and he keeps on talking and it's really hard to just let your eyes close and relax when his voice is so distracting—

"Y/N. Y/N!" He's shaking you now, and fuck that hurts. You must make some sound of protest because he stops, thankfully, but then those gold eyes are suddenly so close to yours and he's talking again. "Y/N, stay awake. You can't go to sleep. Stay awake, don't close your eyes—"

Thinking is so hard right now. So is keeping your eyes open, especially when the world keeps blinking in and out of sight. Why can't you just sleep? You're trying to keep them open, you really are, but it's so easy to just not, and when your eyes flutter shut yet again you hear what sounds like a panicked curse before suddenly you're being lifted up and then you're moving. The night air is cold and so is Taehyun but with the last vestiges of your energy you burrow into his chest, chasing a comfort you never thought you'd find in the absence of a heartbeat.

No heartbeat. That stirs something in the depths of your mind, and then you remember something that, to your muddled brain, is very, very important.

"Taehyun."

Your name comes out in a panicked gasp. "Y/N?"

You blink again with immense difficulty. Gold eyes, fangs, no heartbeat. "Vampire," you get out.

He snorts, though you don't miss the panicked edge to it. "That's what you're worried about?"

Worried? Why would you be worried? Taehyun would never hurt you. But that train of thought is too difficult to chase down, so instead you focus on what you were going to say in the first place. "...Did I win?" you mumble into his shirt.

"Stop talking," he hisses, something like a half-hysterical laugh rising in his throat. "Stop fucking talking, and don't close your eyes—"

Of course, that's when your eyelids decide to fall shut, and you hear no more.

. . . . .

Your dreams are filled with ghosts, pain, and mesmerizing gold eyes. You're woken up several times and each time is just as annoying as the last—lots of hushed voices telling you to keep your eyes open, things poking you in different places, and at some point someone is shoving something at your mouth and you think it might be someone's wrist? Which is stupid, because why would anyone be shoving their wrist at you, but then something tangy and metallic starts entering your mouth and even though the taste is terrible a voice that sounds a lot like Taehyun's is whispering for you to swallow, please, please, please so you do, even though it's fucking gross.

When you finally wake up for good, it's to a dim room, lit only by a small lamp in the corner. Your head feels like it's been filled with cotton, your eyes are crusty, and your mouth tastes like something died in it. You try to speak but all that comes out of your parched throat is a dry croak.

"Y/N?"

You turn your head to the sound of the voice and come to three conclusions.

One: Moving your head hurts a lot less than you thought it would.

Two: Someone is sitting by your bed.

Three: Taehyun is sitting by your bed, holding your hand.

"...Taehyun?"

Relief cracks across his face. "Oh, thank god, you're awake." He turns to a nearby nightstand that holds a pitcher and an empty glass. "Are you thirsty?"

You do your best to nod. The glass of water that Taehyun pours you tastes like heaven.

Several glasses later, you aren't so thirsty anymore, and your mind feels a little more focused. You look around the little room, then at Taehyun.

"...Your eyes aren't gold anymore."

"What? Oh." He blinks. "Yeah. That only happens when I'm...in my other form."

"As a vampire."

He nods, a little smile curving his lips. "Yeah. And before you ask again, yes, you did win our bet."

Fuck yeah. You beam up at him. "Sick." Then you frown. "Wait, have you not figured out what I am? I thought the ghosts gave it away."

"There were still a few options, even with that hint," he says, taking your hand again almost absentmindedly. You glance down but decide not to say anything. It feels nice, anyway. "Necromancer. Medium. Witch, maybe."

It would be funny to keep him in the dark, but that's also a little cruel. "I'm a medium," you admit. "I talk to ghosts. Can't really do much else, though."

"So you weren't just talking to yourself the day I caught you," he says with a little snicker. You snort, but he's not done. "Did that guy find out? That's why he was after you, wasn't it?"

The room suddenly feels cold. You shiver underneath your blanket, hand squeezing Taehyun's almost involuntarily. His skin is also cold, but the pressure of his palm against yours comforts you more than the thin warmth of the blanket.

"Yeah," you get out. "Yeah, he...he'd been bothering me for a while. Asking if I could see ghosts and whatever. I lied, obviously, and at some point I thought he got the message to leave me alone. But he saw me talking to one of them. I didn't know." You take a deep breath. "He thought I'd be able to help him talk to his mom. I told him I don't know how to summon specific ghosts. I don't even know if it's possible, at least for me. But, uh." You try to smile, but it fails. "He didn't really like that."

Something like a snarl sounds in the back of Taehyun's throat. "I could tell," he says, and there's no mirth in that statement.

A blurry memory comes to the forefront of your mind. Sanya lying in the street, arms and legs splayed at strange angles, Taehyun standing over him. "He's...is he dead?" you ask, mouth dry. You're not sure if you want to hear the answer.

"No." Taehyun spits out the word bitterly, like he almost wishes the opposite were true. "No, he's not. I didn't kill him." He looks at you almost hopefully. "But if you want me to, I can finish it."

You swallow. Relief and fear do a strange little dance in your chest. "No, I don't think I want him to be," you reply, and Taehyun nods, albeit a little disappointedly. "But I don't really want him coming after me again, either."

"Don't worry. Kai said he would take care of that, if you decided you wanted him alive." Taehyun gives you a half smile. "One of our friends is a witch. Memory alteration spells can go a long way."

Most of the fear dissipates, and you let out a sigh of relief. "That's...good." You stare at the blanket. "He just wanted to talk to his mother. Grief can drive even the sanest of people mad."

"...I know."

A little silence falls. "Where am I, by the way?" you finally ask. "Your apartment?"

"Yeah. It was closer." Taehyun shrugs. "Also, I hope you don't mind, but I called my witch friend over to take a look at you earlier. His name's Soobin."

Hm. You vaguely recognize that name from your intermittent wakings. Which brings back the memory of something else, a tangy and metallic liquid in your mouth. Instinctively you wrinkle your nose.

"Is something wrong?"

"Oh, I just remembered a dream I had." You shake your head. "I was drinking something really weird. It tasted bad."

Taehyun's face turns a little sheepish.

"...Not a dream, I guess," you get out. Right, in dreams you can't taste anything. How did you forget? "What was it?"

Taehyun raises his wrist, revealing two fading marks against his skin. "Vampire blood has healing properties," he says guiltily. "It was the only thing we could think of without sending you to the hospital. You had a major concussion and your knee was pretty busted, too."

You stare at his wrist, at the marks that seem to be fading before your eyes. "I drank blood. From your wrist."

"...Sorry?"

"No, no, don't be sorry." You pinch the bridge of your nose for a second. "I...appreciate it? It kept me alive. I'm just trying to process things." Then you realize something. "God, I haven't even thanked you for saving me." All at once you remember the fear, the terror, the pain, and then it hits you, really hits you, just how close to death you came. "Thank you, Taehyun," you say in a much smaller voice. "I...I really owe you my life."

Taehyun clasps your hand between both of his and looks at you, his dark eyes deep and serious. "You don't owe me anything, Y/N," he says quietly. "I came because I was worried. Because I didn't know what was happening, and I was scared for you. It was my choice to come," he says, voice brooking no argument. "I don't believe in exchanging lives. I'm just glad that you were okay, in the end."

That does it. Just like his simple question when you were walking home—Y/N, are you okay? His words release the floodgates and all the tears start falling, the full terror of the moment hitting you like a truck—but he's holding you, cradling you close, and you're curling into him again as you soak his shirt with tears, finding comfort in his voice, in his arms, in the absence of a heartbeat in his broad chest.

By the time you're cried out, you're exhausted again, but you don't really want to go to sleep just yet. So instead you stay curled up against Taehyun, his arms holding you close, and take in shaky breaths until you feel a little steadier. "Sorry for crying," you mumble, even though you make no effort to pull away. "Your shirt's going to be gross."

"I don't care about the shirt," Taehyun says sharply, though his voice softens when you look up, startled. "Sorry. I just meant that...I can replace the shirt, Y/N." He takes a breath, and you notice he looks a little nervous. "But I can't replace you."

His words strike a chord deep within your heart, bringing a sort of funny feeling to the front of your chest. "Damn right you can't," you try to joke, but it falls a little flat.

"I'm serious." And then he's pushing you away a little, but only so that you have the space to look him in the eyes. "I'm serious," he repeats, large eyes dark and somber. "You almost died, Y/N. And if you...if you did die..." He swallows. "You know why I agreed to that stupid bet?"

You blink. "...For fun?"

"No. Well, yes." He huffs a little. "Y/N, I wanted an excuse to talk to you more."

A little warmth curls in your chest, spreading slowly outwards to the rest of your body. You don't say anything, though.

"You're a fun person to be around, Y/N," Taehyun says, and he's smiling a little in a way that's more mesmerizing than his golden eyes. "I liked you. I wanted to be around you more, and talk to you more. I'll admit, I was definitely curious about what exactly you were, but I didn't care about that as much as I pretended to." He leans in a little, and you don't flinch away. "I like you a lot, Y/N. And before you have—I don't know, some other near death experience—I wanted to tell you that." The smile slips away. "If you died, I never would have told you. And I would have regretted not telling you for a very long time."

He's looking at you in a way that warms you, even though his hands are cold, even though there's no heartbeat in his chest. So you let the quiet warmth of his gaze spread through your body, let yourself lean into him a little more before you press your lips softly to his.

Taehyun kisses back firmly but gently, never pushing, never yielding, as steady as his arms holding you against him. You don't kiss for very long, but when you do break away, you're warm all over, and you can't stop smiling even with eyes still sticky from crying.

"I'll tell you that I absolutely cared about this bet as much as you thought I did," you say, and his laugh only makes you smile more. "But I can't lie, Taehyun, I liked you a lot too. I tried to dislike you on principle. You were so fucking annoying about it," you emphasize, eliciting another lovely laugh from his lips. "But I couldn't, because you were sweet, and kind, and even though you teased me all the time, you were still always there. Even when I almost died."

His eyes on yours, dark and sweet. Like the lamp glowing softly in the corner, gentle and quiet.

"You may not have a heartbeat, but mine can beat for both of us," you say quietly. "If you'll let it. If you'll let me."

Taehyun kisses your forehead, your nose, your lips. All feather soft, like butterflies lighting on your skin. "Is that answer enough?" he asks.

You smile back in reply and curl back into his chest. Taehyun's arms close around you again, his head coming to rest on top of yours, and there you sit, and breathe.

One heart beating for two, two breaths sounding as one.

Reblogs and comments are deeply appreciated! Hope you enjoyed this, and have a lovely day :)

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lunarw0rks · 1 year

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please tell me i’m not the only one who thinks soap would be horny at the WRONG times?

like let’s say you’re hosting your very first end of the year bbq and you invite your close friends, the task force, + los vaqueros. you’re excited because you just had moved into your first house as well.

all is good until good until soap starts getting needy, purposely brushing up against your backside whenever he passes by, mumbling the most sarcastic ‘oops my bad’. he even says something along the lines of ‘sending everyone back home so we could have some alone time’ and plays it off as a joke but you know he’s being serious 💀 like that man does NOT CARE, he’ll take you in the bathroom if he has to.

a/n: naur, you're onto something anon. I always picture Soap as a horny bastard; not much restraint in his not-so-little body. got a little carried away on this, lol. warning(s): nsfw, horny stuff, fem!reader

imagine you bought a house together and the nice idea of throwing a little housewarming party, for him, for you — inviting his co-workers and some friends of your own. he insisted a thousand times that you didn't have to invite them; but only because of all the embarrassing stories they were going to tell you about your boyfriend.

but, when all was said and done, it was a great gathering. you did it all yourself — the meals, the decor, the staging of your newly purchased outdoor furniture — everything. it was alluring to Soap, how frazzled and insistent on "perfection" you were. though, you heard about a thousand times, that they would eat anything you put in front of them.

when you two sat around the fire, gaz asked how you two planned on celebrating the new house once the festivities died down. an innocent question; but it sparked in your boyfriend's mind. "aye, we'll find a way to celebrate, that's for sure. jus' gotta make sure the timing's right," he played it off with a chuckle, but there was no mistaking how flustered it made you.

it was going perfectly, or as perfect as a party with these people could be. a lengthy dinner in the backyard, endless conversations, and a little too much indulgence in the booze for some of them. "great party, great house. should have you decorate the base sometime, eh? if it's half as nice, it'll help with morale." price commented as he talked to you and him.

Soap's arm remained around your shoulder, your waist, or anywhere throughout the night. you didn't think anything of it, frankly, you were too laser-focused — until his neediness grew. brushing against your backside, a caress on your thigh lingering, a small wink when the guests weren't focused on you.

some went off to the side to smoke, and others remained on the patio to continue their conversations. by now, it was time to get the mess cleaned up. plates, cups, wrappers, empty bottles, and the other trash that had accumulated.

"i'll help you with that, love. you've done enough tonight, haven't ye?" he approached after dismissing himself, grabbing the second stack of silverware and following you inside. Soap finally had his opportunity to seize what he desired, when he knew the party was much less alive, much less prying eyes on you two.

you stepped inside from the patio, him closing the sliding door behind you. dumping the plates into the sink, you turned on the faucet with the intention of beginning a long night of clean-up duty. his hand reached around you, turning off the faucet, "not what i meant by helpin' you, lass. c'mon," he motioned his head in the direction of the hall.

you took one more look out the window, seeing the preoccupied guests, most paying little mind to your guys' close proximity in your new kitchen. why the hell not? might as well cross the guest bathroom off your list of "places we've had sex in our new home" — right?

before the door even closes, he's hiked up the hem of your evening dress, shoving his hand down the waistband of your panties. Soap ends up fucking you senseless on the bathroom counter, gagging you with his fingers in case any of his co-workers came inside the house to grab another chilled drink. you were only a few feet from the kitchen, it was the definition of risky.

mid-thrust, there was a soft knock. price, goddamn price. "everything alright in there, sweetheart?"

even with his superior on the other side of a door, about a foot away, did Soap stop? no, of course not. he slowed down but never stopped. he removed his fingers from your mouth, biting his lip to mock you that look in your eyes, whilst they shot open in a frenzy. you cleared your throat to conceal a moan, using every ounce of strength to not feel Soap bottoming out over and over again. "uh, just a— just a little wine on my dress, John. no worries!"

as soon as price's steps retreated down the hall, Soap's ragged, growly breaths resumed. in a split second, his ruts went from mockingly slow, back to a relentless pounding.

before there was any chance of another interruption, he finished with a sneer on his face. "wine on the dress, eh? smart girl. i like that." he heaved against your lips, gently wiping any mess that smudged on your lips. you were livid, despite coming down from your own high. a palm smacked his chest repeatedly until he shut your heated whispers up with a hundred pecks across your jaw and mouth.

Soap walks outside first, blaming the lost time on him fishing through the moving boxes for a Tupperware you needed. whether it was believable or not, that was up for debate. the sweat lingering on his brow, the afterglow of sex on his face? unmistakable.

now, you've either have to splash water on your dress to imitate where you would've scrubbed a wine stain off. or... just, walk on out of there like you hadn't just been fucked stupid — with trembling legs, naturally.

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redroomreflections · 3 months

Text

The Ghost in The Window Chapter 1

Natasha Romanoff x Fem!Reader

Summary: As a former child star and one-half of one of Hollywood's most powerful couples, you’re no stranger to the dangers of the spotlight. Life has just begun to settle for you as you navigate motherhood, marriage, and your career. When a fan-turned-stalker gets a bit too close for comfort, everything is turned upside down

Note: Uploading the WIPs here too...

W/c: 8.4k

No one tells you how surreal it feels once you’re standing up there. A few moments ago you had been waiting patiently in your seat, eyes forward, a polite smile on your face as the nominees were read. Your palms are sweaty as you clutch your stylist, Loki’s, hand in yours. He gives you a comforting squeeze as you listen for your name. The giant camera is turned toward your face and suddenly you have to put on a show. It’s been like this every awards season. Only this time you’re the one on display. You give a curt nod, looking everywhere but the camera, as you think about what to do if you lose. It’s impossible to think of all the scenarios now that you’re here.

“And the winner goes to." Zendaya Coleman opens the envelope slowly. The smile on her face tells you she’s happy about whomever the winner is. You close your eyes and wait for the disappointment. Only it never comes. “Y/n, Y/l/n.” Your name slips from her lips as smooth as butter and you don’t know what to do. You’re amazed by the massive amount of cheers you receive as you stand to go and accept your reward. You kiss Loki’s cheek, and then your mother who is sitting next to you. You’re missing someone else though you know she’s there in spirit. You grip the hem of your dress to make the train easier to drag along with you. It’s a simple one-shoulder rust-brown satin gown that hugs your curves in all the right places. It was something you picked out months ago and sure enough, it’s done you right.

The moments leading up to your acceptance speech were a blur for everything that’s happening now. You’re standing here in front of your peers and coworkers. Words seem to slip from your mind as you hold the seven-pound award to your chest. Your eyes scan the crowd for what feels like forever before you gather your bearings and speak. You step a little closer to the microphone so everyone could hear you.

“Wow,” You take another deep breath. “To say I wasn’t expecting to win is an understatement. I think we all go through those moments in life where we know someone much more talented or charming or any of those things could very well be standing up here too. I’ve always practiced what I was going to say but none of it seems right.” You look around. “I want to thank the tv academy for acknowledging the hard work and dedication that I have put into this project, my fellow costars, and the rest of production. Day in and day out they work so hard to bring these stories alive. I want to thank my fellow nominees who brought their best time and time again. It is an honor to be in the same company as these people. I want to thank our director Brad Lee Scott. He was so honest and welcoming and encouraging to get me to this spot. I would like to thank my beautiful wife, Natasha, who couldn’t make it tonight but I know she’s on the other side of the world cheering me on right now. What can I say, my love? You’ve helped me through it all. Late-night script reading, early morning coffee runs, and even our second child's birth. There’s no one I would rather do any of this with.”

You can see the countdown of the clock showing your speech time is almost up. “I also want to thank my parents. Their immense dedication and support to my dreams never go unnoticed. Finally, I want to say thank you to my kids. I know my little girl, Rosie, is at home watching. It’s way past your bedtime but you're allowed to stay up and see Mommy win just this time.” There’s a polite chuckle from the crowd. You hold up the award. “Thank you all again. Goodnight.” You blow a kiss to the camera before turning away.

You follow Zendaya off the stage and through the wings where there are a thousand and one cameras all on you. Your makeup artist, Darcy Lewis, meets you halfway in order to give you a touch-up. She begins by fixing your lipstick in silence. There’s already enough hustle and bustle around you as you’re greeted and congratulated by several big-name tv stars. At one point, Ellen Pompeo asks to take a picture with you, and you almost faint.

The rest of the night goes by rather quickly and you’re off to your after Emmy’s interview. There’s not a lot you have to do for this part. You’re a bit fatigued, your chest is sore from lack of pumping, and you want nothing more than to go home and cuddle with your kids. Yet being here in this moment is also more than you could imagine. You’re stepping onto the minuscule yellow tape someone has attached to the floor. You raise your chin and pose, eyes forward, shoulders back as you grip the trophy in your hand. It’s not your official award. That one will be engraved and mailed to your house within the next few weeks. For now, you had this one to hold and love on.

“Y/n over here” and “Y/n this way” are all shouted out to you as each interview tries to get your attention first. It’s only when your publicist, Roxy, quiets them down do you attempt to answer a question. Being up here as the center of attention can be overwhelming. Especially when your attention is being pulled every which way.

Finally, one man, someone you recognize from Entertainment Tonight offers up a question.

“So, Y/n, what can you say about season two of Taste of the Wilde?” He asks.

You give him a nod of acknowledgment before you speak. “I think that I don’t have a single clue.” There’s a burst of shared laughter from everyone in the room. “I’m simply a vessel.” You shrug. “I genuinely don’t have a full answer for you. I think what we did this season is very special. What we showed and the journey that, Wilde, my character went through was amazing. It was tasteful and also genuine. It would be great if we had another season. I would be happy to come back and delve through a lot of things. I also think that this season could be great as a standalone. I have faith that the writer’s room is more than competent and talented enough to bring everything together if we get the opportunity.” You finish.

Your years of media training come in handy as you navigate the questions being thrown at you. Some are harder than others but you give something that you hope they are satisfied with. You’re almost to your last question when you hear a collective gasp. For a second, you think a bigger star is about to enter the room. You slowly whip your head to the right and find there’s no one. When you feel strong arms around your waist and a peck on your cheek you immediately know who it is.

Your entire body warms and your stomach fills with butterflies as you tilt your head to see your wife Natasha. She’s wearing a dark green, asymmetrical backless gown that has a dangerously high slit on the thigh. It’s borderline tacky but on Natasha, it never could be. You use your unoccupied hand up to stroke her cheek before giving her a gentle peck.

“Nat, what are you doing here?” You speak lowly so only she could hear. “I thought you were in London for another week?”

“I couldn’t miss the biggest night of my girl’s life,” She murmurs before pecking you again. It’s easy for you to feel lost in her presence. The noise around you dissipates as you show off your award to her. You’re pulled back to reality by the flashing lights and shouts around you as the photographers beg you to pose.

“Natasha, how do you feel about your wife’s big win?” Someone yells out and it catches her attention. Her eyes never leave yours as she answers.

“I am so proud of my wife,” Natasha grins. “I am always so incredibly enamored and in awe of her talent and the work that she does. I am her biggest supporter and I’m so glad that everyone else sees what I see every day.” Natasha looks away to flash an award-winning smile at the camera. She’s speaking so smoothly and you hope she understands you won’t be the only winner tonight.

You spend a few more minutes mingling with the interviewers before you’re ushered to your truck. Natasha helps you inside first before she climbs in behind you. Roxy holds the door open to make sure you’re both inside safely.

“You don’t need a ride?” You bend at the waist to address her. Her thumbs are working overtime as she types at rapid speed. There’s no doubt in your mind that she has your entire schedule planned out for the next month.

“No, I’ll find my way,” Roxy dismisses. “For now you two go home and kiss those beautiful babies for me. Celebrate! I will call you tomorrow afternoon with the details of the press tour. Enjoy.” She says before slamming the door shut. She taps the glass of the car to signal your driver, Johnny, it’s safe to move.

You’re silent for a few more seconds. You’re being pulled away from the events and out towards the still-busy Los Angeles streets. It’s a forty-minute drive from here to your home so you might as well get comfortable. You lean back against Natasha as she wraps her arms around you once again. She feels solid and warm and you lift up to look down at her physique.

“You’ve been working hard on this movie?” You comment. “I like it.”

“Hmm, I’m glad that you do.” She mutters before she kisses your cheek. “I’m so proud of you, baby. I can’t wait to get you home.” She whispers a little closer to your ear. “I’ve missed you.”

“I’ve missed you too, Natasha.” You take her hand in yours to run your thumb across her knuckles. “Rose and Grace have missed you too.” You offer. It’s been two months since Natasha’s been home. Almost a month since you’ve seen her in person. She’s just wrapping up her reprising role as an assassin in one of the world’s largest movie franchises. Which meant a lot of her scenes were shot overseas. It was no big deal to you. Not when money was no object for you. She would come home as often as she could and you’d fly to her with the girls in tow often. The frequent distance could put a strain on even the most solid of marriages. Sometimes yours too but you’re making it work.

“I can’t wait to kiss their little cheeks,” Natasha smiles tiredly. “I took the first flight I could out here. It wasn’t even first class.” She informs you and you laugh.

“You’re spoiled,” You tap her nose. “Oh, I can’t wait to get home.” You lie your head back against her shoulder. “I could soak for days. Remind me again why I opt to wear such dangerously high heels?”

“They make your ass look great,” Natasha says. You glance up at Johnny who doesn’t seem to care about what you’re discussing. It’s not like he hasn’t heard everything already. “It’s the truth.”

“I’m glad you still think so,” You tuck your face into her neck. It’s a moment of vulnerability tucked inside of your small talk. Natasha knows firsthand how insecure you’re feeling after giving birth just five months ago. Though you’ve been in the gym day in and day out there are still small differences that you notice like your thighs being a bit thicker, your breasts being at least a cup size bigger than they used to be, and your flat stomach isn't as flat as it used to be. You don’t want to seem vain or shallow but sometimes you struggle with the changes. It doesn’t help that the media and public points them out quite often. Natasha is always there to help you through.

“I do think so and if we have time I’m more than happy to show you tonight,” She gives you a lingering kiss on the cheek. Your heart beats in anticipation of just what this night might entail for you. It’s been a long few months and you’re more than ready to be intimate with your wife again. You’re just thinking of the ways she could rip this dress off you without actually destroying it when the black Escalade approaches the gate of your home.

Johnny uses the button attached to the ceiling of the car to signal for the power gate to open. It does so slowly to reveal the contemporary Spanish home with white paint and red awnings. It stands tall with five bedrooms and four bathrooms. Certainly a bit too big for your family of four but you have a feeling you’d be filling it with more children in the near future. Johnny rushes out of the car to help you both. Natasha exits first and then you.

“Thank you, Jonny, it was so nice seeing you,” You bid him goodnight. He doesn’t pull off until you’re both inside the house. You don’t even wait before you’re kicking off your shoes and following the sound of the television. In the living room is where you find your daughter, Rose, asleep on the couch surrounded by a pile of pillows. The tv plays some commercial in the background and you reach for the remote to turn it off. That’s when Rose’s nanny, Carla, enters the room.

“Congratulations Miss,” Carla greets you with a hug. “I knew you were a shoo-in for that award. There’s too much talent in one body for them not to recognize it.

“Thank you so much, Carla,” You both turn to Rose. “How was she tonight?”

“Oh she was fine,” Carla dismisses. She walks around the room to pick up forgotten toys. “She wanted to stay awake and wait up for you. I tried to tell her it would be pretty late but there’s no arguing with a four-year-old. I assumed you would be attending one of the after-parties.” She inquires.

“Well, I was, but…” You gesture to Natasha who’s now in a robe and slippers. Boy does she change fast.

“Oh, Misses Romanoff, you’re home,” Carla excitedly walks over to her to hug Natasha. “You’re going to make little Rose’s day when she wakes up. I thought you had another week in London?”

“That’s what I said,” You agree.

“Well, I have to go back in two days to wrap up my final scenes,” Natasha says. “The boss gave me time off to come and spend Y/n’s big night with her.”

“Oh, well, don’t let me ruin the fun.” Carla dumps the last toy into the toy box.

“I’ll carry Rose up to the bed,” Natasha offers. “You can take the next two days off. We got it here.” Natasha says. Carla gives a few more praises before she disappears to her bedroom on the first floor.

Natasha walks over to the couch, bending slightly so that she can scoop Rose into her arms. Rose doesn’t startle for a second. She rests her head against Natasha’s shoulder with soft breaths. You follow them through the house and up to the front staircase. You make sure the security system is on and the doors are locked before you make your way to the second floor. You walk into Rose’s bedroom to kiss her goodnight just as Natasha does. She’s practically deadweight when you tuck her into her bed. Natasha flicks on her favorite starry globe nightlight. You leave them to their devices as you walk over to the nursery to find your youngest. Grace is fussy and appears to be waking up from her deep slumber when you approach her crib. Her feet kick out against the mattress and she begins to push herself up against her favorite plushie. You don’t waste time scooping her up and walking over to the rocking chair in a corner of the room. Breastfeeding in a ball gown is a bit harder than usual. After a little trial and error, you’re able to free yourself from the confines of the straps so that you can feed Grace from one side first.

Grace doesn’t open her eyes, though she moves instinctually, rooting for your breasts before she finds the nipple to latch onto. You press your toes against the plush fur rug to rock the both of you. You hold your breath in relief as you feel the first initial letdown. Grace hungrily suckles, her tiny hand holding you in place, as she rests. You don’t even notice Natasha has come in until she’s snapping a few pictures for her own memory.

“To post or not to post?” She wonders aloud before showing you the candids. They’re pretty tasteful pictures. Nothing of importance would be shown. Grace’s face is hidden and so is your chest. There’s pure adoration and love on your face in both pictures. In fact, the picture is really only the outline of your body and the baby. Anyone could tell what you’re doing in it. You’re still in your gown and the soft glow of the nightlight provides the perfect glow against your skin. It looks like something out of an art gallery. Even the most talented photographer wouldn’t be able to catch such a moment you think. A sense of calm emits from it and you give Natasha the okay to post them. She does so with a few taps of her thumbs before she tucks the phone into the pocket of her robe. She reaches her hand out to rub her fingers across Grace’s cheeks.

“She’s getting chunky,” Natasha comments, and you hum. “I’m missing so much.” She says with a tinge of sadness.

“You can burp her when I’m done,” You suggest. “She’ll probably need a diaper change too.” You joke and Natasha catches it.

“I would love to,” Natasha says. She sits with you and watches in complete awe as you help Grace switch sides with a bit of protest from her. She whines and opens her mouth wide ready to cry.

“Ohh, shh, Mommy’s only making sure you’re full,” You whisper to her. Grace settles against you once again. Her screwed-up features give way to pure serenity as she falls asleep again. Before you know it you’re done and you’re handing her off to Natasha.

“I started a bath it should be ready for us,” Natasha calls after you. You walk down the hall towards your bedroom and can in fact hear the water running. Your mind is still reeling from everything that has gone on for the past twenty-four hours. You check your phone, not even caring to look through the hundreds of notifications before you go on Twitter. Under Roxy’s approval, you send a tweet to thank everyone.

Feels surreal. Thank you all for your continued support.

You end the tweet with a bunch of emojis before you close out the app.

“You know, you’re in here, you’re supposed to be inside of the bath,” Natasha steps into the bathroom. She doesn’t wait for you to tell her to help with your gown. She already knows. She takes her sweet time unzipping it. She delights in the sight of smooth skin revealed to her with every inch uncovered. Finally, she takes your hand and allows you to step out when it pools at your ankles. She gives a brow raised at the tiny black thong you’re wearing, prompting you to give a spin so that she can see it. “Damn,” She mutters to herself. You don’t try to cover up or shy away from her gaze. She makes you feel wanted in every way possible. Next, she throws off her own robe before climbing in first. You get in after her and lean against her front. The water is scalding hot and eases the pain in your aching muscles.

Natasha takes her time to pour you both a glass of wine. It’s then you notice all of the candles and the soft music playing.

“Oh, so you just knew you were going to get some tonight?” You sip from your glass.

“No,” Natasha denies. “I knew you would want to decompress. I was hoping that I would be able to fuck you tonight. Big difference.”

“Ahh,” You nod. Her calloused hands come around to grip your waist so that you’re pressed just a bit closer. You can feel her hardened nipples against your back. The water sloshes around you with every movement as she tucks her chin on your shoulder. “I’m so happy you came.” You say again.

“I’m so happy too,” Natasha presses a kiss against your shoulder. “I loved seeing you up there. I watched for a few seconds before. You speak incredibly well. You commanded the space. Did you feel anxious?”

“I did,” You sigh. Natasha’s hands haven’t left your body since you stepped into the bath. She touches you as if she’s trying to memorize every spot and if you didn’t know any better she is. “It’s getting better though. Being up there and realizing I deserve to be in the space just as much as everybody else works wonders for the ego.”

“Mhmm,” Natasha agrees. “You know what would work well for mine?” She asks just as her right-hand ghost over your breasts. She knows you’re way too sensitive there for her to touch since breastfeeding but just like the rest of your body she doesn’t miss a beat. Her left-hand parts your legs for you in a show of strength.

“What?” You play along though you know what she’s about to say.

“Making you cum,” She whispers into your ear. Her fingers dip into your wet heat with practiced precision. She stops over coarse hair, delighting in the fact that you haven’t shaved, and it’s just how she likes it. She finds your clit, applying minimal pressure, and even then your hips jump. You close your eyes and allow yourself to get lost in the feeling of Natasha as she starts with slow and light circles. “I’ve missed touching you. Feeling you. Smelling you.” Natasha nips gently at your exposed neck. Thank the heavens for whoever invented bobby pins and updos. “All I could think about on that plane was being inside of you and hearing you whine and moan for me.” As if on cue you do exactly as she says. Your voice is soft and airy as your hips follow her fingers for friction. “Shh, it’s okay, baby, I'll take care of you.”

Natasha doesn’t disappoint. She enters you in one quick movement, giving you no time to prepare, and you gasp loudly. Her thrusting starts off slow and deep. Her thumb flutters across your clit with every rock of your hips and you’re a goner. You don’t even have time to catch your breath before you’re coming with her name on your tongue. She leaves kisses along your neck and shoulder as you come down. Your head lolls to the side as you finally exhale.

“Good?” She asks and you nod.

“So good,” You turn to her to kiss her. You look over the tub to see how much water has spilled over the lip of the tub. “I get to have you all night?”

“For as long as you want,” Natasha promises.

You take it as a challenge.

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

It’s sometime later in the morning you awaken. You open your eyes to an empty bed and the sound of crying and noise from somewhere in the distance. The sheets are haphazardly thrown across the bed with you tangled in them. The duvet is on the floor and there’s no sign of Natasha. You look around to see she’s hung up your gown along with hers on one of the racks. You reach over to check the time on your phone. It’s nine am. You’re still feeling exhausted after several rounds of lovemaking. Maybe you can sneak in more sleep before the girls awaken. You’re just about to close your eyes when you hear the creak of the bedroom door.

Rose walks into the room first, dragging her sled behind her, with Grace and your two-year-old Shi Tzu, Mocha, seated next to her. You don’t utter a word as she drags both of them all the way to your side of the bed where she eventually stops. You sit up with wide eyes and an amused expression as you inspect all of them. Rose looks so proud of herself as she shows off her baby sister and the dog.

“Mornin’ Mommy,” Rose gives you a small wave. “I saw you on the tv last night. Happy Awards Day.”

“You did?” You smile. “That’s awesome and thank you.” You lean over to give her a kiss. “What are you doing?”

“Playing dress up, see?” Rose walks over to lift Gracie in her arms. She has a bit of a tough time as the five-month-old weighs practically a quarter of her own weight. Mocha doesn’t give her time to grab him either before he’s off to hide somewhere where she isn’t. Rose struggles to place her sister on the bed and you assist her before an accident happens. “I dressed her all by myself.”

“Whose clothes are these?” You ask. You inspect Grace who doesn’t seem a bit phased to be her sister’s doll. She has on a beanie, with a pink and yellow frilled top, along with pink polka-dotted pants that you’re sure are actually one of Rose’s dolls' outfits. “Why did you let your sister do this to you, Grace?” You ask and don’t get a response of course.

“No, Mommy, she likes it.” Rose climbs onto the bed. “She was real quiet too.” Though you think that’s a lie considering the amount of crying you just heard moments ago.

“Where’s your Mama?” You ask and as if on cue Natasha walks into the room with a platter of food.

“I’m here,” Natasha announces as she comes around to the other side of the bed. “I made breakfast.”

“I helped too,” Rose inserts herself into the conversation.

“Oh, yeah,” Natasha nods. “She’s really good at pouring juice. She didn't make a mess or anything.” You reach for a piece of bacon to share with Rose. “Grace is probably hungry too. I tried to give her a bottle of pumped milk but she wouldn't take it.”

“She likes Mommy’s boob better,” Rose seems to be the baby whisperer or something.

“Don’t we all?” Natasha quips and you nudge her with a warning look. You grab Grace and position her so that she can nurse while you eat your own breakfast. “So what’s on the agenda today?”

“What’s that?” Rose stuffs a grape into her mouth. Ever so often she’ll reach over and tap Grace’s hand to get her attention. This means in turn Grace will unlatch just to smile at her sister. This makes feeding time a bit longer than you’d like but you won’t complain.

“An agenda is like a list of things to do,” Natasha explains. “We could go to the park or maybe to the movies.”

“Nah,” Rose shakes her head. “We can go outside in the backyard. I can show you my flips, Mama.”

“She has been taking gymnastics very seriously,” You say.

“Sounds like a plan then,” Natasha bites into her waffle. A day at home with her three favorite girls was all she would need.

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

You’re on the patio of your backyard, lounging around on one of the chairs, as Natasha runs around the backyard with the girls. You’re in a perfect bliss bubble as you relax for the day. Rose’s fits of laughter and even Grace’s shrieks of happiness are like music to your ears as you listen to them play. You join in from time to time. Your favorite is when Rose invites you inside her tiny doll house that is really only for children. You both squeeze in and play pretend for as long as Rose likes. Eventually, your energy is a bit drained and so you come to sit down and check some messages. Mostly you’re talking to your parents about how last night ended minus the intimate details. Your mother ended up going to a party with Loki where she met Ava Duvernay and a couple of other celebrities. Your dad had opted to stay home last night.

You switch over to Twitter and look through the notifications. There’s a sea of them but one of them is a constant that you’re noticing. You click on the page, recognizing the username as one of the bigger followers you have, and you like a couple of their posts congratulating you. You scroll down the girl’s page some more. Her entire Twitter page is dedicated to you. You’re no stranger to fan pages so you don’t find it super weird. You click to open up a few of her pictures. You’ve met her a few times it appears. Her face is a bit muddled in your head with the number of people you’ve encountered in your career. Though she seems persistent in her endeavors of meeting you. You admire the dedication and so without much thought, you send her a message to her open DMS.

Hello, I saw your tweets. Thank you so much for your continued support. I hope you are doing well xx.

The message is kind and to the point. It’s not very personalized but still it comes from you and you think she’d appreciate that much more than a few likes on her page. What results is several messages back though you’re not able to respond to them. Natasha comes to sit next to you effectively stealing your attention away.

“That girl is full of energy,” Natasha takes a few deep breaths.

“She gets it from you,” You set your phone down under you. “You know, she has a new hiding spot upstairs. Her bedroom has some sort of hideaway attic thing. Carla found someone to clean it out and paint it. She’s going to put pillows and decorations in there for her.”

“Cool,” Natasha moves so that your feet rest in her lap. She begins to give you a massage all the while keeping her eyes on the girls. “ I will check it out later tonight.” Natasha doesn’t speak for a few long moments. “Your new movie. How long is filming for that?” Natasha asks.

“About three months. Training starts in a couple of weeks though so I’d bump it up to four.” You don’t want to think about work right now. “Why?”

“I was thinking maybe after you wrap we could take a little break,” Natasha toys with the idea. “Rose and Grace are so young. We’re spending all of this time working. A lot of it is on opposite sides of the world. I want them to know me. To know us together. Maybe a few months of vacation. How does that sound?”

“It sounds lovely,” You sit up to kiss her.

“You’re okay with that? I mean I know you took a break towards the end of your pregnancy,” Natasha begins to ramble. “ You just wrapped up on your show and the movie is beginning. I just want us together.”

“Natasha, it’s fine, truly,” You caress her cheek so that she can look into your eyes. “I want us together too. Do I get to pick the place?”

“If you insist,” She rolls her eyes. You grin. This would be fun.

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

Natasha spends another night with you and the girls before it’s time for her to go back. You see her off with a kiss and hug goodbye. Rose has minimal tears though she does cling to Natasha before the redhead can leave.

“Mama, don’t go,” Rose pouts as she raises her arms for Natasha to pick her up. “Stay here please?”

“I’m only gone for a few more days and then I will be back,” Natasha promises. “Then we can play and cuddle and do everything you want to do.”

“But, I want to do that now,” Rose’s bottom lip pokes out even more. Her adorable raspy voice adds to the cute factor. Your heart breaks for her as you listen to their conversation. You bounce Grace in your arms and she’s none the wiser about what’s going on around her. “You have to stay with me and Mommy. What if the bad guys come?”

“The bad guys? What bad guys?” Alarm bells go off in both of your heads.

“My dreams,” Rose elaborates. “You always make it better.”

“Well, how about this,” Natasha breathes a sigh of relief and so do you. Usually Rose has referred to the paparazzi as bad guys. Often they need to be reminded not to get too close when you’re with the kids. Their way of harassment can scare the little girl. Which is why you try to keep her out of the spotlight as much as you can. She didn’t ask to be famous. She carries Rose over to her luggage where she pulls out a nearly empty bottle of her favorite perfume. “If you spray this in your closet and under your bed no bad guy can get you. It sends them all away and you’ll be able to sleep just fine.”

Rose inspects the bottle. “This is perfume?” She asks and you hide your snort. She’s smart.

“It is but it’s special perfume. It’s mine and they know I mean business.”

“Oh, okay,” Rose nods as if that makes sense. “How many sleeps when you get back?”

“Five sleeps until I’m back, Princessa,” Natasha promises. “Will you be a good girl for Mommy and protect your sister?”

“I’m always a good girl,” Rose raises a brow as if Natasha insinuates she is otherwise.

“I don’t know about always but you’ve come pretty close,” You point out. “Say bye to Mama so she can go.”

“Bye, Mama.” Rose wraps her little arms around Natasha’s neck and squeezes. “Be safe.”

“Okay, I will be safe.” Natasha kisses her cheek before letting her down. She steps over to you to give Grace a final kiss. Then she gives you one too before she’s off. You watch from the driveway as Johnny helps with her bags and drives her away.

Now it was back to your lives without her for just a while longer.

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

In the next few days, you’re a pretty busy bee. Carla takes care of the girls while you’re on the whirlwind press tour after your Emmy win. A lot of people want you on their talk show as you’re a hot topic right now. Ultimately you decide to go on Kelly Clarkson’s show first. She’s a long-time acquaintance and you’ve known her forever.

You’re backstage getting your hair and makeup done as you scroll through Twitter again. Grace and Rose are playing on the floor while Carla keeps them occupied. The Twitter app is again filled with notifications and it’s a bit intimidating. It’s the first time you’ve checked it in days. The previous fan page you checked out has come across your timeline again as a suggested person to follow. You don’t search your name ever so it’s quite interesting to see her outside of your notifications. You look through her posts again with genuine curiosity.

There’s a picture of you and Natasha at the after-Emmys interview with the caption “I just know they have great sex.” which creeps you out only a little. It’s the tamer version of what you have seen some people say. While it’s inappropriate you wouldn’t expect anything less from a fan page. You wonder how old this girl is exactly, scrolling back up to her bio to see she’s just turned nineteen. She’s young. Harmless.

You find that her name is Carissa and she lives in Los Angeles too. She’s a journalism student at USC and she has her head on straight. You’re going through her page a little more, only looking up when Darcy asks you to, as you read through some of her tweets out loud.

“I found this girl,” You inform them. “She’s a fan of mine and she has almost fifteen thousand followers.”

“Wow?”

“I think it’s just from being a fan of mine,” You show them the page. “She seems to know a lot about us. I mean an insane amount. How did she even know Natasha was flying back to London?”

“Girl, those pages watch you like a hawk,” Roxy says from her spot over on the couch. “Their methods are insane and sometimes even I don’t know how they’re getting out information.”

“Let me see?” Darcy asks you to tilt the phone so that she can see better. “Oh, I’ve met that girl before at a party. She kept bragging about how she snuck in and was waiting for you to come. She was a bit disappointed when you didn't show. She’s come to a few of your events. I wouldn’t be surprised if she was out there right now.“

“That’s interesting,” You’re not sure of the correct word to describe it. Growing up as a child star you’ve had your fair share of people that have taken a bit more extreme interest in you. Your parents were always there to protect you and keep you safe. Especially when you grew up in the same era as Mary Kate and Ashley Olsen. Your fame was a bit tamer. They kept you in a normal public school, you had extracurriculars, and you just so happened to be on tv. There was no multimillion-dollar company or a countdown until your eighteenth birthday. That you know of.

Suddenly there’s a knock at the door and Roxy moves to answer it. Kelly Clarkson herself has come to say hi and introduce herself to you.

“Hey, how’s it going?” Kelly greets you as she comes to give you a hug. “It’s so nice to see you. Look at you all dolled up. You look beautiful.”

“Oh, thank you, so do you,” You kiss her cheek. “I’m so happy to be here.”

“I’m excited to do this interview,” Kelly laughs with you. “Who are these two? Are these your kids?”

“Yes, this is Rose,” You introduce them. “And my youngest Grace.”

“Oh, hi, Rose, a flower name, I love those,” Kelly kneels to say hi. Rose, the extrovert, shakes Kelly’s hand. “It must be fun coming with your Mama to work right?”

“Yeah,” Rose nods. “I can get makeup too?”

“We shall see,” You promise Rose.

“Well, I was just coming to check in on you,” Kelly smiles. “I like to make sure everything’s good before the show starts. How are you feeling?”

“I’m feeling great,” You talk with Kelly a little bit longer. She even plays with the girls for a while before it’s time to take your place.

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

You put on your show smile when Kelly introduces you to her audience. You walk out with measure steps and even give her a hug. As if you hadn’t seen her twenty minutes prior. She talks about your show with you and everything else going on in your life. The questions have been prescreened to Roxy so there’s nothing inappropriate about the entire thing.

“So, I must say, I was an avid watcher of Taste of the Wilde,” Kelly seems in awe of you. “Every week you made something magical and I’m sure like me the rest of the world was cheering you on. You have some acting chops girl. Please tell me how you do it?”

“Well, lots of practice,” You think over your answer. “ The material was tough at first and it’s vastly different from what I did growing up and also the tv shows I’ve done in the past. The transition was a little rough for me but with my wife’s help and my acting coach, I was able to hone in on some of the skills I haven’t used in a long time. I had to dig really deep to learn and relate to my character so that it doesn’t seem like just some random chick acting on the screen.”

“You captured that essence of this character perfectly,” Kelly compliments. “And you know I was amazed I’m going to keep saying it. I was amazed. I’ve watched you grow up. We all watched you grow up. From that adorable little girl on the tv and in movies to this sexy bombshell of a woman who can hold her own. You can act your ass off and not many child stars have that.”

“You know you’re right,” You look over to the audience. “When you’re young, you rely on the cute factor. Casting directors want you to look good and make sure you’re able to recite and remember your lines. You can ride that wave of cuteness until you’re about sixteen.” You weigh the options. “Then you can kind of fizzle and burn out. The roles are more serious. It takes a lot of you to grow and show the world and let them know to take you seriously. I struggled a lot with that but I’m here now and it’s working for me.”

“It’s working quite well,” Kelly congratulates you on your win. “Now, I want people to see. The show I first saw you in. It was a nice sitcom back in the 90s with Sheryl Lee Ralph and a bunch of other 90s starlets. You played the adorable baby sister, Candy, can you tell me about that? Do you have memories of that age?” A picture appears of you as a little kid and the audience awws.

“N-no, not exactly,” You answer. “I remember bits and pieces. I was around six on that show. I think. We’ll have to ask my parents but I was around first-grade age. I remember a lot was happening and I didn’t think of it as work. It was my normal everyday job.”

“That’s great.” Kelly continues. “You know a lot of child stars say the same thing. How it was normal for them. How it was so fun. Then like you mentioned they reach a certain age where everything gets serious and maybe there are times when it's not so fun. I remember Jodie Sweetin talking about being younger and someone had followed her into a bathroom and that was a scary moment for her. Have you ever had something like that happen?”

“Hmm,” You think. “I wouldn’t say to that degree. There was a time I was in the mall. I was with my older sister and my dad. Someone, a man, asked to take a picture with me. Well with us both because my sister, Jennie, was also on a different sitcom for much longer than I was. So I remember we sit next to this man to take the picture or whatever. All of a sudden, he grabs me and like, poses me in the way he wants the picture to go. He didn’t mean any harm I don’t think but my dad was pissed. He could tell I was uncomfortable and so he kind of pulled us away and he gave this guy an earful. I mean an earful. I still remember it to this day because the guy was so apologetic and I think for the first time that’s when I knew as a ‘celebrity’ or a ‘star’ people don’t really see you as human. They form these parasocial relationships and they don’t think any of how they make you feel with what they say and do. Which is really dangerous at times, especially at six and even now at my current age.”

“That must have been scary,” Kelly sympathizes. “So I met your daughter. She’s such a star. I swear she’s a mini you. I only say this to inquire. Has she asked to be an actor? Or in the business at all? Has she shown an interest?”

“My daughter, Rose, she’s four,” You supply to the rest of the crowd. “She is a little diva. She is smart and quick thinking. She would be the perfect child actor. This may sound creepy but I only mean that she’s already like in the space of professionalism and sass and personality that casting directors look for. With that being said, Natasha and I have no interest in putting her in anything until she’s a little older and can understand a bit more. She’s asked. Trust me she has asked but I think right now we don’t want her or our youngest in the spotlight at all.”

“That’s completely understandable,” Kelly says. Much of the interview goes like this until you’re on to the game segment. Kelly talks about how you recorded an album as a teen and you almost die of embarrassment. She even asks you to sing and you do pretty well.

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

Before you know it everything is over and you’re on your way out of the door. Rose, who has skipped her nap, has opted to be in your arms for the rest of this leg of the day. As always, there are fans waiting outside and you’re about to say no to them but you figure you can sign for a few of them.

“Rosie, do you want to let Mommy say hi to everyone?” Rose shakes her head no. “Okay, um, let’s try this.” You walk over to the crowd with your bodyguard, Draco, standing by. “Hi guys,” You wave to everyone, and Rose tucks her face into your neck at the loud noise. When they notice how tired she is they have the decency to quiet down. “I have to get her down for a nap so I want to do a couple real quick.” You sign with one hand all the while listening to each person as they talk to you about any and everything. It’s a bit hard to keep up but you’re doing your best.

You get down to one fan with dark hair and blue eyes. They seem pretty familiar and you’re about to question it when she speaks.

“Hi, y/n, hi Rose,” She greets and Rose is elated that there’s someone here speaking to her directly. The young girl talks as if she knows both of you as she asks you about your day.

“I’m fine, thank you,” You smile gently. “Have we met somewhere before?”

“I’m wildelover04” She beams when she realizes you know who she is. “We've dmed back and forth a couple of times. My name is Carissa.”

“Oh, right, Carissa, so lovely to meet you in person,” You hand Rose over to Draco, and this time she doesn’t protest. She simply closes her eyes and falls asleep as you pose for a few pictures with Carissa and the rest of the fans. They’re all mindful of Rose and not getting her in the pictures. “Okay, guys, I have to go but it was so lovely meeting all of you.” You wave despite their boos. They were having so much fun with you and a lot of fun with them.

“Bye! See you soon!” Carissa’s voice stands out to you as she shouts your name.

She seemed normal for the most part but her presence has definitely stuck in your head. You climb into the car and help Rose into her car seat. Grace is already inside of her seat and fast asleep as the car starts. Today was a good day.

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

Later that night, you’re in bed with Rose by your side as you speak with Natasha over facetime. The time difference is six hours and you know it’s late for Natasha. Even still she would never miss a time to speak to her daughter.

“Are you sleeping in bed with Mommy tonight?” Natasha questions. Rose nods excitedly as she flips her plushie over in her hands. “You’re all nice and snug. I wish I was there with you to kiss you three goodnight.”

“Me too,” You say.

“Mama, I met Kelly Starkson,” Rose mispronounces the woman’s name.

“You did?” Natasha chuckles.

“Kelly Clarkson,” You correct her. “She was so polite and used her manners.”

“Ohhh, I’m so proud of you Solnyshko,” Natasha praises. “Now, I’m going to go on to bed. I have an early call time but I just wanted to say goodnight to my girls and be safe.”

“We will and we love you,” You prompt Rose to say goodnight. “Say goodnight to Mama.”

“Night night, Mama, love you all the way to the moon,” Rose exaggerates with her hands.

“And back, i love you three, goodnight.” Natasha says before hanging up the phone.

You set it on your nightstand, opting on cuddling with Rose while she falls asleep. You get up when she’s dead asleep to go and grab a glass of water. You check the security cameras before walking into the kitchen for a glass of water. You drink half before you spot the many gifts that had been delivered to your door by Roxy. She’d brought them earlier from her office where she received all of your personal mail from other celebrities or coworkers you know. You sift through the mail and packages, making a mental list of who to thank before you come across one that has you questioning everything.

A package from Wildelover04. Fan mail is usually funneled and inspected before it ever comes across your eyes so you wonder how this one made it through. It’s a single rose along with a teddy bear. You find it quite cute and so you travel with it back upstairs to your bedroom where you take a few pictures with it to thank her. You make a public tweet and tag her in it. You also send a text to Roxy to question how it made it through.

Overall, you push Carissa to the back of your mind as you think about your family and the rest of your busy week.

She’s just a superfan and you’re just a star. Nothing out of the ordinary.

----> part 2

#natasha romanoff #black reader #natasha x reader #black widow x reader #black widow x female reader #natasha romanov #natasha x you #angst

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itaipava · 1 year

Text

— champagne problems.

ft: oscar piastri x reader

wc: 892

genre: angst

tw: none

oscar looked at his watch in the silence of the train, 10:47 pm, it said. he wasn’t sure how long he had been sitting there, but he knew it wasn’t where he belonged. it wasn’t the place he had planned to spend this day that should have been so important: he should be celebrating with the most special person in his life tonight. sighing and his eyes threatening to let out all the emotions he’s been holding back, he looks out the window, trying his best to ignore the sharp pangs he’s feeling in his chest as a new melancholy song starts playing in his headphones.

he didn’t know what he wanted at that moment, whether it was to be alone to understand everything that happened and finally let his heart finish breaking completely or surrounded by his closest friends to try to feel more alive and try to ignore this pain that only increased.

looking at the other passengers on the train, he sees some people looking at the window, a couple holding hands, another couple where the woman is lying with her head on her partner’s shoulder while he holds her hand, and some noisy teenagers on the other who apparently just left a party. each one with their life, their story, their thoughts and feelings… he would give anything to feel like them now.

he thought something was wrong when you showed up that night. his suspicions proved true when you dropped his hand in the middle of dancing to your favorite song, your song; that song the two of you would listen to when you were driving your car and sing at the top of your lungs, him laughing at you as he hummed the song and lightly tapped his fingers on your thigh, that song he played on your first date, that song that seems to have was written to tell your love, that song.

when you walked out the door, you left a heartbroken oscar behind; eyes fixed on the door you left through, shaking hands seeking some support before his legs gave out. in that moment you completely changed your lives, where everything was sunshine and soft smiles, gentle caresses being exchanged at sunset, became an acid rain that burns your hearts, a wound that will never be cured.

he was going to ask you to spend the rest of your life with him that night; he should be surrounded by all his friends and family, but instead he is completely alone, traveling to an unknown destination. oscar opens his wallet and looks at a photo of the two of you that you took on your first date; he runs his fingers lightly over the photo, as if he’s caressing your happy face, and he feels a pang of pain when he thinks about how happy you two were back then. suddenly, the train conductor’s voice echoes, signaling that they are approaching the next station, and oscar is brought back to reality with a heavy sigh.

he feels so stupid thinking about how differently he planned that night. his entire family saw his face fall when you let go of his hand and your smile disappeared, giving way to a look of doubt and melancholy. but he didn’t care about that part now. his heart hurts too much to worry about the humiliation of it all.

he didn’t want to believe everyone when they warned him about you; he loved you too much to let other people’s opinions get in the way of his happy relationship with you, well he thought he had been happy anyway. maybe he should have listened, maybe it would have spared him so much pain and humiliation, he thinks as the train slows to a stop.

he was so nervous writing his speech that night that it had to be perfect. after all, you would remember that moment for the rest of your lives. turns out he was right, but the night will be remembered for very different reasons than he expected. the worst of it was that you couldn’t give him a single reason for your decision, and he couldn’t give you a word in response.

but you contacted oscar soon after that night, asking to see him again. coincidentally, the place you chose was the same coffee shop where you shared your first date. taking a deep breath, he steps through the door, looking around the crowded room for your familiar face. as soon as he sees you, his heart races and he feels like all the air has been stolen from his lungs. as he approaches you, you realize how much his appearance has changed in just a few weeks; his eyes are sunken and lifeless, and his sweet smile can’t be found on his beautiful face. you explain to him why you decided to end things and that you simply weren’t ready for that level of relationship, but you still love him and will always remember the incredible moments you had together. and that the person who marries him will be the luckiest in the world. so you leave him for the last time with a kiss on the cheek - which he still feels a slight tingle when he remembers it every night - and with a champagne problem.

#formula 1 x reader #f1 fanfic #f1 x reader #oscar piastri fanfic #oscar piastri imagine #oscar piastri x reader #oscar piastri x you #oscar piastri angst #oscar piastri fic #81

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nameuserlee · 2 months

Text

“The heartless are the most faithful.”

Another part of Sylus’ lines compilation, all from interacting with him at the café. He is the gift that keeps on giving. Part 4 (links back to part 3, and so forth.)

“People who don't overthink things tend to sleep well. I'll think about you more when I can't sleep.” (I might be missing a few words here, I only got the first half of the line.)

“Having more plants in the bedroom isn't always good. You don’t need to keep bringing some back for me. They don’t produce oxygen when I'm awake.”

“You got me. I do have something in my hand that will pique your interest, sweetie. Have you decided what you’ll trade for it?”

“Is this a ticklish spot? I’m checking so you don’t accuse me of sneaking up on you later.”

“I found your weak spot. Heh, I won’t go easy on you now.” (Choose “Don’t do it!") “Good. I’ll take my time finding all your sensitive spots when I make my move.” (Choose "Nope.")

“How do we compare neck lengths? With a ruler?”(I’m sorry but LMAO.)

“You want to leave your scent here [on my neck]? You’ll have to work for it.”

“Are you planning to tie a red ribbon around my neck as if I’m your present?”

“(Y/N), keep it up. I like feeling your breath on my skin.”

“Your lips almost brushed against mine. It was hot.”

“I often place my hand here [on my heart] as well. It makes me feel alive.”

“(Y/N), does rummaging through my belongings provide a joyful experience? Your tail’s standing up straight, kitten. We should get a mirror so you can see for yourself.”

“At the fashion show, I saw a dress with the night sky stitched over a river. I ordered one for you. It'll be sent once the measurements are correct.”

“The scenery on page 37 of the travel magazine you were looking at a few days ago is nice. When we’re free, let’s clear our minds. Should we make that place our travel destination?”

“Do you want a distraction? Night fishing might work. If you spend one whole night fishing, you might get things like drift bottles, tattered hats, or plastic dinosaurs. They’re just jokes that fate throws at you.”

“When you feel like night fishing next time, head straight for that shop by the sea. Should I have someone get the yacht ready? We can set sail tonight.”

“Why am I inviting you to go fishing? No reason in particular. If I must give one… I’ve never a kitten catch a fish before. I’m very curious.”

“You already have Luke and Kieran acting like they’re your henchmen?”

“Anyone who has crossed me isn't active for long. Do you think you’ll be any different?”

“Those people's tracking skills are laughably bad. I lost them by just taking a random turn.”

“Do you see those 'little sparrows' keeping watch outside the window? Let’s make a bet. Guess how many will remain after a gunshot.”

He's a menace, what can I say. A cheeky, thoughtul, playful, and secretly sweet menace. I'm still cackling about that ruler line, btw. Let me go get one actually, hold still-

I think this'll be the last part for a while, I'm trying to raise his affinity level now. I've already exhausted basically all of the interesting lines I came across. Hope these were fun for you as much as they were for me :)

edit: he then proceeded to spew like five more new lines at me what a TREAT. might be able to squeeze one more compilation after all.

#love and deepspace #sylus #love and deepspace sylus #lnds sylus #lads sylus #i know for a FACT im still missing some lines #but i WILL get them all #gotta catch em all and all that #wait wrong game #nameuserlee

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abbysimsfun · 12 days

Text

Sims In Bloom: Generation 2 Pt. 40 (Spending the Night)

cw: mid-level spice? 🌶️🌶️ (I'd call it low but I don't know people's thresholds. If there's an official simblr threshold for this kind of cw I don't know it, sorry! No actual nudity.)

Conrad's apartment in the Arts Quarter wasn't far from the festival grounds, and when they arrived, Gord greeted the flirty pair at the door with a friendly tail wag.

They took him downstairs and let him run around, ensuring he did his business before returning to the outdated suite Conrad called home. Gord raced to his spot on the small sofa in the open kitchen and living space and Conrad flashed a nervous smile.

He set his keys on a shelf laden with knick-knacks someone might have had in the last century. It looked a bit like a dingy motel room, like the ones Heather and her family stayed in on the way to their vacations in Granite Falls.

"I know the place isn't much," he said. "When he retired, my dad got it furnished from some old lady who used to frequent flea markets every Sunday. Rent's cheap, location's great, but I wasn't a very good son when he was alive. I was back and forth from college, still dealing with my mom's death, hanging out with the wrong people."

"Conrad, I'm sorry. I didn't know both your parents were gone."

He shrugged, masking grief he'd buried well all these years. "It's not easy, but I was looking for any way I could to feel closer to him, so I took over the lease here after he died. But he didn't change anything, and I'm usually too busy with work to spend much time here, as it is. Gord likes the sofa. I do have an old Unix I play around with for fun, but I've never really had to think about impressing company with the place. Until now."

"I don't care what it looks like," Heather said. "I came up to spend time with you tonight, not your apartment."

Still buzzing from the effects of the Sakura tea, she leaned in to kiss him. Her lips travelled softly down his neck. He grinned from her touch, but pulled back. "Wait, wait. This is fast. Just let me catch my breath a minute."

"Sorry." She buried her swooning head in her hands. "I'm usually the one slowing things down. It's just...the tea, and...and you."

His breathing grew heavier. "I want you," he said. "But I also like you. I haven't stopped thinking about you since the day I knocked on your door. I don't want you to think I brought you back here just to do this."

"I don't think that. I like you, too. So much it scares me a little."

"I scare you?"

"No, I'm afraid of myself. I'm the one who makes rash decisions and gets tangled up with the Landgraabs - who despise me."

"The Landgraabs have no taste," he laughed. "Which is all the better for me."

He leaned in for another kiss, dragging her to the sofa while Gord made himself scarce.

A hunger took them over, perhaps drenched in too much Sakura tea, but they gave in to the passion bleeding through their skin. Twice.

They slept soundly for a few hours until sunlight poured over the Myshuno Hills, breaking through Conrad's small bedroom window. As they stirred, he pulled back the covers to admire her in the daylight. She blushed, pulling him in for a kiss before she stood to get dressed.

"I want to see you again soon," he said. "I'll bring Gord to the coast later this week, hang out with you and Ash."

She smiled. "I'd love that."

Before she made it down the elevator, her phone vibrated from an incoming text. Would it be too soon to call you my girlfriend? She grinned.

Not too soon. I like the way that sounds. She took screenshots and sent the texts to Holly, and her sister sent back enthusiastic support with a half dozen heart emojis.

Heather felt like a lovestruck teenager again. But this time the boy on the other end of the phone didn't make her question anything about their connection.

Yet when she picked up her son from Malcolm’s penthouse, she didn’t mention Conrad. They were trying to make peace, consciously, for the sake of their son, but she still didn't trust him. He and Conrad had a history, and Heather didn't want his opinion. Not yet.

For now, at least, she was happy to have something in her life that Malcolm and the Landgraabs didn't know anything about. ->

<- Previous Chapter | Gen 2 Start | Gen 1 Summary | Gen 1 Start

NOTE: Me, tossing Conrad into the cheapest apartment in the city so he'd have more money when he eventually (hopefully) moves in, without considering the aesthetics of this eventual moment? Typical.

WCIF Poses Used: 2 poses from The Kiss by Simmerberlin (as you can tell I used the wrong-sized sofa but I'm not too bothered, I still like how the pose looks even in Conrad's tragic apartment); Confiding in You by StarrySimsie

#sims 4 #sims 4 gameplay #sims 4 screenshots #sims 4 legacy #sims in bloom #ts4 #ts4 gameplay #ts4 legacy #ts4 screenshots #sims 4 story #ts4 story #legacy challenge #sims legacy #ts4 legacy challenge #gen 2 #san myshuno

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azandsstuff · 5 months

Text

Grim, my baby~

My other work [ - ]

People say sometimes cats will bring happiness to their owner. If you want to earn one respect and love, you should learn how to do it first rather than wait for it to happen. So we should always respect our pets if we want them to love us.

That includes even if the cat is actually a monster who has no respect for anyone. Grim is your pet the moment you decide to let him stay in a ramshackle dorm with you. Even if he said it was the other way.

You never once like any animal that has thick fur since all the fur does is giving you more things to clean. But was it really the only reason why you hate such things as cats?

No. It was not. But it's not like anyone especially someone like Grim can understand you. Right?

One day, on a rainy night. You find yourself missing the smell of your old home. Where, when at the end of the day in that place has your family and friends always miss and care for you even for a moment. Your real family, friends and cat that wait for you to come back to their arm. Especially your cat.

And yet right now, you are here. Stuck in a whole new different world, with no one to call home. At least that's what you think. The monster next to you already saw how much you were crying just by missing your home. At first he finds it annoying to just hear your voice sobbing nonstop. But after a while he finally gave up and went to you.

Without both of you realise, you both are already hugging each other in one arm. He doesn't know why but somehow in this situation making him want to take care of you even more and is even more protective of you.

Maybe tonight both of you realise, that one misses home while other cravings for this feeling of home.

Every single moment you guys spend with each other the more one becomes cared for another. Every single time when you guys are not with each other making one becomes even more crazy just to find another. This feeling is what becomes the word home for both of you. Both you become each other home before realising it.

When Grim overblot, you know it was bound to come but you never expect that you will be by his said being protected by him who overblots rather than helping others to defeat him. But for once you don't do anything about it. You let yourself be protected by him maybe even helping him by defeating another for him. Cause you don't want to lose this feeling of home just yet and yet you still can't help but know at one point you have to defeat him if you want to keep him alive.

After a long hours of battle they finally defeat him but at what cost? Cause right now, the great Grim you love doesn't have any breath. Your baby is not breathing and doesn't even move for inches. And yet you look in front of you, the portal is finally open. The portal to bring you home. But what the point if the person you want to bring back home is already not breathing.

Others try to comfort you and say that this is your moment to go home. But you can't bring yourself to move an inch when you hold his tiny body closer to you. You feel regret for this very moment. Why did this have to happen? Why can't both of you exist next to each other for a while longer in this world without regret for one another?

#disney twst #twisted wonderland #twst fanfic #twst imagines #twst mc #twst wonderland #twisted wonderland grim #twst grim #twst yuu #disney twisted wonderland #twisted wonderland mc #grim twst #grim imagines #cat #twst angst

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breakfastteatime · 3 months

Text

Today's Fallen Order request is 'Dig' for @pennflinn

Dawn arrives cold and dull. Cere steps into the galley and finds Greez and Merrin staring at the caf pot bubbling away. Cal and BD are noticeably absent. Swallowing a sigh and adding her caf mug to the line, Cere asks the obvious question. “Still digging?”

“Still digging,” Greez says.

“The rain did not stop him,” Merrin says.

“Rain? The kid lived on Bracca for five years. Rain would never stop him,” Greez says. “Nah, it’s nightfall that didn’t stop him.”

Cere wills the caf maker to speed up. She grabs Cal’s mug and puts it next to hers. “I’ll talk to him.”

“You tried last night,” Merrin says. “You did not succeed.”

Greez can’t hold in his laughter, and it comes out in a short, sharp bark. He’s worried. Cere knows all the signs.

And Merrin isn’t finished either. “They never came back last night.”

“How can you tell?” Cere asks.

“Cal’s bed was not covered in mud and water as expected, and BD hasn’t recharged.”

“Thank you, Detective Merrin,” Greez says, pouring caf for all. “I was up a few hours ago, found him on the lakeside. Got some food and a hot drink into him. Tried to talk him into stopping, that he doesn’t stand a chance of digging up anything. He very politely said no. BD shrugged because he’s already given up trying to stop him.”

Cere suspected as much yesterday when they arrived in the crumbling town with a tragic story. A terrible storm had washed most of the town away, leaving just a handful of buildings and survivors behind. After a speaking with the townsfolk, Cal found a single echo, and since then he’s single-handedly digging his way into a sunken village. He hasn’t told them what he saw in the echo, but whatever it is, it’s driven him nonstop. The Force reveals nothing, Cal isn’t in any danger, which is why Cere hasn’t pushed too hard, but the idea that he’s been at the bottom of a lake for an entire night is a real worry.

Cere tugs on a coat, throws the hood over her hair and grabs caf for herself and Cal. “Get some towels and a few blankets ready,” she calls over her shoulder on her way to the ramp. “I’ll bring him back as soon as I can.”

“See you tonight then,” Greez mutters.

“I’ll take that bet,” Merrin says.

Outside, the surviving half of the town stirs in the dull morning light. Ahead, floodwater laps at what was once a road. Umbrella over her head, drinking caf and holding another, Cere waits. It’s not long before Cal emerges from the lake, waterlogged and weary. BD is on his back. Cal has something clutched in one pale hand. The Force gathers around him, calm and quiet because he has no energy left.

Cere steps up to him and holds out the caf. Cal takes it with a water-wrinkled hand. “Thanks.”

“You’re welcome.”

She sips her caf, waiting him out. While she does, she looks at the item in his hand. It’s a large, silt-covered crystal. Not kyber, and yet it simmers with an energy. She swears she can hear it sing.

“It’s full of memories,” Cal says, voice hoarse with weariness. “Almost as though the town itself was alive, watching over its people.” He hands it over to Cere. She catches sight of his torn skin and muddy, ragged nails. He really had spent the whole night digging underwater. No wonder he looks so weary. She reaches out to steady him when he weaves on his feet. “Can you give it back to the mayor? I think it’ll be better coming from you.” He waves a hand at her, and Cere figures he means ‘someone who isn’t soaked through, shivering, about ready to pass out and very, very muddy.’

“Of course.” Taking it, Cere looks at him, nudging at his shields. He pulls them closer like the towels and blankets he so desperately needs to be draped in. “You’re exhausted.”

He smiles faintly. “Yeah. Hard digging at the bottom of a lake. Glad my rebreather held out that long.”

She wants to know what drove him to push so hard where it was, to her mind, so unnecessary. Even with the crystal’s hum brushing against her mind, there’s more to this than she understands. “Go on,” she says, nudging gently through the Force. “Take a shower, put something warm and dry on, and get some sleep.”

He drinks the caf in three rapid gulps, returns Cere’s gentle Force nudge with one of his own, and retreats aboard the ship with BD in his wake. Greez and Merrin’s voices waft toward Cere. She waits until silence falls once more before finishing her caf, leaving her mug on the ramp, and heading into the town. She catches the mayor on her way into the village hall. She looks at Cere, then catches sight of the crystal in her hand.

“He found it?” The mayor takes it when Cere is close enough to hand it over. Her eyes swim, her voice trembling. “I never thought it possible.”

“Please, forgive my ignorance,” Cere says. “What is its significance?”

“We called it the Memory Stone. For centuries it watched over our village, a guardian of sorts.” The mayor gives a self-deprecating smile. “I know, it’s almost childish. Legend says it was given to us by the ancient Jedi, a symbol of light against the encroaching darkness. They say the Sith took particular interest in this world during those ancient wars. The Jedi reminded us that there is always hope. We lost that hope last year when the floods came.” She holds the crystal close to her chest. “And now, the hope is restored.”

A light in the dark, a reminder of hope. A reminder of what the Jedi had once been – to this world and the galaxy as a whole. Cere smiles. “Cal will be glad to know he helped.”

“Give him our best. It must have been hard work rescuing this from the old town hall.”

Cere returns to the Mantis, grabbing her abandoned mug off the ramp, pouring the rainwater out before she boars the ship. Still in the galley, Greez is now baking while Merrin licks a spoon coated in sugar-sparkled dough.

“Cal’s asleep and BD’s charging,” Greez announces, rolling the dough flat, a selection of cookie cutters beside him. “Here’s hoping they spend the entire day that way.”

Several hours later, Cal reappears, sleep-stained and wrapped in his blankets, BD riding in his usual spot. Greez hands over cookies and tea. BD hops down to scan the rest of Greez’s baked goods. Merrin points Cal in the direction of the couch. Cere meets him there, giving him a nudge. He reciprocates by letting his head drop onto her shoulder.

And that’s all they need to say.

#fic requests 2024 #star wars jedi: fallen order #jfo minific #jfo headcanon #cal kestis #cere junda #bd 1 #greez dritus #merrin

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latay7 · 6 months

Note

hi do you have any headcanons for abel and abyss?

Why hello helllooooo ><

Thay you so much for your request and i hope i fullflled your wish how you wanted

✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧

General headcannons for Abyss and Abel ☆

ੈ✩‧₊˚genre : i think fluff with a few mentions of their background stories

ੈ✩‧₊˚Note : idk why is it taking me so long to do the requests 🥲

(Btw Devider by the amazing : @saradika )

Abyss razor

For starters , we know how is our poor boy when comes to girls💀💔like , i love this man but....he is ...miserable.

So you can defently imagine the one sided tension between you too , but you were patient and gentle with him , it wasn't easier for him eaither.

At first , it took a while , but then he slowly warmed up to you because he saw how much of you were wiling to accept him for who he was. Which was something he questioned for a while.(my man will throw himself out the window if a female touched him )

I mean , not many people saw him as something other than a curse because of his eye , and being a part of the Magia Lupus , people feared him , stayed away from him.

But he was met with your kindness that no one has ever given him. He found himself thinking , Overthinking , why , why were you like this , to him ?? He was a monster , a curse...

But you saw beyond that , you saw the poor soul inside him that had to endure all that suffering , the little child that never got to feel love before , locked up in a dark room to cry himself to sleep , regretting being born , everyday.

If he was to describe it , it was how your hand slowly inches towards his so you don't jumpscare him , how you go easy with his overwhelmed self , your sickening sweet words thay he heard not with his ears , but his heart , the heart that was in you hands , and to sum it up. (i talk a lot...i know)

He loves words of affirmation and quality time , because it makes him feel the dedication and love you have for him , it makes him feel alive. And i think that he slowly leans towards physical touch since it was smth that we can say he NEVER had any of it in his life.

In return , he gives you acts of service and quality time as well (idk why but i think he's not that great with forming sentences , especially when girls) , he tries his best so you stay with him so he can live in your eternal love and warmth.

Abel and the Magia lupus know about you , athough he tries to keep you away from the latter , he sometimes tend to tell him about you when Abel notices his mood or behaviour being better than the previous days , and tbh , i feel like Abel would be a but delighted to see that change in Abyss (this is a wild take that i have no idea what basis is it taking.....headcanon w/o the head)

"Be careful of my heart won't you , see , you're taking it home with uou tonight , please , don't break it"

Abel Walker

You can fix him (wtf am i smoking)

Jokes aside , Abel , before his encounter with with Mash and you , had a very....specific....percpective of the world , but after you heard his story , you too were willing go change his looks towards the world and the people.

Approaching him was VERY difficult , let alone having a conversation with him , but you were consistant until Mash did what he did and Abel...opened up.

When you two got to talk , you tried to tell him more about what you think and see in this life but he seemed to dissmiss you , he didn't deny your ideas but he ignored you the first times.

He did that because you were kind and lovely , just like his mother , so he was intrigued , which led to unexpected outcome.

He starts showing up to you , out of te blue, for no reason 💀just to do whatever , you're studying at the library? He's there studying too, which is wierd because he as well denies the idea you're getting about him wanting go be friends.

But you're like "yeah sure buddy , whatever helps you sleep at night". He's curious , why do you think the way you think , he of course remembers his mother like that too , but he wanted to know more.

You show him , bit by bit , everything beautiful in life , and how forgivness is more powerful than revenge , and how helping others will benefit you more than focuisng on only yourself.

He didn't realise it and fell in love with you , and here , a new story began.

He's not that great with physical touch but he will always be there when you need him , freeing his schedule to be with you.

You're well acquainted with the Magia Lupus as well , (which he threatened : if anything happens to her on your watch , you're paying the price) so they to be as welcoming as ever with you.

He tells you about his mother and watchsd how you smile when he describes her and her kindness to you , and how you sympathise with him about her death.

You do everything you can to find the kind hearted soul in him , and despite him denying it , you're not gonna give up.

"It's you , despite everything , it's still you"

That was crazy , ahhhhhhhh it took me soo long im sorrryyy

And i hope i did well because this was quite the risk that i took

Anyway , i noticed that i curse a lot so im sorry if that bothers anyone-

And hope u like my next works! I'll try to be quick

#mashle x reader #mashle: magic and muscles #mashle #mashle x you #abyss razor #abyss razor x reader #abyss razor x you #abel walker #abel walker x reader #abel mashle #abyss mashle #abel x reader

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httplilyyy · 2 years

Text

𝐈𝐃𝐈𝐎𝐓𝐒 𝐈𝐍 𝐋𝐎𝐕𝐄 || 𝐋𝐄𝐀𝐇 𝐖𝐈𝐋𝐋𝐈𝐀𝐌𝐒𝐎𝐍

pairing: leah williamson x reader

request: ‘hope you’re doing well! i just want to say that i absolutely love your fics and when i saw that your requests were open again i almost screamed bc i have been holding onto this idea just for you. i actually saw this idea on my college love letters instagram page that said “if we're both single by a certain age we will marry each other" is always a fun story concept but it could be even better if the pact is made between rivals (r x leah) as a drunken dare and they go on to sabotage each other's relationships because they've been secretly in love all along.’

summary: you hated each other, right? so why the hell do you want to kiss her?

warnings: swearing (that’s pretty much it)

word count: 3.8k

a/n: i’m alive mfs, i kinda changed the request a little but i hope that’s alright. let’s also ignore the fact that this is my first post of 2023 and it’s march also a huge thank you for 850 followers :)

woso masterlist

Your fingers tapped absentmindedly on the glass in your hand. The smell of cheap booze and sweat lingered in the air. Watching as drunken bodies swarmed the dance floor, you leaned your back against the bar.

You don't know how many drinks you’ve had, you didn’t know what was going on, who you were with or where you were. But what you did know was how much you hated her.

You swirled the straw in your glass, watching on as, out of all the clubs in London, she happened to be in the same one as you.

No matter how drunk or sober you were, you always found something in you to dislike every little thing about her.

Whilst some people would call you petty and childish, they didn't know how the feeling was reciprocated.

From the moment you joined Arsenal one thing was made clear. Leah Williamson did not like you. Whatever you did, good or bad, Leah always found something to make her dislike for you more prominent.

At first it was little comments here and there, out of shot from your teammates but it soon escalated into making it her personal mission and life goal to hate you in front of anyone at any time and at any place.

No matter what you did you could never get Leah to like you, so, if you can't beat them, join them.

Every comment leah made, you retaliated and leah didn't like it. Not one bit.

“Of course you're here.” Leah sighed as she stood beside you, ordering herself another drink.

You didnt turn to look at her, your focus still lingering on everyone else. Breathing through your nose, you gave a disgruntled hum with a small nod of your head.

“Not in the talkative mood tonight, y/n?” Leah questioned, a teasing undertone to her voice as she cocked her head to the side, looking at your side profile.

“Nope.” You replied, popping the ‘p’.

“That's unlike you.” Leah said. “Normally you’re going on and on about how much you hate me.”

“Mhm, maybe I've run out of energy.” You shrugged your shoulders, finally turning your head to look at her.

“Woah, who are you and what have you done to y/n?” Leah chuckled, the alcohol definitely present in her system.

“Very funny, good night Leah.” You said, your voice holding little emotion; sounding somewhat like a robot.

You placed your drink onto the bar counter and walked away from the defender; whose eyes stared at your back curiously.

Just as you were about to make your way out of the club, you felt a cold hand grab onto your arm. Turning around, you were met with a, now very noticeable, drunk Leah.

Sighing to yourself, your head dropped to the floor as you tried to regain any type of courage.

“And where do you think you’re going y/l/n?” Leah questioned, her voice coming out slurred.

“Home.” You deadpanned, removing Leah’s hand from your arm.

“Where’s the fun in that?” Leah pondered, eyebrows furrowing.

“A lot actually, I'll be away from you.” You said, giving a sarcastic smile before walking away again.

“Hey! Wait, one dance.” Leah shouted, catching up to you.

“I’m sorry?” You questioned incredulously, turning around to look back at Leah.

“One dance,” Leah pleaded, “and then you can go.”

“No?” You said, chuckling to yourself at how drunk Leah was.

“Come on. Stop being a party pooper.” Leah said, pulling on your arm and the two of you slowly made your way to the dance floor.

“Fine. One dance,” you huffed, giving in, “but that's it.”

A beaming smile took over Leah’s face as she dragged you in between all the bodies that littered the dance floor, planting the two of you right in the middle.

“Kill me now.” You muttered to yourself, standing as stiff as a board, freezing even more when Leah took a hold of your hands and placed them onto her waist.

“Let loose y/l/n.” Leah whispered into your ear before she turned around and started to dance.

Loud music drowned out your thoughts allowing you to forget about everything going on around you.

For a moment you forgot who you were with, what you were doing and where you were, allowing your mind to go somewhere else.

One dance seemed to turn into four and before you knew it you had been dancing with Leah for minutes on end.

Just as you were about to get lost in another dance, a body crashed into yours from behind, snapping you from whatever trace you were currently kept in.

Finally snapping back to your senses, you pulled your hands away from Leah and made your way out of the club, not uttering a single word to the blonde defender rushing behind you.

Letting out an exhale of air once you walked outside you rummaged around in your pockets for your phone only to come up short til you heard your name from over your shoulder.

“Looking for something?” Leah questioned as she walked towards you, your phone in hand.

“How did you get my phone?” You wondered as you tried to reach for your phone but Leah moved it out of your reach.

“That's for me to know and for you to find out.” Leah chuckled as she tapped your phone on your chest.

“Look leah,” you sighed exasperatedly, “just give me my phone, I need to call an uber.”

“How about I propose a deal?”

“I- yeah fine, whatever just give me my phone.” You said, throwing your hands up in the air as your patience grew very thin.

“Let's say I give you back your phone only if you agree to us getting married by a certain age- if we are single of course.”

“No chance.” You laughed, shaking your head in disbelief at the words that just came out of Leah's mouth.

“Fine, I get to keep your phone then.” Leah said, shrugging her shoulders before walking away and down the road.

“Fuck my life.” You muttered, looking up into the sky as your shoulders sagged.

You took one cleansing breath in before shaking your head and running to catch up with a certain blonde defender.

“I’ll do it.” You said, finally catching up to Leah, walking beside her.

“Finally came to your senses have you?” Leah questioned, the teasing tone coming back in full force.

“Don’t. I can't believe I agreed,” you sighed, “can I have my phone back now?”

“One more thing-”

“Oh what now?”

“You give me a ride home too.”

“Yeah, fine, okay.”

After you booked an uber, the two of you waited on the side of the road. You would occasionally turn your head to look at the blonde beside you, noticing that she hugged herself, shivering from the cold.

“Here.” You muttered, handing your jacket in front of Leah.

She looked at you confused for a second, before she gingerly reached her hand out and took the clothing from your hand.

A small ‘thank you’ fell from her lips as she slipped your jacket on, unconsciously pulling the material up to her nose, taking in your perfume that lingered on it.

The two of you didn't have to wait much longer and before you knew it, you were holding a car door open for Leah, letting her get into the uber before you.

The journey to Leah’s was short and the two of you were soon pulling up outside her place.

“Walk me to my door?” Leah asked, a small smile gracing her lips.

“I might as well, huh?” You replied, rolling your eyes although there was no malicious intent behind the action.

Promising the driver you would only be a couple of minutes, you exited the car and walked around to Leah’s side before opening her door. You held out your hand and she graciously took it in hers, pulling herself up and out of the car.

Shutting the door behind her, you walked her up to her front door where you stopped and waited for the blonde to open it.

After a little struggle, Leah managed to get her door open and she stepped into her place, turning around, one hand on the door the other fiddling with her keys.

“You’re a real piece of work, y’know.” You smiled, shaking your head.

“You love me though.” Leah joked, looking at her feet.

“In your dreams,” you laughed, “make sure you have some water and paracetamol in the morning.”

“Awh, you care about me.”

“Piss off, I'm going to be best friends with your hangover in the morning.”

“Yeah, yeah, goodbye y/l/n.” Leah smiled.

“Night.” You said, replying with a similar smile.

Just as you were about to back away from Leah’s doorstep her cold hand grasped your arm again for the second time that night. Stopping in your tracks, eyebrows raised, you wondered what Leah was going to say.

She looked a little conflicted, not knowing what to say so she didn’t say anything, giving you a little peck on your cheek before pulling away and walking back into her place with a smile not leaving her face.

Your eyebrows rose even higher than they were before and you let out a breathy chuckle before making your way back to the uber and back to your place.

The next morning you had training, begrudgingly getting out of bed, you got ready for the day. The journey wasn’t bad, although you felt a headache creeping its way into your head.

Suddenly, you regretted the amount of alcohol you consumed yesterday. You don't remember much from last night, only a few things here and there albeit they were still a little fuzzy.

You soon met up with the other girls and conversed as you walked onto the pitch. Out of the corner of your eye you saw a certain defender who looked like they had been to hell and back.

Letting out a quiet snicker, you walked past her shaking your head with a smile. Leah noticed and sent a sneer your way, not that you cared and that only aggravated her more.

Time went by quickly and before you knew it training had finished. You were walking back to your car when Katie came running up to you.

“Hey y/n!” Katie shouted, causing you to stop in your tracks.

“What's up?” You smiled, turning around to face her.

“Me and a couple of the girls are going bowling later and we wondered if you wanted to come?”

“Yeah, sure. It’s not like I've got anything else to do.” You shrugged.

“Cool, I'll send you the address.”

“Yeah, no problem, see you later.”

It was around six in the afternoon when you pulled your car up to the bowling alley. Getting out of your car you slid your phone into your pocket before walking into the place. You knew immediately where to go from the loud noise coming from a particular group.

Sending them a smile you walked up to them but it soon dropped, not enough for anyone to notice, but it was safe to say you didn't think you were going to enjoy tonight.

Standing next to Beth, Leah was typing away on her phone. Once the blonde looked up from her phone she sent you a look which can only be described as unfriendly. To everyone else, however, they seemed to miss the way the two of you interacted and put you both into a pair.

It was you and Leah, Manu and Viv, Beth and Katie, Lotte and Steph as well as Rafa and Jen. You had very low hopes and you had a strong feeling that instead of hitting the pins Leah may end up hitting you.

Beth and Katie were to go first and it was safe to say that you didn't think they were going to win. Whilst you watched as everyone took their turns you were sat beside Leah. the two of you sitting like statues.

You thought it was because of the hatred Leah had towards you but it was completely the opposite. All the defender could think about was last night, when she kissed you on the cheek.

She didn't know why she did it but it felt right. But she knew it shouldn't have. The fact that it was so wrong was why it felt so right. Leah knew she shouldn't be feeling the way she is but she couldn't help it.

The only reason why Leah acted like she hated you was because she was afraid of getting hurt. Before she could do anything about it she was already too far down the rabbit hole for her to get out.

Leah just had to accept the fact that you’d never like her the way she liked you, and she was fine with having you in her life as an ‘enemy’ rather than not having you in her life at all.

Whilst Leah was so caught up in her own thoughts she missed the way that you looked at her. Like she was the only person in the world. Although you wouldn't tell her that.

The two of you were pining over each other and the only thing stopping you both from telling your true feelings is the fake hatred you had created.

As time went on and as the little arguments grew and grew they turned into true feelings but you never really did hate her. You were using it as a defence system, afraid of getting hurt.

The two of you were so afraid of getting hurt you didnt realise it was already too painful for you both. Too painful to realise you could be together if you weren't stupid. Too painful to realise you were falling and you were falling hard.

It was finally your turn and you stood up, grabbing a bowling ball. You looked back at Leah, searching for any kind of encouragement from her but she was too focused on the floor.

Sighing to yourself quietly, you took a quick cleansing breath and acted as if it was a match final, and you were going to win.

With your first bowl of the evening you managed to get a strike causing an uproar from the girls, snapping Leah from whatever state she was in.

Turning her head towards the noise she noticed you had put the two of you in the lead and she let out a small smile, watching on as you dodged the playful insults being thrown in your way as you sat back beside Leah.

“Guess I won't have a go this round, huh?” Leah said, a small smile gracing her lips.

“Oh, yeah, sorry, my bad.” You replied, scratching the back of your neck.

“We’re winning, it doesn't matter.” Leah shrugged, turning to watch Manu as she bowled.

“Yeah.” You whispered, trying to fight off the smile that slowly crept onto your face.

It was the fifth round when everyone started to get hungry so you volunteered to go and get some food. After asking what everyone wanted you set off to the little snack bar.

“Hey.” You said, walking up to the bar.

“Hey, what can I get for you?” The lady asked, standing behind the counter. You weren't going to lie, she was beautiful but she didn’t come anywhere near to Leah

You told her what everyone had ordered and she left you to get all your food. As you waited you drummed your fingers on the counter. She was back before you knew it and handed you your food.

“Hopefully that's not all for you.” She chuckled, nodding to the food stacked in your arms.

“I don’t think I'll even get what is mine with how hungry my friends always are.” You replied with a chuckle of your own.

“Well, you're always welcome to come back.”

“Now, is that a marketing line or an excuse to see me again?” You questioned with a raise of your eyebrow.

“Depends on your answer.” She responded.

“I guess you’ll have to find out later.” You smiled, looking back at your friends who were waving you over.

“If i’m not here just ask for Holly.”

“Yea-” You started a reply but was cut off as someone spoke over you.

“I think they will be fine.” You didn’t need to turn around to notice who it was, sending a look of apology to Holly, you walked back to your friends with Leah.

“What was that for?” You asked.

“What?” Leah replied, acting oblivious.

“Back there, I was talking to her.”

“You were taking too long and everyone is hungry.” Leah said, dodging the real reason.

“Whatever.” You muttered, speeding up so you walked ahead of her.

Everyone cheered once you placed down all the food that you had brought and were quick to tuck in.

You sat down in your original place and fiddled with the receipt, not bothering to touch your food, once you realised there was writing on the back. You turned the receipt over and in blue writing was a number scribbled down with ‘text me’ underneath it.

Letting a smile take over your features, you looked over your shoulder and caught Holly’s eye, sending her a quick wink before finally opening the packet of crisps you bought.

Leah, who was sitting in front of you instead of next to you, watched the whole interaction and couldn't help the frown that formed on her face, anger bubbling from deep inside.

“What have you got there y/l/n?” Leah asked before she could stop herself and you looked like a deer caught in headlights.

Everyone turned to face you where you were sitting, struggling to find something to say.

“Y/n’s got someone's number.” Steph said as she looked over your shoulder and the girls ‘oohed’ teasingly.

“Leave me alone.” You chuckled, putting the receipt in your pocket.

“You going to text them?” Lotte questioned and you didn't miss the way Leah rolled her eyes.

“I don't know, do you think I should Leah?” You said, looking at Leah with a challenging look on your face.

“Why are you asking me?”

“It's just that you don’t like me, so you won’t mind me asking them out, right?

“No.” Leah said, a little too quickly gaining a look from a couple of the girls.

“No, as in you don’t mind or..?”

“I- I don’t-” Leah struggled, “just do what you want.”

Before you could even comprehend what was going on, Leah had gotten up rather abruptly and made her way into the toilets.

“What was that about?” You questioned, looking at the other girls.

“I think you should go talk to her.” Viv suggested.

“Why? I mean, you see how much we don’t like each other.”

“Actually, we see how much you love each other.” Beth corrected.

“You’re joking,” you laughed, “she hates my guts.”

“But what about you?”

“What about me?”

“How do you feel about her?” Jen joined in.

“Okay, there's no need for you to gang up on me.” You said, raising your hands up in defence.

“Just go talk to her. I think you both need to have a one on one conversation.” Rafa said.

“Fine, but if we end up killing each other, it's not my fault.” You sighed, getting up from your seat and making your way to the bathroom.

As you walked into the toilets you saw Leah splash her face with some water. At the sound of the door being closed, Leah looked into the mirror and her eyes caught yours.

“How was the hangover this morning?” You asked, not really knowing what else to say.

“What are you doing in here, y/n?” Leah wondered, ignoring what you had said and getting straight to the point.

“I came to check on you,” you shrugged, “the girls made me do it.”

“How kind of you.” Leah said sarcastically.

“Why’d you run off?” You questioned, walking closer to her.

“Like you care.”

“I did ask.”

“It’s complicated.”

“I don't mind complicated.” You said, leaning back against the sink.

“I don't know.” Leah mumbled, looking at her hands. “I guess I got hurt.”

“How?” You asked, genuinely confused.

“Seeing you talk to that girl-”

“Holly.”

“-yes her, I don't know, I guess it hurt knowing that I couldn’t make you smile like she did.”

“So you're jealous? That's why you interrupted our conversation.”

“No, tha- I- no. I'm not jealous.”

“So if i were to go back out-” You said, pointing your thumb towards the door.

“No.” Leah said quickly, grabbing onto your arm.

And that's when you felt it. Her cold hands on your arm sending sparks up to your heart, setting your whole body alight. Her chest was moving up and down, her gaze actively avoiding yours.

“You know, all of this would be so much easier if I actually hated you.” You whispered, your right hand coming up to brush a loose strand of hair behind her ear.

“What do you mean?” Leah asked, her gaze finally meeting yours.

“I never hated you and I never will.”

You cupped her cheek and ran your thumb along her cheekbone. Leah leant into your touch, unable to stop herself from the overwhelming feelings bubbling inside her.

Before either of you could realise what you were doing, you were both leaning in. Leah's grip tightened and her breath got caught in her throat. Hesitantly, you placed your lips on hers.

The sudden action had stunned Leah, her breath catching in her throat. She did not expect you to kiss her now. As her brain started to register what was going on, she kissed you back, putting her hands on your waist pulling you closer.

The two of you were caught up in your own small world, getting lost in the kiss. It wasn't rushed nor hungry, it was passionate and slow. You ended the kiss as you needed to breathe, getting a soft whine of protest from Leah.

“We shouldn’t be doing this.” You said breathlessly.

“Kiss me again.” Leah said, not letting go of your waist.

“But- mmph”

You moved your hand from Leah’s cheek to bury your fingers in her hair, the other hand sprawled out on the small of Leah’s back, pulling her closer until your chests were pressed together. The defender clutched the bottom of your shirt, feeling as it slowly rode upwards.

Her cold fingers splayed across your stomach, gently scratching your skin. You finally broke the kiss once again and you leaned your forehead against hers.

“For the record, I still hate you.” Leah smiled, her chest rising and falling rapidly.

“No you don't.” You chuckled.

“No I don't.” Leah said, shaking her head slightly, placing another peck to your lips.

#leah williamson #leah williamson x reader #leah williamson imagine #leah williamson imagines #woso #woso imagine #woso imagines

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