#oliver grabs his hand and his hair starts floating a little

[hypnogogyc]

mmwwuuaaah

#tma #my art #the magnus archives #tma art #tma fanart #the magnus archives art #oliver banks #mike crew #michael crew #terminal velocity #i think mike is incredibly weak to soft affection #oliver grabs his hand and his hair starts floating a little

[constesplanetarium]

꧁•⊹٭𝚃𝚑𝚎 𝙷𝚊𝚞𝚗𝚝𝚎𝚍 𝙼𝚊𝚗𝚜𝚒𝚘𝚗 𝚘𝚏 𝙷𝚘𝚞𝚜𝚎 𝙲𝚊𝚜𝚝𝚒𝚎𝚕𝚕𝚘.٭⊹•꧂

☼⚠︎ Male! Yandere Ghosts/Spirit Harem x GN! AFAB! Reader (Part 2)

UPDATE!

Darkness rating ) 5/10: “Need a bandaid?”

✧─── ･ ｡ﾟ★: *.✦ .* :★. ───✧

part 1 is here!

WE ARE BACK W THE GHOST BOYS!!!! you get to meet the other two this time ;)

✧─── ･ ｡ﾟ★: *.✦ .* :★. ───✧

CONTENT WARNINGS!!!

General Yandere shenanigans (possessiveness, jealousy, aggression towards other guys, etc.), blood, violence, kidnapping.

Word count: Around 4.2k

⋆♱✮☽🦇☽✮♰⋆

A quick turn of your heel and you're off the way you came, almost tumbling down onto the carpet a couple of times. The spirit's laughter rings above you as you glance up, a bunch of small, blob-like figures in the air. They’re all grinning as you take a right, down another long corridor. You can feel the adrenaline pumping in your veins as you turn down another hallway, slowing down once you notice that the candles aren’t lit here. You reach for your flash-

Oh yeah. You left your backpack in the sewing room. You grumble and squint your eyes in the darkness, trying to let your eyes adjust quickly. Who the hell was the figure anyway? It didn’t look like Oliver or Austin. You lean against a wall and start to think to yourself.

Is there really any point in trying to escape from the courtyard anymore? Maybe you should break a window or something.

… With what fucking tools are you gonna break that window with? Maybe you can grab a candle holder or a hard book. But there’s still the broken glass issue.

Maybe it’s time to wave the white flag? Should you go find this Edmund yourself? None of these spirits have been hostile, nor have they tried to kill you.

Once you open your eyes, the pitch darkness meets you again, but it’s a bit clearer to see now. You take a glance to your left, then your right, and just start to wander aimlessly. The moonlight shining through the windows guides your way as you peer at every little door you see. This mansion is as big as a castle, isn’t it? Should you try calling Edmund’s name?

After a few minutes, you’re still walking, seeing the occasional servant spirit here and there. You can hear some giggles and cheers as you pass by, and at this point you’re just waving and smiling at the spirits. They’re surprisingly very sweet… Though, you did try to ask a few of them where Edmund was, and all they did was laugh and float away.

Then you take a sharp turn, and you jump at the sight of a familiar face. Not one you’ve talked with before, but one you’ve seen in the portraits. It looks like he’s looking around for something.

You look around for a place to hide and observe, but there's nothing you can use to hide in the hallway. He turns your way quickly, and you see some recognition in his eyes, but he scowls soon after.

“Oh, it’s you.” The guy grumbles and fists his hands in his pockets. His suit is similar to Olivers, but more tattered and ragged. Certain buttons are loose or missing altogether, and some of the frills on his sleeves are ripped. His caramel-like skin matches well with his messy, dark brown hair, and the red and gold of his tattered suit. “You’re the visitor, aren’t you?” A quick nod from you is all he needs for his mood to shift. His shoulders ease up and his eyes soften, a sigh leaving his mouth. “There’s no point in being too rough with you, I guess. Edmund would have my head if I did that.” So this is Dalton?

“That’s right.” he says, fidgeting with a loose button on his suit. “You must be looking for Edmund at this point.” It looks like he’s trying to hold back a chuckle, with the way he’s smiling. “Have you given up on leaving on your own accord?” You heave a long, tired sigh, but admit defeat with a slow nod, and his smile grows wider. “What a shame, but it’s less work for me. Come now.” At least he’s straight to the point, unlike the other two.

He isn’t very chatty, just walking aside you in silence as your footsteps are muffled by the carpet. You wish you could ask him questions about the mansion, but he probably wouldn’t answer you.

“Why’d you come here?” Ah, there’s a suspicious tone there. He’s trying to dig for info. You blabber out the same excuse that you gave Oliver, and he raises a brow.

“Oh really? Just curiosity?” He scoffs. “Now do you realize how stupid you are for coming here? After dealing with those two idiots, aren’t you-” A flash of embarrassment shows up on his features, but he shakes his head lightly and lets out a sigh. “Nevermind.”

Ugh. What’s his deal? You frown at the light insult he threw your way, and he registers your irritation. “I, erm…” He shakes his head again, and doesn’t say anything else. So no apology?

The very least he can do is answer a question you have.

“Possession? I’m sorry?” You explain to him what you felt during the time, but make sure not to go too into detail. Some things are better left private. You watch his face shift more and more into discontent. His breathing becomes heavy as he scowls. “It wasn’t a full possession by the way you’re explaining it. Only partial.” So a sort of half-possession? What the hell? “During a possession like that, it just lets you… Feel the person you're possessing.” So Alex wanted to touch you? Huh.

“Stop talking about him.” He snaps at you, and you flinch at his sudden outburst. “I don’t want to hear his fucking name come out your mouth. I don’t want to hear about him touching you, both him and Oliver, it’s disgusting.” What the fuck? “Treating the new visitor in that way, they can’t even go a day without satisfying their urges. They’re disgusting.” Giggles and soft shrieks ring above you as you look up, a bunch of spirits hearing him gossip about the other two. Once you catch them, they all start to laugh and vanish quickly. It looks like Dalton’s more angry at them being there than you, but he holds himself back from saying anything else.

Alright, never ask Dalton any questions. That’s a good mental note.

Both of you are silent again for the next few seconds, until he points to a double door on your right. You walk up and tug on the handle, but it doesn’t budge. His soft chuckling rings in your head as grabs the opposite handle, a small click signaling to you that it's open as he pulls on it.

You peer inside to be met with a dark and gloomy, yet beautiful study. The moonlight illuminates the room enough for you to see decently well. Books are strewn all over the place, and papers as well. There’s the regular sofa and chair, with a small table set in the middle. Around the right corner, there’s a desk and a couple of quills that seem unused. This mansion has a lot of studies, huh? You wonder how many people really lived here in the mansion.

Until, y’know, the haunting.

“You didn’t get to spend a lot of time with either of them, right?” Once you walk into the room and agree, a small smile creeps onto his face, but he covers it with his hand, grunting a bit. “Mm, okay.” A small, shaky sigh leaves him as he sits down. “We won’t be distracted then.” Relief velvets his voice as he takes a seat and leans back on the sofa. Ah, so he was planning something after all. You smirk and take a seat next to him, asking him just that.

“Well, it’s not like you have anything better to do.” He says. “Both of them just wasted your time anyway. They had ample time to take you to Edmund, yet they didn’t.” He clenches his fist and utters a small curse. “It’s only fair that I get my turn.” He whispers, and you can’t help but feel your life may potentially be in danger now.

But do you care?

“So what? Are you playing with their hearts or something?” He takes a glance at you to see your reaction, and you shake your head in a refusal. “Even if you were, it’s likely they wouldn’t be able to tell for a while. They’re idiots.” Your eyes can't help but analyze his demeanor, noticing every twitch and shake of his hands is kind of interesting. Does he hate them that much?

His hands ease at your question, and he stares at you with sincerity. “I, ah,” His fingers clasp together, and he rubs his left thumb on his right, an uneasy look in his eyes. “I consider hate to be a… Strong word.” It looks like he’s uncomfortable.

Best not to push.

With a small shake of your head, you reach over to rub his thigh comfortingly, but your hand phases right through, and you start to shiver. It’s still confusing how sometimes you can touch them and other times you can’t. Dalton grabs your wrist and raises your hand up a little, setting it back on his thigh. You can never get over that cold feeling all of them have.

“I don’t need your pity, but thank you.” He murmurs, rubbing your hand slowly. “It’s not a sensitive topic by any means, it’s just a bit… Embarrassing, I suppose.” Dalton smiles at you, with a certain softness in his eyes. “I’ll tell you more about it later.”

Hey, this small talk isn’t so bad. You can feel your nerves to relax, taking the chance to sink into the soft sofa, and he looks over at you.

“I’m better than Alex and Oliver, aren’t I?” He says. You tilt your head a bit at the sudden question. Is he trying to make himself look better? He notices your confusion and his smile grows wider. “Oh, it’s nothing.”

Nothing, huh?

He bites his lip as you stare at him, shuffling around in place. You can’t see well, but you can see him enough to the point where you watch his chest rise up and down faster. “Don’t look at me like that. Please.” He grasps his left hand in his right, rubbing his palm with his thumb. “It’ll be hard to hold myself back.”

After a couple of seconds, it doesn’t take him long to fold at all, as he scoots closer yo you, caressing your cheek. “You would make a beautiful painting.” Dalton speaks quietly, like he’s afraid someone will hear him. “You’re like a flower.” Strangely, that's a cute compliment coming from him. You smile up at him and embrace him, feeling his cold aura and body around you. Lord, it’s like you're hugging a snowman.

Might as well embrace these boys at this point.

His cold tongue slips against yours as he kisses you, breaking the kiss to nibble desperately at your bottom lip. “Let me just be with you a little longer before I take you to Edmund. I won’t do that possession thing that they did. I’m better than those two, aren’t I?” It’s debatable. You’re not sure if you would really care at this point. “Right?” Plus, he’s really damn cold… “You smell so nice, you taste so good, I can’t…” Dalton groans as you rub your hand against his crotch, moving it up and down to gain some friction.

His hips buck slowly against your hand, savoring every feeling as he moans softly in your ear. “You’re so warm, oh…” A stupid grin spreads on your face as you look up at him. He looks so euphoric, it’s pretty funny.

Also pretty damn hot.

Dalton jumps as both of you turn your heads to the bookshelf on the side of the room. A bunch of books had just fallen and hit the ground with a loud thud.

“What the hell…” He whines as you move your hand from his crotch, and you glance up at the ceiling instinctively.

Oh.

It looks like you both had some voyeurs.

“You damn…” Dalton hisses and climbs off of you, standing up. “None of you can give me a moment's peace, huh?!” Dalton yells angrily at the spirits above you two, fits of shrieks and laughter filling the room. All the spirits vanish at once, leaving you and Dalton in an embarrassing silence.

Damn spirits, cockblocking you.

“Ugh.” He clicks his tongue and looks back at you, clearly displeased. “... Let me take you to Edmund now, yes?”

Unfortunately, yes.

“There you are, darling!” Oliver’s voice rings out as you feel his chill body push against yours once he pulls you into a tight bear hug. “I thought I told you to wait in the library? What’re you doing with-” He glares at Dalton. “Him?”

“I found them wandering the hallway after you did such a terrible job of taking care of them, Oliver.” Dalton snaps at him. Both of them glare at each other, until Alex has to break the ice.

“Let the visitor go, Ollie. Edmund needs to see them.” Alex grumbles and Oliver hesitantly lets you go, glaring at both men as he stands by your side. You finally get a look at the man in the middle of the room, seated in a large chair behind a desk. There are so many studies here, huh?

“I finally get to meet you, visitor. I’ve been waiting quite some time, you know?” A calm, cheerful voice rings out from him, and he gives you a bright smile.

He has medium length black hair, alongside an odd monocle as he waves over to you with a white gloved hand, covering his tan skin. His black suit is more fancy than Oliver’s and Daltons combined, covered in gold and silver engravings all over, tied up nicely together with a black rose pin right above his heart. There’s some light stubble on his face, and you can automatically tell he’s a bit older than everyone else in the room. Perhaps around late twenties to early thirties before his death day?

“Please, sit.” He points to the chair across from him, and you can hear Oliver and Dalton behind you as you take a seat. Edmund peers up at the two, “Excuse me, I’d like to speak with the visitor alone, please.” His smile widens as you hear the light groans of annoyance of Oliver, and a small click of the tongue from Dalton. You take a small glance at Alex to see his face shift into one of annoyance, “Oh.” But he looks down at you and flashes you a quick smile before taking his leave.

“I’ll see you later, okay?” Oliver rubs your shoulder before taking his leave as well, and Dalton just nods at you before following Oliver out.

“Good riddance, am I right?” Edmund chuckles as the door shuts loudly behind them all, making you jump. “I’m only kidding.” A loud lock of the knob makes you feel a bit uneasy. If this is the big boss of them all, who knows what he could do? “Please don't be frightened. I’d just rather not be interrupted while conversing with you.” You bite the inside of your lip and wait for him to speak some more.

“I didn’t even get to introduce myself. It seems that everyone else has done that job for me, but I’d prefer to do it properly.” He rises up from his seat, bending over the table as he reaches his hand out. “I’m Edmund, as you know. Edmund Castiello.” You take his hand, surprised at how warm it is compared to the other men. Is it because of his gloves? He brings it up to his lips, kissing the back of your palm gently. “Pleased to make your acquaintance, visitor.” He takes his seat again, interlacing his fingers and placing them under his chin, his elbows resting on the table. “I do hope none of them gave you too much trouble?”

You wish.

“Ah,” Edmund laughs and claps his hands together. “They all got too excited that you’re here, I presume? They’ve always been a rowdy bunch. Please excuse their behavior. I’ll chastise all of them for it later.” You shake your head and stammer out an excuse for all of them. Rowdy, sure. But it wasn’t like you had a bad time with each of them…

“Are you sure?” He frowns. “Treating a guest with such…” He pauses, fidgeting with his gloves. “Rude, and not to mention inappropriate behavior isn’t tolerated here.” You laugh it off with a smile, and his shoulders seem to ease up from your laughter. “Very well.”

Oh. Speaking of all of them, shouldn’t you mention the possession?

Yeah.

“Possessing? But only partially?” He sighs and fidgets with a lock of his hair. “Ah, yes. Our way of connecting with humans and creatures alike.”

Connecting?

“We just call it partial possession,” he starts. “It’s nothing too extravagant. It just allows us spirits to be able to really touch the person we’re possessing. If it were a full possession, we would just take control over your whole body in general.” He drags a gloved finger down the desk slowly. “We can control your actions to some extent, but if you really do fight it, it can be broken easily.” He sighs. “It looks like Oliver hit you harder than Alex. He has always been a bit more aggressive and eccentric.”

… Oliver? He possessed you?

“Oh? You… You don’t remember?” A frown spreads onto his face, followed by a short sigh and a small face palm. “It was your first time being possessed, of course you don’t remember.” The air around you two suddenly becomes thick, and you shuffle into your seat uncomfortably. “He had told me about it, but I had no idea you didn’t-” He clenches his fist, and takes a heavy breath in and out in an attempt to calm himself. “I’ll punish him for that later.” He whispers, returning his gaze back to you. “I’m sorry. Please, continue.”

It’s not like you were really fighting the possession though, so…?

“When you saw the lights flicker, it distracted your mind from the situation at hand. That’s why it broke the possession. Since it was your…” He clears his throat. “First time, I can only assume it was because Oliver can’t properly possess yet. In Alexander’s case, I guess your urge to leave overpowered the fact that you wanted to ride his cock.” Your face warms up as you break eye contact with Edmund. You can hear him softly tapping on his desk, and you feel him bare a hole in your head with just his gaze. He doesn’t seem pleased.

“It’s natural to feel that way towards someone you find attractive.” He says softly, in a sort of sweet tone that makes you start to melt in your seat. “Don’t be too hard on yourself, beloved.” He tries to smile, but you can tell he’s still bothered by your attraction to Alex. “Back to the topic of Possession, yes? Let me demonstrate.”

Oh? Of course, he wants his turn, too. Are you going to keep being passed around like this?

… Eh. You don’t really care.

“Now, see how when I touch you, it feels warmer?” He rises up and bends over the table, almost knocking over a small bottle of ink you didn’t see at first. He sets a gloved hand on your heart, and then he drags his finger down from your shoulder to your chest, and you sigh in content. God, that feels good. “Hmm.” He pushes his seat back with his foot, and it bumps into the bookshelf behind it with a loud bang. This doesn't seem to phase him as he comes up to your side and cups your cheek, forcing you to look at him. “Are you not scared, beloved?”

Considering the fact that this is your fourth time at things, no.

“How odd.” Your reaction, or lack thereof, doesn’t seem to deter him as he leans in close, kissing you on your forehead. Your eyes widen at the unexpected gesture. Your forehead instead of your lips?

“I can wait my turn. For the right moment.” His small smile breaks into a grin, pleased at your reaction as the warmness fades from your body. He leans against his desk and lets out a sigh. “Though, it is difficult to hold myself back… Do you feel the same way?”

You give him a small smile, and he fixes his gloves around the wrist. “Well then, it’s time to…” He seems lost in thought for a moment, but he turns his gaze back to you with a familiar smile. “Reconcile with the group, yes? I wish I didn’t have to cut this short so early, but it’s quite urgent.”

“Darling!” Oliver waves happily as you step into the main exit hall. It looks like he was waiting for you eagerly at the entrance, similar to a puppy, while Alex was standing off to the side, looking around as he mindlessly pet Pochi’s head. Dalton was leaning against the wall, fidgeting with the buttons on his suit again. There are another two statues on the outside of the door, the same creatures you couldn’t comprehend last time, but now as you get a better look at it, it might be a sort of feline. Just by peering out the window beside the door, you can tell it's the courtyard. There are several flower beds outside, and maybe even a greenhouse, but that's all you can really see from here.

“Welcome back.” Dalton hums and stops leaning on the wall, making his way over to you. Oliver does the same.

“Hello.” And so does Alex in the middle. They’re even more intimidating once you bunch them up and let them get as close to you as they are right now.

“Give the visitor space, will you?” Edmund says behind you, setting a hand on your shoulder as he shoos away the other boys with a motion of his hand. They all grumble incoherently and take a step back.

“I do hope you had a nice time today.” He rubs your shoulder and swivels around so he’s standing in front of you.

Finally getting a good look at all of them together, you tilt your head a bit. They all look like a pretty good unit together. A team. Maybe a family?

You find yourself filled with a soft, warm feeling as you brush the thought off. It’s just you piecing things in your head that aren’t real.

From what you’ve seen so far, these boys literally hate each other. Except for Edmund.

Welp, it was fun while it lasted. Time to go home.

“Home?” Alex tilts his head, and Pochi’s head seems to bob to the side as well. “What do you mean?”

What?

Oh.

Oh.

Of course.

That’s what Edmund meant when he said he can “wait his turn”.

As soon as you stepped into the mansion, you were bound here.

“Did you think you were leaving?” Dalton says, looking at you with a sort of pity. Something inside you wanted to hold onto that hope, but…

“Oh, poor, poor beloved. I’m sorry for not telling you.” Edmund cooes and holds the sides of your head lovingly, running his freezing fingers through your hair. Everything feels so much colder. It hurts a little, like it’s pricking into your skin. “It’s okay, it’s only for a little while. We all just love you here so much, in such a short amount of time. You’re a very interesting person, see,” He leans in close, whispering against your lips with a shaky breath. “Let us continue watching you.”

There’s a sudden ringing in your head, to the point where you can feel a small trickle of blood pour out. Your eyes roll back in the back of your head as you aggressively cough out spurts of blood, all of it spilling out onto the carpet, staining it with a dark crimson. You can’t see what’s around you anymore. Your vision is so blurry. Everything hurts. It hurts it hurts it hurts it hurts it hurts it hurts

“We’ll be here when you wake up, beloved.” It hurts. “Alex, watch over them.”

Your body is so weak you can’t even protest, and you fall into a cold grasp of a familiar blonde-headed man. All he does is smile down at you as your world fades to black.

part 3 is here!

ミ★ 𝘢𝘶𝘵𝘩𝘰𝘳𝘴 𝘯𝘰𝘵𝘦𝘴. ★彡

sorry for not posting in a week, i got hit w a mean burnout. had to make this part a little shorter so i could get it out

BUT IM BACK!!

ill prolly work on the 3rd part in a bit

PS. it’s olivers part, you spend the day w him :]

its in the order you met them, so next its alex, then dalton, and then edmund <3

ngl, im really in love with these characters already. i think after this series is done i might drop the yandere aspect and flesh them out as real oc’s of mine w deeper lore <3

OR I CAN DO BOTH LIKE WRITE THEM W AND WITHOUT YANDERE ASPECTS IF YALL WANT!!!

#yandere #yandere x reader #male yandere #x gn reader #yandere oc #yandere oc x reader #dead dove do not eat #male yandere x reader #obsessive yandere #yandere ocs #yandere ghost

[kvrokasaa]

PT 3: New Emotions

You don't remember much, scenes kept replaying in your head. Olivia kept handing you shots, you danced with your friends, and Oliver kissed you.

Wait!

You and Oliver kissed? You shoot out of bed, immediately regretting it, your hangover is killing you. But Oliver kissed you; you kissed Oliver. What the fuck. How and why did you kiss him?

You sigh and try to remember more. You danced with Oliver, you got a ride home with Oliver, and you both made it to your apartment. You're still wearing clothes, so you know that nothing happened. But where is Oliver? Did he go home? You walk out of your bedroom and head towards the kitchen. You need coffee. But a jostle of movement made you stop in your tracks.

You walk towards the living room and see the man who's running your mind. Did he sleep on the couch? "Oliver? You awake?" He groaned and cracked open his eyes. Once he saw you, he smiled. "Oh hey," he yawned. "Good mornin'." You bent down and brushed some of his hair away from his eyes.

"Hey, we didn't," you paused. Oliver understood what you meant, "No, I'm not that kinda guy." He stretched and climbed out of the couch. "But if you want to," he teased. You quickly shook your head, a deep red painting your face.

You covered your face so he couldn’t see the bright blush. “Do you want coffee?” Was your voice always this high-pitched? You peeked through your fingertips when you heard rustling, a small nod came from Oliver. Quickly getting up and rushing to the coffee machine, you made him a cup of coffee. “Black with a little amount of sugar, thanks,” Oliver said.

After two minutes, his coffee was done and you brought it to him. This was the first time you’ve ever seen someone chug coffee, the shock was swimming through your eyes. “Tryna leave that quick,” you teased.

He only chuckled. “Nah, I just gotta get to practice.” You gave him a confused stare, “I play soccer, practice is almost every day,” he clarified. You hummed and walked away, grabbing some water and aspirin. “For the hangover.”

“Can I at least get your number?” Oliver was leaning against your front door, he wouldn’t let you open it to let him leave until he got what he wanted. “Listen, our kiss was a simple mistake. We were both drunk and I,” you paused, do you really want to confess to a random guy? “I’m just not in the right headspace to be seeing someone.” Yeah, that’s better.

“Oh, I don’t mean imma pursue you, I just wanna talk to you,” he gave you a sweet smile. You’ve known guys like Oliver, you were always the friend that had to give out free therapy because of guys like Oliver. So, why you give him your number, you don’t know.

You opened the door and let him out. But of course, Karasu just had to be standing there. With his friend no less. His eyes widened and he quickly looked away, hurt and shock floating around them. Before his friend, Otoya, could say anything, you pushed Oliver to leave.

Oliver winked at you and left. Once he got into the elevator, Otoya started to speak. "So, new guy, huh?" You scoffed, you still don't know Otoya that well, but you've also never been one to hide your displeasure. "No, not a new guy," you glared at Otoya, "What kind of person do you think I am?" Otoya chuckled and looked over at Karasu.

He snaked his arm over Karasu's shoulder and whispered in his ear. You couldn't hear what either of them was saying, but Karasu's smile returned in a matter of seconds. It wasn't as cheerful as usual, but Karasu looked happier than a moment ago.

"So, who's the guy?" Karasu asked in a low breath. You shifted your attention from Otoya to Karasu. "Oh, um," you cleared your throat. What could you say, that Oliver is a friend? You just met the guy, but you don't want to seem like the type of person who brings random men into your apartment. "He's just a friend," you said as you lowered your eyes to the floor. Otoya cleared his throat, a little pissed that no one was paying attention to him, "How long have you known this 'friend?' " Otoya was skeptical, which was obvious by his accusatory tone. He narrowed his eyes, zoning in on your nervous expression.

You didn't answer, you don't have to answer this unknown guy. You smoothed your hands over your clothes. "I should get back inside," you looked down at your clothes, you're still wearing your pajamas. You said your goodbyes to Karasu and Otoya and headed back into your apartment.

#bllk #bllk x reader #bllk x you #blue lock #bllk otoya #otoya eita #tabito karasu x reader #karasu tabito x reader #karasu tabito #bllk karasu

[aloneatpeace]

In Another Universe

Chapter 20

Mount wundagore

You float on midair with Darhold Infront of you with branches of numerous realities around you, Wong held captive by the red mist, hands tied and bloody and bruised face. Eyes closed you reach out the universe where you could dream walk, to get close to your family faster. While you still hear your subconscious reach earth 838.

Earth 838 y/n was making table as you watch, Alex and your boys watching a new movie that the boys wanted watch for a quite some time. As the variant y/n move to get more dishes you follow, feeling the presence the variant glance back but you hide behind the staircase that led to second floor of the house. An ominous feeling crept through her spin as the wind starts to get harsher, the floor felt slippery as her legs tumbled the picture of her earlier birthday seems to look at her making her breath gets shorter the lights creaked. The broth dish starts to move she take the dish her hands but the wind gets harsher and more made her almost drop it and place it on the side her breath gets shorter a massive headache that made her hunch over the front of the sink.

Shaking her head, she stands a sigh leaving her lips she unintentionally glance at window to see a reflection of her but in different clothes, she doesn’t look like her at all even the though the facial features are same. She can see its not her its someone else someone more cruel, cold hearted, she seems to glare at her.

 She tries to move but her feet kept her an excruciating pain exploded in her chest she closes her eyes face pinched at the pained expression, suddenly everything went quite as she opens her eyes a red hue shine in her iris.

You sigh as you able to get inside your variant.

“Mom, are you alright?” a small voice called you from behind.

“yeah” you slowly turn to see your son Charlie stand there with a worried look on his face. At the sight of him you melt inside. He slowly walks towards you as you watch with adoration.

He stands Infront of you kneel before him, his put his little hands on your forehead puzzled pout on his lips when he feels no temperature but he heard you wince. “You alright mom?”

You smile wholeheartedly a tenderness that only received for your boys you run your hands through his hair “I'm alright sweetheart”

He hums satisfied with the answer he turns his head “get ready I’m coming with mom”

“Just come then” Oliver impatient voice yell back

Charlie takes your hands in his “come on mom” you let him pull you wherever he wants with a soft smile on your face.

As you get to the table Oliver and Alex stands beside a large cake on the table Charlie run towards them, together they start to yell happy birthday to you. The boys try to copy their fathers voice Alex smiley smile at there antics as he sings wishes to you.

This what it like to leave with them.

  One of the warriors slowly walk towards Wong, to avoided get caught by the scarlet witch. Wong left his head up weakly “you are alive “

The witch node “but not many other have lost”

“Set me free, I need to destroy the book”

“no. it’s can’t be you” she softly whispers before caring his cheeks, she silently moves towards the darkhold that hover the air, unsheathing the knife that hidden in her robes.

“NO, sara no”

She grabbed the darkhold and stab it forcefully with the knife.

The connection to dream walk break making both you and earth 838 you fall. In earth 838 Alex and your boys run towards shouting your name in concern at the sudden fall. You look up from the kneeling ground to get the boys, your variant also kneels to comfort the worried boys.

“Boy…... boys ……...”

“MOM…”

“Love are you alright?” Their voice echoes in your head as faint connection still there before it all lost.

Sara body burned as she destroyed the darkhold, you hastily grab the book tears threating to fall a sob screaming inside you.

Quickly the saddens was replace by furious anger, glaring at Wong you throw him by blasting a red mist to the destroyed temple front.

“I need the darkhold spell’s, you’re the sorcerer supreme. Tell me what you know”

Wong spit out the blood “you’re gonna have to kill me, witch”

You shake your head “no not you, them” you lift your hands and the survived warriors held in midair as you bind them with red magic binds, they squirm in pain whimpers and pained plea for life reach Wong’s ear

“y/n stop. y/n please”

You flick your wrist more pain shoot through them making the scream for life. Seeing them in pain Wong give in

“The darkhold was just copy”

You stop “a copy”

“Legends speaks of a mountain with the wretched spells you seek carved into its wall. Its is where darkhold was transcribed. Mount wundagore, Wanda Maximoff mother of all witches and witchcraft worshiped there it centuries ago”

“no one survived the journey, no one is welcomed there”

You lift a finger letting the dead man’s sling ring fly and throw it to Wong “perhaps we will the exception”

Sam, dean and Klaus was handcuffed and an electric device that shocked them was placed on their neck. America stands next to them with a guilty look her face, they are put in glass box all they don’t remember how they got here when they wake up this how they found themselves. the door of the lab and a guy walk in Sam’s and dean eyed widen “CAS?”

The cas in question give them a blank questioning look dean gulp he just saw him getting vanished because of you. “This is a highly secure research facility you three will be tested and will be in surveillance under us”

“I am no lab rat to be tested” Klaus seethes

“What you mean? cas?”

“I am not your cas as you speak of and test are being done because you are unwelcomed here traveling from one universe to another is not a normal thing. We need to run some test to identify you”

“Wait… what earth are we on/” Sam asks

“This is earth 838” the monitor near beep alerting cas “he walks towards the system transferring the data to his tablet “let’s take look, you all are from earth 616.”

“How…. How do you know all about this how are you even here working for whatever this guy is? “Dean stutter out

“Well……. I’m here because something you both did” cas said walk towards them “it was not like that; you both brought a massive apocalypse here every dead and living in affected by that not just that every creature of hell was unleashed “

 “What did we do?” Sam asks hesitantly

“You brought the mother of all monsters Echidna”

Dean shrug “but we made it right”

Cas tilt his head side “no the illuminate did”

“So where are we? “Sam point at Klaus “where is he… the other him”

“Well Klaus and every vampire that broke the law was killed” Klaus glare at cas “Sam and dean died during the battle. That’s how I got this job “

“Great we all dead then”

A message pop in cas tablet as Ultron enter the lab “now you will be meeting the illuminate

 “So, is this illuminate we speaking are they bad guys or good?” dean glance at Ultron warily

America watches as the guys were walked out Sam turns to cas “take care of that kid” he node at America “its going to be okey”.

The winds blow harshly on the mountain tops as orange glow portals open Wong step out of it behind from him you step out. The wundagore stand proud and tall carved with stones “you couldn’t portal us up there”

“My magic can only take us here; master of mystic’s arts is not welcomed here. It’s a forbidden ground.”

You thrust your hands to side lifting yourself above as we as Wong and levitate to the temple, as you enter you could see carving of symbols and spells on stones some of the pillars have broken missing parts.

“Eons ago, the first demon, chthon, carved his dark magic into the tomb “he speaks as you taken the tomb. Some of the stones fall down but you and Wong continue walking after casting final glance at behind “there is no telling what soulless monstrosities lies within”

You let the red mist lit the fire cauldron in the corners all around when you lit one behind Wong, a creature that reside in the tomb stalk towards you with loud roar, Wong summon shields to defend him as one more come and when the last giant creature revels itself you levitate yourself to on to the stone table.

Your breath heavy and prepare yourself for the fight as three close the distance and both to your and Wong’s surprise they kneel Infront of you holding left hand to the right side of them “they’ve been waiting for me”

You look down at Wong glancing back at the statue that oddly similar to you “this isn’t a tomb” the red glow on your palm “it’s a throne”

Sam, dean and Klaus is leading to the illuminate by the Ultron’s, hands cuffed. They get pushed into the room.

“Sam Winchester dean Winchester and Klaus Mikaelson, you are now called before the illuminati. I, Baron Karl Mordo, the sorcerer supreme, do hereby. Captain carter the first avenger, Blackagar Boltagon”

“You all bunch of comic dudes” deans’ eyes wide looking at them “I thought it was captain America?” Sam sigh at his brother comment. “Hidigy hidithere” he said lifting his hands

Karl gives him a look before continuing “captain marvel defender of the cosmos” from a blue teleportation light square a guy turns “and the smartest man alive Reed Richards of the fantastic four”

Dean turns to Sam with a frow “your title is gone”

“Hello dean”

“Fantastic four? Didn’t you guys’ chart in the 60’s”

“Dean just …. Just shut up” Sam said to his brother in a whisper

“I’m sorry, is this a joke to you?” the captain marvel asks dean already not pleased with his behavior

“Well, there’s a guy over there with a fork on his head. So, yeah, a little bit.” Dean answer beside him Klaus chuckle at that 

Black bolt glare at the two and gesture with his hands to keep their mouth shut

“Be grateful black bolt doesn’t engage you in a conversation” captain carter state

“Why does he have bad breath?”

“This dean is even more arrogant than ours” captain America share a smile with captain marvel

“No, just more alive”

Captain marvel recounter “for now”

“I am sorry for their behalf” Sam speaks up finally “we don’t want any trouble. Trust us we don’t even know how we got here. We were just trying to a help a kid”

Reed smile at Sam “Sam, your arrival here confuses and destabilize reality. The larger the footprint you leave behind the greater the risk pf an incursion”

“Incursion?”

“An incursion occurs when the boundary between two universe erodes and they collide destroying one or both entirely” reed tell them in all seriousness

 “The illuminate created to make difficult decisions that no one else could. Today, we’re here to determine what to do with you all and the child” captain carter state

“So, before we vote, if you got anything serious to say, now’s the time” captain marvel says

“Yeah, I do.” Dean walk towards them “if its incursion you’re worried about. Do you seriously think we are a bigger threat than the scarlet witch?”

With great confidence and determination captain marvel look said “oh, we can handle your little witch if she decides to dream walk”

“No. no, you cannot. Not unless you give us the book of vishanti” Sam firmly asserts

“We appreciate your concern, Sam but it’s not the scarlet witch that we fear, from our greatest danger to the multiverse, it turns out is Sam Winchester “

Dean frown as well Sam at the statement wondering what he did wrong

“He what did he do?” Klaus speak for the first time he was trying process everything that happened last couple of hours ago and he didn’t want to talk to the people that massacre his species.

“We should tell him the truth” a new voice said, everyone turns to the voice fancy wheelchair come in the view

“Our final member, professor Charles Xavier”

“What truth?” dean asks aggravated 

“that’s not how our Sam Winchester and Dean Winchester died”.

Series masterlist

Not really satisfied but i think I like it .

#tvd x reader #spn x reader #tvd x spn #reader #maximoff reader #wandavison au #scarlet witch au #doctor strange mom au #sam winchester x reader #sam and dean #sam winchester #dean winchester #castiel #bonnie bennet #klaus mikaelson #kol mikealson #elijah mikealson #stefan salvatore #damon salvarote #elena gilbert #caroline forbes #wong #kamar taj #scarlet witch reader #tvd x spn x reader #harry styles x reader #in another universe #aloneatpeacefic #tvd fanfiction

[redheadspark]

Prompt 24 with oliver wood for your soulmates prompt session please ☺💗

A/N - I find this SO cute for Oliver! Thanks for requesting it, anon!

Such a Gryffindor

Summary - Being Oliver Wood's Soulmate was something you never saw coming, but you wouldn't take it back.

Warnings - Just some good ol' fashioned fluff

It started early in the morning when you were waking up, the small sensation of a tug against your lower stomach.

You blinked awake slowly, reached behind you to feel for the other body that would be there.  

“Babe?  You okay?” You asked in a groggily tone, but there was nobody there.  In fact, his side of the bed as cold and his sheets were bunched.  You turned, looking over your shoulder to see that the other side of your king sized bed was empty.  it made you raise your eyebrow in confusion, since this was not like your husband. If he could, he would sleep the entire day away.

But once again, you felt a huge tug against your stomach.  You knew it was coming from him.

If you would have asked your younger self if you were going to be soulmates with Oliver Wood, you would have laughed and called yourself a liar.  But of course, just like magic, Soulmates were un predictable.  In the Magical World, you couldn’t find or sense your soulmate until you tried 18, almost like a right of passage for those who were able to have one.  Although some witches and wizards thought of it as taboo, pureblood families saw it as destructive since soulmates who be also half bloods or muggle borns.  Either way, they existed and they were always random.  Of course, the last person you never thought would be your soulmate would be the ambitious and Quidditch loving Oliver Wood.

Neither did he, so it was a surprise for both of you.  

Yet neither of you rejected the notion either. You could reject a soulmate, though it would be painful for bth parties and the side effects could be fatal.  it’s only happened a handful of times in Wizarding History, but most of the time soulmates would accept the bond that would form.  One of the main side effects of accepting the bond was feeling an intense sensation of emotion from the other soulmate, which resulted in a tugging section in the lower stomach.  It felt like a rope was tied around your waist to tug you towards the other, a surreal feeling that you could never guessed to no matter how many years you had with Oliver.  

You would feel his intense euphoria from watching a Quidditch match and being placed on the reserve team with Puddlemore United, the sadness and grief when he lost his father two summers ago right after you two got together, and the deep love he had for you when you two would kiss for be together in bed.  

“Oli?” You called out, sitting up and rubbing your eyes with your fingers to wake yourself up a bit more.  He didn’t respond, but you heard some shuffling around out in the living room of your little apartment you two had together.  As you got out of bed and pushed your hair from your eyes, you noticed the gentle rainfall that was coming through the town and hitting your windowsill, making you grab one of your cardigan sweaters from the closet to throw up before you walked out of the bedroom.  

Yet when you opened the door, you were at a lost of words.

Your cramped living room was covered in enchanted candles that were both floating mid air and sitting on the table surfaces. The lights were dimmed, even with the rain and the gray clouds outside the window, and a small tray of a breakfast was made and sitting on the coffee table.  A fresh vase of blooming roses were in the vase, glistening in magic as you were looking at the loin and enchanting scene around you.  

“ ‘Ello, luv,” You looked over to your left, seeing Oliver standing there with a big grin on his face and his hands fiddling in front of him.  You felt that tug again, a wave of excitement and over from him a you smiled fro your spot.

“Hello, Oliver,” You replied, then gesturing to the scene he made in front of you, “I feel like I’m missing something here, that or I am underdressed,”

“You’re prefect,” he replied, having you roll your eyes as he reached out to take your hand in his, “I….I wanted to do somethin’ for ya since we’ve been together for some time,”

“I thought we talked about this,” You reasoned, though he was wrapping his arms around you and making you feel love and warmth from him holding you close with your arms around your neck, “We don’t need to do anything big and fancy to show we love each other.  Especially you, I love you far too much to have you indulge in me,”

“I consider this a different kind of indulgence,” He explained to you, having you cock your head as him as one of his hands moved from holding you to reach into his pocket for something.  You were about to question him in what he had in mind, beyond curious in what was in his head, when he placed something in your hand gently.  It was soft, right tin the middle of the palm of your hand.  You looked down, your eyes going big and your breath was lost in your throat.

A ring box.

“I know ya don’t like anything big or extravagant, just like when we were kids at Hogwarts and that one bloke gave ya enchanted flowers on Valentines Day,” Oliver explained, you giggled but were about to cry as Oliver kept talking, “And I know you’re far too kind to accepting anything less than a chocolate frog from me.  But You’ve made my whole life so much better, even when we were friends and before we were soulmates.  I’ve learned to be a better person because of ya, and to think you can put up with my Quidditch playin’ and cockiness too.”

“Such a Gryffindor,” You snorted, trying to hide the tears that were trying to come out as Oliver laughed.  He reached down to open the ring box, showing a small yet beautiful engagement ring that was nestled between the two pillows in the box.  Not a massive ring, not at all, but it was perfect and something Oliver would pick for you.

“Everything we went through together since we bonded has been a blessin’ to me.  Fightin’ together at Hogwarts, movin’ in together, dealin’ with the losses that we both had, I wouldn’t trade any of it for all the money in the world.  And it’s because of you, you held me close through all those times and never let me go.  So I wanna ask ya, and I do hope you say what I wanna hear, would ya marry me?”

“Oliver Wood,” You gasped, leaning up to kiss him softly and with emotion there in the middle of your living room.  All the words he said were tugging at your heart so fast and so strong it made you feel dizzy and yet weightless at the same time.  Oliver was never one to be truly in tune with his emotions, but he never was afraid to tell you how he felt and how he loved you.  You knew down the road you two would marry, you’ve talked about it a few times in be together or over coffee.  There was no question you were going to get married, but it was still a surreal moment to feel it in that moment.  

“If I could fall in love with you anymore, then I would,” You said to him as he just grinned widely at you, almost looking like his cocky self.

“Is that a yes then?” Oliver asked with his smirk, making you nod your head as he slipped the ring on your finger smoothly and with a hint fo tremble on his own fingertips, “You could have asked me to marry you in the middle of the rain at the quidditch field for all I cared, I would have said yes,”

“Funny to mention that,” Oliver said in a snort, “That was going to be my Plan B,”

You both broke out in laughter and in grins, kissing all over again as you kissed with the candles light flicking off your ring. 

The End.

Tagged: @a-lumos-in-the-nox

Soulmate Prompt Session

#oliver wood x female reader #oliver wood prompts #oliver wood fanfiction #oliver wood x reader #oliver wood x y/n #oliver wood x you #harry potter writing #harry potter fanfiction #harry potter fandom #harry potter #hp fic #hp fanfic

[starythewriter]

KINKMAS DAY 20 Oliver Queen and his pent house

SMUT MINORS DNI.

WATTPAD

you and Oliver kissed having a romantic night together in his pent house.

the first night you've ever been here to be honest. you're nervous about being alone with him so when he suggested getting dinner instead of going straight home, you jumped at the chance to stay out until the sun set. it' s not like he was trying to keep you up or anything, but you were used to being by yourself. you didn't want to make things awkward between the two of you.he's just being thoughtful."So," he asks as he puts his hand on the small of your back guiding you to sit next to him, "What kind of place do you usually go for dinner?"you don't answer but take a deep breath before answering truthfully, "The place I like best is a little bistro down the street.""Well then, I'm sure we'll find something that suits our tastes." Oliver takes one of your hands into his own. you can't help feeling a fluttery sensation in your chest when he places a gentle kiss against the back of your hand and turns his face towards yours. he leans forward resting his head on your shoulder before pulling you closer into him and wrapping an arm around your back leaning your heads together resting against each other's foreheads.it was peaceful like this, just being close to him. it made you happy to be able to spend time with him like this without worrying what anyone would think. you could tell by how relaxed he was too that the thought of you liking him more than just friends didn't even occur to him.he knew you wouldn't want to jeopardize your friendship because of something silly like this.you couldn't imagine your life without Oliver by your side.you didn't know what you'd do if you were left alone again.he was there for you all these years and you never really had someone else to rely on. Oliver helped keep you alive in those dark days that seemed to last forever. You didn't realize how much you missed him until now. you wanted this moment to last just a little bit longer until they closed the doors for business tomorrow evening. the restaurant wasn't open very long yet and there was still plenty of time for you guys to enjoy some food and then go home. you were pretty sure Oliver wouldn't mind spending some more time alone with you. you were both a little bit tipsy, after all. you felt like you were floating, as if everything was perfectly normal despite the fact that the lights were dimmed low and there were no music playing and you were practically lying on top of Oliver as the two of you enjoyed each other's company.

you loved his pent house but even more so, Oliver, you loved Oliver.

“your so hot Oliver”

you gave eachother a kiss, slowly gettin heated, you both took off eachothers clothe. you didn't care.you wanted to feel him, to have Oliver and only Oliver. you pushed Oliver onto the couch, straddling him and started kissing his neck as Oliver's hands roamed up under your shirt. he ran his hands up from your waist slowly making circles, causing goosebumps to rise up all over your body. you shivered as his hands reached up to stroke your breasts. his touch was so warm that you felt completely safe and at ease underneath him. you let go of Oliver as his hands roamed your thighs. he slipped his hand inside your pants making you moan as he pulled out the button on your jeans and slipped his finger inside.you grabbed his hair pulling it gently making him groan as he pushed his fingers inside of you causing your eyes to roll back slightly. you started thrusting your hips upwards trying to meet his every thrust. Oliver grabbed onto your ass, encouraging you to move faster making you grind harder into him.

he went faster as you were both closer and closer your climax.

you moaned loudly as you both came together.

THE END

#send in concepts #smut #smutty #oliver queen x you #oliver queen x reader #oliver queen #Oliver Queen c

[wonderlandleighleigh]

Midge/Lenny- secretly watching each others sets after Carnegie, until one of them notices and now they have to talk because this is getting dumb

He fucks up and she spots him at the bar as she's coming down from the stage, and the world slows down.

When he turns, they make eye contact immediately.

They've been doing this dance for a month and a half, and it's Valentine's Day and there's no hiding from this when he's right there and she's right here.

He nods her over, and she finds herself floating toward him as he orders up her drink (her usual - gin martini up with olives, like he could ever fucking forget). It's too cold to go outside to talk this out, so they silently find a booth near the back. Relatively quiet all things considered. She'd nearly packed the house tonight.

"Hi," she says softly.

"Hello," he responds, sliding her drink toward her. "Good set."

"Thank you."

"Glad to see you in the regular places again," he says quietly.

Midge takes a breath without looking at him. She could start a fight here. She could snap at him and say that she didn't do it for him. That he was an asshole. That leaving her on that stage broke her heart, but the simple truth of the matter is that he was right.

Mostly right, at least.

"Feels good to be back," she says instead, sipping her drink.

"Good," he says simply, sipping his drink.

She watches him. Really looks at him, up close and personal. Not from the back of the clubs he's been gigging in. Not from her TV screen. Really looks at him. And he looks...

Tired.

And too thin.

"Lenny." She reaches out to place her hand on top of his and he jerks it back, and is on his feet in seconds.

"I gotta go," he tells her.

He doesn't even grab his trench coat before heading for the door and Midge takes an annoyed breath, snatches it up and storms off after him into the cold. Her own coat is still at the club, and she doesn't care that it's cold as hell out here.

"Lenny!"

"I gotta go!"

"Jesus - you forgot your fucking coat, and it's freezing! Do you wanna die out here?!"

That gets him to stop, and she holds the trench coat out to his back for a long moment. He finally turns around and slowly steps back over to her, taking the coat, but he doesn't put it on. He just wraps it around her shoulders, tugging it a little more securely to protect her against the wind that's blowing her hair around a little.

"It's gotten bad," she says gently.

He nods but doesn't look her in the face. "Yeah. It's uh...it's been pretty bad."

Midge reaches up then, cupping his face carefully, stroking his jaw with a thumb. "Come back inside. Finish your drink. And we'll talk about it."

It takes him a moment to nod again, but he does eventually, and lets her take him by the hand, leading him back in out of the cold.

#fic #au #angst #tmmm #Midge/Lenny #Midge x Lenny

[tomtenadia]

Do you write elorcan? If so could you do sneaking glances for the otp list?

I never wrote an Elorcan, but I usually have them as a couple in my pics. I love them together.

I managed to write something. It's not my best job and I wanted it to be funny and I managed at least a bit.

Games of stares

Lorcan was a man who loved peace and quiet and mingling only with his very carefully selected circle of friends.

Big parties? Not his thing. Definitely not the ones he had to attend because as chief of cardiology it was his duty, especially on a day when some big donor had flushed the ward with money and they had managed to open a new wing with some specialised equipment. He was supposed to play host and be nice to people.

The room they had chosen was slowly filling up as all the guests started to flow in. A woman walked to him and started telling him about the boring menu that the caterer had planned. It was far too pretentious. He was craving a cold beer and burger but for that night he had to be happy with canapés and pastry puffs with all sorts of ingredients. Bored, he nodded and excused himself, pretending to stock up with more food.

Eventually his friends showed up and he walked to them like a desperate them.

“What took you so long?”

The silver-haired man huffed “Aelin had lost her purse, then had to pee, and we could not find a shoe.”

Lorcan rolled his eyes in annoyance.

“Lor, you do not argue with your seven months pregnant wife.”

“I was alone with all these people.” He whispered.

“Where are Fen, Vaughan, Con and Gav?”

He pointed to a random space “around, being social I assume.”

Rowan laughed “Stop moping, you are the chief. It’s your job.”

Lorcan growled “Traitor.”

“I am in ortho. This is your kingdom, Salvaterre.” He patted his friend on the shoulder and walked away.

Lorcan was wondering aimlessly around the ward with a glass of wine in his hands, when he saw a brunette woman standing against a wall, sipping wine and probably making small talk with a few other people. From his vantage point he looked at her thinking that she was lovely, definitely his type. She was wearing a beautiful black dress, with a cut that very modestly revealed part of her leg. Her hair was tied up nicely in an intricate style that left her neck and collarbone exposed. She really was stunning.

Her gaze almost met his and he looked away.

*

Elide was bored. 

She was a nurse in the cardiology department and had been invited too to the shindig. 

A waiter with a tray walked past and she grabbed a flute filled with wine. At least there was booze.

On her way back from the catering table she spotted a tall man. The chief of the department. He was impossible to miss. The man was almost two metres tall. With dark long hair and a scowl so powerful that even the walls would take offence. Her mind started wondering in dangerous places so she stopped herself. It was a work event, she had to behave yourself.

Elide grabbed a martini with an olive and then eat the fruit in a very sensual way, always never averting the gaze from the tall brooding man. But when he turned and his gaze met hers she turned her head quickly and walked away.

*

Lorcan had noticed the woman staring at him. In probably an attempt to seduce him she had started teasing him with an olive on a toothpick. Gods, his brain was ready to short.

She had tried to be sneaky but while he was talking to Gavriel he had spotted her in that little game and now could not away anymore.

“Planet Earth call Lorcan.”

“Hm?”

Gavriel looked around and tried to find the source of his friend’s attention.

“You are the chief, you are supposed to mingle.”

Lorcan groaned “You too? Did Whitethorn put you up to this?”

Gavriel grabbed a drink from the waiter floating around “Be nice, Salvaterre.” His friend left and he realised he had lost contact with the beautiful woman. 

He walked around the room while people stopped him every few minutes, until he spotted her. She was talking to Dorian, a young promising doctor in the ER.

Maybe as a provocation, she flipped her hair and this time she shamelessly looked at him and smiled.

He leaned against the wall and decided that looking at that woman was a far better past time.

*

Elide had decided to stop being sneaky. The man was clearly looking at her so from across the room she kept her gaze on him. Maybe she could manage to steal a smile from him. She knew the chief even if she was a new nurse who had just recently transferred to that department. The man had a reputation for being cold.

A woman approached him and his gaze drifted away from her.

A deep sense of jealousy surged in her.

With a sure pace she marched to him, stopped in front of the chief with crossed arms after the other woman was gone “So that’s it? Another woman comes and talk to you and forget about me?”

Lorcan looked at her puzzled.

“You stopped the game.”

“It was just for a moment.”

Elide pouted “You don’t find me attractive anymore.”

His hand took hers “Elide, when you started playing with that olive it did crazy thing to my poor male brain.”

“Hm.”

“El?”

She leaned against him “I was hoping my gaze would entice you to a quickie in the closet, you know? With a stranger?”

He chuckled “Except you are my wife.”

“Spoilsport.” She was about to walk away but he grabbed her wrist “Fine, I can keep playing. Go in a corner and stare at me.”

Elide kissed him gently on his lips and walked away.

Their little game went on for another half an hour. They ignored the world and the party around them until Elide tilted her head and Lorcan knew.

He excused himself and disappeared

It had a been a silly game of sneaky glances but even after three years of marriage he could spend the whole day staring at Elide.

#elorcan #elide #lorcan x elide #lorcan salvaterre

[harrysweasleys]

victory in more ways than one // f.w

summary: fred feeling slightly jealous after you’ve congratulated oliver wood on a well-played match

warnings: none

word count: 2k

a/n: this was so fun to write! i’ve missed freddie and this was very self-indulgent :) 

Blimey, you couldn’t recall the last time it had snowed this heavily.

You could barely see five feet in front of you as the snow came down in sheets, the tiny little floating dots that were quidditch players nearly invisible at this point.

The blanket you had brought was wrapped around your body, the final layer on top of sweaters, hoodies, and a jacket. And of course, your scarlet Gryffindor scarf bundled warmly around your neck. You were so stiff you could barely move, but at least you were staying as warm as you could.

You had Hermione bundled near you, her fluffy hair covered in snowflakes and the tip of her nose bright red as she cheered on the house team in between muttering “I can’t wait for this to be over.”

As much as you adored the sport, you had to agree. Really, the only reason you hadn’t left — like many other fellow Gryffindors — was because the match was against Slytherin and you just knew how much it meant to Fred.

He had been going on about this match for weeks, he had.

You let out a cheer as he flew by, red hair standing out amongst the white view. He told you he loved playing in the snow, that the brisk weather and wild flurries only increased the intensity. But, of course, that was because he was out flying around instead of standing still with his toes about to freeze right off.

Catch the snitch, Harry, catch the bloody snitch…

You spotted the Seeker, hand reached out as he chased the golden ball, which you were surprised he could even see in this weather, and wished more than anything that he’d just reach out and grab it—

“Harry Potter has caught the Snitch!”

You weren’t sure if the cheering was because Gryffindor had won or because you could all finally get back inside to the common room, where the fire would be crackling warmly and the snow would be hitting the window instead of your skin.

You watched as the Gryffindor team gathered at centre field, high-fiving one another and celebrating amongst the cheers, soaking in the look of devastating defeat on the Slytherin team’s faces. Harry held the Snitch in the air, the tiny dot not even visible to anyone in the stands.

“I’ll stay back and see Harry,” Hermione shouted to you over the cheers, eyes squinting as she faced the direction of the wind.

“Right, you do that, I’ll meet you back in the warmth,” you grinned with frozen cheeks, joining the crowd who was rushing to get out of there as quickly as possible. 

And Merlin, you truly couldn’t make it back inside fast enough.

As expected, the couch near the fireplace was crowded with people huddling close, warming their hands and feet as soon as they stepped inside the room. You, on the other hand, had charged up to your room to change out of your damp clothes, throw on one of Fred’s sweaters, a pair of thick fuzzy socks, and stand next to the heater.

The Quidditch team would only arrive later, needing to unwind and go through their strategies before coming back. You wished Fred was here, though, so you could toss your arms around him and hold him close, simultaneously using his warmth for your own benefit.

After changing, you trodded down to the main area of the common room, a few fellow students already lounging around talking about the match. You found Neville and Seamus in the corner, choosing to go over and sit with them for a little while. Hermione and Ron had chosen to wait for Harry at the Quidditch pitch — truly brave of them in this weather.

“And when Wood made that save, blood brilliant! The upside down one, you know the one I’m talking about,” Seamus clapped his hands, the red and golden paint smeared across his face starting to lose colour. You guessed it was from being bundled up so warmly.

Neville has similar paint on his skin, red and gold stripes on his forehead staining the dark strands of hair that stuck to his forehead. You loved that about this place; the school spirit. Everyone had so much love for their houses and if anything, made everything just so much more fun and competitive.

You nodded as you took a seat, “Always great, he is.” And it was true, Oliver Wood was one of the best Quidditch players you had seen in years. You felt awfully blessed he was on your house team, or else you’d absolutely hate playing against him.

“I’m hoping you’re talking about me,” you felt a pair of warm hands on your shoulders, giving a small squeeze as you leaned back into the familiar touch of your boyfriend.

“Mhm,” you turned to face him as he sat on the empty seat between you and Neville, his hair standing up on end and his jersey still on, “If your name is Oliver Wood, that is.”

“Great match, Fred,” Neville gave him a pat on the shoulder, “We know we can always count on you and George.”

Fred beamed, giving the brunet a grin and a small, dramatic bow, “Why, thank you very much,” and then he turned to face you, “See, some people appreciate my Merlin-given talent for the extremely brutal, difficult game of Quidditch. I go out on the pitch and risk my little life just to come back and see my girlfriend’s rooting for another man. Heartbreaking.” He placed his hand over his heart and leaned his head back, eyes closed.

You let out a laugh, reaching forwards and placing your hand on his thigh, giving it a squeeze, “Oh, shut it, you. You’re so dramatic. Of course I think you’re the best player on the team. Bar Wood,” you let out the final quip, watching the way he rolled his eyes playfully and placed his hand atop yours.

He scoffed, “The disrespect.”

A chuckle left your lips as he turned his head away from you, facing the two other Gryffindor at your table, “Well, Longbottom, Finnigan, I hope you two enjoyed the match.”

Seamus nodded, falling into a detailed breakdown of a few standout plays. You linked your fingers with Fred’s as the two of you listened in. Of course he knew how proud of him you were — you honestly never shut up about him. He was everything to you and Godric, did you ever feel lucky. And he knew that through your teasing and joking that you only had eyes for him — how could you ever have eyes for anyone else? That would be foolish of you.

A loud cheer broke out through the room and drowned out Seamus’ voice as the rest of the Gryffindor team made their way into the common room, all looking exhausted yet full of energy.

Athletes could be strange sometimes.

“Go, go, Gryffindor!” the chant broke out once more and caused you to join in, Fred giving you a quick peck on the cheek as he went to go join his fellow teammates.

You stood up, clapping along with everyone in the room as the team continued piling in.

People greeted each other, hugging and clapping hands while the team made their way around the room. You leaned against the wall, watching Fred make his way through the room, high-fiving a few first years along with his brother. 

Within minutes, the common room was bustling. Hermione and Ron had returned, pink cheeked and frozen, Harry beaming by their side as people rushed to congratulate him. You did the same, telling him he played brilliantly and that you never doubted him. 

Katie Bell had pulled you aside to brag about her moves — a few of which you didn’t even remember, probably too busy freezing your butt off to have paid attention. She then buggered off to find another group of girls who were quick to pull her into a hug and tell her she did amazingly.

So, you made your way back to the corner which you had been in just a few minutes ago, eyes still focused on Fred, who was beaming with joy, smile impossibly wide. You nearly made your way over to him before you were cut short.

“Oli, we were just talking about your save!” Seamus’ voice cut through the crowd, causing you to turn and face him. He was giving Oliver Wood a pat on the back as the Keeper made his way forwards. You hadn’t seen Oliver yet so you figured you’d go over and say congrats as well.

Oliver beamed, “Thanks, that was probably one of the highlights of my time as a Quidditch player. One of those ‘I’m going to relive that in my dreams’ moments.”

You leaned forwards, “You were great, as always.”

Oliver spotted you and gave you a grin, leaning forwards to give you a hug, which you gladly reciprocated. He was a little smelly, having probably not showered yet, but that was fine. You were used to it with Fred anyways.

“Congrats on the win,” you spoke after the two of you pulled apart, “I know that was a big one.”

“Yeah it—,”

“Oi, Wood!”

Angelina’s voice from near the common room entrance caught his attention and he lifted a finger in your direction, giving you a small sheepish grin before going off to see what she wanted.

You turned around, noticing that Seamus and Neville were now also gone, leaving you standing in the corner of the room by yourself. Your eyes scanned the room for Fred, hoping you could go talk to him, but you couldn’t find him anywhere. Where had that bloody tall bloke run off to?

“Looking for me?” his voice came from next to you — where did he come from? — and you spun on the spot to face him.

You nodded, linking your arms around his waist, “I was, actually.”

He hummed, pursing his lips and nodding his head, “Ah, here I was thinking you were looking for your boyfriend.”

You rolled your eyes, “Oh, cut it off, you.”

“He got a hug before I did!” Fred waved his arms with a small pout, “Which is not fair.”

His eyebrows were furrowed as he looked at you, pink lips drawn in a pout, which was rather adorable. He really was so dang cute.

“Aw, are you jealous?” you leaned up and pressed a small kiss on the bottom of his chin, squeezing your arms a little tighter around him. He seemed to appreciate the gesture, leaning into your touch.

“No need to be jealous, you know you’re the only person that really matters to me,” you leaned up, pressing light kisses along his jawline. His hands found your hips quickly, giving a small squeeze as his hands made their way under your — or his — sweater.

His touch was awfully warm and comforting, a small sigh escaping him as your lips met the spot between his jaw and his neck. He shivered under your touch, which was exactly the reaction you were going for.

“Next time, I better get the victory hug first,” he spoke softly, thumbs rubbing light circled on the skin of your waist.

“Promise,” you leaned your head against his shoulder, wrapping your arms around him for a proper hug, “I am tremendously proud of you, y’know?”

He nodded, his own head leaning against yours, “Yeah, I know. I do like to hear it, though.” You could hear the grin in his voice — that cheeky teasing tone of his that you couldn’t get enough of.

He really was something else.

taglist

@grierpilots @hxfflxpxffs @mikumana @msmimimerton @pit-and-the-pen @diary-of-an-onliner @thoseofgreatambition @theweasleysredhair @haphazardhufflepuff @awritingtree @thisismysketchbook @hufflrpuffforfred @phuvioqhile @marvelettesassemble​ @breadqueen95 @hahee154hq @inglourious-imagines @amourtentiaa @spacexcowgirl @lumos-barnes @bolaurel @youcantbesirius @lostaurorax @justreadingficsdontmindme @youmatteralways @nonsensicallynarnian @d22malfoy @eshbadesh​ @almostweepingbanana @ickle-ronniekins @iprobablyshipit91 @wand3ringr0s3 @susceptible-but-siriusexual @amhyeah @a-castle-of--glass @freddie1978 @lumosandnoxwriting @rosaliepostsstuff @darthwheezely @parseltongueswriting @pandaxnienke @esmeralda-a @freds-slut @slytherinlovesgryffindor @justasmolballofstress @euphorictraveler @heyyitsreign @the-gryffinpuff

#fred weasley fic #fred weasley imagine #fred weasley imagines #fred weasley one shot #fred weasley one shots #fred weasley x reader #fred weasley reader insert

[avintagekiss24]

CALIFORNIA KING || CHUBBY!BUCKY BARNES

pairing: Chubby!Sheriff!Bucky Barnes x black!reader || word count: 6,429 || warnings: smut, sex, vaginal fingering, hand job, bad language words

authors note: here we are! chubs is finally here! we’re set back in Virginia in the 60s in this one, but we’re not acknowledging the bullshit of the time period. i write to get away from real world issues, and i like the clothes in this decade. you will also notice a few characters from a certain show called Lovecraft Country, because, well, I like them a lot too. please enjoy.

line divider by, you guessed it, @firefly-graphics​ (they’re all so pretty)

Virginia, 1964

Your heels click along the pavement as you move towards the small diner in the middle of town. The sun is high and hot, the beams beating down on your bare shoulders as you adjust your yellow rimmed sunglasses over your face. Your white purse swings off the tips of your fingers, your bracelet, a present from Bucky, clinking softly against your watch, (another present from Bucky), as you move with confidence.

Your sister Ruby moves quietly behind you, her eyes out in front, scanning the sidewalk and street as the two of you go, “You shouldn’t come out dressed like that.” She huffs in your direction as she catches the eye of two older white women moving in your direction.

You turn your head towards her and then glance at the women walking past you, their eyes dropping down to your slightly exposed midriff, then your high waisted, navy blue shorts. You push your sunglasses down your nose and maintain eye contact with them as the two women move by.

“I’m not worried about these small town hicks.” You answer loudly, turning around to walk backward so you can keep your eyes on them, “I am free to dress how I please, thank you.”

Ruby shakes her head as she laughs sarcastically, “You never did know how to act.”

“It is 1964. They just need to get the fuck over it - we are here. This is just as much our town as it is theirs.” You spit, tossing your short hair slightly, “Plus, not everybody here is like them.”

Ruby closes her eyes and holds up her hands, completely uninterested in what you’re about to say, “You are playing with fire with that sheriff,” she hisses quietly, “And I don’t want to hear about it.”

You shrug defiantly, “Fine, then don’t. Let’s just get our rootbeer floats and not argue for once, okay?”

“Okay.”

“Fine.”

“Perfect.”

“Wonderful.” You seethe, flicking your wrist towards her, ending the quick squabble. You grab the door handle and pull open the door to the diner, stepping to the side to allow your sister to pass, “After you.”

Ruby cuts her eyes towards you and smirks unenthusiastically before she crosses through the threshold. You roll your eyes and follow in behind her, removing your sunglasses and shoving them in your purse as you follow her to the front counter. The two of you sit side by side, Ruby smoothing her hands over her green, pleated swing dress, you waving down the young waiter.

“Afternoon ladies, it’s a hot one, huh?” he asks nicely, smiling at the two of you as he slides menus in your direction.

“It is, thank you,” you start, glancing over the menu, “I think I’m going to have a burger and fries, with a rootbeer float.”

“Great choice, and you, Ruby?”

She smiles, handing her menu back to him, “An olive loaf sandwich please. Potato chips, and a rootbeer float as well.”

“I’ll have it right up ladies.”

He disappears into the back and you and Ruby fall into your usual rhythm, practically ignoring each other. The front door chimes as a group of women move inside, their giggles filling the relatively quiet diner. You eye them as they move by, catching the glance of one Dottie Bodecker, your arch nemesis since grade school. Her blonde hair swings back and forth behind her head as she smiles at you, wiggling her manicured fingers as her group moves to the end of the long bar, taking up four seats.

“So Dottie,” you hear one of the brunettes start, “Do you think tonight’s the night? You think Sheriff Barnes is going to ask you to go with him to his re-election fundraiser?”

You flick your eyes towards them, drawing in a deep breath at the sound of his name. Dottie turns her head towards you, her blue eyes linking with yours where she smiles quickly before turning back to her friends, “I think so.” She answers cheerfully, another giggle escaping her lips, “We have been getting so close lately. I really think he’s gonna ask me to start going steady.”

You scoff loudly before laughter falls from your lips. Ruby hits your leg underneath the counter as you pull out a cigarette and place it between your lips, lighting it. You feel their eyes on you as you flick the butt of the cigarette, ridding it of the ash that’s built up and take another slow drag. You keep your eyes forward, not wanting to engage because you know if you engage -

“Here we go ladies,” the waiter says, cutting through your thoughts, “A burger and fries, an olive loaf with potato chips, and two rootbeer floats. Enjoy.”

Heat blooms across your skin as anger starts to brim just below the surface. You and Dottie have had the same common goal for almost six months - Sheriff James Buchanan “Bucky” Barnes. The anger in you makes you start to wonder why the two of you are warring over him in the first place. He’s ten years older than the both of you, has a nasty divorce behind him, and by the sight of his tummy, he’s enjoyed one too many slices of Ambrosia cake. To you and Dottie though, he might as well be Marlon Brando.

It’s the way his eyes crinkle at the sides when he smiles. The way his nose scrunches when he smiles really big. It’s the softness in his voice when he says your name. The shyness that controls him whenever he’s come to bring you a flower. It’s the way he’s a dreamer - how he promises you a little house out in the middle of nowhere, complete with a white picket fence and a golden retriever. A couple of kids. A big old bed where he promises to always keep you pleased.

He’s the most beautiful man you’ve ever seen - the softest and the sweetest too.

“Just relax and eat your food.” Ruby whispers, squeezing your knee, “She’s just trying to get your goat.”

You flick the butt of your cigarette again, “Well, she fucking got it.” You sigh, grabbing a french fry and biting it angrily.

Dottie continues to gab to her friends loudly, Bucky and I this, Bucky and I that - deep down you know it’s bullshit. He spends too much time sniffing around you to give her the type of attention she’s trying to convince her friends of, but it still gets under your skin. You eat slowly, your lips pursed, your eyes staring a hole into the wall in front of you, your hearing absolutely piqued.

“Did I tell you he drove me home from work the other day?” Dottie says, running her hand over her ponytail as her lips curl into another smile behind her red painted lips, “He even stayed for dinner.”

“Well, your meatloaf is to die for, Dottie. He would have been crazy not to stay!”

You cut your eyes over towards them again just as Dottie leans into her friends, glancing around to see if anyone is listening (as if she honestly cares), “Did I also mention that he stayed the night?”

You slam your balled fist onto the counter, rattling the plates and cups and silverware that sit on the bar. All four heads of Dottie’s group snap towards you, Ruby’s eyes going wide as her mouth drops open.

“Is everything okay, hun?” Dottie asks sweetly, venom dripping from every word.

You lift your hand and plaster a fake smile on your face, scrunching your nose as you shrug, “I’m quite alright, Dottie. Just um, dropped my fork is all.”

“Oh,” she laughs a little, placing her gloved hand to her chest, “That must be a heavy fork.”

“Not as heavy as my fist will be against your -”

“We’re fine,” Ruby cuts in, a bright smile on her face as she nods towards Dottie, “Thank you for askin’, Dottie.”

Dottie smiles again as she tips her head towards Ruby, “You are very welcome, Miss Ruby.”

“Fake ass bitch.” You growl under your breath, prompting a hard pinch on your thigh,”Ow!”

“Just,” Ruby starts, widening her eyes at you, “Eat. Your. Food.”

You take another angry bite of your french fry and cut your eyes towards the glass door, staring out onto the street as you flick your cigarette again. Sheriff James Buchanan Barnes has no idea what he’s just gotten himself into.

-----

You sway your hips back and forth as your hair falls into your face. The music is loud, thumping even, as Ruby and her band plays up on the stage. An arm is thrown around your waist, pulling your closer as the two of you dance - chest to back, hips tucked into your behind. You laugh as you throw your arm around his neck and dip down low, a wider smile breaking onto your face as he moves with you.

The two of you push back up where you spin around to face him, grabbing the hem of your dress and pulling it up on your thighs as you continue to shake your hips. You throw the material of your expensive, new dress, and then swish it around, before you drop it to raise your hands in the air and spin back around.

That’s when you see them.

Those eyes.

Those deep set, deep blue orbs that always seem to find you when in the middle of a crowd. His lips are set in a hard line, his cheeks red, his jaw tight. He sucks his teeth as he leans his elbow on the bar. He blinks, slowly, cutting his eyes towards the bartender just long enough to grab the shot that’s handed to him before they are back on you, watching you grind against the stranger behind you.

Too damn bad for him.

You grab the man’s hand and pull it tighter around your waist, keeping your smaller hand on top of his as you dip slowly down to the floor again - your eyes never leaving the sheriff’s. You break the eye contact with him to glance over your shoulder as a devilish smile curls onto your painted lips as the two of you dance, your lips dangerously close to his. You push your behind into his hips and laugh when the man hoots and hollers before clapping his hands to the beat of the music.

You flick your eyes back to the sheriff’s just as he downs the brown liquid in the small glass in his hands and slams it on the counter, immediately asking for another. You smirk and wink at him before you turn in the man’s hands that are currently around your waist and away from the hard, angry eyes bearing into you.

“Boo!”

You spin to the side when a finger presses into your side and shriek when you come face to face with your little sister, “Leti!” You shout, wrapping your arms around her neck and swaying her back and forth, “I thought y’all said you wouldn’t be back from Chicago until next week! Tic! Come here!”

You release her to throw your arms around Leti’s boyfriend, Atticus Freeman’s neck, having to stand on your tiptoes to hug him tightly as he chuckles in your ear, “We just decided to cut it short, that’s all.” He answers.

“Yeah, right,” you smile, slapping him gently on his shoulder, “You two got into some trouble up there, didn’t you?”

“Never!” Leti exclaims as she smiles mischievously, holding up her hand, “And that’s scouts honor. Listen,” she says, glancing over her shoulder back towards the bar, “I’ve heard from a few people already. They’re saying that the sheriff is asking about you at the bar.”

“Well,” You wave her off, “You can tell them to tell him to mind his goddamn business.”

“Girl, you’ve got that man seething over there!” Tic laughs, “Askin’ how you know this fool,” he says, pointing towards your dancing partner, “What his name is, when he got into town, how long you been here tonight…”

You shrug defiantly, batting your eyes at the pair of people in front of you, “Not my problem.”

“You’ve got your nerve!” Leti laughs, “Who in their right mind antagonizes the goddamn sheriff?”

“The very same one who dates the goddamn sheriff.” Tic says, shaking his head, “Y’all’s mama gave y’all balls of steel.”

Leti rolls her eyes but smiles widely, grabbing your wrists and pulling you deeper into the mass of people. The three of you dance the hours away as Ruby keeps the small club rocking. You’re covered in a thin sheen of sweat, out of cigarettes, and slightly tipsy when Tic wants to get you and Leti home, so you relent without a fight.

You push out into the night air, the breeze instantly cooling your balmy skin. You giggle as Leti mumbles in your ear and take a few steps into the alley before you stop dead in your tracks. Sheriff Bucky leans against the brick building, his head turned towards the street but snapping back to you when he hears your familiar laughter. He pushes away from the wall and places his hands on his hips and utility belt where he taps his nervous, angry fingers.

He clears his throat and takes a deep breath, pushing it out of his nostrils harshly as he turns his head towards the building again, trying and failing to maintain a calm demeanor, “Tic, I wasn’t um, I wasn’t aware you were back in town. Welcome home, soldier.”

Tic shifts his eyes to you before he nods towards Bucky and takes his extended hand, “Thank you sheriff, that’s uh, that’s mighty kind of you.”

“You’re a brave man, fighting for this country. You let me know if anybody gives you any trouble, you hear? Ms. Lewis, how are you this evening?”

“Mighty fine, sheriff. Thanks for askin’.” Leti answers, offering him a soft smile. She knows what it’s like to be on the ass end of one of your fits.

You stare at him as he nods slowly, clearing his throat again before he shifts his eyes back to you. You cross your arms over your chest and tilt your head as you blink at him slowly and let out a hard breath. He drops his eyes down your body, then snaps them back up to yours, his lip slightly snarled the entire time.

He points at you quickly, before he drops his hand back to his belt and glances back at the building, “May I speak to you, please?” he asks, clearing his throat again.

“What for?”

He chuckles lightly, widening his eyes as he drops them to your feet, “You know what for.” he snaps, still tapping his fingers against his hips, “Please.”

You glance at Leti and Tic, whose eyes have settled on you after the quick tennis match between you and Bucky. You sigh again, “I’ll meet you guys at home, okay?”

“Are you sure?” Leti whispers, pushing up closer to you, “He looks mad.”

You roll your eyes, “I can handle him. I’ll be fine.”

Leti grabs Tic’s hand and moves past Bucky, “Have a good night, sheriff.”

“You as well, Ms. Lewis.” He glances over his shoulder as Tic and Leti move down the alley, and only turns back to face you once they’ve turned the corner, “You stood me up.” He spits angrily, pointing at you again.

You shrug, indifference written on your face, “I don’t know what you mean.”

“You know exactly what I mean!” he hisses, taking a few steps towards you, “Damn it, I waited forty five minutes for you.”

“You get out of my face.” you scoff, pushing his shoulders roughly.

“So I spend all day worrying about you, only to find you here with some jerk’s hands all over you!”

You laugh, rolling your eyes, “Spent all day worrying about me, did you? That’s rich.”

“Okay,” he barks, nodding quickly as he chews on the inside of his cheek, “What is it? Huh? What did I do now?”

“Like you don’t know.”

“I don’t know! Please! Enlighten me.”

You cross your arms over your chest again, staring down the alley. You feel his eyes staring into the side of your face, waiting for you to speak.

“Answer me, damn it!”

“Why don’t you ask Dottie Bodecker what you did wrong?” you hiss, snapping your head back to face him.

His face contorts in confusion, his shoulders slumping slightly, “Dottie Bodecker? The fuck she have to do with anything?”

“Her meatloaf is to die for, isn’t it?”

He rolls his eyes and throws his hands up dramatically, turning and taking a few steps away from you. He spins back around seconds later, shaking his head, “If you don’t start saying what you mean, girl!”

“You slept with Dottie Bodecker a few nights back and I’m done letting you make a fool a’ me!” you scream as your eyes squint hard.

You brush past him, bumping his shoulder as you start down the alley, walking fast as you huff, the anger bubbling. You hear his heavy feet behind you, his keys jingling as he wraps his fingers around your bicep. You shrug away from him and whirl around, pointing your thin finger in his face, “Don’t you touch me.”

“I did not sleep with Dottie Bodecker!” He hisses, “Where are you getting that load of shit from?”

“From Dottie herself. She told the entire diner this afternoon!”

“Well she’s full of it!” He shouts back, “I didn’t touch that woman!”

“But you drove her home from work?” You ask, antagonizing him, raising your eyebrows and crossing your arms over your chest.

He scoffs, placing his hands on his hips again, “Yes. I drove her home. She flagged me down -” You start walking again, completely uninterested in hearing his sorry ass story, “Goddamn it. Listen to me!” He shouts, grabbing your arm again, “I did not touch that woman. I have never touched her. I promise you.”

“And why should I believe you? Huh?” You ask, breathing hard, your eyes wide and bouncing between his, “Tell me!”

“Because I love you!” He shouts loudly - so loudly that it makes you slam your mouth shut, “Goddamn it!”

You watch as he starts to pace, dragging his hand through his short, dark hair angrily before he drops it to his side. Because I love you! The words bounce around your brain as he places his hands back on his hips.

A hint of a smile tugs at the corners of your mouth.

That’s the first time he’s said it.

He loves you.

“You know what?” he says after a moment, turning back to face you again, “You want to continue to play games with Dottie, you go right ahead, but you leave me out of it. I have been nothing but good to you, nothing but open, nothing but doting… I’m done, you hear me? Done. Keep playin’ your little goddamn games!”

You click your tongue and roll your eyes again as he walks off, tugging at the leather jacket covering his torso. He can barely zip the damn thing. You sigh and tilt your head as he turns around the front of the building as embarrassment starts to flood through you. Your skin heats up again, but this time from the feeling of turning out to be the asshole, which doesn't happen very often (it probably should.)

The sound of your heels clicking against the concrete bounces off the buildings as you move to the end of the alley, peaking around the corner to find his police car still sitting at the curb. You spot his head resting back on the seat and put your hands behind your back as you walk slowly towards the passenger side. You lean over and glance in the window, finding his eyes closed and his hands on the wheel as he breathes in and out, in and out, in and out.

You glance up and down the street before you knock on the window, “Can I get in?”

“No.”

You click your tongue and let your shoulders slump, “Come on, sheriff.”

You watch as he exhales hard and you have to drop your head so that he can’t see the smile that forms on your lips. He reaches over and pops open the door before he straightens up in the seat, keeping his eyes forward as you slide in next to him. You chew on your lip as you blink over at him, your eyes trailing down his bicep and forearm before you start playing with your fingers.

“I’m sorry.” You say quietly, your voice small and slightly playful.

“I don’t want to hear it.” He answers quick, holding up his hand.

You laugh a little but cover your mouth quickly with your thin fingers as he cuts his eyes towards you. He huffs again and you start to whine, closing your eyes and tilting your head towards the roof, “Sheriff, look at me.”

“No.”

“Come on,” You laugh, “I said I was sorry.”

“And that’s just supposed to make this all better? Right? Just because you said you’re sorry?” he asks softly, turning to face you.

You shrug, dropping your eyes to your fingers again, “Yeah?”

He laughs earnestly at your sheer audacity. You smile, biting down into your bottom lip as you send your eyes toward him, your smile softening at the sight of him. The crinkles are back. His nose is scrunched, his eyes turned into slits as he laughs. You glance down between the two of you and see a bouquet of flowers on the floorboard.

His laughter dies down and he shakes his head as he lets out a sigh, “You are such a stubborn ass.”

“But that’s why you like me, right?”

He looks over at you, his eyes moving around your face, “Maybe.” He answers softly.

You grab his hand and place it in your lap, your thumb rubbing gently over his knuckles. You blink at each other, all of the anger and agitation bleeding out of you both like it wasn’t even there to begin with. He squeezes your hand and rubs the tips of your fingers with his thumb before he leans over to kiss you softly.

You moan, your eyes closing instinctively as his pillow soft lips hit yours for the first time that day. Relief and calm washes through you as he massages your lips with his and loops his arm around your waist, pulling you closer. You're soon pressed up against his wide chest and body, your hands sliding over his shoulders and to his back. You hug him tightly to you as the intensity builds quickly, his stomach pushing over his belt and pressing into yours. You hum as his thick fingers skip up your thigh, palming your flesh softly.

His lips fall to your neck, his head nudging yours upward to gain full access to your sensitive skin. He sucks lightly, making you tense and moan as a jolt of sensation shoots straight to your sex. You grip his shoulder softly as that wandering hand moves further up your thigh - right into your dress, where his fingertips brush against your warm, tingly sex.

“Sheriff,” You breathe, spreading your legs and pushing your hips forward as you rub his shoulder.

“Yes ma’am?” He answers, his voice low and heady.

“Take me home and take advantage of me, please.”

His chuckle vibrates through your flesh. He nips at your neck, his teeth dragging along your skin, “As much as I’d love to darlin’, I’m on duty.” You groan in dissatisfaction, making him laugh again, “You shouldn’t have blown me off earlier, I could have taken care of you then.”

He pushes your panties to the side and brushes his fingers over your soft skin, where you shiver instantly. He pulls back so that he can watch your face as he pushes between your folds, stroking your slit gently, teasing you with just the tips of his fingers. You hiss and squeeze your legs together, jutting your hips forward to try and coax him inside.

He doesn’t take the bait.

But he wants to.

He glances over his shoulder behind the car and then out in front, finding the streets bare. He can hear the muffled sounds of Ruby’s band still going strong inside the small club. There’s been no calls over the radio in over an hour. He’s got time. He kisses your mouth quickly and pulls his hand from out of your dress to turn the key, bringing the loud engine to life, filling the silent night air with noise.

You push up onto your knees as he pulls away from the curb and throw your arms around his neck, your tongue sneaking out to lick just under his ear. You smile when you feel him shiver from the contact. You plant kisses on the side of his face and along his jaw before you blow softly into his ear, making him jump in his seat. You grab his earlobe with your teeth and pull softly as you drag your hand down his chest and over his soft stomach where you start to fumble with his belt.

The car speeds up suddenly as he jams his foot on the accelerator when your hand slithers into his pants. You laugh when expletives fall from his lips, the car swerving as he struggles to keep his eyes open and on the road in front of you. Pumping him slowly, you grab your bottom lip between your teeth again and rest your forehead against his temple. You breathe heavily into his ear, humming and moaning as you stroke him quickly, your thumb brushing over his sensitive tip.

Bucky weaves you through the empty town and finally pulls up behind the police station, blending in with the small fleet of exactly two other police cars. He loops his arm around your waist again, pulling you closer - sitting you down on the seat. He grabs your calves and throws them over his thighs and rucks your dress up around your waist. He slips his fingers underneath the band of your panties and pulls roughly, slipping them right down your legs and over your heels to throw them into the backseat.

You squeak when his thick digits push into you, his thumb flattening against your clit. He starts to pump, slow and deep, his blue eyes scanning your face as he drags in air through his open mouth. You roll your hips into his hand as he strokes your walls and teases your clit, you hooking your arm around his neck. You sit up straighter and push your chest into his side, keeping one leg thrown over his thigh, and placing the other on the floorboard - leaving you spread open.

He kisses you quickly, moaning and then hissing as your hand continues to push along his shaft. He brushes his nose against yours, his warm breath washing over your face as you nuzzle right back into him, your mouth falling open as he curls his fingers inside of you.

“God, sheriff,” You rasp, your hand halting as he strokes your insides.

“What was that, darlin’?” He whispers, his words full but languid, “What’s my name, sweetheart?”

You tense, pushing your body up the back of the seat as you squeak again, his fingers pushing deeper and harder. You buck your hips into his hand, throwing your head back, your hair tickling the exposed skin of your back, “Oh, sheriff.” you pant.

“That’s right, you sweet little thing,” He coos, “You fuck my fingers, sweetheart.”

You hum before licking your lips slowly, “I want more than your fingers, sheriff,” you say, your words rushed and hot. You lean forward and kiss him hard, placing your hands on either side of his full face, brushing your thumbs over his cheeks.

You pull away after only a few seconds, dragging in ragged breaths, your chest heaving hard. Reaching behind your back, you pull on the zipper of your dress, the material falling away from your body - leaving you naked.

Bucky inhales sharply.

You lay back on the seat, wrapping your legs around his waist as he twists and leans over you. He reaches out and places his hand in the center of your chest, right between your breasts and just leaves it there for a second as he blinks. You arch your back, rolling your shoulders and head when he sweeps his fingers down your sternum, stopping at your belly button. You grab his hand and bring it to your right breast, cupping your supple flesh as you force your back away from the seat again and suck the tip of his index finger into your mouth.

He pulls his hand away reluctantly - but keeps his eyes on you as he shrugs out of his leather jacket. He blinks slowly, pulling his eyes down your smooth, brown skin as his fingers work out the knot of his tie. He loosens it quickly and pulls off the thin clip before he yanks the tie over his head and discards it to the floor. He flattens his palm on the inside of your thigh and pushes it down to your sex, massaging you again as his free hand pops the buttons of his shirt.

Your mouth drops open as you purr at the sensations rippling through you as he touches you, his fingers soft and slow, “Bucky,” you keen.

He hears the desperation - the ache - the trembling need in your voice. He wants to satisfy it. All of it. All of you. He pushes his pants low on his hips, down to his knees before he adjusts his position between your legs, leaning over you further. You grip his sides as his stomach rests against yours, his cock pushing at your entrance.

His eyes wander again, away from your face and down your virtuous body, knowing he and he alone has been the only man to boast its yield, “You’re beautiful.” The words slip off his tongue like silk. He means it.

“You’re beautiful.” You return quickly, running your hands down his soft, wide chest.

You know he doesn’t believe it when you say it. Out loud, in this vulnerable position. All of him on display. Every little roll and crevasse for you to see - he isn’t Tic. He isn’t six foot something, with cannons for arms and a washboard stomach. He’s just a man, a simple man, in love with a beautiful, bold, mischievous woman.

You dig your fingers into his flesh as he enters you, spreading you. You thrust your chest towards his as you slam your eyes closed, gasping at the fullness - the completeness - you feel. Your body starts to lunge upward, your breasts pushing with the movement. His weight leaves you as he sits back on his knees, his hips still prodding as he draws your leg up onto his chest and shoulder, dropping kisses on your ankle.

There’s fingers around your throat, squeezing gently before they venture up your chin and into your mouth. You accept them willingly as he flattens his free hand to your chest again. You stretch your arm forward, slinking your thin digits up his arm to his bicep as his hips push, push, push into yours. Soft. Deliberate. Slow. Ravishing you in the only way you know - the only way you want.  

The pressure builds in your stomach, steady and purposed. He knows it - he knows you. So, he grabs your hips, pulls them closer, your legs falling over his thighs, your feet sliding along the old leather seat as he fucks you. He leans over you again, knowing you like his weight on you. He digs his hips into yours - his cock plunging into your soft, accepting cunt as he watches you. Mouth hanging. Lips red. Breath heavy.

It’s a rhythm. An intricate dance the two of you have perfected over time. Pushing and pulling. Giving and taking. The windows are foggy with the heat your bodies have created - your skin damp; balmy. Little droplets of sweat beading between your breasts. His tongue is quick to rid you of them, the droplets, pushing out from behind his lips to lap at your skin. He’d do anything to please you.

Fingers tweak your thick nipples. Rough palms grip your hips. Deep groans, low hisses fill your ears. Soft words, pretty designations falling from his lips. Affirmations of love.

“I love you,” you pant, your words shuddering with each breath, “Bucky, I-”

“I know it, doll. I know it.”

You choke suddenly as the fire spreads without warning. Your orgasm rushes through you, burning a familiar path through your wilderness. Bucky fucks harder as you come - the sound of his skin slapping against yours growing louder, his grip on your hips harder.

He loves to hear you. Crying, screeching, mewling, howling as his body peels you apart, layer by layer. He loves to watch you - shuddering and trembling, hips jerking, toes curling. It’s all he needs, all he wants. He wraps his fingers loosely around your throat again and lets himself go, strained grunts accompanying your ungodly sounds as he starts to spurt over and over.

You flatten your feet against the seat and push your hips upward - still gasping, still jerking uncontrolled as the synapses continue to fire. The additional warmth he provides as he spills into you electrifies you. No other man will know the depths of you, will fill you with his seed. You’re ruined - and you like it that way.

He collapses on top of you when he can’t hold himself up any longer. Soft skin against soft skin. You instantly corral him in your arms, pushing your dainty fingers into his soft, brown hair as he nuzzles into your neck. Breath still hard and hot. You're sticky and he’s sticky, a satisfied haze drifting into your eyes and brain, lulling you.

He pulls you up with him seconds later, his eyes darting around the empty, quiet parking lot, glancing out the back before he scans through the windshield. He pulls his pants back up over his hips and reaches into the backseat to grab the blanket he keeps stowed away, wrapping it around you. He pulls you close, slinking that long arm around your shoulder and pushing his nose against yours as a lazy smile covers his face.

You hum happily as you rest your hand on his stomach, rubbing his full tummy softly with your finger tips, “Tell me about that big ol’ bed again,” you whisper, nuzzling into his face and nose with yours.

“Mmm,” he hums, smiling softly, “It’s called a California King. They make ‘em for all those stars out there in Hollywood.” You giggle, and his smile broadens, “I’m gonna get you one of those beds, I promise you.”

“I believe you.”

“You do?”

“I do. Although,”

“Although, what?”

“I don’t want you drivin’ Dottie anywhere anymore.”

He chuckles. The tips of his fingers brush over your naked shoulder and then dance down your arm, “She just wants what she can’t have. She’s jealous a’ you.”

“I know it.”

“Then don’t pay her no mind, girl. I mean it.” A silence drops over the two of you for a few minutes before he says, “I won’t drive her anywhere without tellin’ you. Okay?”

“Promise?”

“Promise. I’m sorry.”

You smile as you rest your head against his, letting your eyes close as sleep starts to pull you in. You feel him grab your fingers, pulling them away from his body as he starts to fumble around, slipping his arms back into his uniform. Once he’s dressed, you fall back into him. He wraps his arm around your neck. You place your hand back on his soft, round stomach. He rolls down the window, allowing the warm breeze to caress your skin. Nights like this are the best. You don’t know how you could be so stupid. You know he loves you.

You’ve always known.

“I’ma get you that little house over there on Pleasant drive, you know it?” he asks, daydreaming again, “We’ll get married -” You scoff, “What?”

“Married?” You ask skeptically, rolling your head on his shoulder as you keep your eyes closed.

“Yes. Married.”

“How are you going to be the law in this town if you’re steady breaking it?”

He chuckles, “You don’t listen to the news?”

“No,” You say softly, squeezing him tighter as you let out a breath, “Too depressin’.”

“Well,” He starts, dropping kisses to the top of your head, “Richard and Mildred Loving are fighting hard for people like you and me.” You open your eyes and blink slowly, watching as the wind plays the branches of the trees across the street as he continues, “They’ll overturn those bullshit laws - just you watch. I’ll marry you the very next day, right here in the middle of town.”

“You think?”

“I think, what?”

“They’ll overturn ‘em?”

“They have to. The world’s too big for that small minded, backwoods bullshit now.”

“And then you’ll buy me that house over there on Pleasant Drive?”

“Mmhmm.”

“And then get me one of those big old beds, what you call it?”

“A California King.”

“Yeah, that.”

“Sure will.”

“And then?”

He takes a breath before he sweeps his nose along yours again, brushing the tips together, “And then we’ll be together until we grow old and grey. I’ll probably be four hundred pounds by then, but.”

He chuckles as you pinch him, making him squirm from the sharp pain, “Stop it.” You warn.

“Look at me now! I’m well on my way.”

“I like you just how you are.” You say simply.

“I suppose you do.”

“I do.”

You barely have to push in to grab his lips as the two of you are already so close. You moan softly when they meet. That arm around your neck tightens, keeping you close - oh so close. You don’t tell him right away, but you like those daydreams of his. The house on Pleasant Drive, the big old bed, the wedding in the middle of town. You dream about them every night and wake up with them every morning. You don’t ever tell him though, because you’re the practical one. He’s the dreamer - and you like it that way.

You still don’t even tell him on the day he makes them all come true. How much you like those dreams of his.

#chubby!bucky #bucky barnes #chubby!bucky x reader #bucky barnes x reader #chubby!bucky x you #bucky barnes x you #chubby!bucky x black!reader #bucky barnes x black!reader #bucky barnes fic #bucky barnes fanfic #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes fandom #chubby!bucky barnes #avintagekiss24

[sabxism]

But I’m Here In Your Doorway

Pairing: Poe Dameron x Reader

Based on these lines from this is me trying: 

Pulled the car off the road to the lookout Could've followed my fears all the way down And maybe I don't quite know what to say But I'm here in your doorway

Word count: ~2.6k

Warnings: mentions of and encounter with possible suicide, injuries (blood, bruises, etc), mention of (previous) deaths

Summary: reader loses everything. after she nearly makes an irreversible decision, she goes to Poe for help. 

GIF not mine

The screams of your squadron members bounce around in your head. It was your fault, you knew that. You shouldn’t have set off without checking your ship. Without checking for any trackers. So it wasn’t a surprise when, out of nowhere, a group of TIEs burst out of hyperspace, straight into your fleet like pins being knocked over by 30 flying bowling balls. You had watched, helplessly, as your friends - your family - were picked off one-by-one. As they went up into terrifyingly bright balls of gas and flame and smoke. It was your fault. All your fault. 

Part of you was trying to cling onto the notion that you couldn’t have known, how could you have known? But the majority of your mind beat back those thoughts, letting the sickening guilt take over and push you into a dark corner. Debriefing had been a nightmare. General Organa had, of course, told you that it wasn’t your fault, that it was nobody’s fault but the spy she hadn’t discovered in time. She could sense the weight on your shoulders, sense you falling into a pit inside of yourself. 

After the meeting, she had pulled you aside.

“Y/N. I need you to look at me,” she said, turning your head gently but firmly with her right hand. “It isn’t your fault. You did everything you could. Sometimes, things are just out of our control.”

“I know,” you lied, just wanting this conversation to be over. Leia could sense your apprehension, and sighed.

“Look, I know that nothing I say is going to change how you feel, because I’ve been there, and I know what you’re thinking. I know it’s hard. Trust me.” you look down at the floor, scuffing the tip of your boot across the dusty ground. “It will get better. I promise you.”

“Thanks, general.” 

“How many times do I have to tell you to call me Leia?” she asks lightly as you turn to walk away.

“A few more, apparently,” you respond, the ghost of a false smile resting over your face. With that, you turn on your heel and head to your quarters. 

You step through the door as it slides open and sit down on your bed. You reach for your datapad, wanting to distract yourself with something. 

You click the screen on, and your heart drops. Staring back at you are the smiling faces of your squadron. You’re all clustered around Mari’s new droid, with hands on its shiny purple head. She had been so happy to get that little guy. 

Now they were both nothing more than dust drifting through the empty expanse of space.

 You hurl the tablet at the wall, watching as the screen shatters and falls to the floor. 

You place your head in your hands, silent sobs racking your body. You clench your hair in your hands, knuckles turning white. You stand up, body shaking, and walk out of your quarters.

You pass Finn in the hallway. He smiles at you, but you can’t bring yourself to do the same. You feel awful as he looks back at you as you pass him, but at this point there’s no use trying to fix it. You trudge outside and up to your x-wing sitting on the tarmac, the edges of the wings blackened from smoke. You glance around, checking the coast is clear, then scurry up the ladder and into the cockpit. You check the time. 

1800. 

Sighing, you boot up your craft and quickly take off. You cruise over the base a few times, watching everyone go about their day. Like nothing happened. Like 10 of the most beautiful, vibrant souls hadn’t just been snuffed like a match. You swallow the knot in your throat and head for the atmosphere. You need to get away from here. 

-

“General Organa!” Leia turns, to see a frenzied runway tech sprinting towards her. “Y/N took off on an unauthorized flight.” 

Leia swallows thickly, her heart dropping. “How long ago?”

“We noticed she was left just now - but it looks like she’s been gone about an hour.” 

“Then there’s nothing we can do but hope she comes back safely.”

“That’s what I was worried about.”

-

You land on a nearby forest planet, after searching for about ten minutes for a place to touch down. You pick a plateau on the Western side, lowering your land gear as you begin to descend. You hop down from your ship onto the grassy earth, and look around. 

It’s quiet up here. There’s a soft wind blowing, and it weaves delicate fingers through your hair and across your face as you take off your helmet. You let it fall to the ground, and decide to walk around for a bit. You make your way to the edge of the plateau, and look out across the forest beyond. It stretches on for miles, a swath of dark green. The last rays of the sun blaze across the sky, painting the clouds with a pink-orange hue. 

You glance down, and your heart drops to your toes. It’s a long way to the ground below. You begin to back up, but for some reason you find yourself stopping. You get closer to the edge, still looking down. It would be so easy to just take another step. Just one more. All of this would be over. You wouldn’t have to feel this guilt anymore. 

Your knee lifts up slowly.

Realizing what you’re about to do, you scramble back, falling to the dirt. You brace your hands on the ground, digging your fingers into the earth to anchor yourself. Your chest heaves, and your vision spins. The ground seems to buckle, to toss you around. The sky bends and arches above you as you struggle to breathe. You roll over onto your stomach and wrap your arms around your knees. 

You don’t know how long you lie there, but by the time you have the courage to stand up and walk again, the moon is floating in the sky above you, and the stars glimmer against a black backdrop. 

You climb back into your x-wing and sit there, staring at your dashboard. Your eyes meet one of the few pictures leaned against the fuel gague. You and Poe lean against his x-wing a few months ago. You have your arms wrapped around each other. He’s kissing your cheek, and you’re laughing, open-mouthed, your nose scrunched up and your eyes shut tight. 

You take a shuddering breath. Poe. You couldn’t believe what you’d almost done - what you still might do, if you don’t get out of here. You couldn’t leave him like that. You rapidly go through your flight checklist and then take off, headed back to base. 

You land on the tarmac around 0200, exhausted and beaten down by your own thoughts. You hop out of your ship, landing on the ground with a thud. 

You start walking, not really knowing where your legs are taking you, but you end up at Poe’s quarters. You can hear movement inside the room. You raise a trembling hand and knock once.

He opens the door, and his eyes widen. His mouth moves silently, searching for words.

You swallow thickly, a nervous knot tying in your stomach. 

He takes a step toward you, not quite believing what he’s seeing. Leia had told him that you’d left suddenly after their meeting, and he had grown worried that you were hurt, or worse. But here you are, standing in front of him. Your form is limp and you’re drawn into yourself. Your face and neck are caked with blood and dirt, and your eyes are clouded and empty. 

“Hi,” you say weakly. He quickly closes the gap between the both of you, wrapping you in a tight embrace. Your arms hang limp beside you.

“Stardust,” he breathes, holding you tightly. “I was so worried.”

Tears prick the corners of your eyes, falling down your face and onto Poe’s shoulder. He pulls back, concerned. Cradling your face in his hands, his eyebrows crease with worry. 

He looks down at you, stroking your cheek gently with his thumb. There’s a silent question written across his features. You shake your head tearfully. You don’t know what to say. 

“Baby…” he whispers, pulling you close to his chest again. You clutch at the back of his shirt with shaking hands.“I’m here now - you’re safe. You’re ok, you’re ok, you’re ok.” He repeats those two words over and over like a mantra, equally to himself as to you. “Let’s get you inside, ok?” he says, and you nod. Placing a hand on the small of your back, he guides you into his quarters. 

“I’ll grab some clothes for you,” he says as you sit down on the edge of the bed. He rustles through his drawers, eventually coming up with a long-sleeved olive green shirt and a pair of grey boxer shorts. He sets them on the bed next to you. “Are you good to take a shower?” You think about it for a minute, and slowly shake your head. The idea of being pounded with thousands of tiny droplets makes you want to hide under a blanket. 

“Too much,” you murmur, and he nods in understanding. 

“Ok, love, that’s fine. We do need to clean you off and deal with these cuts, though.” he gestures to the lacerations across your skin. You nod weakly. You hear him pad over to the refresher unit and grab a medkit and some washcloths, which he wets under some running water from the sink. 

He kneels in front of you, and motions for you to take off your flight suit. You slip it halfway off, letting it rest around your waist. Poe sucked in a breath through his teeth as he saw the bruises blooming across your torso and arms. You’d gotten tossed around pretty bad, getting knocked through space by several of the TIEs. You’d slammed your sternum right into the dashboard at one point, and small fragments of something had slashed open nearly every bit of exposed skin and even some under your suit. 

“Y/N…” he says quietly, tearing up. You bite the inside of your cheek, hating to see him so upset. 

He gets to work cleaning your cuts. He’s as gentle as he can be, but you still hiss as the cold water on the washcloth cleans out your cuts, and tears start to fall as he bandages up a particularly bad cut on your stomach. He holds your hand the whole time, letting you squeeze his hand as hard as you need to, never even flinching as your vice grip tightens around his fingers. 

“Ok, baby, let me check your legs and then you’re all set,” he says, and you turn away, face flushing with nervousness. He’s confused for a second, then has a moment of understanding. He’s never seen you naked - you weren’t ready to get intimate yet, so you guys had been taking it slow, and now really wasn’t the best time to breach that barrier. “You can change into the shorts first,” he says quietly, and you look back at him gratefully. 

You make your way to the refresher unit, shutting the door behind you. You peel off your flight suit the rest of the way, followed by your undergarments, crusted with blood from the cuts on your stomach. You pile the discarded clothes in a pile by the shower, and slip on the shirt and shorts Poe had leant you. You take the opportunity to glance into the mirror above the sink, and grimace at the reflection that gazes back at you. Hair messy and tangled, face bruised and covered with small cuts, you were not a pretty sight to behold. Sighing, you head back into the main room. 

Sitting back down on the bed, you lean against the wall and stretch your legs out in front of you. Poe sits down on the mattress next to you, surveying your exposed limbs. They aren’t as bad as the upper half of your body, but they definitely aren’t good. He dabs at the cuts gently, taking your hand again. He mutters sweet nothings as you clench your teeth and shut your eyes tightly for the next few minutes as he finishes up. 

“All done,” he eventually says, and you relinquish your grip on his hand, wiping the tears from your eyes. He looks up at you, and you almost melt at the love in his eyes. You realize in that moment how lucky you are - that no matter what, he’ll always take care of you. Always. 

“Thank you,” you say quietly, and he smiles softly, opening his arms. You crawl over to where he’s leaned against the headboard and collapse into his embrace, breathing beginning to even out. 

“You need sleep, baby,” he says, and you nod. “You can stay here, if you want.” You nod again, and he presses a kiss to your hair. “I’ll grab some extra blankets from the closet.” He gets up and goes to retrieve them. You get under his comforter and lay your head down on one of the pillows. Your eyes drift closed.

 Poe pads back over to the bed and pauses, looking down at you. He swallows thickly, tearing up. He makes a promise to himself then and there that he’d never lose you like that. Never again. 

He lays another blanket over you, then switches off the lights. He quickly changes into some sleep clothes and then gets under the covers, laying down facing you. 

“Poe?” you mumble, searching for his face in the dark. 

“Right here, honey,” he says softly, and you inch closer to him, a bit nervous to get too close. He senses your unease and smiles softly. “Cmere,” he says, draping a hand over your waist and pulling you close to him. You tuck your head against his chest, a warm feeling creeping into your very core. Being this close to him is grounding. You take a deep breath in. The scent of the lavender soap he uses clings to his skin, and it washes over you. You listen to his breathing, feel the rise and fall of his chest. 

“I love you,” you breathe, eyes widening as you realize what you just said. The two of you haven’t exactly said it before. You feel Poe freeze beside you, and your heart drops. You mentally kick yourself. How could you say that right now?

“I love you too,” he says, and you can hear the smile in his voice. You blush furiously as he tilts your head up with his thumb and forefinger. “To the edge of the universe and back.” He presses his lips to yours, feather soft. 

“I love you,” you say again, just because you can. He smiles softly. 

“I’m proud of you, I want you to know that,” he says after a while. “For...getting through all this. I know it hurts, and it’ll stay that way for a bit, but…” he pauses, taking your hand in his. “But I’ll always be here if you need me. To talk, or just listen. You can lean on me, ok?”

“Ok,” you say quietly, looking up into his eyes. 

“Ok,” he whispers.

“Ok.” You smile, and his heart flips at the beauty of it. He pulls you into his chest once more, and you’re out like a light almost instantly. He presses his lips to your forehead before drifting off, holding you tightly in his arms.

#poe dameron #poe dameron fic #poe dameron/reader #poe dameron x reader #poe dameron fluff #poe dameron angst #star wars #star wars fic #star wars fluff #star wars angst #poe dameron fanfic #poe dameron fanfiction #fluff #angst #fluff and angst

[alecmagnuslwb]

Giving Home a Heartbeat - @doubleredweek Day 7

Read on AO3

Jason’s pretty sure that somewhere underneath all these boxes is the house they bought, he’s just not quite sure where.

“Jay Jay, Daddy stopped picking up boxes and sat down, so I’m picking up the slack!” Lian shouts over the distinct scraping sound of cardboard. Jason turns and there she is walking backwards her tiny hands pulling a box along that’s practically the same size as her not even breaking a sweat. Sometimes Jason thinks they really need to ask Jade about any superhuman abilities she might be hiding that could have been passed down.

Jason shakes his head and walks over to her lifting the box and sitting it over with the rest of the living room Jenga stack of cardboard boxes that is their life.

“Good work princess,” Jason says ruffling her hair as she sidles up next to him looking at all the boxes with a much more gleeful look on her face than the one he’s sporting.

“I am not slacking,” Roy shouts with a struggling groan. Jason turns back to the door watching as Roy takes a step through with three heavy boxes precariously stacked on top of one another in his arms blockading Roy’s body almost entirely from view. Jason rushes over to his side taking the highest one revealing Roy’s head his messy hair dripping with sweat and poking out wildly from underneath his backwards cap.

“These are the last ones and I just didn’t want to make numerous trips,” he grunts shifting the boxes in his arms. “Dick and Babs are taking the truck back and sweetly said they will not be coming back to help us unpack.” Jason rolls his eyes eight siblings, one younger than them aunt, two pseudo sisters-in-laws, a literal space traveling brother-in-law, three parental figures and one grandfatherly figure between the two of them and not one of them stuck around long enough to put all these boxes through the front door.

“We don’t know exactly how you want everything set up,” Connor had justified as he and Kyle started floating up into the sky and away as soon as the truck was full as if Jason, Roy and especially Lian wouldn’t happily boss them around with instructions of where to place things.

Stephanie, Tim and Damian even had the audacity to eat half the moving day pizza on their own, pick up one box together and then disappear. Teamwork Steph had called it before high fiving Roy and running after her boyfriend. Chaotic bisexuals Roy had sighed as they sped away on her motorcycle Damian already long gone slipping off like a silent shadow in the mid-day.

At least Roy and Jason hadn’t had to pay for the pizza they got one shared slice of, after twenty minutes of arguing about who should pay Oliver and Bruce had settled on splitting. Though knowing Bruce Jason would bet he added on a bigger tip when Ollie’s back was turned just to spite him.

“Do you think the Aqua Family treat each other this way?” Jason says watching as Lian tosses a small box up on the still covered in plastic couch and starts tearing at the tape.

“I bet they swim across the seven seas and happily move their family’s underwater décor without complaint,” Roy says as he slips behind Jason resting his chin on Jason’s shoulder. Together they survey the room with the knowledge that every other room in the house looks much the same, a labyrinth of boxes. It’s gonna take them weeks to unpack all the stuff from the workshop alone.

“I know we don’t know her as well as my dad and Bruce, but do you think if we put in a call to Zatanna she’d just,” Roy says flicking his hands around Jason’s waist in a pale comparison to the intricate patterns Jason’s seen her do in battle. “Ya know, poof and we’re unpacked.”

“I don’t think that’s gonna happen,” Jason sighs. Lian has fully opened the box now pulling out item after item that definitely all belong in the kitchen not on their living room couch.

Roy faux cries burying his face in Jason’s neck sadly. Jason reaches up a hand only slightly condescendingly patting at Roy’s head.

“Alright, we gotta start somewhere. Lian’s room is the priority, you and I have slept on far more uncomfortable things than a plastic wrapped couch,” he says, they’ve already got a start in there anyways thanks to Alfred the only member of their families who’s not an ingrate setting up her pink and green matching bed, bookshelf, desk and wall shelves without even being asked. Jason survey’s the room eyes falling over to the kitchen. “I’d say we shoot for finishing the kitchen tonight too, but we can always just order takeout again.”

“More pizza!” Lian squeals in delight twirling a bundle of measuring cups around and around in one hand.

“No, we’ll get something else,” Roy says and Lian’s face drops just a little. “Something with lots of vegetables, like Thai maybe.” She perks back up at that.

“As long as I don’t have to eat peas,” she grumbles trading the measuring cups out for a ladle she taps delightedly on the boxes flap.

“Fine, no peas,” Jason says slipping away from Roy and grabbing the box Lian has been playing around with as she shouts triumphantly about the lack of peas in her future. He tosses the things she’s taken out of the box back in and slides it onto the kitchen counter to deal with later.

“Go to your room and start unpacking the boxes labeled books first okay,” Roy says lifting her up from the couch her legs sticking to the plastic as he does and settling her feet on the ground. “Put some on the lower shelves, but don’t try to reach the high shelves without Jay or I’s help okay?”

Lian nods furiously skittering off clapping her hands in joy, her light up Scooby Doo shoes going wild with every step.

“Promise, Daddy!” she shouts as she hightails it up the stairs and turns the corner sharply. A light thud earns their attention as soon as she disappears from sight followed by silence.

“Lian?” Jason shouts after her already braced to rush the stairs if she doesn’t respond instantly. Roy does the same.

“I’m okay, I just kicked a box over!” she shouts back and they both breathe a sigh of relief. “And it knocked over two more!” she says with utter delight causing them both to chuckle.

“If we want to get this house done before she’s out of high school, we’re gonna need to send her for an archery range day with grandpa tomorrow,” Roy says walking over to Jason. He hops up onto the kitchen island kicking his feet out back and forth.

“And maybe an ice cream day with aunt Emiko the day after that, just in case,” Jason adds on as he settles himself between Roy’s dangling legs his back to Roy’s front. Roy wraps his arms back around him, placing his chin back where it had been in the living room.

They both gaze out across the rooms, across their home, across what it will be in a few days’ time. Jason never thought he’d call Star City home, hell he never thought he’d get out of the Narrows, but here he is a homeowner with a man he fully intends to keep for the rest of his life and a little girl he considers his daughter.

“It’s gonna look great when it’s all set up,” Roy says nuzzling his face softly to Jason’s temple. “The perfect mix of superhero chic and parents of a five-year-old who only occasionally cleans up after herself.”

“An interior designers dream,” Jason chuckles leaning back further into Roy’s arms.

“Jade’s gonna hate it,” Roy laughs.

“Oh god, I’ll fly Alfred out to help me clean just to be sure it’s spotless when the time comes. When does she get back from South America?”

“The fourteenth, she’s taking Lian for the week, remember?” Roy says pressing a quick kiss to Jason’s jaw. The fourteenth, that’s plenty of time to make it look it’s best to at least cut her sly judgements in half.

They’re quiet for a while comfortably listening to the rustling sound of Lian tearing tape off of boxes above them. She’s probably gonna be wrapped in it by the time they get up here.

“We own a house,” Jason says breaking the comfortable quiet still stunned by the fact they’ve made it here. Six years ago he walked away from Roy, the worst mistake he’s ever made, and somehow impossibly when he came crawling back Roy welcomed him with open arms and now they’re here. It feels almost too good to be true.

Roy nods and Jason can feel his smile against his neck.

“Your stuck with me now Jaybird,” he chuckles and Jason pulls Roy’s arms around him tighter, happily stuck. They bask in each other’s arms a little longer when the sound of tape gets louder and more prominent followed by a giggle and comical ‘oops’ from Lian.

“We better go help her before she mummifies herself in packing tape,” Roy chuckles slipping out from behind Jason and making his way to the stairs taking them two at a time. Jason hangs back for a moment just looking one last time at the space in front of him, looking at their home before following the sounds of tape being unwrapped from clothes and the laughter of the two most important people in his world.

#my fic #jayroy #jayroyweek2021 #jason todd #roy harper #writersmonth2021

[hajimesh]

[ 𝘀𝗸𝘆𝗳𝗮𝗹𝗹 ] — sunrise

◌ ⁺ ˖˚ 𝚌𝚘𝚝𝚝𝚘𝚗 𝚜𝚔𝚒𝚎𝚜 [6:33]

⥅ word c. 1.4k

⥅ warnings. fluff, slice of life, one suggestive line

people often label sunsets as ‘otherworldly’ while they take pictures of the same orange sky. but if someone were to ask you, you’d pick sunrises in a heartbeat.

the world is barely awake, you can hear the wind blowing against the trees and birds chirping; which is something you could never experience during a sunset, not with the noise of a city wide awake and busy.

perhaps what made sunrises better was that you got to see a brunet man walking down the street, hands inside of the pocket of his grey hoodie, and a worn-out backpack hanging from his shoulder.

he hadn't seen you, probably way too lost in his own head to notice you sitting by the open window, two floors above him. but when he finally did, olive eyes stared blankly at you.

"what are you doing up there?"

you waved at him as you leaned over the windowsill, "i live here, hajime."

he seemed tired, rubbing at his eyes as he walked to the building’s entrance and disappearing from your sight.

you waited for the apartment door to open, perking up once iwaizumi’s silhouette slipped through and heard the sound of keys hitting the small table on the right. you quickly went to greet him, standing up from your spot by the window and meeting him halfway in what had to be the tightest hug you had ever received from him.

“fuck, i missed you.”

he nuzzled his face against your neck, breathing in the lavender body wash from your skin and leaving a kiss on it. his hold on you was tight yet comforting, just as the silence of the world at six in the morning.

“i know,” your fingers threaded through his hair, “would you like to sleep now or have breakfast first?”

“cuddle.”

“that wasn’t an option.”

lifting his head, he gazed straight into your eyes, “but i want to keep looking at you.”

“then take a picture?” you offered, staring amusedly at the small pout on his lips.

“it’s not the same.”

still between his arms, he guided you towards the bed placed at the corner of the apartment, and once you were under the covers, it was you who now hid their face in his neck.

“why are you still up?” he asked with his lips against the crown of your hair.

if you had told him you were waiting for him, you’d have probably ended up being scolded. so you chose to go with a little white lie. after all, it held a bit of truth.

shrugging, you nuzzled closer to his chest, seeking more of his warmth, “couldn’t sleep without you.”

“is your insomnia back?”

“think so,” you murmured, “but i got to greet you back, so i don’t mind.”

it was silent for a while, the only sounds coming from your breaths and the noise of cars driving down the street. the world was slowly waking up, clouds that resembled cotton candy floating on the sky and a light, chill breeze coming through the open window.

“haji, you should sleep.”

“i will,” he breathed out, his hold on you tightening for a moment, “now that i have you in my arms.”

“that was so cheesy.”

his chest reverberated with his laugh, lips tugging upwards as he swept his tongue across his teeth in a cheeky way. in return, your heart melted at the sight. 

“you never complained before, and i know you love it.”

“i do,” you looked up at him, eyes gleaming under the sunlight, “i love you.”

a mix of emotions seemed to swirl in his eyes, staring back at yours weirdly. it was hard to pinpoint what was going through his mind, but you could tell that whatever it was, it seemed to trouble him.

“i love you too.”

—

it was almost eight pm and iwaizumi hadn’t woken up yet.

“haji,” you whispered, leaning closer to his face as you searched for a sign of consciousness, “you’ll be late.”

“babe, c’mon. five more minutes,” he groaned, voice throaty and laced with sleep.

it took you every ounce of willpower to not kiss him right at that moment.

“you’re kidding, right? we’ve been sleeping all day.”

his arms circled your waist, pulling you on top of him, “‘twas your fault, i was dreaming of you,” he mumbled with his eyes still closed.

“how is that my fault, hajime?” you huffed out playfully, but when you didn’t hear a reply from him, you lifted your head and rested your chin on his chest.

he had fallen asleep again.

squirming against his hold, you freed yourself and crawled on top of him until you were so close that your lips brushed against his. 

“you’ll be late for work,” you began to litter kisses all over his jaw and saw his brows furrow slightly. even asleep, his facial features kept that roughness in them that made him look as if he were troubled. smoothing out the crease between his brows, you murmured, “i shouldn’t have let you nap after we had lunch.”

still half asleep, he cupped your face between his hands and pulled you down for a kiss. it was lazy and a bit clumsy, you blamed it on the fact that he had just woken up. but after getting a taste of him, you were tempted to ask him to stay.

with his hands still at the sides of your face, he pulled your mouths apart, gazing lovingly at your face as he brushed a few hairs away from it. iwaizumi’s eyes always caused your knees to falter and your heart to tremble, especially when they focused on you. 

“how did you sleep?” he asked before squinting his eyes at you, “did you sleep?”

“yeah, yeah, i did. no need to start nagging at me.”

he yawned, stretching his arms above his head while you climbed off of him, “i need to shower.”

“mhm, you stink,” you fake gagged only to squeal a second later when he pinched your sides.

finally on his feet, you watched your boyfriend get closer to you. sometimes you forgot how imposing iwaizumi’s presence could be, suddenly feeling small under his half-lidded stare. 

“shower with me,” he said in your ear, big hands grabbing you by your hips as he began to nip at your neck. 

“o-oh?” with a raised eyebrow and a smirk, you wrapped your arms around his broad shoulders, “lead the way, then.”

the sound of your giggles echoed in the small apartment as he carried you bridal style towards the bathroom, his own laugh joining yours.

—

“don’t forget your wallet!”

iwaizumi was running late, just as you predicted. 

he rushed left and right, his hair still damp from the shower since he barely had enough time to finish getting dressed and make it on time.

standing by the door, you watched as he threw his belongings into his backpack while cursing under his breath, “i told you you’d be late.”

“i know, i know,” the tone of annoyance made you giggle, “shit–” he tripped on nothing and pointed a finger at you as if daring you to laugh, “where did you say my wallet was?”

“didn’t say,” you teased but continued before he could start complaining, “in the kitchen, baby.”

once he had everything, he finally made his way to the door. 

“what would i do without you?” he sighed, relieved, after kissing you on the forehead.

it was that faint sense of domesticity what kept your heart full. the morning greetings and goodbye kisses, midday naps with the reassurance that the other will be there when you wake up.

iwaizumi had become your home just as you became his.

with a shake of your head, you watched with a fond smile as he put on his shoes and picked up his hoodie, “work hard, i’ll be waiting for you.”

he stopped abruptly, his hand already reaching for the doorknob, “i should probably tell you not to,” he paused, seeming to ponder something only to grimace afterwards, “fuck it, i’ll be selfish.”

he leaned forward to kiss you, his free hand holding you by the back of the neck as the other remained on the doorknob. sadly, it ended as quickly as it began.

“see you at sunrise!”

in your daze, you barely had the chance to smile back at him as he waved goodbye.

#iwaizumi x you #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu x you #iwaizumi hajime x reader #iwaizumi x reader #iwaizumi hajime x you #haikyuu fluff #im gonna read this as aftercare bc im feelin pretty shitty rn #prob gonna dip for a bit #hope u like it<3

[mikoobun]

i love you, will you marry me?

    SPOILERS FROM CHAPTER 132 OF ATTACK ON TITAN BELOW

You were numb.

You couldn’t feel or hear anything.

You knew the Colossal Titans stormed on toward you and the members of whoever was left of the Survey Corps; how could you not? You just couldn’t comprehend this moment. 

Here, where your love said her final goodbyes.

Your throat burned and you could feel your damn brain pulsing against your skull as she spoke. You clenched your fists tightly, drawing blood in your fists.

You noticed one thing.

Why wouldn’t she look at you?

You swallowed thickly, forcing yourself to wipe the tears from your red eyes.

“Hanji-” You began. Your voice had turned coarse.

“Goodbye everyone,” Hanji said, speaking over you. She seemed to be strangely satisfied with her fate. Her farewell was a stark contrast to the horrified expressions around her. 

Hanji’s eyes floated among everyone in the group; Levi, Jean, Armin, Connie, Mikasa, Annie and Reiner.

But she wouldn’t even glance at you. 

You; the one who’d been by her side long enough that losing her would mean losing a great part of your soul.

Confusion mixed with anger bubbled in your chest.

“Hanji-” You began again, louder this time, only to be ignored again.

“Levi is now your subordinate,” Hanji announced to the youngers, with her back turned to you, in something like a joking tone. “So feel free to boss him around as you wish.”

Your face darkened. Fresh tears ran down your cheeks as your fists subconsciously clenched again. Levi noticed your blatant irritation, pursing his lips tightly.

Why was she doing this? Why was she ignoring you? 

Would she truly leave you alone without saying goodbye?

Without a word, you narrowed your teary eyes and marched behind Hanji. You roughly grabbed your love’s arm. “Hanji,” This time, your voice cracked horribly and you let your tears flow freely. “Hanji, I know you hear me.”

A moment passed before Hanji sighed quietly.

The brunette turned to face you. Your expression softened immediately. Hanji’s beautiful brown eyes were equally as anguished and tearful as yours, if not then more. Her entire face was red, and her olive cheeks were soaked with tears.

“Hanji,”

On this day, 6 Years into the Past

“Y/N!”

What the hell? 

Your eyes twitched, but you kept them closed.

“Y/NNNN!”

Is that Hanji?

You groaned a little, lazily flopping your arm in the direction of all the chaos.

Hanji crossed her arms and pouted. “Why. Won’t. You. Wake. Up,” Hanji poked your face with a pen, emphasizing every word she murmured. Much to her surprise, you actually responded back this time.

“Maybe because you’re screaming in my ears.”

Sure, your response was sarcastic and barely audible due to your face being pressed into a pillow, but it was still something.

Hanji smiled brightly. “Oh, so you were awake,”

You groggily sat up and rubbed your eyes, which were still growing acquainted to the bright morning light. “I suppose so,” You mumbled, yawning. Hanji noticed the tone of slight irritation in your voice. After all, she did tear you away from sleep. Very loudly, at that.

Before you could process it, Hanji, in her spirited nature, grabbed your face with both hands and pressed a quick peck to your lips.

“Good morning, my love.” 

Her beautiful smile shone brighter than the sun abusing your poor eyes.

Your face softened, and soon you found yourself giggling. You decided to let go of your little grudge.

“Good morning, beautiful.”

__

The day had gone on as usual. You’d spent your days in the military assisting your love in her lab, which you could only describe as a dream job. Every day was a new adventure with Hanji, and you would never have it any other way. Lately, Hanji had been cooped up in her lab for longer periods of time; forgetting to eat, drink, and sometimes even forgetting to sleep. Luckily she had you, her assistant and her lover, to make sure she was properly taken care of.

As the day neared its end, you walked through the hallway leading up to Hanji’s door, balancing a full plate of food in one hand, and a cup of hot tea in the other. 

“Hanji,” You called. “Open up.”

CRASH!

A deafening yell and a number of crashes and thuds boomed as your response.

You flinched so hard that you almost dropped everything in your grasp.

What in God’s name just happened in there?

“H-Hanji?” You said again.

 No response.

Your eyebrows furrowed in concern. “Hanji, I’m coming in now.”

“N-No!” Hanji’s muffled voice hollered. “Don’t come in here!”

“Yeah, why not?” You asked. “I brought you food.”

“Really? I can only imagine where I’d be without you,” She gushed, then paused. “B-But still! Don’t come in here!”

You rolled your eyes. Whatever she was worried about couldn’t have been that bad. You’ve seen it all when it comes to your wacky genius. “I’m coming in now.” You ignored her protests and turned the doorknob handle.

You swung open the mahogany door, setting the food down on the nearest table. You scanned the room. Hanji’s lab was overall in order, but her desk was a nightmare. Papers were sprawled along the floor, empty cups were broken and Hanji stared at you with a nervous smile. Her hands were hidden behind her back.

You’ve got to be kidding me.

“Hanji,” You sang, slowly walking toward her. “What’s behind your back?”

Hanji stepped back with every step you took forward.

She gulped. “I.. Well, you..”

 You could see her eyes shooting back and forth between you and the open door behind you both. 

Oh no, you don’t-

Hanji launches herself toward the door, cackling wildly. “If you want to see it, I suppose you’ll have to chase me!” 

You found yourself smiling to yourself at the laughing fool. You ran after your crazy woman with the same reckless abandon.

You two passed your subordinates, as well as Captain Levi and Commander Erwin who looked at you two with complete confusion written into their faces.

“I don’t even want to know,” Erwin sipped his tea. Levi shook his head. “The less time we spend trying to understand those two, the more time we get to function.” And the two went back to talking about whatever they were talking about.

You and Hanji found yourselves running the streets of the town under the blanket of the night sky. Internally you thanked whoever heard you that you were in such good shape from even being in the military; you’d chased her a pretty far distance before you felt yourself starting to become exhausted.

“Hanji,” You huffed, slowing down. 

“What is it,” You heard Hanji tease. She was starting to slow down too, but she made sure she was out of your reach. “Running out of breath already?” 

“Just tell me what’s in your hand!”

With no response, Hanji turned a sharp corner. You groaned to yourself and decided to stop chasing her. You were sweating like hell, and you were huffing and puffing like a crazy person. You were sure you looked like one, too. You rested your hands on your knees, and looked around for somewhere to rest. Your eyes fell upon a spare wooden box in a dark, crooked alleyway. It wasn’t the prettiest-in fact it was a little creepy- but you only wanted to sit and catch your breath for a moment.

You sat on the box and rested your back on the brick wall, feeling yourself become wearier as time went on. Your eyes began to slowly close when-

“Y/N,” A velvety voice called above you. 

A warm cloak fell lightly upon your resting shoulders. You opened your E/C eyes and saw the soft grin of your love herself.

Hanji sat next to you and pulled your tired head onto her shoulders. “I was looking for you everywhere.”

“Was I out for that long?” You mumbled tiredly, inhaling her sweet, intense scent. You closed your eyes once more, but you weren’t asleep.

“No,” Hanji hummed. “But you were gone long enough to make me think.”

You remained silent, listening to her soft words.

“You’re still wondering I was holding in my hand, aren’t you?” Hanji brushed your hair with her fingers. You nodded.

“It’s a.. Well..” She fumbled over her words, and began to play with her hands. You peered up to see her face heating up.

You were confused. What could it have been? Then you wondered if you were pressing her too much.

“Hanji, its okay,” You started. “You don’t have to tell-”

Hanji cleared her throat. 

“I’ll put it plainly, its a ring.”

.  .  .

A ring?

Your lips parted ever so slightly. Your eyes were wide. “A ring?” You repeated your thoughts. “Hanji, does this mean you want to-”

“Yes,” Hanji was beaming now, but not at you. She had her starry eyes in the sky, while her arm pulled you close.

“Truth be told, want to spend the rest of my life with you,” Hanji began whimsically. “I’ve been working on making it for you for a while now.”

Suddenly it all made sense to you. The sleepless nights, the skipping meals. 

Had it had all been for you?

Your eyes filled with warm tears. Hanji’s delicate fingers lightly brushed them away.

“I want to show it to you,” She revealed a cloth in her palms, in the outline of a finger band. “But I can’t. At least right now I can’t.”

“Why is that?” You asked.

She turned to face you, wonder in her brown eyes. “I want to wait until the world is ours,” She exclaimed.

“When the titans are gone and remembered as societies nightmare, we can live together as a bickering old couple. I want to marry you so, so badly Y/N, but I want to do it right. I want to do it when this world is at peace. I want to die knowing I’m married to Y/N L/N.”

She grasped your hands tenderly within her own. Hanji stared into your emotional E/C eyes, with her own beautiful brown ones.

“What do you say, Y/N? Would you marry me?”

__

Present Day

“Hanji,”

Hanji swallowed the bile that burned the back of her throat. She tried so hard to avoid looking directly into your pained expression. Hanji absolutely hated hurting you like this.

As much as she wanted these final moments to last, she felt the rumble of titans approaching.

 She had to make this quick, and she hated it.

“Y/N,”

Hanji breathed shakily. With a quivering hand, she reached into her dark green cloak, watching as your red eyes trailed her every move.

“I hope that someday,” She inhaled sharply. “Someday, you can forgive me for what I’m about to do,”

Hanji’s fate was sealed, yet she kept that damn smile on her face as she spoke. Your heart pounded in your ears as Hanji finally approached you. She grasped both of your hands in hers, just like she’d done on that day.

“Y/N L/N,” She announced.

“I love you. Will you marry me?”

Your eyes widened. Your mouth fell slightly agape. 

No... This isn’t how it was supposed to happen...

You nodded, as if you were entranced. “Yes,” You mumbled breathily.

Hanji’s grin only spread across her whole face as she pulled you into a tight embrace. Hanji nuzzled her face into your neck. She was wetting it with tears, but you didn’t care. You tried so hard to take in and remember as much of her scent in as you could. You knew you would never smell it again.

“Thank you,” Her small voice whispered into your ear. “Thank you for everything.”

Soon, Hanji pulled away, but not before leaving a small peck atop of your lips.

And even as you screamed and cried and begged Hanji not to go,

even as Jean held you back from chasing your crazy scientist into the death mission,

Hanji smiled to herself as the world of Titans around her began to fade.

She’d finally gotten to do what she’d always wanted to.

__

You hadn’t even realized your palm was still closed from when Hanji had held you. You felt something cold within your fist. Cracking open your hands, your eyes brimmed, and your throat knotted at what you had saw.

A silver and gold ring.

___________

this is my first story in a while :))) i hope you enjoyedd- nila

#attack on titan #hanji #aot #manga #anime #chapter 132 aot #character death #rumbling #hanji x reader #hanji zoe x reader #hange x reader #hange zoe x reader #aot hange #aot hange zoe #angst #shingeki no kyojin #levi #jean #armin #annie #reiner

[thatslikely]

Seeker Pt. 2 - D.M.

Seeker Part 2- Draco Malfoy x fem!reader (unspecified house but not Slytherin)

Warnings: None! Just a fluffy sequel :)

Word Count: 3.0k

A/N: You can find part 1 here if you haven’t read it already!  Sorry this took so long, I’ve just been trying to make sure its a worthy sequel.  I wanna thank everyone for over 150 notes on Part 1, I never expected such astounding support!  Also keep your eye out for the mini surprise at the end ;)  Also I would really love feedback since this is my first sequel, especially to my first ever fic.

Just a reminder: Y/N is Your Name and Y/L/N is Your Last Name

----

Meet me at our spot tonight at 11.  I’ve missed you.

D.M.

You slid the perfectly-written crisp parchment back into the expensive black envelope it arrived in, to hide it from your nosy dorm-mates.  Draco’s owl perched patiently at the open window of your dorm, barely making a chirp. You handed the well-trained bird a small piece of chocolate, which was previously stowed away in your nightstand, before sitting down at your desk to pen Draco a response.   

The holiday break had been relaxing, especially since you got a long break from Quidditch practices.  You loved Quidditch, you dare say almost as much as Oliver Wood did, but your muscles were perpetually sore, much to your displeasure.

You hadn’t seen the Slytherin Seeker, who you now affectionately call your friend, since the day before break began, and you were desperate to see his handsome smile again.  You missed the glow of his hair in the moonlight, the ambitious and determined look in his eyes before a match, the soft touch of his hands as he held your shoulder or less frequently, your hand.

The line between friend and lover had always been blurred with him; often people accused him of being your boyfriend.  Some days he reluctantly denied it, but some he just gave you a charming wink as he grasped your hand firmly.

It would be idiotic to deny your abundant feelings for him.  At first, it was the subtle ways you’d pick up the little habits about him: how he fiddled with his rings when he was nervous, or how he always polished his broom every afternoon before a game or even the way he swiftly brushed his hand through his platinum blonde hair the moment he saw you walk towards him.

The blush that crept up on his alluring face every time you were near signalled that the feelings were thankfully mutual.  He was painfully obvious, as you were sure you were too, so it was only a matter of time before he’d ask you out on a date to Hogsmeade.   Hopefully, it will even be tonight.

The blonde’s owl had flown away by the time you realized that you had yet to jot him down an answer.  You could always send him an acknowledging wink at dinner since you always purposefully made sure to position yourself for a picture-perfect view of him in all his glory.

Dinner came and went.  The food was delicious per usual, you were constantly glancing at Draco from across the Great Hall, you chatted with your friends about the upcoming Potions test, which Draco would surely insist on helping you study for.  And of course, you sent him a playful wink as promised.

His silver eyes weren’t off you either.  He loved to admire the way your face morphed into a lively laugh or the soft, warm glow that bounced off your face, courtesy of thousands of floating candles overhead.  He loved everything about you, inside and out, and he was ready to show it.

By the time eleven rolled around, you were thoroughly prepared.  You ensured your hair was perfect and your outfit was warm but eye-catching.  You clasped a delicate hand-wrapped forest green box, which’s lid was held on with a beautiful piece of starlight-silver twine.

It was a tradition to get your friends presents upon returning from the snow-speckled break, and Draco would be no exception.  You were certain you would receive no gift in return, but you didn’t care.  Draco, for lack of a closer term, was your friend, so he was no exception to your tradition. 

----

Draco had definitely gone soft on you, and his fellow Slytherins didn’t fail to notice.  Every time he snuck out even a second past curfew to see you at the Owlery, or Astronomy Tower, or anywhere really, they’d crack some sort of joke at both his and yours’ expense.  

He had not only gone soft on you but perhaps the whole school, in a way.  He was less prone to impulsively hexing first years, instead opting for slightly rude remarks.  He was even a tad bit nicer to the Golden Trio. 

He was still smart and sharp as ever though, maybe even paying a little bit more attention in class, in case you needed help studying.  

One thing didn’t change about him though, and that was his attitude regarding Quidditch.  He was fierce and strong as ever, and there was no way he’d back down during a game, even for you.  Even when he wasn’t playing against you, he’d play extra competitively, in an attempt to both intimidate and impress you.

And whenever it was you on the broom and him in the stands, he always cheered for you as loud as his lungs allowed.  You always wondered why his voice was hoarse after you won a match the night before, not thinking that it was his yells that rang the loudest through the pitch.

----

The steps up to the Owlery were icy, just as you were afraid of.  Your knuckle was white from gripping the freezing stone rail up the endless steps.  Finally, though, you reached the top, unsurprised to see that Draco had beaten you up here.  He was always one step ahead, after all. 

“It’s felt like ages since I’ve seen you, Y/N.  How was your holidays?”  His face lightened at the sight of you peeking elegantly through the cracks of moonlight.  You looked as gorgeous as ever.

“It was wonderful!  I got a brand new Quidditch broom, so be prepared to eat my dust, Malfoy,” you said with a smirk.  Your hands rested suspiciously behind your back, carefully concealing Draco’s present. 

“Don’t get too ahead of yourself, Y/L/N.  Remember, I won’t hesitate to push you off your broom, even if it kills you.”  Draco’s words, even the taunting ones, sounded like the most eloquent poetry to your love-struck heart.  

“Right back at you.  I actually practiced my shoving techniques every morning back home.  I bet I could push you off your broom 23 different ways if I really wanted to.”

Draco chuckled at your comment and you let your sarcastic expression fade into a genuine smile.  The blonde slowly inches even closer to you; your face is eventually so close to Draco’s that you can see every detail imprinted on his pale skin.  He accidentally brushes his ring ornamented hand against yours, causing your cheeks to become pink and warm, imitating the effects of sipping some freshly-steeped tea.   

“Well anyway, I have something for you.  For the holidays, you know.”  Draco pulls out a small black box from his matching black trousers with a charming smile.  His rings reflect the pale moonlight magnificently, and you catch yourself staring at the back of his hands.

You slowly accept the box from his hand, your hand half holding his as you take it.  You say quietly, “You didn’t have to get me a gift, Draco.”

 “I didn’t have to.  I wanted to, love.  I care about you, more than you’ll ever know.”  You felt the corners of your eyes prick with tears at his kind words.  Everything he said somehow managed to hit you directly in the heart.  

You carefully opened the inky-black box.  Draco looked down at you anticipatedly, a hopeful grin painting his face.

Laying perfectly inside of the box was a beautiful, ornate, and expensive silver serpent necklace, identical to the rings that he wore daily.  The glimmering eyes of the snake were magnificent, crystalline emeralds, which precisely matched the bold hue of Slytherin’s Quidditch robes.

Your eyes continued to grow misty; your hand that wasn’t admiring every microscopic detail of the necklace was covering your mouth in awe.  Draco’s lips quirked into a cocky smile at your reaction, clearly pleased with himself.  

Without hesitation, you clasped the necklace around your neck.  You couldn’t stop fiddling with it until Draco grabbed your hand, using the connection to pull your chest into his slowly.  He softly muttered, “I like you, more than you’ll ever know” before leaning in for a kiss.

Draco’s lips on yours were like nothing you’ve ever felt.  He felt magnetic.  You would never be able to let go of this moment, the way his hand cupped your cheek gently, the way your hand glided from his chest to his shoulder, pulling him impossibly closer.  You felt whole.  

When you finally pulled away, your electrified lips yearned to touch his’ again.  Instead of kissing him again though, you barely managed to squeak, “I like you, too.”

----

The next Quidditch match came by faster than you expected, and you were scrambling to prepare for your battle against the Slytherins once again.  Draco had been gloating all day about how much he and the team had improved since your previous game.  

“You may have gotten lucky last match, Y/L/N, but this time you’ll like a first-year learning how to fly next to me.  Do you think the gold of the Snitch will compliment my hair?”  Draco swept his hand through his perfectly-styled platinum blonde locks, a cocky expression unsurprisingly on his face.

“You won’t even have to worry about whether it matches your stupidly gorgeous head of hair or not since it’ll be me who gets it in the first place!”  You retorted, rolling your eyes at him instinctively.    

“Oh, really?” he asked flirtatiously, before giving you a small peck.  The sudden kiss caused you to become so flustered, that you couldn’t do anything but shut up; he grinned triumphantly at your reaction.

The game started not long after yet again another boastful interaction with Draco.  You hovered high above the ground on your new, polished broom, ready to beat your Slytherin ‘rival’ once more.

Draco could be seen across the field, cracking his knuckles in an attempt to look intimidating.  While his Quidditch record would ordinarily frighten a Seeker such as yourself, you knew the real Draco, and he didn’t scare you one bit.  

A booming “brooms up!” echoed through the pitch, and immediately you flew directly to the top of the pitch, looking down at the whizzing flashes of green like a cat peering attentively through a fishbowl.  

Draco soon joined you up at the top of the pitch, following your exact movements just as he had done before.  He spat, “Scared, Y/N?” almost identically to the last match.

“Wouldn’t you like to know?” you said with a knowing smile.  He playfully rolled his eyes at you, and the corners of his mouth raised to an adorable and goofy smile.  

“Remember, I won’t be going easy on you, even if things are different.  Just because I fancy you doesn’t-” he was quickly cut off by the shimmer of gold seen out of the corner of his eye.  His expensive and sleek black broom immediately flew him to the well-manicured grass that lined the ground of the pitch.

By the time you had caught up with the cocky Seeker, he was mere feet from the Snitch.  You quickly flew to his side so you two were parallel, both of your hands, which had been intertwined so many times before, now opposing each other in the battle for the elusive winged sphere.

It seemed the game that you and Draco had played against each other last time, which results you wished so desperately would repeat, was doomed to change.  He clashed his torso into yours harshly, in an attempt to throw you off.  

Instead of toppling off your broom, you tried to give him a taste of his own medicine; you felt your bones shake after jerking your body weight into him, but he looked as if he had only been hit with the force of a leaf languidly fluttering in the wind.

Draco emitted a snarl after you rammed into his side, but he was undaunted in his pursuit of the Snitch.  His pupils were practically glued to the medal-colored blur, which was darting rapidly in any direction it could.

You knew you couldn’t beat Draco this time.  At least, not like how you had been playing so far.  Your arm was too short, your broom too slow, so you used the last of what little energy you had within yourself to pelt all of yourself, including your heart, at him. 

Instead of colliding into your green-glad admirer as you intended, you were only met with the cold and terrifying emptiness of oxygen.  

The ground felt so close, your tongue could almost taste the metallic copper bite of blood.  You could vividly see the way your side would slam into the spiky grass like a ragdoll, your bloodied nostrils filling with the smells of grass and the morning sun. You could envision players draped in uniforms of clashing hues dashing to your pain-ridden body, ready to carry you to Madame Pomfrey. 

But due to Draco Malfoy, that horrifying situation remained trapped only within the confines of your mind.  

You never thought you could love Draco as much as you did right now.  

His arms were outstretched and strong as you landed into them, light as a feather.  The blonde strands of hair that clung to his forehead in sweat and the unwavering confident look in his eyes drew you closer to him unconsciously.  His biceps, which were nicely toned due to his years of Quidditch, set you gently in front of him on his broom.

He wrapped one of his arms securely around your chest, which soothed your increasingly rapid racing heart exponentially.  His other arm was held high above his head, valiantly boasting the Snitch that resided within his glove-covered hands.

The crowd that resided in the green and grey towers of the pitch were erupting with joy.  You were almost too shocked from your near-fall to roll your eyes at his huge display of cockiness and pride, keyword being almost.  You leaned your head against his chest, listening to the ego-boosted beating of his heart, a stark contrast from your own.

The final moments before the two of you drifted to the ground were spent with him cheering in pride, and you taking comfort from his compassionate embrace.  And maybe you were wafting in a bit of his pleasant-smelling cologne, too.

----

Your house’s common room looked dreary and deflated, comparable only to that of a seven-year-old’s birthday party- where nobody bothered to show up.  While everyone was sympathetic for you, you couldn’t help but sense a slight tinge of resentment hidden beneath every soft pat on the back or obligatory smile.  

The Slytherin common room, however, was filled to the brim with its cunning house-members.  Firewhiskey was flowing through the crowd like pouring rain after centuries of drought.  The music was pounding so loud that the intricate chandeliers hanging from the top of the dungeon were shaking violently along with the beat. 

Draco and his posse stood at the corner of the alcohol-drenched room, leaning against the signature green walls, away from the large mob of partiers that had accumulated in the center.  

While the Firewhiskey normally would have clouded the blonde’s head by now, tonight his mind was crystal-clear.  

He couldn’t get Y/N out of his head, and frankly, he didn’t want to.  He should be focused on how utterly heroic he was during the Quidditch match or his huge victory for Slytherin.  But instead, he thought about how you felt under his arm, how your head softly rested on his chest.  It felt like the final puzzle piece had been placed, his love and need for you cemented.

He wouldn’t be able to live without your embrace again, he was sure of that, but maybe he wouldn’t even be able to last five more minutes.

He muttered a quick, “I’ll be back,” to his surrounding house-mates before shoving his green half-full cup of Firewhiskey into one of their hands.  He walked confidently through the mob of intoxicated partiers towards the enchanted stone wall exit.  

His eyes darted around the corridor as he paced towards your common room.  You wouldn’t be found in your common room, however, for the sulking of your house-mates was too much to bear.  

You instead could be found seated at a desk in the library, channeling your pent-up guilt from your performance at the Quidditch match into vigorously studying for a Potions exam on Monday.  

Your beat-up textbook was littered with dog-eared pages and bookmarks scribbled with helpful messages; it lay open on the page for Amortentia.  Your hand gripped your quill tightly, carving notes onto your piece of parchment.  Your eyes were briskly darting from one word to the next.

You were so wrapped up in your work that you didn’t notice that Draco had taken a seat next to you, enraptured in your presence.  His elbow lay pressed on the desk, head in his hand.  Your concentration was broken with a clear of his throat, followed by, “Hey darling, what’re you doing?”

“I’m studying,” you said, before adding meekly, “for Potions.”

“Oh love, you know I could’ve helped you,” he said with a disappointed smile.  His eyebrows furrowed as he flipped through your notes, noticing you were writing about the infamous love potion.  You let the quill in your hand go, letting your hand melt under Draco’s large palm. 

In an attempt to cheer you up, he said, “You know, I have a hunch on what I would smell in Amortentia, want to know what it is?” you nodded, “tea, warm autumn’s breeze, and maybe the faint smell of sweaty Quidditch robes.”

You let out a small laugh, adorning your now-pink face with a genuine smile.  “You know what I would smell?  Expensive cologne, green apples, and maybe a bit of sweetness under a cold exterior.”

“I’m not sweet, but if I was it’d only be for you,” Draco said with a sarcastic grumble.  

You looked up at Draco, who simply let his eyes take in all of you, adoring every single angle of your body.  The loving look in his eyes was enough to make your heart explode; your legs felt like jelly and your heart was beating out of your chest so loudly, you were sure he could hear it.

And soon he could, as his body grew slowly closer and closer to yours.  You pressed your forehead against his’, his molten silver eyes piercing through your own.  

Finally, after moments of staring longingly at each other, you tugged his green and grey pin-striped tie in for a kiss.

----

(Bonus) Epilogue:

The Three Broomsticks was filled to the brim with students from the Wizarding School across the bend.  Tables were littered with half-drank glasses of butterbeer; a few students could be seen snogging in the back booths of the tavern.  

You sat across from Draco Malfoy, your amazing boyfriend, as he rambled endlessly about Potter.  You weren’t listening to a word about the famous Gryffindor, instead, you were watching the way his lips articulated every word that spilled from his mouth.

“Right, darling?” Draco asked expectantly.

You nodded supportively.  Draco, instead of looking satisfied, quizzically asked, “so you think I should poor my butterbeer all over your head?  I’d be happy to.”

“Sorry, I wasn’t listening.  You just look so good when you talk, I got distracted.”

“It’s fine, love.  Well, I’m glad we finally got to go to Hogsmeade together.”

“After three months too!  Why couldn’t you have taken me sooner?” you asked overdramatically, tugging on your bag full of sweets from Honeydukes.  

“I’m sorry, but I seem to recall it’s your fault.  Study, Quidditch, study, Quidditch, study, Quiddit-”

“Okay, okay.  I get it.  I’m just not as naturally smart as you, Mister Potions Master.”  You rolled your eyes as he grinned at his title.

“Do you only flatter me so I do your essays for you?  Because if so, I hate to admit it’s working.”  He tucked a loose piece of your hair out of your face and behind your ear tenderly.

“Oh, Draco.  You don’t need to know.”  You fiddled with the silver serpent necklace that hangs around your neck that had been kissed so many times.  

You were head over heels for Draco.  Luckily, you were all his, and you would be forever. 

#draco #dating draco malfoy #draco fluff #draco fanfiction #draco malfoy #draco malfoy fanfic #draco malfoy x reader #draco malfoy fanfiction #draco malfoy fluff #draco malfoy x y/n #draco fuckingmalfoy #draco fic #draco lucius malfoy #draco imagine #draco malfoy x you #draco x reader #draco x y/n #draco x you #dracos girlfriend #dracomalfoyxreader #dracomalfoy #hogwarts #harry potter fanfiction #harry potter

[ocean-in-my-rebel-soul]

Handmade Hearts

A sweet, fluffy commission for @tea42, featuring their genderfluid Jurian Hawke (he/they) and Anders! Also, bonus Merrill and Anders friendship!

Handmade Hearts (read on AO3)

Characters/Relationships: Genderfluid!Hawke/Anders, Merrill & Anders

Rating: T

Words: 2,632

Tags: Knitting, fluff, romantic fluff

Anders learns to knit and finds it extremely rewarding.

The fire burns cheerfully in the main room of Merrill’s home, keeping warm against the rainy day outside. Dried herbs and flowers scattered upon the cinders perfume the air with a delicate sweetness, the perfect accompaniment to the long-cold tea set and a small plate of cookies that sit on the table between Anders and the hearth. The snaps and crackles of the hearth break up the quietness of the room; Merrill hums from her bedroom, the open door letting it float to his ears where he sits on the sofa.

Anders readjusts the deep red working yarn over his hand. He can’t help the way his hands want to cramp, or that his tongue sticks out from between his teeth. A length of lumpy knitting drapes from between the four needles, something that might become a sock but is still yet far from it. Frowning, he calls out, “Are you sure I’m doing this right?”

“Hm?” Merrill pops her head out through the doorway. “Oh, I’m sure you are,” she says airily, dismissing his worry with a wave of her hand. “You are an excellent student, Anders.”

“‘Excellent student’ my arse,” Anders mutters. He’s half-tempted to rip it all apart and start over. Again. The motley yarn is relatively soft but inconsistently spun, a fact he’s been wrestling with for hours. “You didn’t see me in the Circle.”

“You’re so smart, you couldn’t have done too badly.” She returns with a project of her own, a half-woven… something stretched out on some sort of loom and an armload of small yarn balls. Merrill sits on the floor beside him and sets her contraption up against the table. It’s built of scraps, small bits of wood tacked and nailed together into a frame and the various other bits of it. Thin strings run the length of it and hold up a section of the variegated blue weave.

He watches her from over his misshapen sock. You couldn’t have done too badly. If only that were the half of it, he thinks, but he keeps that locked tight behind his teeth. No need to drag her down with him, or any of them, for that matter. Anders has tried to let go of the fierce jealousy, the rage that simmers in his gut when he thinks about it too hard, but it just sits there and curdles. He had overheard once, from the whispers of templars too loose with their tongues, that the Dalish mages were wild, almost feral; that they were simply too dangerous to try to bring into the Circle. Apparently, a friend of a friend of a colleague of someone they’d trained with had been killed by a Dalish clan when they tried to capture one of their young mages, and to hear it told in the frigid corridors of the Kinloch Circle, the clan had sent that knight back to the Circle in a crate.

Merrill smiles to herself absently as she threads the shuttle through the warps, building up the next row of soft blue. It’s so serene, too much so compared to the way he’d watched her suffocate a man to death with thick, thorny vines just the week before. He’s very glad for the tenuous olive branch of peace between them, more for Jurian’s sake than anything, but he’s still glad.

“Oh, you’re holding it too tightly,” she murmurs.

Anders jolts back into himself to find her frowning softly at his knitting. Dismayed, he sees exactly where he’d gone wrong; the thin yarn draws the already bumpy fabric into a bunched-up wrinkle, and he’s let the stitches slip and go wonky. Anders tosses the mess onto the sofa behind him and buries his face in his hands, fighting down the urge to scream. “I am a Maker-damned surgeon,” he bites out. “Why can’t I get this?”

The sofa shifts and creaks when she perches upon it. “I think we can fix it,” she says, like it’s easy, and Anders peeks out from behind his hands. Merrill picks up the discarded sock, or what this third attempt tries to pass as being a sock, and eyes it, prodding here and poking there. Her deft fingers wrangle it back to being mostly flat, not a small victory. She realigns the knitting needles for him before handing it all back.

“Here,” she says, and Merrill takes his hands in hers. The shallow scars that mar her palms press into the backs of his hands. It’s an immense effort not to shudder at the way they brush his skin as she repositions his fingers over the needles and shifts the working yarn. “There, that should help.”

He looks dubiously at his project but works the next stitch, then the next, and then the next, until he’s got another row down. “Oh,” he says, relieved, “that actually does help. Thank you.” When Anders looks up, Merrill wears a soft expression, a tiny little smile so different than the one she usually wears for him. “You’re really good at this,” Anders mutters. He looks away, unable to take in the surprised gratitude in her expression, knowing that he’s rarely as kind as he could be, should be toward her and too cowardly to admit it.

Anders puts the haggard sock down long enough to trace small glyphs upon his palms with his fingertips and grabs the cold ceramic teapot from the table. He focuses intently on his hands and a moment later warmth builds; in the span of a few breaths the tea is hot again. Merrill watches him from the corner of her eye as she works on her own weaving, and when he pours her a fresh cup, she smiles brightly at him.

It’s a new, fragile peace, but it’s theirs, for as long as he can manage it. They sit and chat and work into the late afternoon and Merrill eventually teaches him how to finish it, to wrangle the messy bits into a semblance of proper, useful purpose. It isn’t until night truly approaches and the rain pours down in sharp, heavy sheets that he packs away his project. He leaves with a bag heavy with his gifted supplies and a heart all the lighter for it.

-------

“That’s almost right,” Anders mutters to himself, relaxing further into the plush cushions of the sofa. His hair is still damp from the frantic walk back to the estate, but he’s long forgotten the dwindling flames of the hearth. He slips the last few stitches off his needles and reworks them, only to sigh and pull them apart again. Anders frowns at the pinched area in question. “How did she do that, again…?”

A voice breaks through the quiet solitude of the den. “What are you working on, love?”

Anders scrambles and drops the half-finished sock altogether in his fumbling. Jurian leans over the back of the sofa to hug him from behind, their chin resting on his shoulder. “Knickerweasels, Jurian, you surprised me!” Anders tilts his head to rub their cheeks together, the stretch a bit awkward for a kiss but still wanting the contact. “Didn’t expect you back yet.”

“Got home early. Mind if I join you?” Jurian murmurs. They lay a kiss on his temple and round the couch when he nods, reclining against the arm to watch him.

“Well, it seems the cat’s already out of the bag.” He retrieves the wayward sock from the floor and shows it off. “Your birthday’s coming up, and I thought…” He trails off at the way Jurian stares, blank-faced, at the sock. “I thought it’d be nice to make you something,” Anders finishes weakly, unsure. “A—a surprise.”

Jurian lets out a shaky sigh. “Come here?”

Anders goes immediately, and Jurian’s arms are strong and secure where they wrap around his ribs and hold him to their chest. “What’s that face for?” he asks against their collarbone. “Do you not like it?”

They nuzzle his hair, and they’re so quiet that Anders can hear their heartbeat. “It’s been a while since anyone made me something, let alone for a birthday,” Jurian eventually says. They hum. “I think… I think maybe it was Bethy; she knit a scarf for me, the winter before the blight.”

“That was years ago…”

“Yeah,” they mutter. “Mother… Mother would make us things through the year—scarves, socks, mittens, things like that. But after Father died… She got so busy, selling her skills to the others in town. Mother’s a rather brilliant embroiderer, you know, and she took to other fiber crafts like a fish to water. But she got so busy that she was tired, all the time. It was all she could do to keep up with the work, it was hard enough to take care of us.” They pause. “I don’t mean she wasn’t a good mother, but… She just wasn’t the same after Father died.”

“So Bethany took on that job.”

“Pretty much. Carver enlisted in the militia as soon as he was old enough; it was good money and good training, and no one could blame him. I had to run the house when Mother couldn’t and so I took a job closer to home, to keep an eye on things.”

To keep an eye on Bethany, Jurian doesn’t say, but Anders hears it all the same.

Anders presses a row of kisses along the column of their throat. “You deserve all the softest things, Jurian,” he murmurs into their skin. “You deserve everything.” Anders pulls back, not quite lifting from where he lay draped across their chest, just enough to shyly look them in the face. “Do you want to see them? I’ve finished the first one. You could—could try it on, if you wanted. Actually, if you could make sure it fits, that would be great.”

Jurian kisses the tip of Anders’ nose. “I’d love that.”

Anders gets up from his comfy perch and reaches over the couch to snag his project bag. He yelps; Jurian’s hand rubs against his rear, soothing the playful smack they’d just left as he bent over. “You’re a menace, my love,” Anders laughs, and he leans back into the plush cushions. He fishes the finished sock from the bag; the main red coloring is deep, almost more black than anything else, but it’s offset by streaks of gold-ish yellow that Merrill had helped him with. “It’s a little… rough,” he allows. “The yarn is mostly scraps and discards. And I’m not very good yet—”

“It’s perfect,” Jurian whispers, taking it in hand. Their fingers rub against the wool; it’s still a little scratchy, at least to Anders’ sensitive skin. The sock crushes in their hand and comes out just fine, and Anders smiles.

“Try it on?” he coaxes.

Jurian snorts but dutifully takes off their slipper and rolls up the leg of their trousers. Anders isn’t sure who’s more nervous as they slide it on, himself or Jurian, but it’s worth the nerves to see the way Jurian’s face lights up at the way it sits halfway up their calf. “It’s beautiful,” they say. “Perfect. Just like you, Anders.”

A warmth builds in Anders’ chest at that, and he blushes, looking away to dodge the weight of their quiet declaration. “I—well. Not perfect, certainly, but—”

“No.” Jurian shifts to face him. Their brow pinches and a soft frown pulls at their mouth. “My love, I cannot help the way you feel about yourself,” they start, and they crawl forward, slowly pressing Anders onto his back. “But please don’t try to qualify my feelings for you.” One hand holds a position just above Anders’ head and the other clutches the arm of the couch behind him. They lean down. “I say you are perfect because to me you are perfect.”

Anders sighs into the kiss. Jurian’s weight above him makes the fluttery thing in his gut settle. His hands wind into Jurian’s hair, anchoring them together, and the pressure of teeth nipping at his bottom lip draws a moan from him. It’s not rushed, it’s not frantic, but it is thorough—teeth and lips and tongue, hot, scorching breath and soft gasps that hitch between them. He wraps his legs around Jurian’s own, hooking his knees over the back of their thighs, but Jurian doesn’t stop the slow, methodical work of taking him apart.

It’s too much. It’s not enough. It’s lightning in his veins, velvet on his skin. He makes a noise, a punched-out little whine, at the blissful sensory overload. They part enough for Anders to nudge his forehead against Jurian’s own, and the face they make is so sweet it makes him ache. Anders has to fight to gather his thoughts again, cheeks flushing at the way Jurian lay between his thighs. “You drive me crazy,” he groans. Jurian grins and bends to dust light kisses just at the edges of his mouth.

“Good,” they say, “means I’m doing something right.” The breath of their gentle chuckle is warm against Anders’ reddened cheeks. “Thank you.”

It takes Anders a full ten seconds to place what for. He follows Jurian’s wandering mouth and kisses them sweetly, his hands coming up to cup their face. His thumb drags along the rise of their cheekbone. “You deserve it,” Anders murmurs. “I mean it. You deserve it, and more, more than some socks—and I promise to make you everything I can, to take care of you the best I can. But you’re welcome, for the socks.”

“You do, too, love.” They smile and lean down to press kisses along his hairline, over his brow, along the ridge of his nose. Their lips brush over every inch of his face before returning to his mouth and Anders can’t feel anything over the sheer vastness of everything blooming in his chest, security and desire and yearning and things he can’t even begin to name feeding the growing warmth in his belly when Jurian next speaks. “And I’m going to show you, care for you, in every way I know how.”

His breath escapes him with a shuddering sigh at the low promise. “Ah, you keep talking like that and I won’t be able to get anything done on the other sock…”

Jurian hums against his cheek. “I think maybe we can be done with knitting for the night?” they suggest, nosing along his jaw. Jurian presses a kiss just below the hinge of Anders’ jaw. “Haven’t seen you in three days. I missed you.”

“A dreadfully long time, that,” Anders wheezes. His hands clench in Jurian’s hair and it’s a hard decision, staying like this or following the possibility in their words. The anticipation wins out, helped by the desire that simmers in Jurian’s gaze. His heart thumps painfully in his chest. “I think I’m a bit knitted out, actually. Think I can be persuaded into something else.”

Jurian laughs at that. They help Anders off the couch and wrap him in their arms again. “You’re going to be mismatched until I finish the other one, you know,” he says helpfully, and Jurian grins.

“I’m not worried.” They brush their noses together in a butterfly kiss. “You can take your time. I can wait.”

“I can’t,” Anders murmurs, catching Jurian’s gaze meaningfully. He looks off in the direction of the stairs and back in open invitation, and it takes exactly two seconds for Jurian to walk him backward toward the door. Together they manage to stumble from the den, draped along each other, arms wrapped around ribcages, unwilling to part even for a moment as they make their way upstairs. Anders leads them into the bedroom and closes the door behind him with a satisfied sigh.

“Now,” he says, cupping Jurian’s jaw, “let me show you how much I missed you.”

#Handers #Hawke #Anders #Genderfluid!Hawke #Dragon Age 2 #DA2 #fanfic #fanfiction #commissions #writing commissions #ocean writes #soulrebel writes #reblogs comments and likes welcome and highly appreciated! thank you!