#Nox just Sighs | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

ibbythebee · 7 months

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Hospital Wing Hermits

gif credit: @handknit on wattpad

pairing: Neville Longbottom x year younger!reader

summary: From Neville's second year at Hogwarts to his last, his most memorable times with you have been spent in the hospital wing.

genre: fluffiness all round, slight angst at the end... but only a little, slow-burny

warnings: this fic is so soft that you will potentially combust, slight swearing, SO MUCH hand holding, the reader is an oblivious goofball until she's not, kissing, talks about illnesses and injuries, blood and boogers

words: 6k

masterlist

»»————-　⌁　————-««

Neville's 2nd Year

Clutching onto Madame Pomfrey is nothing new to Neville. In the middle of the night, however, is a different story. The Nurse coos whenever the boy makes the slightest sound of pain, holding him up as not to put anymore pressure on his right foot.

"We're just about there, dear. Come on, just a few more steps..."

Leading him to the middle of the hospital wing's room, she then guides him onto an untouched bed, and immediately slides a pillow underneath his ankle. A spot of light on the opposite side of the room does not go unnoticed to either the woman or boy as soon as they had entered the room.

Neville rubs his eyes, squinting at the strange glowing mound of sheets. He watches as, with a sigh, Madame Pomfrey marches to the other preoccupied bed and pulls over the white covers to reveal you, a sheepish looking girl.

Under the light of your wand, your face looks puffy, lips and nose chapped, hair amuck. You cough into your elbow and smile a toothy innocent smile, batting your big eyes at the woman, silently pleading your innocence.

Pomfrey, however, does not play games. "Turn off that incessant light, Miss L/N. Do you realise what time it is?"

Your lips shape into a pout, voice stuffy as you answer. "But Madame Pomfrey, it's so boring here. I'm bored."

"No, you should be asleep. Turn that off right now. I don't want to have to send another owl to your mother about you refusing medical help."

"Just a few more minutes please? I'll finish the page I'm reading."

"Absolutely not. It's basic manners and respect for your fellow peer." She motions to Neville, and you finally turn to him.

Despite the fatigue in your features, your eyes seem to glow, piercing through the dark room. Perhaps it's just his lack of sleep or absence of light, but there is something drawing him to you and he fails to look away. Nothing comes out of his mouth even though he knows he's probably supposed to greet you, but neither do you.

A second longer you stare at your new roommate and in eventual defeat, you pout. The light from your wand fades, as you mumble 'nox' under your breath and get comfortable under the blankets.

Satisfied, Madame Pomfrey clears the rubbish bin underneath your bed and turns back to Neville handing him a small flask of some sort of healing potion.

"All right. Off to bed now both of you. Good night, dears."

You both mutter a 'goodnight', closing your eyes, gingerly pulling the covers up to your chins.

It stays mostly quiet in the room, apart from the Nurse's shuffling. Though as time passes, shoes click and click away, and then the door creaks shut.

"Psst!"

Neville stirs.

"Hey, psst!"

"Huh?" Is all Neville can manage, lifting his head with a groggy squint.

"What happened to you?" You ask in a loud whisper and sniffle. Sitting straight, and staring right at him. Your eyes really are big, inquisitive.

"Well I... twisted my ankle," he finally says.

"How?"

"I... I'd rather not say. It's embarrassing, really."

"I won't tell anyone," you say as-a-matter-of-factly. "You can hex me if I do."

He looks at you through narrow eyes again and this time it's your teeth that glow. As you show no interest in falling asleep, Neville's neck admits defeat and his head crashes back down onto the pillow. "Can we just please go to sleep?"

"I caught a cold... or maybe a fever. Runny nose—" you sniff, wiping your face with your pajama sleeve "—wet cough, high temperature. My mum says I have a weak immune system."

"Well, that's not very good, is it?" He comments half-heartedly to the ceiling.

"No, it isn't."

Silence. For a moment, he believes that you've finally surrendered yourself.

"So how'd you twist your ankle in the middle of the night?"

Never mind.

"You don't seem like a rule-breaker," you say.

He carefully shuffles up to sit and sighs. Where on earth did you get your energy from? He hadn't met such a talkative first year before.

Neville takes a moment to answer, debating on whether or not you're harmless enough for him to be vulnerable. "I had a nightmare, okay? I fell off my bed and... landed badly."

"Well, that's not very good, is it?" You echo.

"No, it isn't."

Silence once again ensues, but this time Neville's ready for your chatterbox mouth.

"What's your name? I'm..." You suddenly stop and he nearly laughs when your silhouette jerks and you sneeze. It's loud, like his Gran.

"Nice to meet you, Achoo." He chuckles, holding a hand over his mouth.

You sniff again, face hot in a new wave of humiliation, and this time you wipe your face with more aggression. "Hey, that's not funny! My name is — A-ACHHHOO!"

"Isn't that what I just said?" He can't help but laugh again. Relishing in the groan you emit and how furiously you blow your nose.

With a poke of your tongue, you retort. "Whatever, Mr... mm... Fall-out-of-bed...n-nightmare-broken-ankle-boy."

"Wow, that's really fantastic, Achoo." He slides back down into his bed, closing his eyes with content and tries to hold in his giggles as you continue with determination to clear up your mistake.

Initially, Neville thought he wouldn't even be able to get in a nap, but now with the understanding that you bark more than you bite, he creates a silly image of you in the form of a puppy. As your voice rings in the background, the puppy image barks with you, and he feels his eyes grow heavy, falling into a content and nightmare-less sleep.

»»————-　⌁　————-««

Neville’s 4th Year

Ever since sleeping the night in the hospital wing, Neville knew he'd be seeing more of you. It was surprising to him that he hadn't noticed you before that night, especially seeing as you were such a social butterfly. And despite being in the year below, he'd always manage to catch your eyes in the Great Hall. And in the courtyard. And in the halls. And through a classroom window. You were everywhere and anywhere. And when you weren't, you were in bed in the hospital wing.

Just like you are now. The fourteen-year-old hadn't seen you for the past few weeks after the first task of the Triwizard Tournament, and needless to say, he had to see you.

And such a perfect opportunity had arose today, albeit a painful one, but an opportunity none the less.

Neville opens the door to the wing as gently as possible as not to wake you, however knowing you, you probably already were.

Entering the room, he clutches his sore hand to his ribs and cranes his neck to spot the nurse. Instead he finds your lying form under a mountain of blankets.

You stir, and Neville curses at his shoes for making so much noise. Sure, his intention of coming here was to see you, but he’d seldom seen you in such a peaceful state and didn’t want to ruin that for you.

“Neville?” He hears you say and then you’re facing him.

He smiles down at you, with a voice just as soft as silk. "Hey, Achoo. Didn't mean to wake you. How you feeling?”

“I’m feeling alright. Kinda headache-y, but fine. Ugh, what time is it?” You rub your eyes and stretch as you sit up.

The messiness of your bed-hair is incredibly endearing and the curve in Neville’s lips only grow at the sight.

“It’s third period.”

“Then… what are you doing here? Are you hurt?”

You’re suddenly on your feet, eyes round and wide, taking in the scene of the tall boy. He flinches, attempting to hide his hand in his robe sleeve.

You snatch his hand, bringing it close to your face. It’s a burn. All over the back of his palm. "Bloody hell— Where's Madame Pomfrey?"

"I was about to ask you the same question." A small chuckle falls from his lips as you examine him. Somehow, in some miracle he watches your big eyes grow larger as you twist his hand, move his long fingers to get as much information about his wound.

He feels like he’s going crazy, your touch is a new kind of burn on his skin. It doesn’t sting, but it is hot. And you don’t even know you’re causing it.

"She's always gone when you actually need her,” you huff.

"It's not as bad as it looks, really. Just hurts a little when I move it."

"What about when I...?" You drift off, as you slide a delicate thumb over his beet-red knuckles.

The tips of his ears turn the same shade of red. "Stings."

With no further words, he lets you pull him to one corner of the hospital wing, searching for a particular ointment on the many shelves of medical supplies. You don't let go of his hand, and he doesn't dare pull away.

"Let me guess how it happened—" you say, grabbing a round jar of blue gel to read the label.

"Seamus." You both state and then share a laugh.

Placing the jar back, you continue your search and Neville fills the comfortable silence. "It's Potions class. For once I thought I was doing pretty decent and then next thing I know, Seamus' cauldron blows up next to me and of course I get the damage."

His hand is held up to your face again and he watches as you grab a new jar with a less solid looking gel, creamy in colour.

"I suppose it's a good way for me to get out of the rest of the class," he shrugs.

"And get away from Snape," you quip and earn a chuckle from him. There was a time in Neville’s third year, when you had come to learn about his amusing boggart. He’d snuck into the hospital wing, claiming he had a nasty headache and ended up staying the night, neither of you getting a wink of sleep. It had also been revealed that the thing you were most frightened of was giants.

“Sit down,” your motioning to the mattress behind him.

He does so without question, still attached to you by your pinkie, making himself comfortable on the edge of a neatly tucked bed. He follows your every action as you place the ointment jar beside his thigh and open the lid. You scoop a teaspoon amount with your fingers and lifted his burnt hand again.

Before the cream touches his burn, you begin to tell him about what illness you've caught today and he barely feels the sting of the medicine. There's no better spell or potion to kill pain than your voice, that much was evident even back when he first met you.

Concentration laces your features and unbeknownst to you, your hips hit the edge of the mattress, unaware to the fact that Neville's knees are on either side of you.

The sight of you between him for some reason makes it difficult for him to swallow. The urge to trap you with his legs increases by the second. "Hey, Y/N?"

You wipe off excess ointment on your pajama top and turn your attention to him. He rarely called you by your first name. Something's up.

"Yeah?"

"Well, the erm... You know in a week or so?"

"Mhm?"

There's a pause as he searches your eyes for confidence, then he finally announces. "Would you say you're a good dancer?"

Creases form between your brows and you pout at the question, really thinking it over. If there was anything else Neville had learnt about you was that you always answered his queries with great interest and thought. You never treat his questions as though they're dumb, and he’s come to adore you for that.

As you ponder, he slides his non-burnt hand under yours, idly fiddling with your delicate fingers; tracing around the length of them, lifting them up and dropping them one by one, and eventually laying his palm flat on top of yours. Were his hands always this big?

The tips of your fingers tap-tap against his, as you finally answer. "I suppose... I would like to think I am."

"Well... that's good to hear."

"What about you?"

"Oh me?" He finds your face and swallows thickly. "I've been practicing lately, so I can only hope I've improved."

A giggle breaks free from your lips and it’s music to his ears. "Practicing? Whatever for?"

"The Yule Ball, of course."

"The..." The creases near your brows form again. "I've completely forgotten about that."

He squeezes a finger of yours. "So, no one's asked you yet?"

You sneeze into your elbow and then for a second time, and your voice becomes stuffy to the amusement of Neville. "Asked me what?"

"Asked you to be their date, of course."

"Oh. No." Scoffing. "Being stuck in here means no social-life. And besides—" You spin around quick to grab a roll of bandage, and gingerly flatten it over his burn "—who's gonna want to dance with someone who sneezes every five minutes?"

"I would."

"That's what I thought — wait... you would?"

In an effort to look nonchalant, Neville shrugs, finding interest in a bird that's flying near the window. The tips of his ears poking out of his shaggy hair are giving you a different response, they're blushing.

You finish with his wound and step away from the bed, fingers feeling cold when you let go of him.

Upon inspection of your medical handiwork, he smiles gently. He hadn't felt a thing. "Thanks for this."

"I... I can't guarantee that I'll be completely healthy that day," you say.

"The Yule Ball?"

You nod in an almost embarrassed way, as you fiddle with the collar of your sleeping clothes.

Neville just shakes his head. "The suit my Gran got for me has a lot of pockets so I’ll carry all your tissues for you. Or anything else you might need, I'll keep them for you."

"That'sssss.... ACHHU!"

"Bless you. So what do you say? Would you... want to go with me? Maybe? I promise not to step on your feet."

"Miss L/N?! What on earth are you doing out of bed?!"

"MADAME POMFREY!" You both exclaim, faces and necks feeling hot.

"Come on, dear, why don't you ever follow simple orders?!"

Mumbles of pathetic protest fall from your lips as the woman drags you back to the other side of the room. You knock into Neville’s knee on the way and so he’s quick to follow behind you with his own incoherent babble about the burn on his hand.

You're settled under the blankets once again and watch as the nurse's eyes bulge at the sight of the tall boy's perfectly cared for palm. She inspects the bandage, inquires about the pain and what the cause was, all while Neville can't keep the flushed look off his face.

"She— well... Y/N helped me out. It doesn't hurt anymore, I'm fine now, Ma'am."

As the said woman keeps a hold of his hand, she turns to you with daggers. "What did you use? A potion? Spell, perhaps? Mr Longbottom could have severe side-effects if you're not careful."

"He won't," you grin toothily as you did back in your first year and point to the shelf in the right corner. "I used the ointment that you gave Theodore Nott not that long ago. Haha, Nott not."

Neville stifles a laugh, and isn't surprised when the nurse doesn't question you further. You might be the only student that can get away with arguing with Madame Pomfrey.

The nurse's face instead takes the form of an appreciative and impressed expression. It's only natural that with your ‘weak immune system’, you've gained as much medical knowledge as you have colds and flus.

"I'll admit, you've done a splendid job with Neville. However, you simply cannot use whatever you like, whenever you like, on whomever you like. Next time this happens you need to wait for me to return, alright? Is that understood?"

Taking a glance at Neville's sheepish state, you sigh and nod in response.

"And Neville dear, don't encourage this behaviour. Especially not from Miss L/N."

"Okay, Ma'am."

She gives the boy a goodbye and immediately turns to you, a full on lecture spilling from her mouth. He isn’t supposed to leave yet, not when he’s just finally had the courage to ask you out.

Neville finds your helpless gaze behind the woman’s shoulder, and sends you a sad sort of smile before turning on his heel to get to the door.

"I-I'll go with you!" You yell.

The tall boy pauses, heart flipping at your words.

"To the Yule Ball."

There’s no stopping the grin that forms, and he finally nods after a second, hair shaking with the action.

Your eyes speak to him as your own smile appears.

Meanwhile, the woman huffs and puffs, cleaning the area around your bed. "Not in this state, you won't."

»»————-　⌁　————-««

Neville's 5th Year

The last time Neville was in the hospital wing, he'd come to talk to you about his recent endeavours in Herbology and let slip that he's been secretly practicing defensive magic with a group of other students, being taught by none other than Harry himself. There was no doubt that you would also be trusted enough to join, however seeing as you were once again bed-ridden, it felt best to keep it a secret until you got better.

Now it wasn't a secret anymore, and each time he'd visit you'd ask him to put in a good word with Harry, with the group. Neville always said he would, but he never did, fearing that Professor Umbitch would eventually catch onto you and you'd have to pay the ultimate price.

Karma is an Umbitch, however, and now it looks as if the only answer to Neville's current predicament is to let you join Dumbledore's Army, despite all his worries and his efforts to stop you from doing that.

Today’s DA training has been cut short, due to the fact that the fifteen-year old is now incapacitated. Blood refusing to slow down from his nose.

Going to Madame Pomfrey would've required him to come up with a believable story as to what happened, so the next best thing was to send for you, someone who already knows about this secret group.

"Neville!" A Ravenclaw boy shouts, interrupting his thoughts. "Your Bogey Bug is here— ow!"

Someone smacks the kid, and then suddenly the Weasley twins are leading you into the Room of Requirement. You stand over him, adorning new pajamas he hadn't seen before.

"Hey Achoo," he weakly smiles. "Thanks for coming."

The DA gather around, as you crouch to his side and immediately take the cloth he's been holding to his nose. You make a face at him. “Oh Neville… what are we going to do with you?”

A fresh line of blood rolls down to his lip, so you let him leave the fabric there to sink it in.

"Keep your head steady, okay? Don't lean back, just let the blood flow for now."

"I think my nose might be broken?"

"Neville, I swear to..." your head spins sharply, and a few students flinch. "Who did this?"

"We were practicing stupefy," the familiar voice of Seamus answers and immediately your tense shoulders relax seeing his face emerge behind the twins. "I didn't mean to. I swear, Y/N."

"He really didn't mean to," Neville echoes.

You sneeze into your elbow and shake your head, palm making contact with your cheek. "See, this is why you should’ve told me about this secret army group thing so I could've joined and stopped something like this from happening.”

"I'm sorry."

You take Neville's hand again and lift the cloth, checking over the damage. There is damage, alright. You try not to make a show of wincing, fearing that the brown-haired boy would get anxious by your reaction, but his nose really does look quite out of sorts. Out of line. Broken.

He realises you haven't said a word in a while and smiles again, "you can fix, can't you, Achoo?"

"I told Neville I could treat him, but he kept refusing and insisted for your presence," Luna's soft voice interrupts as she crouches down beside you.

Someone amongst the crowd starts to coo and the tips of Neville's ears manage to turn beet red, more so when you turn your attention to him, expression unreadable.

Luna carries on, eyes focused on you. "He wouldn't let anyone touch him. Not until now, anyway."

"Okay!" A sudden clap startles even Luna, and you all turn to the perpetrator. Harry Potter's back is turned to your direction as he addresses the crowd, "I think we'll call it a day. Neville needs his strength and so do you."

The crowd murmurs, exchanging pouts and disappointed shrugs.

"Be proud of yourselves, you all did brilliantly today. Each and every one of you have improved. Next time we get to meet we'll continue with the Patronus Charm."

"What about Bogey Bug? How do we know she's not gonna rat us out?" A girl in Hufflepuff asks.

Neville sees you stand up, slapping a hand over your chest. "I swear on my life and the life of Neville—."

"Hey!"

"—that I will not snitch on this group or expose any of you. I promise to be loyal and keep my mouth shut about this."

Some faces don't seem convinced, as more murmurs and chatter erupt.

"She can be our nurse!" Neville exclaims, stealing everyone's attention. It's time to put in that good word for you. "We won't have to go to the hospital wing if Achoo— I mean, Y/N is here. She's really good at what she does. Plus, I accidentally told her about the army about a month ago and she hasn't told a soul since. I do..."

Your big eyes soften when he turns to you.

"...I trust her with my life."

"All right then," Harry claps once more. "All those in favour of Y/N becoming part of the army, raise your hand."

A few hands come up, whilst others whisper for a moment. One more, then four more, and then more hands raise faster than you can count them. You and the broken-nosed boy share grins, as you squeeze his free hand.

"That's it then. Y/N, welcome to Dumbledore's Army."

»»————-　⌁　————-««

Neville’s 6th year

Following the events of the previous year of school you and Neville had grown ever closer. Outside of the classroom you'd never be seen without the other. Inseparable. There'd even been a rumour going around that you were dating, but you always denied such claims and Neville could only comply. He hadn't yet told anyone about his feelings for you, although it seemed that those in his close circle were figuring it out on their own.

After having looked like a lost pygmy puff in the Great Hall, Luna found Neville and mentioned to him that you looked 'out of sorts' during class. He hadn't even asked about you. She just knew to tell him.

So, it’s only fitting for him to be by your side now, during lunch hour.

You’re shivering underneath all the sheets and blankets, and yet as Neville glides the back of his fingers across your forehead, you’re sweating as well.

“Hang in there Achoo, you’ll be fine in no time. The spell will take effect.”

You can only give so much as a nod, and groan when your lower abdomen tightens with a deep, stabbing ache.

“Shh,” Neville smooths his delicate fingers over your forehead again, tucking loose strands back to their place with the rest of your hair. “I'm here. Do you want me to distract you with anything?"

"Anything," you squeak, eyes shut tightly as if doing that would stop your cramps and make you fall asleep faster. "Please."

"Alright, erm..." He slides his tongue over his bottom lip and leans in closer to you, elbow pressing into the mattress. "I suppose I can tell you about a dream I had not long ago. You were in it."

"The Hippogriff one?" You tremble.

"No, this is a new one," he smiles when you meet his gaze, finding your fingers peeking through the sheets and taking them into his hands. "It's really stupid, as dreams usually go, but I really like it."

Your fingers are stretched out, as Neville begins to trace over your palm. First he draws a circle and you giggle a little at the feeling.

"This is me," he draws a triangle, "and this is you. It seems like any ordinary day, except you and I have the same classes. In the dream we're both popular. Everyone cheers for us when we get good marks, and even Professor Snape smiles at you."

"No way."

He laughs and traces a shape with lots of spikes. "Yes way. It really seems too good to be true, because there's even a moment where we successfully sneak out at night, we're just in our pajamas and we're watching the stars from the astronomy tower."

"I'm waiting for the 'but'."

"But — here comes the stupid part — you just start flying out of nowhere. One second you're next to me, the next you're just in the sky. I'm freaking out trying to reach for your hand, but you're just so calm about the fact that you mysteriously gained the ability to fly."

You're giggling again, especially as he slaps your palm a few times to emphasise the story. "Accurate reaction."

"And then it just ends with me being able to breath fire."

"What?" You laugh, brows pulling together in amusement. "I wonder what Professor Trelawney would say about that. What all of it might represent."

He draws a line on each of your fingers, slow and tickly. "If it's anything like I've been told before, it probably means bad luck."

"Well I was also in the dream with you, so we'll go through the bad luck together." To his surprise, you thread your fingers through his and squeeze. You're not trembling anymore, you haven't been for the past minute or so, and it doesn't feel like you're being stabbed over and over in the stomach.

"Think you can sleep now?" He asks, fingers hesitantly unravelling.

You nod, grinning at him, those eyes of yours finally shining as bright as they usually do.

"Want me to go get Madame Pomfrey?"

You shake your head. And then your arms are around his neck, head tucked in the space between your bicep and his jawline.

It feels like a millennium till he returns your gesture, arms securing around your waist and back, pulling you in tightly and desperately. The mix of the wing's clinical scent and the smell of baked desserts fills his nose. He could've sworn he'd smelt something like this during Potions class.

"Stay with me," you purr. "Please."

He knows he has class in ten minutes, he knows he can't skip, he knows he'll get in trouble.

So with your arms determined to remain wrapped around each other he bends over, moving till your head meets the pillow. He kicks off one of his school shoes. Then the other.

You feel his knees dip into the mattress beside your thighs, and then you have to part for a moment as he slips under the blankets, his head settling on the pillow right beside yours.

When he's comfortable, you take one of his hands and lower it until he brushes over your clothed belly.

Keeping the heat from entering his ears and cheeks is impossible, as his hand flattens over your stomach, shock evident in his features from your bold action.

"Could you keep it there?" You say, when you feel his uncertainty. "It'll help if the cramps come back." Your own hands smooth over his, trapping him there.

"I will." He swallows thickly. "Are you comfortable?"

You nod. "Are you?"

"Absolutely. Yes. I am."

A content breath passes your lips and you smile, all giddy like, at the ceiling. "Thank you for being here. For being with me always. For not making fun of me being sick all the time. Not calling me Bogey Bug. For... for just being you. For being my most favourite person ever."

"I could really say the same about you." Both your voices are barely above a whisper, seeing as your faces are so close together.

"Thanks Neville," you turn to him, and tap the back of his hand on your belly.

You stare at each other for a moment, and for some reason it doesn't feel wrong. It's not awkward.

Neville breaks the silence. "You... you know how everyone keeps saying that we're... you know going out?"

"Yeah."

Neville pauses for a second, you're staring so intensely, pupils large and beautiful. He tries to swallow past the lump in his throat and squeezes the material of your clothes. He can talk to you, he can ask you the question. He's battled against Bellatrix Lestrange before, he's been put in Gryffindor for a reason. He can ask you. "What do you say we make those rumours... not rumours anymore?"

The corners of your mouth twitch. "You-You mean... you mean like...?"

"Yes. Like that. Like... I want to spend the rest of my life with you, sort of way."

You don't say anything.

He continues, with a small bite of his lip. "Like... I'm completely mad for you and if I don't tell you now I don't think I'll ever get the chance to again."

"This... isn't a dream, is it?"

"Can I prove to you this isn't a dream?"

"Okay."

And it really feels like a dream, as his face leans in and you feels his lips press against the corner of your mouth.

"Did that help?" he whispers.

You twist around to lay on your side, guiding Neville's big hand up to your waist. "You missed, Neville."

"What?"

"You missed."

This time you both lean in, and this time Neville doesn't miss.

»»————-　⌁　————-««

Neville’s 7th year

The last Horcrux has been destroyed, Voldemort's killed, the Death Eaters have fled. New life has been brought to Hogwarts, sun pooling through the shattered windows of the Great Hall.

People sit on broken stools, torn and ashy blankets, chatter quiet and solemn. A few people manage to tell jokes and liven the mood, others cuddle, kiss, crying tears of relief. Nurses scamper around tending to the badly wounded.

Only...

As Neville limps his way through the hall he desperately scans over the crowds only to realise you're not here. You're not by Madame Pomfrey. You're not by Luna either. Neville finds Ginny's tired but hopeful figure and before he can tap her shoulder, she's already turned to him with a gentle smile.

She shakes her head before he even has a chance to speak. "I haven't seen Y/N. Not since... well not since she took care of Freddie. 'M sorry Neville."

"No," he shakes his head and gives the girl a gentle hug when her voice wavers and her bottom lip quivers. "No, I'm sorry."

"You helped kill Voldemort. That's hardly anything to be sorry for," she smiles again as they part, softly pushing at his shoulder to leave. To keep searching for you. "Don't worry, I'll keep an eye out for her."

Neville sends her a purposeful nod and turns to leave, the sword of Gryffindor still snug in his hand. At times he uses the weapon as a crutch, the pain in his everything starting to take a toll as previous rushes of adrenaline begin to fade. The only thing keeping him going is the thought of you. You and your sneezes, your messy hair, your often nasally voice, your big eyes and equally big grins. You.

He passes what looks to be remnant of the hospital wing's door, merely a pile of wood chips and metal beams now. He hears the distant tweet of a bird, the pitter-patter of loose rubble and someone's sneeze.

The sword clangs to the ground and he's sprinting. Neville rounds the corner of the entrance to the wing and he stops, breath heavy, vision blurry.

You're there, and you're already staring at him, your grin so large and your eyes even more so and you're holding onto something familiar.

"N-Neville?" your voice is soft and so stuffy and gorgeous.

"Achoo, good Godric." His sore legs carry him to your side, and you're running toward him, arms open. And then you jump and he completely forgets about how much pain he's in when he catches you.

You cling to his sweater, to his shoulders, to his neck, to his waist, squeezing him with every bit of strength you've got left.

He's grasping at your hoody, your waist, your hair, your skin, he's touching all of you, scared that if he'll let go you won't be there anymore.

"I love you so much," he says through a trembling voice.

You pull away slightly and return your feet to the ground, legs unwrapping from his hips. You crane your neck to kiss his jaw, and then you kiss his cheek and his other and then finally his lips. And it sets your heart on fire, full of adoration and care and relief. You don't ever want to stop feeling him here, his supple lips against yours, especially as his hands cup your jaw, reeling you in for more and more.

"I love you Neville," you cry when you finally have to pull away to catch your breaths. "Ever since I first met you. You and your twisted ankle."

He chuckles, tenderly wiping a tear from the apple of your cheek with his thumb. He scans over the room for a moment, as he feels your fingers come to dance over the dry trail of blood from his head wound.

"I don't think we're ever gonna leave this place," he says with a caress of your jaw.

Following his gaze, you giggle. Those beds you spent countless nights on, those countless concoctions and medical supplies you've had used on you, they're all here, scattered and battered around the room.

"That's why I came here instead of the Hall," you say, keeping one arm around your boyfriend's waist and unravelling the other to reveal an intact jar of creamy coloured ointment. "I'm so sorry, I must've scared you nuts."

"Scared me to death more like, but all I had to do was listen out for your sneezes. Turns out it isn't that hard to find you."

You poke your tongue out and he laughs. "That's so embarrassing. Always comes back to me being a Bogey Bug."

"Yeah," he smoothly pulls you in for an ardent kiss, "my Bogey Bug."

"You know what else I am?"

You're leaning against his arms that are wrapped around you and he watches as you take off the lid of the jar. Just like his fourth year, you use your fingers to scoop up a teaspoon of the cream.

"What? What else are you?"

You step out and take one of his hands, letting his palm sit over the top of yours. And then the cream is applied over the burns on the back of his hands. In spite of these burns looking way worse than his wound from Potions class back in his fourth year, the pain is still barely felt once the ointment's smoothed over. What's also killing the sting is looking at your breathtaking eyes. He's lost in them, distracted completely.

"I'm also your nurse," you finally say, wiping the excess over your hoody.

Neville's mouth curls into a smirk, snaking his arms around you again and pressing your bodies tightly together. "Well, nurse. My lips are feeling kind of sore, do you think you can fix them?"

You hum, eyes twinkling with mischief as your hands link behind his neck.

His gaze dips to your mouth, trying to fight the heat flowing to his cheeks and ears. There will never be a time when you won't make him nervous and giddy.

You mirror his action, eyes taking their time stare at his lips. "You know what, darling? I think I've got just the thing for you."

#neville x reader #neville longbottom #neville longbottom x reader #neville longbottom imagine #neville longbottom x you #neville longbottom smut #neville longbottom x reader smut #neville longbottom x y/n

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libraryofgage · 2 months

Text

Addams Family B-Side (5)

Part of: Steve Deserves Good Parents, Actually

This part was line-jumped on Ko-Fi, which means y'all got it sooner than I originally planned!

If you want to line jump your favorite series, you can learn more here

Steve meets the other CC boys in this one, and they all realize just how perfect the two are for each other hfjdks

As always, if you see any typos, no you didn't :^)

---------

Steve realizes something very important about Eddie over the next few days of school: he's a coward. Not that Steve minds, of course. In fact, he likes that; it means he gets to have more fun teasing Eddie to his limit and watching him get flustered.

He has to find Eddie to do that, though, and he starts with the Hellfire Club room (an English classroom that the teacher lets them borrow during lunch). Without knocking, he walks right in and looks over the three boys huddled together with monster figurines placed between them.

The boys look up at Steve, and the four of them begin a minute-long staring match before Steve finally smiles at them. "Gareth, Jeff, Asher," he says, pointing at each boy in turn. "Nice to meet you. Where's Eddie?"

"Who's asking?" Gareth asks, his eyes narrowed as he looks over Steve in his sweater-vest and chinos.

"Steve Harrington."

They recognize his name, if their expressions are anything to go by, and before Steve can ask again where Eddie is, Jeff stands up and crosses his arms. "Why do you wanna know where Eddie is?" he asks.

"Because I want to talk to him."

"What about?" Asher asks, leaning around Jeff to level a similar glare at Steve.

"Our project."

"Let's cut the crap, Harrington," Gareth says, moving to stand next to Jeff. "What are you trying to pull here?"

"What do you mean?"

"Someone like...you isn't interested in Eddie unless you want something," Asher says, looking Steve up and down once more for emphasis.

Oh. They think he has bad intentions. Steve can't help a slight smile, glad Eddie has good friends. "I do want something," Steve says, nodding once as pride and vindication flash in the others' eyes. "I want to chain Eddie to my bed and never let him leave until he's so utterly enthralled by me that he'd never think of looking away even if I did unchain him."

"Wh....what?" Jeff asks, his voice cracking slightly.

Steve nods once and sighs regretfully. "Unfortunately, Mother would never let me because his disappearance would raise too many questions," he admits, pouting slightly as he looks up at the boys, "So, I have to get his attention in other ways."

"Like...leaving gifts?" Asher asks.

"Exactly," Steve says, smiling brightly. "It's as close to proper courting as I can get."

"Okay, you're weird," Jeff decides.

"What do you even like about him?" Gareth asks, his eyes narrowing slightly now that he's over his surprise.

"His conviction. And Eddie is so cute when he's flustered or jealous. And he gets along so well with Nox. He didn't scream when he met my father, and he seems perfectly happy stabbing Pubert's kidneys, too. I think he's got such Addams potential, I can hardly control the urge to slip him a little belladonna or raspberry to get him all breathless and gasping."

"Dude, do you wanna kiss him or kill him?!" Asher asks.

Steve blinks, frowning slightly at the question with such an obvious answer. "Well, murder attempts are only appropriate after marriage, don't you think? Nothing says I love you like a post-nuptials bomb or a toaster in the bath."

"Oh," Jeff says faintly, "you do wanna kill him."

No, they still don't get it. Steve's frown deepens, trying to figure out how to explain things properly. "Even if Eddie did die, I wouldn't let him stay dead," Steve explains, "I would get him back. We have an understanding with Death. I want to make Eddie's wildest nightmares come true and keep him company in his dreams. I want us to bury ourselves alive in each other's arms so we can pass out breathing the same air. I want to dance a Mamushka for him. I want Eddie to feel accepted and support his deadliest ambitions until he feels absolutely smothered and helpless to get away."

A few moments of silence pass. Steve waits patiently, smiling at them as they process his words. "I've got it," Jeff finally says, "he's clinically insane."

"How'd you know?"

"You know what?" Gareth asks, looking to Steve, "I think you and Eddie might be perfect for each other, maybe just leave us out of whatever weird flirting thing you've got going on here."

"I need to find Eddie to do that."

"He's in the loft in the black box," Asher says, "That's where he goes to, uh, think."

"Oh, does he have buyers today?"

"No, he goes there to actually think, too," Gareth explains.

Steve smiles brightly and nods. "Thanks! I'm glad Eddie has such good friends. I think we'll get along, too," he says.

"Yeah, if you don't kill us first," Gareth mutters.

"I wouldn't! Not until we were friends ourselves, at least."

With that, Steve turns on his heel and waves as he leaves the classroom, heading straight for the black box with a plan already forming.

-------------

Eddie grimaces as he hears someone climbing the loft stairs. He throws an arm over his eyes and soon realizes that only makes the image of Steve leaning close and looking up at him even harder to ignore. With a huff, Eddie squeezes his eyes harder as he calls out, "I'm not selling today!"

The steps pause, and Eddie thinks the person is going to leave only for them to continue again. He frowns and drops his arm in time to see Steve's head poking around the railing. His face is a little blotchy, his eyes are slightly red, and his voice is rough like he's been crying when he says, "I'm not here to buy."

What else is Eddie supposed to think when Steve looks like this?

He jerks up, leaning against the arm of the prop couch with wide eyes. "Have you been crying?" he asks.

Steve sniffs and looks away, still hesitating at the top of the stairs. "No," he says, his voice closer to normal as he takes a deep breath and marches over to the couch. He stares at Eddie for a moment before sitting on the other end. "I've done something wrong, haven't I?" he asks.

"What? No!" Eddie says, jerking forward and stopping himself before he can actually touch Steve's shoulder. He clears his throat and forces his hand to drop. "Why would you think that?"

"You've been avoiding me," Steve says, his tone resigned as he sighs. He glances at Eddie, briefly meeting his eyes before looking away. "I guess I can be overwhelming, huh? I'll stop now. With the gifts and all. Just pretend it never happened. You can even keep Nox."

Eddie feels the entire world lurch beneath him at Steve's words. Yeah, he's been avoiding Steve, but only because he felt at risk of confessing undying love in the middle of the crowded hallway if he so much as met Steve's eyes. Not to mention how Steve's voice as he offered to contribute more to their project keeps echoing in Eddie's head, making him think of things that definitely aren't school appropriate.

But it backfired. It backfired so so bad. How could Steve not realize that Eddie wants to be more overwhelmed, actually? Like, please keep overwhelming him until he dies, thank you.

Without thinking, he pushes himself into Steve's space, hesitating a moment before throwing his arm around Steve's shoulders as the smell of cookies and cream washes over him. "You definitely didn't overwhelm me, sweetheart," he says, the name just slipping out.

Based on the way Steve's eyes widen, he doesn't take it back. "Then, why were you avoiding me?" Steve asks.

"I, uh...I just...," Eddie looks away, frowning as he tries to come up with an answer that doesn't involve him confessing to Steve on a couch at least three different couples have fucked on.

"Is it because you don't like me? You could just say that, Eddie," Steve says, his shoulders slumping as he leans out of Eddie's space.

Oh fuck. Eddie scrambles, his brain reaching for anything to say that will fix this. Finally, he blurts out, "I like you too much. I like you so much I want to smother you until you can't breathe." Steve blinks, and Eddie feels the world fall out from under him. Well, he's confessed on the couch. Shit. He swallows around the nervous lump in his throat and pulls away, an anxious laugh bubbling from him.

And then Steve smiles, robbing Eddie of his laughter. His face is no longer splotchy, his eyes are no longer red, and Eddie feels like he's fallen into a trap that couldn't be more obvious. "Did...did you just..."

Before he can get the rest out, Steve leans closer until his lips are brushing over Eddie's earlobe. "I like you, too," he whispers, the words ghosting over Eddie's skin and sending a shudder down his spine. With that, Steve pulls back and stands from the couch, walking over to the staircase.

"Where are you going?" Eddie asks, leaning so far forwards that he falls off the couch and lands on his ass on the floor.

Steve looks back at him and smiles fondly, the curve of his lips making Eddie's hands curl into fists so he doesn't reach out to drag his thumb across them. "I was thinking of skipping the rest of the day to see a movie," he says. "Wanna join me?"

Eddie scrambles to his feet faster than he thought possible, hurrying after Steve as he starts down the stairs.

-------

"I just don't get it!" Steve says, frowning as he paces across the room. His mother is stretched out on a chaise lounge, idly flipping through a VINTAGE MACABRE magazine Morticia lent her. "I mean, I took him to a movie, it was plenty dark, I leaned in and whispered to him the whole time and did that thing you taught me with dragging my finger up his arm, and nothing!"

"He's just a tough nut to crack," Debbie says, her voice reassuring as she flips a page.

Steve turns on his heel to face her, his frown deepening. "What am I doing wrong?" he asks, his voice breaking slightly at the end as sheer frustration overwhelms him. He's given Eddie gifts, he's dressed provocatively, he's made it so clear that he wants to be with Eddie, but nothing has happened. "Can't I just...ask him out myself?"

That makes Debbie pause. She looks up, closes her magazine, and sits up on the lounge, gesturing for Steve to join her. He carefully sits next to her, sighing when Debbie pulled him into a hug. "You're doing nothing wrong, dear," she says, her fingers running through his hair. "You're just impatient. It's only your first hunt."

"My only hunt," Steve mumbles, resting his head on his mother's shoulder. "I don't want anyone else."

"You should enjoy it more, then," Debbie says, gently tugging on a few strands of his hair. "Don't get so caught up in your end goal. The longer the hunt takes, the more you'll savor your victory. Besides, he'll just be more passionate when he finally breaks."

"Well," Steve says, "Eddie is cute when he's flustered. And when he's jealous. He has great potential, by the way, I mean, he really wants to kill Pubert, I think."

"I'm sure it's nothing Pubert doesn't deserve," Debbie says lightly. "Anyway, I think you're doing just fine, Steve. From what you've told me, Eddie isn't going anywhere anytime soon."

"Should I try harder, though?"

Debbie thinks for a moment, humming softly as she considers the question. "How about this," she says, perking up some as the idea comes to her, "Invite Eddie to dinner on Friday. I'll get a look at him myself, and if he still hasn't cracked by the end of the night, you can crank things up a notch."

Steve slowly nods, turning the suggestion over in his head. He wanted Eddie to meet his mother anyway, especially since he already met Fester. This would also be another opportunity to spend more time with Eddie alone. In Steve's room. With the door closed.

And maybe something will finally happen.

"Okay," Steve says, "I'll invite him."

-----

Tag List (there's no more room on the list, so please follow the addams family b-side tag to see updates!)

@estrellami-1, @itsall-taken, @mugloversonly, @fandomcartographer, @hippielittlemetalhead, @agree2disagre-kicks, @ledleaf, @just-a-tiny-void, @goodolefashionedloverboi, @ink1177, @maya-custodios-dionach, @littlebluejane, @steddieonbigboy, @ravenpainter, @read-write-thrive, @deadontheinside20, @yeahhhh-suga, @nectandra, @mogami13, @mx-jinxous, @thoughtfulbreadpolice, @anne-bennett-cosplayer, @xoxoladyclara

@zaddipax, @dycte, @breealtair, @geekymagicalpotato, @janea-grill, @juliasthename-adhdismygame, @yikes-a-bee, @wayward-people, @st-fics, @disrespectedgoatman, @bipusssy, @cottagecorebutnaturescaresme, @nightowl14028018, @that-binchh, @your-confused-friend, @irethsune, @goosesister, @strawberryyyenthusiast, @irregular-child, @theverywest

@jinx-nanami, @solene1324, @nailbatwielder, @y4r3luv, @happylittletrees3, @croatoan-like-its-hot, @itcanbepalped,

#steddie #steddie fic #addams family b side #steve deserves good parents actually #steve harrington #eddie munson #corroded coffin #debbie jellinsky #addams family crossover #my writing

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avoxrising · 5 months

Text

The Feral One • Ch 16

Finnick x Y/N

Series Masterlist Link

As a thank you for 400 followers here’s a bonus short chapter for tonight! Enjoy :)

Content Warnings - None

The doctors asked you every question imaginable about the treatment you received in the capital; what the medicine tasted like, what it smelled like, how long did it make you sleep for. You did your best to answer their questions but not being a medical professional yourself you honestly didn’t know most of the answers.

“Can we do a brain scan?” Johanna asks. “There has to be something to explain all this!”

“Miss Mason,” the doctor states. “We do not have the technology for that but based on all of our available tests we have performed and the discussion of the treatment I think she’s fine.”

Suddenly there is a knock on your door and Plutarch enters.

“I’m sorry to interrupt but Miss Y/L/N is needed in command,” he states. The doctor allows you to leave, much to Johanna’s protests, and you walk with the older man towards command.

“Don’t stress it’s just wedding planning,” he explains as you walk the long halls of District 13. “The whole district is very excited!”

You are met with the faces of Coin, Effie, Katniss’ prep team, and Katniss herself when you enter command. The prep team seems scared of you but you give them a gentle smile and take a seat next to Katniss. You can’t help but notice the way she subtly shifts away from you.

“Well my dear I am so excited for you,” Effie chimes. You give her a quick thanks and she continues to blabber on about ideas for the wedding. She talks about everything from which flowers to decorate the tables with to how the guests should be seated.

“Oh and I almost forgot!” she chimes. “Katniss has agreed to take you to twelve to pick out a dress for your wedding! She has some of Cinna’s designs there and we could make alterations so they fit!”

“Are you sure?” you ask Katniss, surprised she agreed.

“Of course,” she responds. “We can go this afternoon if you would like.”

You return that evening to your hospital room, having picked out your dress. It’s a sage green gown that flows eloquently from your shoulders like water. It’s simple, which is exactly what you wanted. The prep team brought back some of Peeta’s suits to fit Finnick with as well.

“Hey Y/N/N,” Finnick grins as he enters your room. “What did you get up to today?”

“Not much,” you shrug. “Johanna made the doctors run a bunch of tests on me cause she thinks I’m crazy, then I sat in on a two hour long wedding planning meeting, then Katniss took me to 12 to pick out a dress.”

“Sounds busy,” Finnick sighs, sitting down on your bed next to you.

“Finn?” you ask, catching his attention. “What is it that I’m not remembering? Everyone seems to know but me.”

He turns to you with worry covering his face.

“I don’t want you to remember,” he states. “It was something very bad that happened to you. It’s for the best that you don’t remember.”

“If it happened to me then I should know!” you exclaim, frustrated that nobody would tell you.

You would get your answers, you would just have to find them elsewhere.

Repeat end quote bc I didn’t have one I liked for this chapter lolz

Taglist:

@randomgurl2326 @mystargirl-interlude @uther-pendragon-is-an-ass @yourdailymemedelivery @americanprometheuss @l3xi3luv @noisyalmonddreamer @nordicvxid @teaganthemorningstar @samatokisunfinishedcigarette @justtrying2getby @heytherellala @notplutos @innercreationflower @nexxus13 @kachelleee @helluvafire @haymitchabernathyslover @memeorydotcom @frostsword @meri-soni-meri-tamanna @giverosespls @honethatty12 @just-levyy @dd122004dd @nekee-lilac02 @impeterporker @nox-the-gay-nerd @redsakura101 @hopefulatrocity @eddiemunson4ever @fangirlvibez @kittimbo @zucchinimalfoy @sleepy-roman @secretsicanthideanymore @writerofadream @vsnrly @mayonesavegana @lilifl0wer @finnickodaddy @abbersreads @fox-bee926 @ginger-swag-rapunzel @isasalom

*if the tag didn’t work please check your settings to make sure other blogs can tag you

#hunger games #finnick odair #hunger games fic #the hunger games #finnick odair x reader #finnick x reader #finnick odair angst #finnick angst #finnick #mockingjay #the feral one

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haveyouseenthisskeleton · 7 months

Note

S/o comes home from a hard days work and yells into the house " WHERES MY MANS, I NEED CUDDLES AND KISSES "

Undertale Sans - He chuckles and sinks deeper into the couch as you get close, the face turning bluer and bluer. He plays all shy and all but you can tell he has been waiting for this for a few hours now. He's a bit too eager to kiss you when you finally sit next to him too.

Undertale Papyrus - He throws everything he's holding in the air and runs to you to kiss you with excitement, almost crushing you as he jumps in your arms at the same time.

Underswap Sans - He runs to hide somewhere. Where's the fun if you find him right away? You think he's that easy to get? Try again. You're trashing the house to find him, and then you finally put a hand on him, you're not letting go.

Underswap Papyrus - You hear footsteps come down the stairs in a hurry as he runs to your arms to welcome you home. You hear him sigh in content, happy you're finally home to cuddle.

Underfell Sans - He stares at you from the couch as you freeze seeing him. He gets stiff. "no no no nO NO NO NO" but that's too late. You throw yourself at his neck and kiss him everywhere as his face is now a burned tomato color, and he's trying to hide from you. When you stop, he immediately snuggles against your chest though. Don't stop.

Underfell Papyrus - He hisses as you run to him, and he is forced to hold whatever he's cooking above his head so you don't mess it up. Once you're holding him though, he just sighs and awkwardly pets your head to welcome you. Yeah, yeah, you're home, it's nice.

Horrortale Sans - You can hear him purr from the living couch as soon as the door opens. Oak is vibrating with excitement, shaking as he's waiting for you to come and hug him. He's so happy you're back. He hugs you against him with all he has and rubs his head on your face.

Horrortale Papyrus - He tries to ignore you, as he keeps doing whatever he is doing. But his smile is growing wider and wider as he hears you get close. He still squeaks when you suddenly hug him from behind and turn around to kiss you softly. Welcome home, dear.

Swapfell Sans - He was in the middle of a tea with the Queen and Alphys when you knocked over the door, screaming this. Nox stares in disbelief at Toriel and Alphys as they both smirk and laugh at him, as his face is turning entirely purple. Oh god, he's going to hear about this for a few months, is he? It's even worse when you actually come, ignoring the guests, to kiss him full mouth. Nox is in shock. Is it really happening? Please someone wake him up. You have no shame.

Swapfell Papyrus - You can finish your sentence as Rus suddenly teleports above you, entirely naked, and jumps in your arms. You're too slow to catch him and get crushed by the skeleton as you fall on your butt with him on top of you. Well, that's a normal day...

Fellswap Gold Sans - He stops his torture session to come and kiss you, covered in blood. You sing song to him to have a nice work as you hug him carefully, before leaving him to his tasks. All in front of a very shocked half-naked man who witnessed the whole scene after hours of torture. Wine smiles sweetly, revigorated, then turns back to the guy. Where was he again?

Fellswap Gold Papyrus - He runs to the door and jumps in your arms, squeaking and all excited. He starts to tell you all about his day as he's hanging in your arms, holding your head against his chest. You'll have to carry him for a while, he's not ready to let go.

#undertale #underswap #underfell #horrortale #swapfell #fellswap gold #sans #papyrus #undertale ask blog #undertale asks #undertale imagines #undertale headcanons

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moonlingering · 22 days

Text

self indulgent death note au where everything is the same execpt Lights a fucking loser. Everything is the same except hes literally just tomoko from watamote. overthinks everything. everyone thinks hes this cool suave guy but in his head hes just like “god DAMMIT ohhm y god no. noX I FORGOT MY FUCKING COFFEE ORDER THIS IS SO EMBARRASSING AND PATHETIC I NEED TO KILL MY SELF NOW???3” while the barista’s looking at him sighing dreamily. (plot twist: the barista is misa and her coworker is L. they both have very different opinions on light. misa just looks at him and thinks “what a guy.” and L’s only opinion on him is “wow what a loser he looks like hes in a constant state of sopping wet cat. (affectionate) ) Light is in crises half the time and people DO hate him but not for the reason he thinks. instead its because in his trying to always be perfect and get to places on time, he runs to places a lot and accidentally pushes people. so. much. atp theres a support group for people that Light Yagami has accidentally pushed in his hurry. anyways sorry for rambling i love light a lot but i think they should have internally made him a loser because come on. he has sad wet cat material and they wasted it on sad religious imagery of a teenage boy yearning to be something more. jk i love him :3 i just think he could have been more tragic in a radiohead/alex g way instead of a mitski way if u understand what that means.

#death note #light yagami #light death note #light yagami hcs #what a loser #i love him

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cats-obsessions · 6 months

Text

Dark Urge/Gortash

Just a Drabble I cant get out of my head- Durge is able to recover more of his memories along his travels back to Baldurs Gate, and Orin doesn’t bother telling Gortash that her kin has returned.

“Hello, Lordling”

The Dark Urge, Son of Bhaal, Nox leans back against the old, mahogany desk in his dear friend, Gortash’s office where he’s been waiting, ever patiently, for the tyrant to arrive.

It’s luxurious to a point Nox had once found gaudy, but the room gives him a warm feeling in his chest now. Some parts of his memories echo through his empty brain as mere feelings and impressions. Some remain vivid, yet the bulk of what he could access shows glimpses of his life only in the months before Orin’s attack, but he knows they go deeper. Flashes of late night scheming, shared heists, interrogations, pools of blood, carefully plotted assassinations, then, the smell of avernus clinging to their skin amidst a first kiss. All of it went back to him- Gortash, not Bhaal. Not his fathers wishes or the Urge or even the temple. Everything in Nox’s empty brain was bringing him here.

He let his companions greet the new archduke on their own, but he watched from the shadows, the disappointment in Gortash’s eyes betraying the tyrant, but this was a meeting better had in privacy. The very same newly coronated archduke stands in front of him now for the first time in only the gods know how long.

“Fuck off,” Gortash grumbles, a tight frown on his face. The large double doors of the office swing closed behind him. As their eyes meet, Nox can see the extent of exhaustion that permeates the tyrant’s being. Circles much darker than usual shroud his near-black eyes. His hair had grown in the past two months, resting on his collarbones in disarray. Even the way he breathes sings of discontent.

Nox tilts his head, unmoving from his spot on the lord’s desk “Not the welcome home I was hoping for. I can understand your anger, but-”

“-Orin” the duke hisses sharply, “I have better things to do than this. As do you. Make yourself useful for once.”

Orin. Something in Nox’s chest sinks with the realization, “She’s been mocking you with my face? Gods- I’m going to kill that inbred little bitch the second I see her” he growls.

That earned a raised eyebrow from Enver, but the duke keeps wary eyes trained on his assassin “I’m not playing your games this time” he sighs.

“I assure you, Enver, I am not here to play games.”

Nox watches as Gortash moves across the room to his liquor cabinet against the wall, fine wood gilded in gold. The duke’s eyes stay trained on him, even as he begins to pour a glass of fine, amber whiskey. “Yes, yes, you will slash me in two, bathe in my blood, and what was it-” Gortash pauses to take a long, slow sip, sighing once again “-wear my intestines as a scarf? No matter- all the same, uncouth drabble with you.”

“Not until the end. And not like that. I won’t kill you until- unless we are the last two living in all the realm. First you, then me.” Nox clenches his fingers, his jaw tightening and untightening as he feels the images of Enver’s death set in behind his eyes. The Urge whispers for him to take the Banite now, but he knows better. He takes a slow, deep breath, reaching instinctively to the band around his wrist. He focuses on the feelings to ground himself for a moment before continuing. “I believe that was the promise I made you before- Well, things are hazy- a lobotomy does that to you.”

Enver stops, his glass half raised to his lips as his eyes widen. Nox can nearly see his thoughts, debates. He’s questioning if Orin could have such knowledge, if Orin could keep calm this long in a conversation, if Orin could push down her Urge. Nox gives a lopsided smile as he continues. “I don’t remember everything, but I remember you. I came back for you- to stand by you. As we are meant to be.”

It only takes a few seconds for Gortash to cross the room, his glass crashing into the golden tray below it, well abandoned; and Nox smiles, allowing his shirt collar to be grasped tightly in the duke’s hands. Gortash crowds his space, leering at him. There’s venom in his expression, but just below that lies hope.

“Prove it or die.”

How many times had Orin tried this? How many times did she dangle Nox in front of Enver? Did she pretend to return to him just like this? Or simply take his form to berate the tyrant lord? The thought makes the teifling’s blood boil. But he will save that rage for later.

Nox huffs out a chuckle, “If I were Orin, I would have my fucking dagger, and this goddamn tadpole wouldn’t be in my head, Enver.”

His words are enough, and Gortash yanks the collar of his shirt forward until they are pressed against each other, their lips colliding in a rough, forceful kiss that dissolves into desperation. For Nox, it’s familiar and new all at once as if he were acting out a scene he had only seen in a play; he knew Enver’s taste, his smell, the way he was rough and gentle all at once. Yet, feeling it rather than seeing it through a haze of lost memories and confusion was enough to make his knees weak.

“You have a tadpole in your head. You gods damned idiot.” Enver smiled against his lips, words devoid of venom. His hands move up to cup Nox’s face, warm gold of Gortash’s gauntlets pressing against his cheeks. “I have missed you so, my dearest.”

“I missed you, too.” Nox chuckles, and his cheeks warm up as if the words were meant to stay inside his mind- as if he was supposed to be ashamed by such thoughts, but the way Enver pulls him closer makes him think perhaps it is okay not to be ashamed about some things. Perhaps, whatever lingering worry circles in his mind from before does not matter anymore.

#I am obsessed with them being so soft to each other and so terrible to everyone else #they’re evil your honor #durgetash #drabble #the dark urge #enver gortash #the dark urge x enver gortash #goretash #bg3 #fic #oc: Nox #someone posted what if lordling was durges affectionate term for gortash that Orin uses to mock his loss #and I’m obsessed #cats thoughts

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heartofwritiing · 2 years

Text

The Doctor Rambles

paring: 10th!doctor x fem!reader

summary: the doctor gose on one of his many rambles but you’re so exhausted from your recent adventure.

a/n: so i am yet again on a doctor who fixation for the 100th time in my life lol i got this idea the other night and i really wanted to write it hope you guys enjoy!

warning(s): just fluff, short and unedited!

Your legs felt like jelly as you walked down the busy London street in your combat boots. What you hoped would be a relaxing day turned into another crazy adventure. You had just spent the day running around London following the doctor and his little gizmo that was tracking “void stuff” the doctor never really explained what that was but you went along with it as always. Just nodding and smiling whenever the doctor went on his many, many tangents.

You were jogging along the sidewalk trying to keep up with the doctor and his long legs when he stopped at a crosswalk, his coat clung around his shoulders but the bottom swished with every movement. He looked down at the device and it had stopped making noise as you came up from behind him placing your hand on his shoulder while you caught your breath.

He poked his tongue out in thought and brought his other hand up to fiddle with the device in the other.

“Okay, I need a minute before we start running again.” you pant. The Doctor huffed and banged his hand on the side of the gizmo before it finally went silent from the whirring noise it made. “No need, I've lost the trail.”

You sighed in relief. At least you didn’t have to run anymore.

“Oh well back to the Tardis!” the Doctor shrugged and began to walk off in the other direction.

You gaped at him but followed. “Doctor!" you shout.

"That's it? after all that?!"

He turns back to you frowning.

"No, something is wrong with the gizmo, I have to go back to the tardis to fix it," he says.

You groan.

"the Tardis is parked all the way on the other side of the city!” He shoved his hands in his pockets and took out his sonic screwdriver, scanning the device trying to see the problem and why it had lost the trail. He turned back to you.

“Well I suppose we could take the bus back, come on.” he motions for you.

You both make it to a bus stop at the end of the road and plop yourselves down on the bench. You cross your arms over your chest to keep yourself warm, even though you were wearing a jacket the air was very chilly at night. The Doctor was still messing with his gizmo and you just sat there looking up at the sky, occasionally a car would pass you by on the road but other than that the street was pretty much empty. The only sounds were the wind brushing by your ears and the buzzing of the sonic to your left.

When the red double decker bus pulls up the doctor motioned you to step in first, while he showed the driver the psychic paper. You both found seats and plopped down beside each other again.

The bus began moving and your eyes felt heavy with exhaustion. The Doctor began rambling about the machine he was still messing with.

You yawned, but not because you thought what the doctor was saying was boring but because you were so tired from all the running. You rested your head on the doctors shoulder but he was too busy talking to notice you were begging to doose off to the sound of his voice.

"And I just can't understand what happened to-" The Doctor stops his speech when he looks over to you and realizes you've fallen asleep on his shoulder, your soft snores and chest falling slowly indicating this. He smiled amusingly, he hadn't realized he had tried you out from running around London all day. and went back to work fiddling with his contraption. He would tell you about his rambling brain latter when you were awake.

tags: @redheadspark @a-lumos-in-the-nox @steve-harringtons-slut

@magnificentzombiebasement

#10th!doctor x reader #10th!doctor #doctor who #doctor who x reader #doctor who imagine #fanfiction #x reader #the doctor x reader #the doctor x fem!reader #10th!doctor x fem!reader #david tennet #david tennant x reader #doctor who fanfiction #fluff #short fic

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good-griief · 11 months

Text

Time ; Acceptance

third and final chap of my "time" series! i really hope yall enjoyed it cus angst is one of my fave things to write. i didn't want to drag it out too much but i was thinking of doing one-shots and some au's of this idea, so if ur interested in that, i'd be glad to know!

warnings ambiguous relationship between abby and reader, reference to romance, implications of unrequited love (it's not), she/her reader, lasting effects of torture to reader, morally grey reader, ambiguous/story-teller dependent interpretation of major past event between characters

tags @frogtits1 @sawaagyapong @augieee21 @sunkissedbibi @eden-nox

part one part two

part three on ao3

Ellie looked over the pictures she took from Leah as she and Dina sat in the theater, pausing at the sight of someone she didn’t recognize. “Who’s this?” She asked, picking up the photo. California was written beneath the picture of a girl and a younger-looking Abby, clearly candid as they leaned against one another by a bonfire. She flipped over the picture. Soon, was written with a heart next to it.

“Dunno.” Dina swiped a few pictures over to her girlfriend. “There are a few of her.”

Ellie looked them over, seeing Leah had written and scratched out Santa Barbara on one before scribbling hearts on others. Finally, there was a recent one. Your name was under the picture of you two together, and on the back was a small note. Finally back home was all she read before she stopped, realizing how personal it was and tossing it aside. It had nothing to do with her, and she refused to feel bad about anything pertaining to these people.

Abby found the pictures in the theater after finding Mel and Owen, taking them and stashing them in her bag.

She knew you’d seen Leah. She had the pictured proof of it, but she was hoping that night you would tell her why; tell her why, and tell her why, again, you didn’t stay.

“Just fucking stay here, then!” Your squad member had yelled at you, already being scared that you were so injured and now scared that you’d be leaving, when you debated whether or not to go and speak to your old friends. There was a tightness in your chest, stomach twisting as your heart raced to the point that it felt like one continuous, loud beat. This was all so familiar, but you weren’t going to leave this time. “Go back, see if they’ll take you in, but don’t come crawling back to us.”

You didn’t even have the option.

“What’s the verdict?” You asked one of the other medics back on the island after he looked over your recovering injuries; still having a severe pain in your stomach and hip that made you nauseous, flaring up to the point that it was debilitating at times.

It scared you; not being able to do your tasks. What if there was no use for you? Where would you be then? Alone?

And again by your own design.

He gave you a look. “You’ve got some pretty bad damage.” There was a big, splotched bruise on your stomach that hadn’t left in the days you’d been recovering. “Could be internal… We can’t have you over-exerting yourself. You’re our best medic.” You scoffed at that, nodding. “No more patrols, alright? At least, not until we can do something about this.”

It’d been months of this now, and you still weren’t better. You had a feeling walking around was making it persist, but you couldn’t just stop working. You refused. Even if it was killing you to do so— figuratively, of course.

Because of how distracted you were by that, you hadn’t noticed Abby’s distancing. You would set out a pouch of anti-poisons and poultice ingredients for her each time she went on patrol, but you hadn’t noticed she wasn’t taking them until they began to pile up.

You sighed, putting them in a basket to take to her. You hadn’t realized how heavy these were, as you’d been loading them up just for her, but you went ahead and began walking toward her and Lev’s home.

You hadn’t realized how far it was, but by the time you got there, you were feeling sick.

You knocked weakly, Abby not even realizing someone was knocking until you did again. She came to the door, surprised to see you. She couldn’t help the small smile that came to her face. You smiled back, but it faltered almost immediately. “Come in.” Abby stepped aside. “Are you alright?”

You sat down on her couch, setting the basket on the coffee table as you exhaled and held your hip. “Fine,” you forced. “You haven’t been picking up your pouches, so I thought I’d drop them off.”

Abby shut the door, coming over to you and kneeling. “Let me see it.”

“It’s just a cramp—“

Abby pushed you to lie back on the cushions, moving your hands and frowning at the clammy feeling. “Do you have a fever?” She asked, making you put your forearm to your head. You shook your head, but she lifted her arm to your head anyway. “God,” she muttered, moving to lift your shirt. The bruising was still there, still red, purple, and unfading. “What happened?” Her hands went to the cramping muscles in your abdomen, massaging to help break up the bruising and making you cringe in pain. “I’m sorry. It’ll help.”

“I know,” you sighed. “It happened back in Washington; your leader questioned me with some… weapon,” you said vaguely. “It’s just muscle bruising.”

“This looks like internal bleeding.“

“It was.” You sighed. “But it’s been like this for months. I’d be dead if it were internal bleeding,” you laughed out, though Abby didn’t find it funny. “The bleeding stopped before we left Washington. That’s why we stayed a few days longer; when I saw Leah.” Abby nodded along, her hand now resting on your stomach in a comforting hold, thumb running slowly over your skin. “That feels nice,” you mumbled, making her look down at her hand.

“Does it?” She was holding where the deepest part of the bruising was, right above your hip, your sentiment concerning her more than it should. “Did you hurt your hip?”

“Maybe on the trip back. Overexursion.” You nodded. “Sprain, or something.”

She frowned. “You should’ve just come back. Mel would’ve treated you.”

“They wouldn’t have waited for me.” You shook your head. “I didn’t want to have to go back alone— and don’t say I could’ve stayed. Not there.”

“I could’ve gone back with you.”

You didn’t realize that was something she might’ve wanted, making you pause and look down at her. “Would you have?”

“We all would’ve.” She pulled down your shirt, standing and getting you a bag of ice. “And even if they didn’t… I would’ve. If you asked, I’d go.”

“No you wouldn’t,” you huffed, laughing slightly. She sat next to you, holding the ice against your hip and pressing down to aid in compressing. She scoffed at you, shaking her head. “What? You would’ve just left?”

“For you? Of course.”

You grimaced, swallowing harshly. “Don’t say that.”

“What?”

You shook your head. “You have no idea what kind of guilt would burden you after doing something like that.”

There was a beat of silence. “I know how you felt,” she started, letting you hold the ice now that you were in less pain and seemed to be able to move. “Or feel. Even if you won’t tell me, I heard you say it… And I’ll be honest, I was angry that you left; that you were alive. We all were. But not at you. Never at you.” She kept her eyes away from yours, staring into the dead fireplace across from the two of you. “Just that… you couldn’t speak to us— And after what we did—“

“What you did?” You frowned over at her, shaking your head and objecting before she could continue. “I left—“

“The things we said—“

“No, Abby,” your voice was firm, wavering, but firm. “I left. That was my choice. When my friends needed me— when my family needed me, I wasn’t there because I left you. What I did,” you enforced with a tone she’d never heard directed at her from you before. “That is why I couldn’t speak to you.”

There was a long silence, Abby’s breath shaky as you sat back with a wince. She knew you shouldn’t be having this conversation right now, but it seemed like this was the only conversation the two of you could have.

And she just wanted to speak to you.

“I still would’ve left,” she concluded; a complete dismissal that made you scoff out a dry laugh. “I don’t care what you say; what stories you come up with to blame yourself.” You shook your head at her stubborn attitude. “I still would’ve left for you… And the only thing I’d feel guilty for, is caring about you more than I ever cared about anyone else.” You stayed quiet, letting her know she’d gotten your attention. “And I’m not asking you to feel the same—“

“Don’t do that—“

“—Or to change how you feel…” She spoke over you like you hadn’t even opened your mouth. “But I am asking you to understand me.” You knew she was choosing a time when you were vulnerable to come clean on purpose, making you grimace as you reluctantly listened to her try to get you to do the same. “Because you do know me, and you know that I would leave for you, even if you wouldn’t do the same for me.”

“Fuck you, Abby.” At your quiet voice, she knew she’d gotten through to you. Past your false passiveness and down to what you tried to hide from everyone. But you couldn’t hide from her. “I left for you.”

And she couldn’t from you.

“Don’t go there.”

“No, really.” You forced yourself to sit up and face her. “If this is what you want to talk about, then fine. We need to, anyway. No placating, no pacifying, nothing. Let’s talk.”

She took in a deep breath, turning to face you as she pushed herself to the other end of the couch. “Well?” Was all she said.

“Tell me the truth.” She immediately rolled her eyes; immediately got defensive. “That night, you wanted me to leave. Didn’t you?” You spoke slowly, meeting her eyes. “That’s why you feel so guilty; why you won’t let me. Because you wanted me to leave, and I knew that, and actually left.”

She was quiet, staring you down. “I thought you were going to leave.”

“Abby—“

“How many times do I have to say it—?”

“I know you. That’s what you just said.” Your tone became hostile quicker than she could process, making her look away. You knew she wasn’t telling the whole truth. “So I know you wanted me to leave. I shouldn’t have, but that’s why I left, and you know that, and you regret it…” You spoke firmly, words clear and cutting into her with every pause you took to emphasize them. “So just tell me the truth. Please.”

She was quiet for a moment, chest tightening as she grimaced. “If you were going to leave, I wanted to be the one to decide that we wouldn’t see each other. I already told you that.” She tip-toed around the question, earning nothing from you and making her more on edge. “So, yes, I wanted you to leave. I wanted you gone for suggesting you go.” When you let out a breath of satisfaction, she continued over you. “But then tell me the truth. You weren’t planning on us going with you. Were you? You were suggesting to go alone.”

“You know me so well,” your tone was dry, mocking and almost demeaning. It was a blow to the chest, making her bite her tongue. “There was no point in suggesting you go, but I was. Even though I knew you wouldn't have gone. All you wanted to do was find him—“

“I would’ve gone in the middle of the fucking night and left eveyone else if you asked.” Clearly, the demeaning tone of your voice was too much for her, her tone biting without a second thought as you continued to push her to get the full truth before you opened up, too; why she wouldn’t just let you take the blame for something that was so clearly your fault.

“No you wouldn’t.” You were pushing for an argument now, tone lazed and grating on her nerves.

She always let things slip when she was irritated.

“You didn’t fucking ask. How would you know?” She was quick to say, feeding off your dismissive tone.

“You would’ve left Owen. Really?”

“For you?” She laughed at your naivety. “I’d do fucking anything.” She shook her head. “But you wouldn’t ask me to—”

“And Joel?” She shook her head, shrugging. You did the same, shaking your head at her. “You wouldn’t have left them— him? No fucking way.“

“That’s where you’re wrong.” You scoffed. “I would’ve left as soon as you brought it up, and I would’ve made everyone go with us, if that meant you wouldn’t fucking leave—”

“Oh, and you’re not angry at me—?”

“Fuck you.”

You laughed in response, shrugging. “You’re the one that wanted me gone—”

“And everyone blamed me for it!” You shut your mouth at her exasperated response, looking over her flushed face and glossed eyes. “They all knew if I didn’t say anything, you wouldn’t have left… And they all knew you wanted to leave, so they blamed me for letting you.” She paused, a thick swallow bobbing in her throat. Now, you were getting somewhere. “That night; when you looked at me… I just wanted to give you the choice.” She blinked rapidly, but couldn’t control the way her voice broke, “I wasn’t telling you to go.” She spoke over you when you went to comfort her, “I would’ve told you to stay if I knew you’d already decided,” she got out quickly, shaking her head at herself when she felt her eyes burn.

Somehow, you always got her this way. Even if she thought the conversation could go her way, you always found a way to get to her.

“If you hadn’t fucking said anything—!” Jordan pointed an accusatory finger at Abby.

Just as they’d flipped on you, they were doing the same to her. They’d all been on her side last night, but suddenly she was at fault.

“Fuck off, Jordan,” Owen huffed out. “You were being an asshole.”

“And you weren’t?”

“Why don’t we just stop arguing and go find her?” Abby suggested, exasperated.

“Like she’d come back,” Leah scoffed. “Just let her go.” She was flippant, shocking everyone. “What if we find a body? What are we going to do then?”

“What the fuck, Leah?” Nora scoffed at her.

“I’m not the one that said anything to make her leave in the first place,” she bit back, though she wasn’t immediately blaming Abby and instead looked between Nora and Mel. “And now you wanna go find her?” She then looked at Abby, scoffing at her avoiding her gaze. “Go fuck yourselves.”

“You’re not any better,” Mel said. “You didn’t say anything.”

“Yeah? And what did you say, huh? Just go if you want to? What the fuck did you think—?”

“That’s enough, guys,” Owen spoke up, stopping them before they said anything else they’d regret. “She wanted to leave, so she left. It’s not anyone’s fault. It was a choice. Clearly, she decided to leave before she even brought it up.” Leah rolled her eyes. “I say we just go. We don’t know where she went, and we can’t track her.”

Abby could understand why Leah was the one you could speak to. How you could open up to her, and admit to her what you wouldn’t to the rest of them. She understood, but she still wished it was her.

She wished she could get to the gentle, comfortable part of the conversation without arguing first.

But that would never happen until you were honest with each other.

And that always took a fight.

The conversation had taken up so much emotional energy that you were in physical pain by the end of it; it continued on past Abby’s admission until she heard you tell her exactly how you felt. Just admitting it to her got you choked up, and seeing you that way did the same, but now you were holding the ice pack to your stomach as you curled up on her couch.

“Fuck, let me help.” Abby quickly got up and blinked away the feelings you’d just brought up, reaching out as she sat next to you and pulling you into her. There was really nothing she could do to help, but she told herself she was warming you up by holding you— helping tense muscles relax. “Try to relax.” She took the ice from you, setting it aside and pulling you closer.

You tried to even your breathing as she rubbed your back, but it only made you more upset. “I shouldn’t have started an argument. I’m sorry,” you muttered.

“I think this one was necessary,” she laughed, soothing you as you pressed your ear to her chest. “Even if you hate arguing, you were right. We needed to talk about it, and we never would’ve gotten here peacefully.” You laughed at that, wincing as you did. “But that doesn’t matter… What can I do?”

“Just…” You sighed, rolling your eyes at yourself. “Lie with me? You’re warm, so it… helps the muscle relax.” It was true enough, but Abby knew better. She knew you got scared when you were injured, and she knew being held helped.

Despite how you mocked her for one wrong judgment, she did know you. Even now. Still.

What she didn’t realize was how her embrace felt as comforting as it did when you were younger, not like the first time you hugged her— when you hardly recognized her touch. Even if you recognized her then, you recognized her touch even more now. The work she’d done to regain her strength brought feeling back to it. A lively, gentle feeling.

“You think you can walk to my room?” She asked tentatively, grabbing the ice pack as she stood and helped you up. You nodded, and despite her not believing you, she kept her arm around your waist and walked with you.

You looked down the hallway, huffing at the impossible length of it and forcing yourself to keep going until you faltered. Abby caught you quickly, scooping under your legs despite your protesting of “I’m fine” and carrying you the rest of the way.

She lied you down on her bed, making you lie flat to help the muscle stretch before lying with you and opening her arm for you as she set the ice aside.

“Now that you’re being all nice to me,” you said after a moment, earning an eye roll.

“I wasn’t being mean,” she countered.

“Why would you leave for me?” You asked as if she hadn't spoken. “Help me understand that.”

“I wanted to be with you. I told you that—“

“But why?”

She didn’t respond for some time, staring up at the ceiling. “You know why.”

“Abby,” you sighed, defeated. “Just tell me.”

She looked down at you with a frown. “Why do you need me to tell you?”

“Because, it doesn’t make any sense?” You scoffed at her, moving to sit up, but she held you down before you could cause yourself anymore pain. “I know how you felt about Owen, and I know how you feel about me. It’s not the same.”

“So you understand why he broke up with me then.” She laughed at that, as if it was the funniest thing she’d heard all day. You frowned. She hadn’t even told you that yet. “In the end, after seeing you that day, he wanted to come to Santa Barbara and find you too, but I guess he couldn’t understand why I held on all those years.”

“What do you mean?”

She pursed her lips, pushing herself up and going to her closet. She supposed it was her turn to show you all her keepsakes now, as she’d finally gotten them all back from the boat.

She emptied her backpack onto the bed, Leah’s polaroids and her old photos falling out. Books and folded up maps, too. Even an old journal.

You grabbed Leah’s pictures first, a smile coming to your face when you saw the one you took together.

“I know it’s a weird question, but can we take one together?” She’d asked after giving you pictures of your friends, to which you gladly agreed to before she had to leave.

You flipped it over, seeing the note she wrote and swallowing hard.

Finally back home

Again, I wish you’d stay, but I know why you can’t.

I don’t want to either. I don’t want to keep fighting.

I’m afraid that I’ll be gone before I get to see you again, but I’m glad we got this. Whatever it was.

Who would’ve thought that a few hours makes up for a few years apart?

You set it aside, lips pursed as you looked through the rest of them, all with notes just as feeling as that, some even sounding angry at the rest of your friends.

You looked to the maps, unfolding one and finding a small picture of you and Abby taped to it. Dots littered the paper, connected in a pattern that led to a circle around the picture, taped over central California. The next map was the same, towns being written out with information beneath them. The handwriting changed with each of the maps, getting clearer and clearer as Abby got older.

The last one was empty, only a picture taped to it.

The books had passages underlined, some annotated to show to you, or that you’d like them.

The last was her journal, binding cracked and worn but not because it was old. Because she’d written in it so much that the pages were worn, even teared with how hard she pressed into them, emotion sinking into the ink and through the pages.

You opened it to the middle, another photo falling out; one Abby had taken with Leah’s camera. Just of you.

There were entries upon entries, letters upon letters, and this one was the one you just had to open to.

It spanned for pages; pages, and pages of just one letter to you. One letter, pouring her heart out to someone who couldn’t— no, wouldn’t even reciprocate.

Your conversation, the one you turned into an argument for no reason other than to prove yourself right, replayed in your mind.

“I would’ve left.” For you.

“I’d do anything.” For you.

“If you’d ask me.”

“You wouldn’t ask me to.”

“If you asked, I’d go.”

You stared down at the book, her words repeating and repeating and making your vision blur as you finally took them in. “I’m not asking you to change how you feel.” That brought you closer to understanding, brows knitting together.

Even if you’d mocked her for it, she knew you well.

She knew you well enough to know you were finally letting yourself understand. She took the book from you, replacing it with her hands so she could pull you close, holding you to her chest just as her words sunk into your heart.

A blow to the chest.

I’m not asking you to feel the same.

#abby anderson x reader #abby anderson #abby x reader #abby tlou #abby anderson x fem reader #abby anderson fluff #abby and lev #abby anderson angst #abby anderson ff #abby anderson fic #abby anderson the last of us 2 #abby anderson x you #abby x fem!reader #abby x you #tlou abby #ellie tlou #dina tlou #tlou x reader

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mykneeshurt · 1 year

Text

Infiltration part 4

I’ve written this so it can be read as a stand alone smut fic!

Keegan x f!reader

Enemies to lovers / established relationship (kinda)

Warnings - 18+, minors DNI, smut and sex, all sex and smut - kept it vague cause I want it to be a surprise lmao

———-

Your breath fanned over his lips as you felt desire rage deep within you. His eyes danced from your eyes to your lips as his mouth parted slightly. Slowly you caressed your thumb over his strong chin, before tugging at his lower lip with the pad of the digit. Biting your lip you smirked at him ‘fuck I’ve missed these lips’ you whispered.

Closing his eyes he let out a shaky breath, a hint of desperation laced in within his whimper. His Adam’s apple bobbed as tried to regain any form of self-control that he could. Grabbing your arm suddenly he spun you round twisting it into your back. Hissing in pain he slammed you face down onto your desk. Grinning over your shoulder you licked your lips, ‘mmm fuck, steady baby’ you teased.

Kicking your legs open he leant over you, dropping his face close to your ear. ‘Such a fucking slut’ he spat. You wriggled your hips into his crotch ‘yeah? You gonna treat me like a slut Keegan?’ His grip tightened on your wrist causing you to moan softly. ‘What are you gonna do? Gonna make me beg? Gonna give me that cock?’

He nipped your ear before he rolled his hips into you, his hard cock grazed along your clothed slit. ‘Haven’t decided yet sweetheart, not sure you deserve it.’ He swiped his tongue along your neck causing a shiver to ripple down your spine. You arched your back, causing you to push your ass into him further. Dropping his head onto your shoulder he battled with himself, Merrick had sent him here for a reason. But being this close to you again? It reignited dull flame he still held in his heart for you. This was a toxic relationship, but was more than willing to take a bite from the poison apple.

He finally let go of your arm and dropped his hands to your waist, pulling off your belt and opening your trousers. Yanking them down revealed your perky ass to him, he caressed his gloved hand over your skin before spanking it. You flinched beneath him biting your finger to muffle the sound of your moan. He ran his finger just beneath the seam of your panties causing you to inadvertently buck your hips. He placed a tender kiss at the base of your spine as he inhaled your scent, something he greatly missed.

Removing his glove, he lightly traced his finger over the damp patch forming in your panties. He grunted in approval as he pushed them to the side, toying with your slit. You dug your nails into the oak desk, trying to ground yourself from the sudden intrusion of your senses. He ran his fingers up and down gathering your juices, placing them in his mouth he sucked them clean. ‘Never forgot how sweet you taste Nox, fuckin sinful.’

You clenched at his words, reeling from the absence of his fingers. Finally inserting his ring and index finger you let out a whimper at his touch. Using his free hand he twisted it into your hair pulling it from the root. The sound of your wet cunt filled the room as he thrusted his fingers inside you. Moaning into the table you placed your hand on his, desperate to feel more of him.

As he settled into his pace he freed your hair, using his hand to separate your cheeks spitting onto your tight hole. He groaned at the sight of his saliva dripping from your asshole to your cunt, as he stretched it with his fingers. A guttural moan exploded from your chest, it was a borderline sob. ‘Feels so good, fuck don’t stop’ you wailed.

As quickly as he started, he stopped. He ripped your trousers and panties off, leaving you bare. He pulled you back into his burly chest cupping your jaw and finally placed his lips on yours. You sighed into the kiss reaching behind you to grip the base of his skull. He swiped his tongue along your lips forcing his tongue into your mouth, the kiss was deep and messy. He pulled you closer by your hip, the pads of his fingers leaving indents in your skin.

Breaking off the kiss he turned you to face him, taking advantage you fumbled with his belt trying desperately to reach for his cock. Gripping your throat your mouth fell open, eyes glazing over with euphoric lust. Without realising what he had in his hand he stuffed something into your mouth ‘slow down sweetheart, we don’t want to attract anymore attention.’ As your tongue mapped the texture, you realised he’d stuffed your damp panties into your mouth. Effectively gagging you, muffling your moans of pleasure.

He watched as he saw your eyes light up, a sickly sweet grin broke out across his face. He nipped your bottom lip before pushing you back onto your desk, picking your belt up from the floor he wove it around your wrists. Fastening it tightly, rendering you powerless. He always knew you liked to relinquish control to him, only him.

You watched as he knelt between your thighs, his piercing blue eyes just visible as he swiped his tongue up your cunt. His tongue made languid strokes against your clit as he savoured your taste. He hooked his arms around your thighs and pulled you as close as he possibly could, devouring you whole. He lightly moaned into your pussy, not getting enough of your arousal on his tongue. You ran your bound hands through his onyx hair, pulling it tightly. Bucking your hips you tried to ride his face, trying to chase your high which you felt building.

Keegan slapped your thigh, scolding you for your actions. A muffled plea came from your throat, you’d missed this. You’d missed him. As he pulled away a ribbon of his saliva mixed with your arousal hugged his lips. Using his thumb he gathered it up before sucked it clean.

He pinned your hands above your head as he placed a kiss on your forehead. ‘Stay quiet sweetheart. Wouldn’t want Claude to hear how much of a pathetic slut you are. Would you?’ Your chest rose and fell quickly at his words as you nodded firmly. It felt freeing to be out control, for him to hold it all in his hands. Just like old times.

Rolling your bare hips on the desk beneath you, you begged, pleaded with him to fuck you. He rubbed small circles on your thighs as he took in your form beneath him, your cunt glistening in the full light of your office. He bit his lip as he unfastened his belt, pulling his cock out he pumped it slightly hissing through his teeth.

Spreading your legs wider to accommodate his thick thighs and hips he stood in between your legs. His cock was thick, but perfect in length, just the right size. Pre-cum decorated the tip of his engorged tip, you wanted to lick your lips but your panties stopped you in your tracks. Running his cock up your slit he pressed it into your clit before slowly stretching your cunt open.

Arching your back your eyes rolled to the back of your head, as he stretched you open. He gripped your thigh as he dropped his head adjusting to the sensation of your pussy. He closed his eyes momentarily as he let out a deep moan from the back of his throat. Slowly he started thrusting into you, you felt full, content, satiated. You watched as his hips pounded into your thighs, managing to get a glimpse of his defined stomach and prominent ‘V’.

Hovering over your cunt he dribbled a web of saliva onto your clit, before he massaged it into the swollen bundle of nerves. Your breaths became heavy with pure pleasure as he adjusted his angle to penetrate you deeper. The tip of his cock kissed your cervix as he rolled his hips. He hoisted your leg over his hip as he bent down to kiss your neck. ‘Fuck baby’ he growled, his voice low and demanding. His warm breath tickled your collarbone as he panted against your skin.

He rested his hand on your throat as his pace quickened, whimpers and moans fell from his swollen lips. Throwing his head back he muttered praises to you under his strained breath. ‘Feels so good sweetheart … so fuckin good.’ Standing back up he pulled your arms onto your stomach ‘play with yourself, I wanna see.’

Needing no more direction you began to press firm circles into your clit. He watched as your hips rolled, as your thighs tried to clench against his thighs. ‘Cum on my cock, atta girl.’ Feeling you tighten against him he dropped his pace to a agonisingly slow crawl. You felt the familiar but all too forgotten tightness build in your core, locking eyes with him your orgasm washed over you. Brow furrowed as you groaned into your gag, your muffled noises of ecstasy only drove him further into the abyss of his own euphoria.

Pulling out he forcefully sat you up ‘on your fuckin knees.’ You slid off the desk and onto your knees, still completely drunk on your orgasm. He pulled out your gag and slid it into his pocket. You finally took in a much needed breath as you wet your lips. Knowing exactly what to do you placed his cock in your mouth tasting yourself as you started to move. Curling his fingers in your hair he assisted your bobbing motions, pushing further into the back of your throat.

Gagging around his cock the vibrations added a new layer of pleasure to his already brewing climax. Tears pricked the corners of your eyes as he fucked your throat, he pulled out briefly, allowing you to breathe. Before driving his cock to the back of your mouth, gripping his thighs your nails left crescent moon indents in his skin. He caressed your jaw as he pursed his lips ‘good fucking girl.’

Pulling out he gripped your chin opening your mouth, ‘keep it open.’ Sticking your tongue out a filthy smile spread across your face. He pumped his cock a few more times and came over your glistening tongue, struggling to muffle his strained moans. The familiar tangy taste of his cum sank into your tastebuds. Before he allowed you to swallow he spat directly onto your cum covered tongue. ‘Now … swallow.’

He watched as your throat bobbed, swallowing the mixture of his spit and cum. Licking your lips you fixed your hair and slowly rose to your feet. Keegan pulled you into a passionate embrace, he allowed his hands roam your body. ‘Gonna be the death of me Nox.’

————

Taglist - @sashadiurnal @taurus-ted @shyerue @polishcodfan @ave661 @bubble-dream-inc @pasta-m1lk

#call of duty #keegan cod #keegan x reader #keegan russ x reader #keegan p russ smut #keegan p russ #keegan smut #call of duty keegan #keegan x you #keegan russ #keegan russ smut #cod ghosts

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lazyneonrabbitt · 7 months

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Anyway I can request a Lip/Reader/Carmy imagine about the reader being pregnant (and of course the guys don’t care who’s baby it is because they’re all in a relationship together so they’re in this together regardless of who’s it is) and the guys helping her through a really complicated pregnancy?

Okay this one got LONG. I'm absolitely terrified of getting pregnant so there's a whole lot of anxiety in this one.

CW: unplanned pregnancy and all its horrors, anxiety and medication, mentions of childbirth and c-sections.

The second you saw those two lines appear you spiraled. Both of the boys being at work leff enough room in the quiet appartment for your mind to start screaming at you.

Who's was it? Would you have to get it checked? Before or after the baby was born? Should you even keep it? You didn't plan this. What if they fought over who was the father?would either of them leave if they learned the baby was the other's?

You went to bed, not caring about anything you were supposed to do that day. You only wanted sleep. You eventually passed out after crying for god knows how long.

Your boys were going on a grocery run after work so they came home together, both carrying bags inside, only to be welcomed by the sound of the TV and half eaten breakfast on the coffee table. You were nowhere to be seen but your shoes and bag were at the door so you had to be home.

It was Lip's years of living with his family that set off his instincts to go find you ASAP. "Go put the freezer stuff away. I'll go see if I can find her." Carmen agreed and took the extra bags to put the frozen goods away quickly while Lip went straight for the shower, checking the tub, shower cabin and around the corner at the toilet. No sight of you so he moved to the guest bedroom where you would often be digfing through old items, sorting them out and organizing to keep your mind busy, mayne you had just forgotten the time. But you weren't there either so he almost ran into the bedroom where you were curled up underneath messy blankets. Your phone on the floor with an empty nox of tissues, the contents of which were all over the place.

"Yo Bear. Over here, now." Lip's voice summoned him in an instant, panic clear in his eyes as he stared at Lip for an answer.

They both stepped closer and sat down on either side of the bed. Carmen carefully climbed over to sit closer to you, moving quietly so he wouldn't wake you when his hand landed on something underneath the blankets, pushing them aside to take the item off the bed.

"Oh fuck, Lip.." He held up the item for him to see. The oh so familiar white stick in the other's hand spiked all kinds of emotions, snatching the thing to take a closer look.

A positive pregnancy test sat between his fingers. He ran a hand down his face with a deep sigh and stood up. "You wake her up, I'm calling the clinic." And with that he turned to walk out the door. "Lip!" Carmen whisper-yelled to get him to stay. "How about we talk to her first before making her decisions, huh?" Carmen waa clearly angry, but he was also right. Lip's past hadn't been too kind when it came to unplanned pregnancies and he wasn't planning to go through that shit again, but you were all adults, in a healthy relationship, with stable jobs and proper income now, so talking was step one now.

Carmen's movement had stirred you awake, blinking the sleep from your eyes and stretching before sitting up and taking in your surroundings. Carmen sat beside you with a hand on your blanket covered leg and Lip stood at the end of the bed with a nervous leg bouncing against the other, brows raised in question and holding something out in his hand. When you realised what it was the panic returned tenfold. Tears flowing freely and your breathing becoming irregular as the questions from earlier haunted your mind again.

"Sweetheart, calm down. We're not mad okay? We just want to talk about it." You were cuddled into Carmen's side, sniffling and wiping your eyes. "He's mad.." you hiccuped as you averted Lip's gaze. Carmen immediately reassured you that he wasn't and keeping his eyes locked on the other boy. Lip got the hint and came over to sit with you, placing the test on your nightstand and laid down to hug you both. "We'll do this together. Whatever you decide to do, we're supporting you."

You stayed like that for a while untill you were all calmed down again and getting hungry.

You collectively decided on ordering in, sat around the coffee table sharing the large order of chinese food. Lip called it comfort food, Carmen said celebratory dinner. Which led to the inevitable conversation to be had.

You shared ebery little concern and anxiety inducing thought with them and so did Lip, opening up to Carmen about his life and the comment he made earlier. Carmen listened to you both and after what felt like years of talking about plans, options, money and anything that would come with having a child you collectively decided to keep it.

Which led the three of you to your first appointment, first ultrasound and many, many nights of you being plagued by nightmares followed by puking up your insides, failing to go back to sleep and lots of anxiety.

Both boys did anything and everything for you, but the stress and constant anxiety the pregnancy was causing you was getting dangerously close to harming the baby's development.

During that first dinner talk you told them that the whole pregnancy thing terrified you but their support had made you feel a lot more comfortable with the idea, despite all the horror stories that had scared you away from even ever letting Lip fuck you without a condom in college even when you were on birth control.

At the hospital you got called into the nurse's room for your next appointment. Today was another ultrasound day, with a checkup on your mental health now that you were given medication to calm your head and supplements to make sure the baby would get all the needed nutrients.

"So, are you the momma's brothers?" The nurse's question came out of nowhere and caught them off guard, not having an answer fast enough so she kept the questions going. "You know we get multiple girls here who don't remember how they got pregnant. There's no shame in not knowing who the father is."

"It's either of us, actually." Carmen shot at the nurse. "We're together, the three of us." Lip pointed between the thee of you.

"So, you would like to get a DNA test done as well then." It was more of a statement than a question, but before she could even type anything into the computer Lip was on her ass already. "We don't want a fucking test, okay. We're here for you to check if our girl and our-" making a grand gesture to point at all three of you. "baby is healthy."

The appointment itself went well but the news that came with it was a whole different story.

All three of you couldn't keep their eyes off the small picture Lip was holding as you sat on the couch. Both boys couldn't help but be even more excited than bafore as you stared in horror at the second blob on the ultrasound that had decided to only now show itself.

You were having twins. The only stupid solution to give both boys a baby without having to get pregnant again at a later time, but also twice the amount of baby to give birth to. The one thing that still haunted your nightmares through the amount of medication you were taking.

With the news of twins you started having small complications. Most of them very common and easy to fix, but for you they all felt like the end of your life, the end of your relationship but neither Lip nor Carmy was letting those demons take over your thoughts. They did everything in their power to keep you content and wouldn't leave you alone for even a second. Their work schedules thrown apart so at least one of them would be home at all times. Every little cramp or concern had one or both of them drive you to your doctor who would mostly tell you your discomforts were normal for someone as far along as you.

The further along you got the more miserable you got, to the point of being unable to keep even the slightest bit of food in your system which led to more hospital trips to get you on liquids in order to keep your strenght up.

Now at eight months you were in bed most of the time, only getting up when needed.

You only had two more weeks before you were due, both Lip and Carmy being home to care for you.

Carmen was making you a simple meal he knew you would be able to handle and Lip busied himself with the final touches in the nursery when, with no warning up front or anything, your water broke as you waddled over to the bathroom.

"Help." The desperate, frantic voice had your boys on you in a second, the tears and the way you wrapped yourself around the door handle with your soaked, crossed legs told them enough. Carmen ran to grab your bag and car keys, making sure he snagged the new pack of smokes from the key bowl as he opened the door for you and Lip.

Luckily the hospital was only a few blocks over and fraffic was nonexistent.

The hospital visit wasn't such a smooth ride. After hours upon hours spent in that bed on god knows how many drugs you were brought in for emergency c-section to prevent any harm to both you and the twins. You cried and begged to just knock you out and take them out of you and to your luck they complied.

When the doctors woke you back up again you were acompanied by your boyfriends, each holding one of your children.

Upon release you made another appointment with your doctor. As soon as you were completely healed you were getting your tubes tied. No more of this. You had your two babies and no more were gonna be born from your body.

#sometimes i write #rabbitt answers #chicago boys #carmen berzatto #lip gallagher #carmy berzatto #carmen berzatto x reader #carmy berzatto x reader #lip gallagher x reader #the bear #shameless #gallzatto x reader

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