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merrock · 9 months

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CHARACTER INFORMATION

face claim: Alycia Debnam-Carey

full name: Sybil Danvers

nickname(s) / goes by: Billie

pronouns & gender: She/her & Cis woman

sexuality: Bisexual

birth date: April 29, 1991

birth place: Port Mansfield, Texas

arrival to merrock: January 2023

housing: Rural Country Side

occupation: Horse Ranch Owner & Part-Time Boat Mechanic

work place: Danvers Farm

family: Father & Brother - Estranged

relationship status: Single

PERSONALITY

Billie prefers the company of her horses to people. They bring to her a peace and tranquility that shatters the moment she is surrounded by other human beings. With their soft snorts and kind eyes they can see her beneath the scars that she bears. She has the typical no-nonsense ranch attitude. Her hands can be soft and tempered or fists ready to fight. Sometimes on days where the PTSD is worse or the frustrations of life get to her she will seek out a fight. Sometimes in clubs getting paid for her efforts and sometimes with a random loud-mouth asshole from the bar. She refuses to talk about her past to just anyone and most don’t know how she got the burn scars that adorn the left side of her body. The worst of them are hidden by t-shirts and jeans. That’s her typical style. An outfit easy to ride in and cowboy boots. Her days are spent doing ranch work and she doesn’t much care what she looks like for that. Getting dressed up consists of showering and putting on a clean outfit. Gatherings with large crowds are difficult for her and she won’t attend unless forced or cajoled. The only type of crowds that are comfortable are ones coming to watch a fight or those at rodeos and ranching events. None of those people care about her past or what she looks like, just the quality of the work that she does.

WRITTEN BY: Bird (she/her), cst.

BACKGROUND / BIO

triggering / sensitive content: assault mention, injury, mental health/ptsd, torture mention, military, manslaughter/death

ADMIN NOTE: heavily describes time in the military, mentions of torture, psychological health, and death/manslaughter; please use caution if these things are upsetting to you.

Sybil was born a miracle, her parents having given up hope of ever conceiving; options were limited in the small town and money was always tight. That’s just how it was for a cattle farmer in the middle of nowhere Texas. Though the Danvers' struggled to make ends meet, Billie, as she came to be called, had a rich childhood. What she lacked in material possessions she made up for in adventure. She started to learn to ride before she could walk and at the age of five was given her first mount; a pony named Chick-A-Dee. The two were inseparable, galivanting off with one of the family’s farm dogs in tow to check out every nook and cranny of her daddy’s huge property. With hardly any other kids around she learned to rely on her own company. Occasionally there would be an incident, a broken arm from climbing up a tree or a deep cut to the forehead that left a scar across one eyebrow. Once when she was ten the new horse she’d been tasked with breaking had bucked her off a ways from home. Knocked out cold, she was awoken by the shouts of her daddy and his ranch hands. Scared of what could have happened, her daddy put her to work on the farm, the time for adventures was over. That was how she learned to work.

Other kids in their small high school would complain of having to do their evening chores or because their parents wouldn’t extend curfew. Billie however was typically up before the sun feeding and watering the horses and making sure their stalls were clean. After school and homework she was taken out on the range by her daddy to learn how to doctor cattle and manage a herd. There were a lot of kids who would have complained, but she loved it. Much more than her little brother who had come along when she was four. He’d been born right on the couch, the labor having gone too fast to make it to the hospital. Billie doted on her brother and despite the age gap the two were inseparable. Everything changed when their mama died.

It was a freak car accident. A deep hole on a dirt road caused the truck to flip. Not one of them got to say goodbye. After that her daddy changed. He became more gruff and stern. Where once there had been time for fun now all he did was work and make his kids work. Billie loved her father, but when the for-sale signs went up she knew it was time to get out before the town swallowed her. Her grades in highschool had been less than stellar, more focus always having been put on the work at the ranch and so at eighteen she did the only thing she could think to do and enrolled in the United States Armed Forces.

Wiry with muscle from her work on the ranch, basic training was a breeze. Billie was used to the early morning wakeups and late nights and was already familiar with the weight of a rifle. Her work ethic got her noticed by the right people and as she moved through the ranks she was given the opportunity to join Special Forces. Her brother was furious when he learned of her decision. He already hated that she risked her life overseas fighting in a war he’d grown up not believing in, that she had left her father and him in their grief. He resented her. Warned her that nothing good would come of staying so long away from family. She had simply scoffed. He should have been proud of her, like their daddy was. Whenever she was home on leave he would boast to the people in their new town about the work that she was doing and how important it was. How amazed and proud he was that he had raised a daughter who decided to serve her country.

For her part Billie fell in love with the army. The structure in the rank and the camaraderie developed with the other soldiers made her feel at home even when they were thousands of miles away and on enemy territory. That feeling became even stronger when she was finally assigned to her Special Forces unit. One of only a few women, she had to work twice as hard to prove herself as capable as the men but once she had they showed her the respect she deserved. That hadn’t always been the case in some of her other units; some had sought to keep her down the only way those men seemed to know how: by force. After the first assault went unprosecuted by the military she learned to fight. To land blows and kicks that let her attackers know she meant business. Nothing was ever reported by the men; to do so would have meant they would have had to admit what they were trying to do in the first place. Eventually, they learned she wasn’t one of the ones who could be messed with.

With her time in special ops her body count grew. She stopped seeing people as people. They were a mission to complete or an obstacle that kept her unit from reaching its intended goal. Billie wasn’t heartless but it was the way she coped with the violence of her career. It wasn’t until her unit was attacked that a new emotion came into play: hate. A deeprooted rage that scortched her very being. The day had started calmly enough, everything seemed ordinary, the lookouts were unalarmed and a game of soccer was happening out back behind one of the tents. That’s when the bomb hit. All Billie remembers of that event itself is waking up to the sound of screams as men whose faces she couldn’t make out through the pain went through and ended most of her unit. She, along with three others, were taken. They were the least gravely injured though still hurt. Billie herself suffered from second degree burns along the left side of her body and her arm was broken in three places. The enemy doctors bandaged them up. Then began the torture. At first it was subtle; withholding food and water, pain medicine and antibiotics. When they still refused to cooperate it increased. To protect itself her mind went blank. There are no clear memories of that time which she can recall; only after laying in a safe hospital bed. It was there she learned that the others had died. The failure to save them, though misplaced, weighed heavily on her. Survivors’ guilt. Her dad and brother came to visit but she couldn’t bear to see them. She had failed. Let her friends be killed, tortured. She should have done something, anything. That shame weighed her down like Dorothy’s house atop the wicked witch. A feeling that became even stronger when the PTSD episodes began. When finally she was discharged, her side permanently scarred, hearing partially damaged, and arm healed, Billie fled as from the life she knew as possible. That was how she ended up in New York City.

Unable to hold down a job she turned to what she knew; fighting. It was the only way to take in money as she refused the benefits offered to veterans. She didn’t deserve them. Just as she was beginning to feel secure, as the effects of the PTSD began to lessen, an accident happened. She had been walking home from a fight when a man bumped into her. Something in the way he walked, the sound of his voice, triggered her. Even now she cannot think of what it was. Billie exploded. All of the suppressed rage and terror and anguish that she held bottled up within her evaporated. It is all clear now. Now she can remember every detail either from what she was told or the evidence presented to her by her lawyer while she was locked in a psych ward. Three officers had been needed to pull her off of the man while she yelled and screamed and begged to know why he had done this to her. To her friends. Why did they all have to die? It took almost a week and a strong regiment of meds to bring her back to herself. Her shame deepened. This man hadn’t been a threat to herself. Wasn’t a target of the gang. He’d been an innocent man on his way home from work. The rest of her life flashed before her eyes. Manslaughter. Murder. Serious charges that had been leveled against her. If the district attorney hadn’t declined to prosecutem, she would be in jail. Realizing a city full to the brim with people wasn’t the place for her, she moved on.

Billie came to settle in Merrock, main. Her savings from fights and her time in the military allowed her to purchase a small farm on significant acreage. It took a few months and quite a bit of money but eventually Danvers Farm was up and running. A working horse ranch, it provides well-trained ranch horses to other farmers and ranchers as well as horses fit for competition in roping, reining, and barrels. The farm is her happy place and while it hasn’t yet turned a profit, she could never imagine giving it up. To supplement her income she’s been working as a boat mechanic. Her days consist of trailering a horse down to the docks and riding along them assisting those who can afford to pay. For more significant work the vessel can be hauled to an outbuilding on her land where she can spend some extra time tinkering with it. She’s now lived in Merrock for six months and the peace of the farm and tranquility of the water have been healing. Billie hasn’t had any more episodes. Still, she remains private and is finding it hard to make connections with how guarded her heart is. As time continues to pass, she secretly hopes to make this community her family.

#merrockbio #sybildanvers #assault tw #mental health tw #ptsd tw #military tw #manslaughter tw #death tw

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sunny6677 · 9 months

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Flames.

Summary: Skid is saved from a situation he never thought he'd be in. But now he has to heal from everything he went through. And he doesn't know how.

Chapter 12: A Memory.

TWS: SKID HAS A FLASHBACK AGAIN, SKID DISSOCIATES????, KIDNAPPING IMPLICATIONS, TRAUMA IMPLICATIONS, VERY STRONG CHILD ABUSE IMPLICATIONS, IMPLIED PHYSICAL ABUSE, PROFANITY, SKID IS VERY TRAUMATIZED AND ANXIOUS, SELF BLAME.

(SERIOUSLY. SKID GOES THROUGH A LOT IN THIS SHIT. BE WARNED. YES, THIS IS A STORY ABOUT HIM SLOWLY HEALING FROM HIS TRAUMA, OR AT LEAST TRYING TO. BUT THAT DOESNT MEAN ITS NOT SOMEWHAT DARK. BE WARNED. DONT WORRY THOUGH, IT DOESNT ROMANTICIZE ANY OF THE DARK THINGS IN IT THOUGH. IT IS POTRAYED AS A BAD THING. THIS IS JUST ABOUT SKID HEALING FROM A BAD EXPERIENCE.)

(I ALSO PARTIALLY WROTE THIS STORY TO KINDA COPE WITH MY TRAUMA, SINCE WRITING ABOUT PEOPLE SLOWLY HEALING FROM THEIR TRAUMA KINDA MAKES ME FEEL BETTER ABOUT MY OWN EXPERIENCES.)

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For the rest of the night, Skid had temporarily slept inside of his mother's room.

His mother had a soft but comforting grip around him as he slept beside her, her face buried into the back of his head. He had stopped crying many minutes ago, yet his eyes still felt dry from the sheer amount of tears that had seeped out of his eyes. His tiny hand remained gripping on the sheets of the already dark bedroom. Skid tried his best to keep his eyes closed, considering anytime he did, his mind played tricks on him.

Often, this did occur even before he was.. taken. It was a natural thing for human beings to experience after all. If he kept his eyes open in the dark for too long, he would start to see things. He would think things would move, he'd think he'd see something lurking in the dark. But alas, it would always be nothing but his mind. For he was bound to either find out that it was merely the paranoia of his brain, or it was just some random object in the dark.

Skid opened his eyes for only a moment. He saw a silhouette of the coat rack beside the door, which his mother would often go to whenever she was throwing on clothes for work, or whenever it was cold outside.

Many coats hung on the frame of the coat rack, and Skid could recognize one of them as the one his mother wore whenever he went over to Pump's house that one time. He shivered a little, thinking of what had happened with that Happy Fella doll that very same night. Even if it had been a fairly long time ago, it still frightened him. And even if he remembered that the doll was basically dead due to he and Pump shoving it in the oven, he could still remember the way it melted. If he were the same as he had been then, he wouldn't feel scared. But now, it.. felt as if things were different.

He looked at the coat rack again. The frame of it oddly resembled a man. A tall man, in fact. It was only his imagination, of course. But he couldn't help but think it looked like a man. An oddly familiar frame of a man in fact.

...

He let out a small whimper, clenching his eyes shut. He gripped the sheets harder as a bead of sweat rolled down his cheek.

In response, his mother held him tighter, and gently rubbed his head. She softly shushed him, "..shhh.. its okay.". Skid would have pulled at his hair out of stress if it wasn't for the grip his mother had on him right now. "It was just a nightmare.. you're okay.." She whispered to him gently, rubbing her fingers through the tendrils of his hair still.

He didn't even bother to open his eyes. He didn't want to look at anything anymore. He just didn't want to see anything anymore. He didn't want to be anything anymore.

He didn't want to feel anything anymore.

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Morning soon came, and sunlight poured upon the town from outside. Skid had already been out of bed, for he was awoken by his mother. His mother wouldn't be taking the day off of work like she did yesterday. He still felt a little ashamed of what he did yesterday. He caused a scene, and probably worried the heck out of Kevin. He freaked out more than he should have. Guilt coursed through him like a wave of thundering emotions ever still, pounding within him like the flap of a butterflys wings.

He wanted to apologize to Kevin for what happened yesterday, even if he had already. But he didn't know how he would if he couldn't even go to the candy store without causing such a ruckus over such a small thing. And as to what such a small thing was, he still didn't know.

His mother was still present, for it was morning, and soon she'd be taking him to Pump's house. After all, it was what was always done whenever she had to go to work. He'd be thrown under Mr. Wonder's care until she got back. Rays of light seeped from the window from outside. His mother was making him breakfast, and currently, he was in the kitchen. He was waiting for her to finish making breakfast, since he didn't want to make her angry or anything. Wait—no, no. She wouldn't be angry. She wasn't..

He shook his head. He was beginning to grow tired of his new anxieties.

His mother was beside the kitchen counter, seemingly making a simple stack of pancakes for both him and her. There were even two plates of crispy bacon beside the stack of pancakes. He couldn't really do much but watch in anticipation as she kept cooking. He wondered why and where she had gotten such good cooking skills sometimes. Was it a natural born skill for any type of parent? If so, then it certainly didn't count for..

He shook his head again. Now wasn't the time to be thinking such thoughts.

Eventually, upon hearing the sounds of the still sizzling bacon coming closer, he realized that his mother had been done with the cooking. He heard the clinking of the plate being placed upon the table. He blinked, contorting his head in the direction of where the plate had presumably been. His mother was now standing beside the table with a somewhat nervous smile. The plate now had both bacon and pancakes on it. He smiled, hunger aching within his stomach. A need for digestion coursed through him and splashed within like a writhing waterfall.

His mother then walked over to her chair, and sat in it, looking at him with an anxious gaze. Her hair was tied up in a ponytail, like it had been ever since he reunited with her. He wasn't really used to seeing her hair like that, considering he always remembered it being down. But it wasn't like he minded it or anything. It was just going to take some getting used to considering that within the few days Skid had been back, she never took it down.

Skid then grabbed weakly at a piece of bacon, and slowly pulled it towards his mouth. He took a small bite out of it, still a little paranoid of vomiting again. It was good. Just like all her cooking had been. The flavor washed within Skid's mouth, feeling like a liquid of heaven had been spilled upon him if only for a moment. If it were possible, he'd have stars in his eyes. Even so, he only took small bites out of it. It was weirdly funny. Had he been the same as he was before he was taken, he would have basically consumed every bit of it already.

As he continued to eat, his mother spoke up. "So, uh.. are you excited to see your friend again?"

Skid paused. He then looked up at her, but only for a small moment. He quickly looked away again, averting his gaze. "U—Uh.. yeah, I am."

His mother went quiet for a moment. Skid could hear the close sounds of her silverware clinking against the plate. "Are—are you sure? You don't look too excited."

Skid replied, "I—I am! I promise.. I just don't think I feel too good."

His mother went quiet again. "Well.. hey, I know things have been hard since you came back. But.. maybe seeing your friend will make you feel happy again!"

"Yeah.. if I don't ruin it this time." Skid mumbled softly under his breath.

"What was that?" His mother asked, seeming curious.

His trembling voice immediately stammered back, "No—Nothing! Don't worry about it.."

There was silence that filled the room once more.

"Sweetie.. are you sure you're okay?"

Skid gulped.

"..yeah, I'm okay. I promise.."

————

Skid had currently been in the living room by now. His mother was preparing herself to drop him off. He had been waiting for about 10 minutes right now, sitting in front of the couch as the artifical light from above still rained down upon him like an unnatural force.

He could hear the faint buzzing of it. It buzzed like a fly scattering around and searching for a way of its survival. The TV had been flipped to some random horror movie he hadn't exactly seen before. His mother hadn't turned it on for him. He had actually. He felt a little proud of himself for being able to do such a thing on his own. Perhaps he was more capable than he originally thought.

On the screen, there was a child character seemingly hiding from what Skid could obviously tell was a threat. The child character was in a closet as ominous ambience played on the movie. Skid cocked his head to the side, watching with nervous happiness. He felt almost nervous that he was happy. Anxious that he was happy. Fearful that he was happy. But he wasn't sure why.

Artificial light continued to buzz from above, immortal in sound. It would only ever stop if he turned the light off. But he had been too focused on the movie to really do that. Staring at the TV screen, he was continuing to watch the movie despite the internal dread he felt. Like something bad was about to happen.

The child character walked slowly off screen as ominous footsteps were heard in the background. There was a shadow of two feet walking by the door, stopping for only a moment, only to move again. The movie was doing an oddly good job at keeping the aura and feel of the whole scene ominous. Whoever the film director had been must have been really cool.. or at least that was what Skid had thought to himself.

The child character let out a sigh of relief. Skid watched with raised shoulders, his hands clenching onto his legs. He was internally preparing for some kind of jumpscare. Despite his now anxious nature, he couldn't help but feel a little excited. He always got some sort of childish glee out of horror movies after all. As he watched with bated breath, the child character began to walk toward the door slowly, as if to walk out. Slowly, slowly. Closer, closer. Skid's eyes shimmered with delight as if seemingly built up to the jumpscare.

Yet as the child character got close to the door, and slowly wrapped their hand around the door handle.. nothing happened. No jumpscare had occurred. Skid felt confused, wondering why it hadn't followed the usual horror movie trope of unnecessary scares. That was what he loved about horror movies after all. He cocked his head to the side a few more inches, arching his brow. The child character slowly peeked out of the door, a dark hallway being revealed as they held a flashlight up nervously. Nothing else had occurred but the sound of complete silence.

The child character began to slowly walk out of the door, seemingly aiming to find some way of quietly escaping. They continued to walk, trying to be quiet. The film could pick up the sounds of their footsteps making the wood planks creak. Though as they did, they suddenly stopped in their tracks. Despite Skid's confusion, he continued to watch with great curiosity, wondering what they had seen.

The child character looked downwards at whatever they had seen. They had stepped on something. The camera slowly panned to what appeared to be.. an ominous child-like drawing of some kind. A.. A drawing. A paper with a badly drawn horrific figure of a man upon it and some child.

Skid continued to look at the screen, almost hypnotized. A feeling of sticky dread made its way to his head, making it feel as if he was experiencing some kind of pain within. He held his tiny hand to his forehead, and pressed his palm against his skin. What was this feeling? A coat of sweat began to form on Skid's face as he tried to keep looking at the screen, but he just couldn't pay attention. And.. and he didn't know why he couldn't.

A flash of a memory them occurred within his mind. It was something he already remembered, but it felt.. vivid for some reason now. Like he was experiencing it again. In his memory, he could internally see.. Keender. He could internally picture himself sitting in the dirty living room of Keender's house, drawing on a slightly ripped piece of paper. The paper had been ripped because Skid had struggled to get it out from where he found it.

He remembered what he drew. Sort of, anyway. It was a drawing of him inside of the house, and a drawing of Keender right next to him. He drew himself frowning with tears pouring out of his eyes. Keender had been standing next to him in the drawing, bared teeth in his snarl. He looked abnormally big in the drawing, and Skid wasn't sure why. He seemed as tall as the house even, yet somehow he still looked to fit inside.

A feeling of dread began to internally overwhelm him. The memory kept flashing at him. He remembered Keender coming in with a rough pound of his footsteps hitting the ground as if he were smacking it with his bare hands. Keender had always walked like that, and due to it, Skid couldn't ever really tell if he was angry or not.

He could see Keender's irritated expression within his mind, his teeth bared just like the drawing. He was angry. Skid knew it so. Skid felt a wave of anxiety flush through him, just like it had then. He remembered looking at Keender for only a moment, before looking away. He could recall Keender cursing under his breath, saying something along the lines of, "God.. its fucking hot.. its warmer than the fires of hell.. I swear to.."

He could remember Keender then going quiet, and the feeling of intense anxiety splashing over him whenever he felt his gaze set upon him. He remembered Keender growling, saying between angered gasps, "What the fuck do you think you're doing, kid? Where'd you get that paper from?"

Skid could remember him not being able to answer, for he was too frightened. Nothing else came out of his mouth but a short gasp. He remembered looking up at Keender, or at least forcing himself to. Finally, after a bit, he remembered himself saying in a meek tone, "..I.. I dunno." It was a lie, obviously. But it was an automatic response to Keender's anger that he couldn't really help but say.

"Bullshit.." Keender would curse behind his tone of anger, "Give that here!"

Keender then suddenly launched foward, and grabbed the paper before Skid could even take it from him. Skid wouldn't even dare try, for he feared being hurt again. He feared the feeling of Keender's sharp and painful slaps. Skid couldn't remember what else had really happened in that moment. No.. no, wait.. he could.

He could remember Keender looking at the drawing, only to look at him with a sharp and angry gaze. Skid remembered that automatically, an apology began to slip out of his mouth. And then.. Keender's hand had suddenly balled up and began to move closer to his face in an agonizing move of harm—

"Sweetie! I'm done changing! Are you ready to go see your friend?"

Skid blinked, suddenly snapped out of his memory. His head contorted to the direction of the voice, only to realize that it was his mother speaking from another room. She sounded as if she were nearby, most likely near the entrance already. Skid then felt sharp pants slipping from out of his tiny mouth, feeling as if he had just ran some sort of marathon. A bead of sweat was still rolling down his skin as he looked on with anxious eyes. His pupils were shaking with a blinding tint of fear.

Yet even so, he gulped, keeping down the urge to cry once more. He wasn't going to ruin everything. He couldn't ruin everything again.

Ignoring the agonizing memory the best he could in his mind, he spoke the best he could in a steady voice, and said, "Ye—Yeah! Coming, mom!"

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#spooky month #skid spooky month #lila spooky month #flames spooky month chapter 12 #flames spooky month #read the tws

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flurty · 2 years

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Her Foggy Curtain

Summary: Frank is set to meet a god his fool's journey has been leading him up to face. Only, he's alone. Not for a lack of trying, but it seems the foggy curtain spares nobody. He thinks about those who he's lost as he goes to face his fate.

Wordcount: 1,846

He laid the familiar weight of his baseball bat against his shoulder as he walked down the tormented hall. It bared the memories of a previous fight. His eyes traces gashes in walls as he thought back.

---

Jason. His best friend. Dude had taken a bullet for him. He survived it, thankfully, after a lengthy visit to the hospital. Frank recalled the time he had spent in that hospital room waiting for him to wake up. The guilt of his negligence weighed on his shoulders heavily between the shot and Jason's waking up.

The first thing Jason did after waking up and getting his bearings was to laugh. Then, after seeing his confusion, patted his knee and said, "Always told you I'd jump in front of a bullet for you!"

It took Frank a minute, but he joined in on the laughing too. Even with the threat of Mnemosyne hanging over their heads, it was a welcome relief from the nights climbing the dreamscape's mountain.

That was, until, Jason couldn't escape her foggy curtain. He had been one of the first to forget.

---

He grimaced, a particular bloodstain on the staircase stirring a whirlwind of emotion before he shoved it back down. Now was not the time. Not when Jason couldn't remember him. When Jason couldn't remember what he had fought for.

He entered the next floor and continued his lonely walk.

---

His classmates often liked to call him names and bully him when he had first started school there. He had been a transfer student, his father shipping him off to help his mother in a town he had no memories of. Not because of the goddess, but rather because he had only been in the town for a year or two as a baby before his parents took him away.

After a month or two, the bullying died down, thankfully. He made a few friends, he joined a few clubs, he helped around the town. Eventually he even started to get a little popular.

Random hello's and hi's would fill his day in the school's halls. It made him smile, even toward the end of the school year. Knowing that even if he had the threat of her over him, he was able to escape that fate for another day.

Until, one day, he had walked into the school and was stared at by his classmates. Even they couldn't escape her foggy curtain. They had forgotten the day after Jason had forgotten.

---

It's heartbreaking, knowing that he had been forgotten by his best friend and his classmates. Still, he couldn't let that shake his will. His indomitable will, as his attendant had called it. He felt his persona's aura pulse, sending a calming wave through his being. He sighed, losing knots in his shoulder he hadn't realized he was carrying.

He climbed yet another set of staircases, and continued to meet her. His baseball bat traced his path behind him, scraping gently in that quiet night.

---

Jason's girlfriend, Erica, had been a surprise halfway through the school year. She had awoken to her power all on her own, and they had met on the mountain.

He and Jason had exchanged a flurry of fire and ice against her, only to be met with electricity. They had mistaken her for one of Mnemosyne's beings. After a quick apology, she introduced herself and they formed a group to climb her mountain.

In one of the many fights on that mountain, right before they had found the halls, Erica had been surprised by a lance from one of the beings. It was attuned to her weakness, wind, of course. Frank wasn't able to react in time, but Jason was. He shielded her from the hit, taking it himself. It barely affected him.

The next day they had shown up at school with lovesick grins, Erica couldn't stop leaning on his arm or hugging him. Still, their love had a special effect on their magic, and they rocketed to the halls and up the many staircases.

She had been heartbroken for a week when Jason had forgotten everything. She refused to come to school. Then a week later, she showed up for class as if nothing had happened. She didn't recognize him at all.

Even she couldn't escape her foggy curtain. She had been part of many who had forgotten about Frank.

---

He was reaching the top, he could feel her radiating presence just in the halls now. He could feel a writhing mass at the peripherals of his mind, but he didn't falter. His indomitable will overcame.

He could feel his muscles tense, eager to unleash his fury. She had taken everyone from him. Everyone. He was not going to show mercy.

---

A few weeks ago, he had gone to fuse stronger persona for this day. He went to the usual door that stood impossibly in the middle of the sidewalk in front of his favorite tea shop, blue in nature. He used his key and opened it, entering the Velvet Room.

The first time he entered the room, it was through a dream -- before his dreams had been flooded by the mountain. Her mountain. Igor, as he came to know him, was the host of the Velvet Room, and he had been given an attendant to help him with the process of fusing persona and offered other help. Her name was Agatha.

While she helped him with his persona, he helped her learn about humanity. He often brought her gifts and stuff from his time in the town. He even wrote her special little letters only for her.

For Igor, he had given a snow globe of his town. For her, his favorite gift he had given was a sapphire necklace.

When he entered the room a few weeks ago, it had its usual fixtures. But the host and the attendant never showed up.

It seems even the Velvet Room couldn't escape her foggy curtain. They had been some of the last who had forgotten about Frank.

---

His heart hurt, thinking about his favorite memories with Agatha and all the cryptic quotes Igor had spouted off. He thought about Jason, he thought about Erica, he thought about his classmates, he thought about his friends in town, he thought about everyone.

They had forgotten about him.

---

He had been called sometime late in the night to rush to the hospital where his mom was being kept. It seemed the disease that had been plaguing her for a decade was now overtaking her ability to even survive.

He rushed over in his pajamas, he didn't care. He called Jason, but he hadn't picked up. Of course he wouldn't have. Erica was still a mess, so he didn't want to bother her with this. None of his classmates would have cared. His father was across the world so he would either be asleep or just waking up.

He got to the hospital and rushed to his mother's room. The nurse had barely recognized him, but brought him to her anyway. His mom had demanded it.

There, with his mom's hand in his hand, he pleaded, he begged her not to go. To live. To survive.

But it wouldn't be so. His mother was simply at the end of her road.

"Frankie… I know it's hard to be strong, but you must… we both know you're meant for greatness… I love you."

There had been other words shared, but those were that struck him at his soul. What fueled his will. She had passed away hours later, with his dad on the phone. As soon as she passed away, he had hung up to get ready for work as he was late.

Frank was too lost in his grief to even be disgusted. He merely dropped the phone and cried.

The hospital security kicked him out later, not knowing how he had gotten in there or who he was.

His dad forgot about him weeks later, whether that's because he cared or because of Mnemosyne's power.

His mother never forgot about him. She had managed to escape her foggy curtain.

---

There he was, at the doors that lead to the peak of the mountain. He could feel his indomitable will gnashing at his skin, ready to burst to destroy this unfair goddess.

Mnemosyne, a goddess of memory, who stole his bonds. Who erased his presence in the lives of everyone who he cared about, and everyone who didn't.

Even the attendant nor the host could remember him. He had been forgotten by everyone.

Except himself. And his mother. He made a promise to her as she passed away. With that promise, he was set to destroy this goddess and lift this foggy curtain once and for all. No matter what it took.

For his classmates, for Jason, for Erica, for his dad (although he couldn't care any less for him), for the Velvet Room, for everyone.

He opened the door, and readied his baseball bat for whatever was on the other side.

---

Months later, after a battle only one man and one Goddess bore witness to, only one leaving it alive, Jason Silverleaf and his girlfriend pulled over into a convenience store's parking lot. He gave her a quick kiss before hopping out of the car and entering the store.

He picked out a few drinks and snacks for the trip, and he went up to the counter person to pay, who for some reason had a baseball bat leaning on the wall behind him. The attendant looked up from his magazine. His eyes widened, he dropped his magazine, and he braced himself by putting his hands on the counter.

"Jason?"

A minute passed. Then, Jason raised an eyebrow. "Do I know you?"

The silence hung for a second before resignation sunk into the attendant's eyes. "Ah, sorry, I must've mistook you for another Jason."

"That looked exactly like me?"

"Yeah, watch out, you have a doppelganger."

"Yeah, I guess."

The attendant started ringing out some of the items. "So, going on a trip or something?"

"Yeah, me and my girlfriend. We're heading up to a mountain lodge for a weekend."

A pause. "Erica?"

"Yeah, how'd you know?" At this point, Jason was a little unnerved. "Are you sure we haven't met?"

"Huh. Good for you, man." The attendant seemed to smile. It was a small smile, but a smile nonetheless.

"What's your name?"

"My name is Frank."

Jason seemed to still for a minute, a brief twinkle of recollection seemed to light up in his eyes before it quickly passed. He shrugged, extended a hand for a handshake. "My name's Jason, pleasure to meet you."

"Thank you. Will that be all?"

"Nah, that's it. How much?"

He quickly paid and left. Sharing the story with his girlfriend for a quick laugh, and they drove off.

The attendant sighed after he saw them turn out of the parking lot and head down the road. It seemed even he couldn't escape her foggy curtain. But everyone else did.

He could live with that.

#persona #frank everclear #oc #Mnemosyne #persona series #fanfiction #writing #my writing

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oddcyes · 1 year

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✰ it’s time to wake up, JOHN SHEPARD, you’ve been in cryosleep for too long and the people of MASS EFFECT miss you. when you went into slumber you were THIRTY SIX years old, your pronouns are HE / HIM, and you VOLUNTEERED for the cambria program. now that you’ve awoken, your position as a CHIEF HELMSMAN is waiting for you.

𝙱𝙰𝚂𝙸𝙲 𝙸𝙽𝙵𝙾𝚁𝙼𝙰𝚃𝙸𝙾𝙽 .

𝙽𝙰𝙼𝙴 . Jonathan Michael Shepard.

𝙰𝙻𝙸𝙰𝚂 . Commander , John.

𝙶𝙴𝙽𝙳𝙴𝚁 / 𝙿𝚁𝙾𝙽𝙾𝚄𝙽𝚂 . Cis Male , He / Him.

𝙱𝙸𝚁𝚃𝙷𝙳𝙰𝚈 / 𝚉𝙾𝙳𝙸𝙰𝙲 . The 11th of April , 2150 / Aries.

𝙵𝙰𝙲𝙴 𝙲𝙻𝙰𝙸𝙼 . Chris Wood.

𝙰𝙴𝚂𝚃𝙷𝙴𝚃𝙸𝙲𝚂 . The N7 signa branded onto every piece of armor you own , doing your duty no matter the cost , a crew that’s more family to you than friends , shoulders heavy from the weight of the world , a vodka cranberry after a long mission , upgrading your weapons to relax , Blasto movies watched on repeat.

𝙰 𝙳𝙴𝙴𝙿𝙴𝚁 𝙻𝙾𝙾𝙺 .

TW: Spoilers in Background.

𝙱𝙰𝙲𝙺𝙶𝚁𝙾𝚄𝙽𝙳 . John was taken from the ending of Mass Effect 3 , after he had made the decision to destroy the reapers , and he did survive , having been found by search teams some days after the battle was over. Whatever Cerberus did to him while he was being reconstructed aided his survival greatly , and without it he most likely would have died in the rubble before being found. Regarding John’s personal history , his would be Earthborn / Sole Survivor / Vanguard.

𝚆𝙴𝙰𝙿𝙾𝙽𝚂 . John doesn’t have any weapons that he prefers specifically , though he is more accustomed to using shotguns and sniper rifles over anything else.

𝙿𝙾𝚆𝙴𝚁𝚂 / 𝙰𝙱𝙸𝙻𝙸𝚃𝙸𝙴𝚂 / 𝚂𝙺𝙸𝙻𝙻𝚂 . John is a powerful biotic , and was one of the last L2′s , though that came with the side effect of crippling body pains at random times. He tends to use his biotics in offensively. John also has an improved physiology , with the Lazarus Project putting him at the peak of human performance. There aren’t many humans in his universe who are stronger or faster than him , or have as good as sight , hearing , or stamina as he does. Despite being a Vanguard , he has picked up a few technology tricks over his time as a Spectre , though he’s not anywhere near his friends’ level.

𝙶𝚁𝙴𝙰𝚃𝙴𝚂𝚃 𝚂𝚃𝚁𝙴𝙽𝙶𝚃𝙷 . John’s greatest strength is his strength. He is an extremely strong willed person , one who can withstand having the weight of the world literally on his shoulders , and still find a way to win.

𝙶𝚁𝙴𝙰𝚃𝙴𝚂𝚃 𝚆𝙴𝙰𝙺𝙽𝙴𝚂𝚂 . John’s greatest weakness is his loyalty , especially to those he becomes close to. He would do anything for his team , for his crew , including risking his life.

𝙾𝙽𝙴 𝙵𝙴𝙰𝚁 . His greatest fear is failure , particularly failing at saving everyone he can.

𝙾𝙽𝙴 𝙷𝙾𝙿𝙴 . For so long , it was to defeat the Reapers , but after he did that , he just hoped to find a new place in the world.

𝚃𝙷𝙴 𝚀𝚄𝙴𝚂𝚃𝙸𝙾𝙽𝙽𝙰𝙸𝚁𝙴 .

𝙷𝙾𝚆 𝙳𝙾𝙴𝚂 𝚈𝙾𝚄𝚁 𝙲𝙷𝙰𝚁𝙰𝙲𝚃𝙴𝚁 𝙵𝙴𝙴𝙻 𝙰𝙱𝙾𝚄𝚃 𝙱𝙴𝙸𝙽𝙶 𝙳𝚁𝙾𝙿𝙿𝙴𝙳 𝙸𝙽𝚃𝙾 𝚃𝙷𝙴 𝙲𝙰𝙼𝙱𝚁𝙸𝙰 𝙿𝚁𝙾𝙶𝚁𝙰𝙼? 𝙰𝚁𝙴 𝚃𝙷𝙴𝚈 𝙴𝚇𝙲𝙸𝚃𝙴𝙳? 𝚂𝚄𝚂𝙿𝙸𝙲𝙸𝙾𝚄𝚂? 𝙲𝙾𝙽𝙵𝚄𝚂𝙴𝙳?

John is excited about the idea of getting to be back on a ship , about exploring the unknown once again , of getting some familiarity back. After he was rescued , he was stuck in a hospital for weeks , and then he was relieved of duty as a thank you , but John had been a marine since he was eighteen , not having a next mission was unknown to him. Now that he’s here , he’s excited for what’s next.

𝚆𝙷𝙰𝚃 𝙳𝙾𝙴𝚂 𝚈𝙾𝚄𝚁 𝙲𝙷𝙰𝚁𝙰𝙲𝚃𝙴𝚁 𝙷𝙾𝙿𝙴 𝚃𝙾 𝚂𝙴𝙴 𝚃𝙷𝙴 𝙼𝙾𝚂𝚃 𝙳𝚄𝚁𝙸𝙽𝙶 𝚃𝙷𝙴 𝙲𝙰𝙼𝙱𝚁𝙸𝙰 𝙾𝙽𝙴’𝚂 𝙹𝙾𝚄𝚁𝙽𝙴𝚈?

He would like to discover something completely unknown to the world , even his own. Before John was an N7 soldier , he joined the Alliance under their science division , and was on Akuze to assist with testing. After Akuze , he was deemed too skilled to not be a front line fighter. But his scientific curiosity never went away , and had he not felt like it was his duty to help run the ship , he’d have volunteered for the science division.

𝙸𝙵 𝚈𝙾𝚄𝚁 𝙲𝙷𝙰𝚁𝙰𝙲𝚃𝙴𝚁 𝙲𝙾𝚄𝙻𝙳 𝙱𝚁𝙸𝙽𝙶 𝙾𝙽𝙴 𝚃𝙷𝙸𝙽𝙶 𝙾𝚁 𝙿𝙴𝚁𝚂𝙾𝙽 𝙵𝚁𝙾𝙼 𝙷𝙾𝙼𝙴, 𝚆𝙷𝙰𝚃 𝚆𝙾𝚄𝙻𝙳 𝙸𝚃 𝙱𝙴?

His first choices would be Garrus Vakarin and Tali’Zorah vas Normandy. The two of them have been with John through thick and thin , have stood beside him through everything. Being on a ship without the two of them is odd , and if they were here , he’d feel even better about things.

#cambria:intro #visuals: john shepard.#musings: john shepard.#threads: john shepard.#memes: john shepard.

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mrs-hatake · 2 years

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fluff alphabet ft sanemi

A - ATTRACTIVE (WHAT THEY FIND ATTRACTIVE)

someone with a cute smile. so cute that sanemi ends up dumbfounded during his many tantrums when you smile at him. he completely forgets what he was mad about in the first place because he's blinded by how bright you're smiling.

B - BABY (DO THEY WANT A FAMILY?)

yes, but not now. not until he has taken down muzan and sanemi is certain that the era of demons is finally over. that's when he'll seriously consider starting a family.

C - CUDDLE (HOW THEY CUDDLE)

sanemi would loosely hold you in his scarred arms as he absently traces his fingers across your naked shoulder as a means to ground him, to bring him back down from that dark cloud full of misery and frightening looking demons. he'd hold you tighter when sanemi remembers all of the people he had lost along his journey. sanemi would smile when he feels your lips pressing against his rough skin and he returns the kiss by pecking the top of your head, closing his eyes to welcome the warm embrace of sleep.

D - DATES (WHAT DATES WITH THEM ARE LIKE)

you don't go on dates in the demon slayer world. you'd just drop off his lunch during his training, join him and then return home to wait for him.

but in the modern world, your dates are very chill. your favorite type of date is when you wake up to see that sanemi had awoken earlier and has prepared a picnic basket for brunch. he'd drive you in his car to a river nearby and spreads the picnic blanket under a tree. after eating, he'd lie on the grass, arms pillowing his head, as you silently read your favorite book. it isn't grand but it's something that you both need after a long and tiring week at work.

E - EVERYTHING (YOU ARE MY…)

“you're my source of comfort. I'd be lost without you."

F - FEELINGS (WHEN THEY REALIZE THAT THEY LOVE YOU)

honestly sanemi is pretty oblivious to his own feelings towards you. he knows that you are someone he deeply cares for but he doesn't have a name for it. when kanae gently informs him that he has a crush on you, he'd blush (which he'd deny ever doing so) and dismiss her words. cause like, yeah, he cares for you but that doesn't mean he wants to...to kiss you, does it? yeah, your lips look pretty inviting. especially when you pout at him for being crude sometimes but that doesn't mean- oh, fuck. he really does want to kiss you. shit.

G - GENTLE (ARE THEY GENTLE?)

that's the thing about sanemi. you think he'd be rough and aggressive but you're pleasantly surprised to learn just how gentle he could be. he treats you as if you were made of glass, handles you the same way he'd handle a valuable jewel; with care.

it's a nice contrast to sanemi's appearance and his explosive personality.

H - HAND/HOLD (HOW DO THEY HOLD YOU? DO THEY HOLD HANDS?)

not in public. sanemi would hold your hands when you're in the comfort of your own home. when you're lazying about on the couch and sanemi's pinky interlocks with your own without his consent.

I - IMPRESSION (FIRST IMPRESSION)

sanemi thought you were very naive and clueless but ends up surprised by your intelligence. it's just that...he might end up having a heart attack whenever he sees you tripping over thin air.

you were curious about sanemi. he would yell at random times and you just wanted to understand the need for that. you've never imagined you'd end up getting closer to the white haired hashira and fall in love with him.

J - JOKER (DO THEY PULL PRANKS?)

not pull pranks but sanemi is the type to tease a lot when he's in the mood for it. they can be pretty vulgar at times too.

K - KISSES (HOW THEY KISS)

the one that leaves you weak in the knees as you struggle to breathe in as much air as you could through your nose as sanemi expertly slithers his tongue into your mouth. his talented tongue has you whimpering in delight as you struggle to stand up straight. but not to worry, sanemi has your thighs in an iron grip as he pulls them upwards to wrap your legs around him and gently pushes your back against the wall. the both of you sighing in delight at the close proximity, his cock teasing your wet pussy.

L - LITTLE THINGS (WHAT LITTLE THINGS THEY LOVE)

sanemi loves it when you comb your fingers through his hair, has him going feral. but he mostly doesn't do anything about it because he wants to relax and unwind. however, when he is in the mood, you're not leaving your bed for the next three hours.

M - MEMORY (FAVOURITE MEMORY TOGETHER)

sanemi's favorite memory was before you started dating. when he managed to walk all the way to your house, all bloody and beat up, and with little energy, knock your door. he doesn't remember much of that night but he does remember the way you delicately cleaned his wounds and bandaged him up. sanemi could vividly remember the concern in your eyes and how scared you must've felt. he quivers when he felt the ghost of your touch as your fingers trace along his new scars all those nights ago. i believe that's when sanemi allowed to open his heart to you.

N - NICKEL (DO THEY SPOIL?)

are the hashira even paid for their services? well, if they are, sanemi would spend some of it on those slightly expensive and beautiful looking hair ornaments. sanemi loves it when you style your hair in those complicated looking updos. he would admire it for hours before becoming impatient and smash his lips against yours while his fingers busy themselves with messing up your hair.

O - ORANGE (WHAT COLOR REMINDS THEM OF YOU)

sanemi is a beautiful pale lilac.

P - PETNAMES (WHAT PETNAMES THEY USE)

bro sanemi would COMBUST if he'd call you a petname. though, when he finally builds up the courage to call you something. it's usually between "honey, dear and love."

you would call sanemi "darling, angel and sweetie."

Q - QUESTIONS ( WHAT ARE THE QUESTIONS THEY’RE ALWAYS ASKING?)

sanemi asks "how do you always put up with me?"

R - REMEMBER (THEIR FAVOURITE MEMORY OF EACH OTHER)

sanemi's favorite memory of you was when you taught him how to back. sanemi would die before admitting that eating pastries was like being hugged by his mother. it was comforting and safe. something sanemi had yearned for before meeting you. of course, teaching sanemi meant that your kitchen is a total mess at the end of the day. but seeing the specks of flower littered on sanemi's face was worth the long cleaning process.

your favorite memory of sanemi was when he bought you a cow. your heart had fluttered when you realized that sanemi had been paying attention to the time you were complaining at the ridiculous increase of dairy in the farmer's market.

"so you don't have to spend so much." sanemi had muttered under his breath when you turned a questioning look that was lost in your joyous expression.

S - SAD ( HOW THEY CHEER THEMSELVES/OTHERS UP)

sanemi listens. he listens to everything that has you upset and tries with his very best to give you the best piece of advice he could think of. sometimes they aren't very great but it's the fact that despite being tired after intense training, he still listened to your anxious rambles.

sanemi likes to be comforted by physical touches. i imagine that sanemi completely shuts down when he's sad. doesn't want to do anything, doesn't want to talk to anyone. not even you. but, he's okay with you caressing him, leaving soft kisses and brushing your fingers through his hair.

T - TALKING ( WHAT THEY LOVE TO TALK ABOUT)

surprisingly, sanemi is pretty talkative when he isn't fueled by his hatred for the demons. he always knows some pretty cool facts that he loves to share with you. like did you know that the most common wild bird in the world isn’t the sparrow or blue jay—it’s the red-billed quelea, which live in Africa and have an estimated population of 1.5 billion.

U - UNIVERSE ( A METAPHOR)

“In all the world, there is no heart for me like yours. In all the world, there is no love for you like mine.”

- Maya Angelou.

V - VERY ( THOUGHTS ABOUT EACH OTHER)

"I'm so thankful I met you."

W - WHY ( REASONS WHY THEY LOVE YOU)

sanemi loves you because you're the light that guides him from out the darkness. a reminder to make it out alive should a demon war ever occur. he wants to grow old with you and live a life where demons no longer exists.

X - XYLOPHONE (WHAT’S THEIR SONG?)

I love you so - the walters

I know this is a song about cheating but I blame a sanekana edit for making me associate things song with sanemi

Y - YOU (WHAT YOU ARE TO THEM)

you are his friend. his lover. his spouse. and his family.

Z - ZEBRA ( WHAT PET THEY WANT TO HAVE)

please sanemi with a samoyed would be the cutest thing ever :(

he'd get confused whenever you laugh at him and your pet puppy but you can't tell him that both your husband and the puppy ended up having the same mannerism. even as sanemi is playfully glaring at you with his held tilted, your samoyed is doing the same thing behind the former hashira.

#when I tell you I'm /obsessed/ with this man I mean it #sanemi x reader #sanemi x you #sanemi x y/n #sanemi headcanons #demon slayer imagines #demon slayer headcanons

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blueberrypossum · 3 years

Text

A Date Down Under (GN Reader x Leo)

OH MY GOSH IT’S BEEN FOREVER SINCE I’VE POSTED!!

If you guys are wondering where I’ve been I write more on A03 with two original fanfics in the making! But, my tumblr account deserves some love too! This fanfic has been siting in my file for a long while and I originally wanted to post it when I was deep in the ROTTMNT fandom (still love it and miss it man). So, I decided to take out my oc in it and make it a reader fanfic so everyone can enjoy! @bootyyy-shaker9000 I know how much you love Leo so have some of the wonderful boy in blue!!

When Leo asked you if you wanted to celebrate your Friend Anniversary in the Lost City, you couldn’t refuse.

The feelings for the turtle though were getting tougher and tougher to maintain. Leo was always the flirt, and you tried to not let him play with your heartstrings, but now a blush would creep around your face whenever he would fire a one-liner or when he would push the physical contact to the extreme.

You weren't used to so much affection, nor letting the addiction of being touched take over you like a drug.

But you have seen the way Leo fake flirts with others, and just believed that he was just doing the same thing to you, because you were just friends, right?

You were brushing your comb through your hair when your phone started to vibrate on your desk. You brought it up to your ear as you got comfortable in your seat.

“Hello?”

“Knock knock.”

“Who’s there?”

There were a few knocks on your bedroom window.

“Me.”

You giggled and walked over to the window and pulled back the blinds to see the one and only Leonardo Hamato, a sly grin on his face as he hung up on the phone. You placed your phone into your pocket and unlocked the window to reveal yourself to him.

The blue bandana turtle looked a little taken aback as he took in the sight of his best friend. With the season turning colder, you wore something that suited the chilly wind yet sunny season, the cloth clinging to you gently. What caught him off guard the most was the dazzling smile you presented to him, the pure excitement of seeing him causing his bandana to feel tight around his head.

Leo almost lost his balance as he hopped into your room, sweat growing on him as he tried to find anything else to look at other than you.

“Hey, how's your fever?” He asked, his voice drowned with no confidence, his heart still pounding as he finally glanced over.

You were picking up your bag and you frowned at the question.

“Hum? What fever?”

“Oh, yeah, you just look hot to me,” he replied, pressing a confident smile on his lips as he hoped that you didn’t catch him almost slipping up.

Your cheeks went pink and you playfully slapped his arm.

“Oh hush up and let’s go, we’re burning daylight.”

“That’s not the only thing that’s burning.”

“Oh my gosh, get going, Red Kamon.”

The tall turtle chuckled and pulled out his sword, swiping it around the room until a portal was created. Leo moved to the side and bowed his head towards you.

“After you,” he purred and you rolled your eyes at him and took a step into the portal and was led right at the center of the Hidden City. The colorful and mysterious city was weird to say the least, nothing but weird creations and magic lingered in the air as yokai walked past you. Leo stepped through the portal and was at your side as you both walked over to the city map.

Leo used your shoulder as a rest while you gazed over at the map.

“Where do you want to go, shorty?” He asked as your eyes scanned the different areas and pointed towards the Witch Town.

Your mind seemed clouded from the close contact and you pointed to the spa.

“What about here? Sounds interesting.”

“Can’t do. My idiot and less attractive twin got us turtles banned there,” Leo commented and soon his arm snaked around your neck and was completely over your shoulders, bringing you close enough that you could feel his breath over your cheek.

“What about here?”

“Nope. They banned me there.”

“How did you get banned from a spa?”

“My dashing good looks were just too much for them.”

You let out a gust of air and knew the real reason, Donnie told you the whole funny scenario of Leo needing hair to get into the spa, totally backfired and threw him in jail.

“What places are you not banned from, blue?” You asked, turning over to him with your arms crossed.

He gave you his signature smile and leaned down till you were face to face, his beak just a few inches from your nose.

“Here, just those two places. Your heart? Never.”

“Then what about the Pirate Bazaar?” You mumbled, your heart almost leaping out of your chest as Leo’s eyes widened with excitement.

“Ohhh, I’ve been there! But only for a little bit, let’s go!” He squealed and took your hand and led you through the crowd of animals and other subjects of yokai. His three-fingered hand was cold against your warm one, and you knew Leo and his brothers like closeness to you and April since you were the only warm-blooded creatures; Splinter was too but hugs were hard to get from him. Still, the hand holding made others look over and gush at you two, as if you were a couple.

If only.

He didn’t let go as he took you into lesser crowds, bringing you closer till your arms were touching. You then realized he wasn’t wearing an outfit, but then remembered most of the yokai’s were clothesless as well. His muscles bounced as he walked and you had to do everything to not wrap your fingers around the growing muscle.

STOP STOP STOP THINKING LIKE THIS! HE DOESN’T LIKE YOU LIKE THAT!

His thumb started to brush against yours as he turned to you and you swore you saw a red dash against his cheeks, and it wasn’t his stripes.

“You’ve been friends with me for a whole year! Please, do tell how great it must’ve been to be called my best friend,” he said slyly, wiggling his non-existent eyebrows, causing you to laugh. The joyous melody made Leo weak in the knees.

“You mean, me always having to save your shell from dangerous bad guys, having to endure all your jokes, and then the constant-CONSTANT- marathons of Jipiter Jim and Lou Jitsu to the point all I could do was speak quotes from the movies.”

“Oh yeah, may I remind you that you would text me excited about every movie date? Didn’t someone make their signature hot chocolate just for me when I showed this specific someone their now favorite movie? Ring any bells?” He replied back.

“Pffts, you know what? Your one-liners stink.”

The sword yielding turtle let out a gasp and grasped where his heart would be over his plaston as if he had been shot as he looked down at you.

“My one-liners stink like Raph’s victory stink!”

You laughed and took back his hand and Leo felt his heart flew as your warm hand was gripping onto his cold one. You took the lead and finally made it to the entrance of the pirate grounds. There were booths of stuff that were related to the pirate theme of the area and some were just random selections of things to sell. The smell of seafood and other fried foods drifted into your nose and you led Leo to the entrance.

After getting Lost City Cash at a money machine, you both took a selfie at the front entrance, Leo bringing you close and him having to lean down due to your height.

There was a goblin looking woman in the booth at the entrance and the woman took your money and gave each of you a bracelet to get on rides and such.

“For an extra 20 dollars, you can have a custom pirate outfit that you can switch on and off with ease,” she explained and you and Leo shared the same look, giving the worker a simple nod. She pointed to where single bathrooms were after she got the money.

“Last one there is a rotten turtle egg!”You challenged out as you raced over to the bathroom stalls, the mutant turtle schoffing and charging after you.

With a little bit of magic, you were able to think up your very own pirate outfit with a second band around your wrist so that you could switch it off and on with ease. Leo picked the same outfit he had when he first came to the pirate utopia with Hueso, but didn’t pick an eyepatch this time since he didn’t want to trip in front of you.

You quickly raced out of the changing room after saying thank you to the worker who helped you and looked around, your eyes trying to find the mutant turtle in the crowd. You spotted the long strands of his bandana and felt yourself shudder at how good he looked in a pirate outfit, how the white shirt clung to him and how he had his sword hung against his side instead of over his back. You swallowed the saliva that was swimming in your mouth and quickly dashed over to him, clearing your throat before you spoke in the worst pirate accent.

“My, my, isn’t ye the best booty I’ve ever seen in these vast oceans!”

The red slider turtle quickly turned around but you moved out in front of him.

“Aye, wanna shiver me timbers?” You laughed, throwing another one-liner at him and he turned, his eyes going wide as he almost told you that if you were a pirate, you would be the most beautiful treasure that no man or woman could handle or capture. If you were a pirate he could definitely walk the plank.

“Those jokes are so lame, that they need a peg leg,” he replied, almost hating himself fully for using one of Huesos jokes instead of his own. But you flashed him a smile anyway and motioned him to follow as you made your way through the crowd.

The teenage turtle felt his heart leap after you and gave chase as you made it to the center of the pirate theme park.

Once in the middle, you pulled out the map the woman at the booth gave you and started to read over the activities that you could do.

Leo leaned down close, still a little out of breath, but his confidence had awoken him as he said: “Ya certainly put a shiver in my timber!” he said in a deep pirate accent. You booped his beak away from your face and he blew a raspberry on the index finger.

“So, there is a treasure adventure we can go on, a booth section of stuff to buy, a pirate show of a reenactment of pirate history-Oh! They have timed dances throughout the area! And you can join in!”

“Are you going to join in?”

“Maybe. I could finally dance with someone who doesn’t only do fortnite dances and dabs.”

“Hey, my moves are almost like a work of a pirate ship.”

“Old and needs remodeling?”

“What?! No! Unique and cool.”

You rolled your eyes and wrapped your arm around Leo’s and led him to the show since it was the closest.

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

You stood on the pier as ships and flying creatures dashed by, the glowing lights of the underworld turning into a creamy orange to signify that the day was coming to an end. You leaned your arms over the railing as you scrolled through the photos that had been taken throughout the day. You couldn’t help but smile at seeing your goofy pictures and would scroll past the ones you took specifically of Leo without him knowing.

Speaking of the turtle, he leaned in close to your shoulder as he noticed that your attention was not on him.

“Whatcha lookin at?” He asked, his head slowly getting closer. You felt your body grow warm and quickly turned your phone.

“Bruh,” you giggled and he gave a quiet chuckle and tried to snatch the phone.

“If you’re looking at something, then as your best friend I have a right to see.”

“Fine, hang on.”

You quickly saved the single photos of him into a secret file and moved the phone between them, his head still on your shoulder as he scrolled through the photos, both of you laughing at the one where you fought the pirates and failed.

“What about you? I know you took photos of today for your social,” you commented as you placed your phone into your bag.

Leo took out his phone and hid it out of sight since his home screen was a picture of them together at an abandoned skatepark and he had you in a piggyback ride and he just had to capture the moment. He handed his phone without thinking and started to go through your bag due to boredom.

You scrolled through the photos until you stopped at a specific one. You didn’t remember him telling you to pose for this photo; it was when you had stopped to eat dinner and you happened to watch one of the kids getting a fake pirate hook from a vendor. Your head was supported by your hand as a breeze caused your hair to ripple around your face in an alluring photo. A blush rushes to your face as if you had been hit and soon you started to scroll faster and found more photos of just you; of you waiting in line, in your pirate outfit, several were taken of you during the pirate treasure hunting, when you grabbed a candle from one of the booths in excitement, he even got a cliche photo of you holding his hand while you led him through the crowd.

You felt your heart stop in your ribcage and looked over at the ninja turtle, who was still looking through your bag as if he was hunting for treasure. You didn’t want to snoop, but you couldn’t help but exit out of his camera roll and looked through his folders on the right side; there was a folder for comic books, shopping, epic moments, even a puns list, then found it at the bottom. It was labeled with a first letter of your name and a heart, and with twitching fingers, you opened it. It wasn’t many photos but enough to where you almost dropped his phone into the water below. There were pictures of you whenever you both hung out, and some he probably got from your social.

Holy Hot Soup, he liked you.

“Okay, now you really look like you have a fever,” Leo commented as he reached for his phone, causing you to swallow and quickly turned off the device and handed it back to him.

“But don’t worry, Doctor Neon Leon will help you get all better,” he said in a baby voice and wrapped his arm around you and brought you close.

“Maybe you need some Vitamin ME,” he whispered and you laughed at yet another ridiculous one-liner made by him. He grinned at the sight of you laughing and rested himself against your side, taking in your scent and warmth.

“Maybe I do, where do I get my prescription Aka Kamon?” You asked slyly, a shit eating grin on your face as Leo blushed. Whenever you could, you would fire back a one-liner and was overjoyed to see him be the one to get flustered and a stuttering mess.

“ Oh, um, well,” he stuttered and mentally kicked himself as he couldn’t think of something to say back and then a question he always wanted an answer to.

“Are you ever going to tell me what those words mean?” He asked.

“Are you ever going to open a book and find out for yourself.”

“Ha! Jokes on you, I don’t know how to read. And also, there are phones now, boomers.”

“Then look it up.”

“JuSt GiVe Me A hInT.”

You released a sigh and gave him a look while he returned to you his huge puppy dog eyes look and placed his hands together as his bottom lip wobbled as if he was trying to get out of trouble.

“Finnnne, but only because it’s our best friend’s day.”

You poked the red stripe against his face and then pointed upward, a smirk growing on your face as he gave a confused one.

“WHAT KIND OF HINT IS THAT??”

“A pretty good one in my opinion.”

The red slider turtle let out a large groan as he crossed his arms, his face growing tight as he tried to think of what the hint meant.

“Are you just calling me stripes but in Japanese?” He said with a groan.

“Leo you insult me, it would be kind of stupid to call you stripes in both English and Japanese.”

He mimicked your talking right as you finished and he received an eye roll as he continued on thinking.

So, it wasn’t the stripes, maybe the color? Or the shape?

“Man, this is hurting my brain, this best friend day sucks.” He said as he stuck his tongue out at you.

“Okay, okay. The two words are a color and a shape. Is that better?”

“Yes. Yes it is.”

You continued to watch as Leo tried to put the pieces together and you wished you could get this on video, but it would be too obvious, so instead you painted it into your mind.

“So, the color is totally red, but the shape I’m lost at. Why did you point at the sky? Is that a clue? Why did you make this so difficult?”

“Because I’m a difficult person.”

“I do like a challenge.”

“One more hint, it’s the shape of something in the sky.”

Leo looked up at the fake Lost City sky and squinted as the fake sun started to set and the moon would start to rise.

“Red Moon?”

“Close. It’s Red Crest.”

The blue bandana turtle searched the horizon for an answer for why you called him that as you looked away due to embarrassment.

“Why?” He simply asked as he looked over; he could always tell when you were nervous, your eyes would always dart around and your left foot would start to shake. You rose to a tallen stance though and looked over at his hands.

“I just find your marks...alluring. In Japanese culture, the red moon is respected due to its power. I just thought you deserved to have a nickname that represented you.”

Leo felt his face go completely red that it could put Raph’s mask to so much shame that it would go bland. All this time he thought you were just calling him something insulting in Japanese, but it was a nickname that you made up for him. Not like Raph’s, Donnie’s, Mikey’s or April’s, it was one you made up for him and only him.

“Stop looking at me before I throw you off this dock so I can live the rest of my life without this embarrassment,” you laughed nervously as your fingers combed through your hair and let out a shaky breath.

Leo started to get his little shakes as he let out a confused laugh.

“All this time I thought you were calling me a stupid turtle or somethin in Japanese, whoa oh boy was I wrong.”

You both looked away from each other and the atmosphere became heavy.

Maybe I shouldn’t have said that, I still don’t know, you thought, but then you felt his finger poke your elbow and looked over at him, and the soft expression on his face almost made you melt.

“But how can I stop looking at you?”

Your breathing immediately hitched.

“Are you blushing? It’s a good feeling to know that I do it.”

You could only cover your face as you leaned against the railing on your elbows and looked between your fingers at him. You hated being so flustered up, but with Leo dripping with confidence, it made you want to curl into a muttering mess.

Leo watched you with amusement and went to touch you, but then fell back. He remembered how he started the physical touch between you two, holding your hand, always leaning on you, every movie night you would be his cushion. But you two couldn’t kiss, couldn’t cudde too close, he couldn’t tell you he loved you more than just a best friend.

He hated how the day went by so fast and now he wanted to do what he has wanted to do for months. But he couldn’t work up the courage, he had a ton of one-liners to ask you out, to ask if you returned the feelings, even though he was mutant turtle that lived in the sewer and fought enemies that could destroy the whole world and wholly Ōdachi he can’t ask you to be a part of that life.

But, the way you would smile at him and how you always gave him credit for the growth into someone you wanted to be. How you saw something in him that he didn’t even see, and he wanted to keep being whatever you saw.

He just wanted you.

So, he worked up the courage, tried to make the sweat stop rolling down his body, and looked at person he had fallen for

“Y/N.”

You tensed up, you had never heard Leo sound so serious in his life.

“Yeah?”

“With this being.....I mean if I’m wrong. Would you consider this a date-date?” He spilled out, and he wanted to climb into his shell like Mikey and never come out. He let out a gust of air and didn’t look over at you, his fingers messing within each other. It was silent between you, the city life buzzing around them as yokai’s came and went. You wanted to scream out in joy and say yes a hundred times, but you also had to be careful, along with if Leo was being a bubbly mess, you wanted to take advantage of it as long as you could.

Spotting a red and blue flower with a bright yellow center growing on the side of the deck, you wrapped your fingers around it and pulled it from its roots. To Leo’s surprise, you pushed your way under his arm until it was back over your shoulders. The blush on his face was noticeable and with being against his chest you noticed his uneven breaths.

“I do. And I would like more of them, if you want to.” You answered and handed him the flower. He shakenly took the flower in his hand and his confidence came crashing back to him, knowing that the feeling was mutual. As quickly as you gave him the flower he leaned over and placed the flower over your ear. Your eyes widened with surprise and quickly averted them away, a nervous but sweet chuckle escaping your lips. But the Red-eared slider never averted his gaze away from you.

“I would like that too,” he answered back.

You both stood there for a while, your head curled into Leo’s chest as his own head rested on yours. You were used to being close, but this was different, this filled you up with knowing and it made the physical connection much more warmer and scarier. Little lights started to flicker around as the city started to get dark, even with no sun or moon. Leo brought you closer and buried his face into your hair, a long sigh escaping his lips in content, his mind slowing down for once and just taking in this moment.

But the moment went quicker than expected as a low yawn escaped your mouth and the red slider turtle remembered that it was getting late.

“Alright, sleepy head, I think it’s time to raise anchor and set sail for home,” he joked as he lifted himself off of you and then held out his hand. With a roll of your eyes, you gladly took it and let him lead you back to the entrance of the Pirate Bazaar. He could just use his sword, but he wanted to juice out every moment with you.

The hand hold was different in some way, you gripped his hand tighter and when he came to a stop you would use your other hand to lightly touch his biccup before continuing on.

You gave the booth teller their costume bracelets back and walked a few feet ahead before Leo pulled out his sword and created a portal.

He once again bowed his head as he moved to the side.

“After you.”

Through tired eyes she gave him a smirk as she was halfway through the portal.

“Thank you.”

He followed you through the portal and took the step onto your apartment’s fire escape, the flashing lights of New York City spilling over your side as you opened your bedroom window; throwing your bag inside before turning to Leo. You both turned to each other and then quickly averted eye-contact with each other.

“I had a lot of fun today, Leo. Thanks for being a good fri-” you stopped yourself since you didn’t know if you two were still just friends, or more.

He let out a laugh and rubbed the back of his neck.

“Yeah, chief, it was,” Leo said and then let out a groan at the terrible execution.

You knew that you had to make the first move now or else you both would accidentally place yourselves into the “friend zone”.

“Leo, can you bend down a little bit?”

“Why? Tired of being the only short one?”

“You can say that.”

He bent down till he was on your level, a smug smile on his lips. You let out your form of a chuckle as you curved your fingers under his chin. The teenage turtle instantly felt weak in the knees and thought that his legs would give out from under him and became a stuttering mess as you both made eye-contact.

“Um, haha, is it hot or did you know that, uhh,” he mumbled as you tilted his head to the side and placed a small kiss against his red stripe, instantly making his whole body, for once in his life, burning.

Your lips were soft against his skin and he stood there as you leaned away and climbed back into your room.

“Goodnight, Leo,”you mumbled, your hands shaking against the window.

“N-night.”

You closed the window and walked away while Leo stood there, his mind racing a hundred miles an hour. He got a kiss from you, from you. He never felt so much adrenaline rush through his body and all he wanted to do was go back in time so he could’ve moved his lips over.

He took a step towards the window and then took that step back. What should he do? What could he do? Were you both dating now? Or were you two at the very edge of the line of a relationship?

He wanted to call his brothers or April for advice, especially since she would slap some sense into him. His shakes were coming back.

He let out a grunt and rubbed his eyes as he tried to decide what to do. He looked back at the window and saw that you had turned on your lights. He walked up to the window and knocked.

You had just gotten out of the bathroom when you heard the light tap against your window and your heart started to race faster than it already was. You were already shaken up by having enough courage to kiss him but if that was him then what if he didn’t want the kiss?

The knock came again and you took a few deep breaths before you moved the curtain aside and there he was, his face all flustered up as he gave a small wave as she opened the window.

“Yes?” You questioned as you leaned your hands over the window seal. You hoped that the silky night of the sky hid your flustered face.

“I honestly didn’t think this far ahead,” he spilled out as he let out a nervous laugh as he leaned against the window.

You looked up at him and Leo blinked several times in wonderment at the startled expression that crossed your face. Leo took a deep breath and gave you his signature shit-eating grin.

“Knock knock.”

“Wow, you’re doing jokes in the same place now are ya?”

“Just do the joke.”

You giggled and fluttered your eyes mockingly at him.

“Can I who?”

“Who’s there?

“Can I?”

“Can I...Can I kiss you?”

Even though it was a terrible joke, you felt like you could throw up all of your guts for how fast your heart rate was. Kissing him on the cheek was a challenge but at least you didn’t have to worry about his lips against yours. Do turtles have lips? Or beaks?

The word yes slipped out before you had a second thought.

Before you knew it, Leo’s hands were slipping into your own, the tip of your fingers shaking but Leo reinsured you with a stroke of his thumb You looked up at him and was taken aback at how handsome he was, how his stripes glowed in the moonlight and his blue bandana flew behind him as he leaned down.

Oh you were glad he didn’t have his lips puckered or drool hanging out of his mouth like in the cartoons.

Swallowing any other signs of panic that were trying to build in your body as you leaned in.

The city of New York continued on around you both as the kiss ended; it was soft and sweet, not a full one, but it left both of you speechless. You felt as if your stomach was falling apart and Leo thought he could slip off the stairway. He was still holding your hands before you both departed, but with your free hands, you grabbed his face and brought him in once again. The red slider turtle’s eyes went wide as moons as this kiss much more, more than he could ever dream of.

He wrapped his arms around your waist and slightly lifted you up, burying his face into yours under the moonlight. He tangled himself around you as your hands wrapped around his neck and Leo felt his stomach flip at the actions. Your shirt was warm against his chest and he tried to focus in on that instead of the worry of messing this up. He leaned more down as his hand slipped into the back of your neck. Due to the lack of experience, the kiss was sloppy and messy and anxiety swam between the connection between the two of you.

But it was a tender memory of a kiss between the two of you, to remember as your first.

You both finally separated, your chest heaving as you tried to get your feelings under control. His arms were still wrapped around you and your hands had slipped down onto his plaston, the hard material rising and falling under your fingers. Leo felt himself lean back, the shock setting in that he just had his first kiss and it was that deep and romantic and that….

The teen turtle felt his shell bump against the railing and you quickly latched onto him to stop him from falling, a horse laugh coming out of your mouth.

“Guess you can say that you’re falling for me?” You asked, Leo knew now that he had to have a fever for how hot his face felt. He let out a few breathless laughs as he tried to calm himself down, longing and fear still lingering in his heart.

All he could do was pull you into a hug and whisper out, “I just want to stay here and kiss and hold you and Y/N I can't feel my heart.”

He buried himself into your neck as he once again slightly picked you up, hoping that your warm body would calm him down, but the organ in his chest raced on as you hugged him back, your arms barely going around his shell.

“Leo, will you be my boyfriend?”

My boyfriend. My boyfriend. My boyfriend. My boyfriend.

The words rang in his head like chimes as he slightly pulled away to look at her, the harsh blush on her face giving him an ego boost as he grinned at her.

“Being called a boyfriend, eh? Neon Leon already has so many cool names, but boyfriend is probably the best name to be called, especially if it’s only you saying it.”

“Probably? I guess I should just give the boyfriend title to someone else, then.”

“What?! No, no, no. I already called it, I’m your boyfriend capiche? Now come here.” He pulled you into a tight hug and gave you a little spin, a laugh escaping your throat as you held on.

“Leo! We can fall, and my back cannot handle cement like yours!”

#ROTTMNT #rottmnt x reader #rottmnt x leo #rottmnt leo #ROTTMNTXREADER #rottmntleo #rottmnt reader x leo #rottmnt leo x reader #tmnt #rise of the tmnt #Rise of the teenage mutant ninja turtles

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pennylanefics · 3 years

Text

Space Heater - Theo Raeken

a/n: this was supposed to be a small fic about playing with theo’s hair, but it turned into more.

*gif is not mine, credits go to the owner*

•••

“God, it feels so good to shower,” Theo sighs as he walks into your room. You smile and admire his exhausted figure. You found out he was practically homeless after being brought back from the ground, so you invited him to stay with you.

The two of you had never been really close, but you were the one to convince the pack to bring him back, hearing his cries of pain and cries for help. As much as you didn’t think he was a good guy, you could tell he regretted what he did. And the fact that he didn’t ask any of the pack if he could stay with them proved he was back to help and not take advantage.

“Yeah, you look a lot more comfortable.” He chuckles and runs a hand through his hair.

“My hair was getting so greasy and gross, it feels so much better. And I don’t have to rely on cologne anymore.”

“Yeah, I think everyone is thankful for that,” you giggle. Theo smiles and stands in your room awkwardly.

“Oh, uh, I came in to ask if you have an extra pillow? I would use mine but it’s kind of flat.” You nod and stand up, walking with him to the hall closet to give him one.

“If you need anything else, just let me know,” you tell him.

Before you can walk into your room, he grabs your hand gently and gives you a thankful smile.

“I really appreciate you letting me stay here. I know bringing me into your home probably isn’t what you wanted, but I am really grateful you were willing to.” His voice is soft and serious, and in that moment, all of your thoughts and assumptions about him went out the window.

“Of course, Theo. you’re still human, er, well…” you both share a laugh at your slight misstep, but he understands.

“You deserve a roof over your head, a shower, a warm bed, and food. I wasn’t going to keep you from that if I have the room for you.” He starts to respond, but opts to remain quiet.

Instead, he just silently backs into his room and shuts the door. You do the same, hopping into bed after a long day and falling asleep quickly.

Around 2:15 in the morning, you were awoken by wind against the house, then the incoming rain, thunder, and lightning followed. Seeing as you couldn’t get back to sleep after ten minutes, you head downstairs to get a glass of water.

As you were walking through the kitchen threshold, you bump into Theo.

“Oh, sorry,” you gasp, knocking into his chest. He grins and shakes his head.

“Are you alright?” You wonder. He glances down at his water.

“Uh, just came down to get a drink.” You could tell he was lying, and in this moment, you wished you could hear heartbeats. His slightly shaky hands and ragged breathing gave everything away.

“Hang on a moment. Let me get some water for myself and then let’s head upstairs.” He nods and stands there, watching you move around the kitchen swiftly. When your glass is full, you motion for him to follow you upstairs.

He is about to go back into his room, but you catch his wrist and nod your head in the direction of yours. You turn the light on just to make it a little warmer and brighter to contrast the storm outside.

“Come here,” you whisper, crawling into bed. Theo hesitates for a moment, but when a particularly loud gust of wind shakes the house, he is quick to join you, but still keeping his space.

“Did the storm wake you up?” You ask.

“Yeah. Usually I'm not phased by them, but when I was underground, they...they w-were, uh…”

“Hey, it’s okay. You don’t have to continue.” He inhales and exhales deeply.

“What's your favorite letter in the word monday?” You randomly ask. Theo is slightly taken aback by the odd question. He laughs a little, feeling the anxiety fade away a little.

“My favorite letter in the word monday?”

“Yeah. Like my favorite is the ‘y’ because it ends the word and just gives it a nice little ring.” He is silent for a moment, thinking over it probably too much.

“I’d say the ‘o’. It’s not the first, but it is an important letter.” He pauses. “What’s with the weird ass question?”

“I just figured you needed something to take your mind off of things. So why not throw an incredibly random and nonsense question at you.”

“Well thank you. It definitely helped and I thought too much about that question. And now I’m going to be thinking about what my favorite letter in every word is.” You giggle and rest your hand on his bicep.

You both were laying on your sides, facing one another. He stares right at you, his mind racing.

“You know, you’re the last person I expected to help me come back,” he whispers. “I always thought you hated me.”

“I did,” you admit. “But hearing your painful screams and cries for help, I could tell you changed. I had a feeling that you’ve changed as a person.”

“I have. And I can’t thank you enough for convincing everyone to bring me back.” Suddenly, a loud boom of thunder roars in the sky after a bright flash of lightning. The lights in your room flicker then turn off completely.

“Was that the power?” He wonders, sitting up.

“Yeah, I think so,” you sigh. Theo falls onto his back, staring up at the ceiling.

“You know, I’ve always thought you were cute,” he murmurs after a few minutes. “But Stiles warned me to not get close to you.”

You giggle and gaze up at him, admiring his features that were illuminated by the streetlight shining through your window.

“Yeah, he told me the same thing. If I were to ever get close to you, he would disown me as a friend. When I told him that I thought you were cute as well, he flipped.”

“Has he always been so protective of you?”

“Yeah, since we all got involved with the supernatural world. He said he didn’t want to see me go through what Scott went through, that he can’t lose another friend.”

“I never wanted to see you hurt either. You were the only person I truly cared for since we met. And I know you hated me, and I understand that. But now, I want you to know that I’ve always had feelings for you.” A smile slowly appears on your lips and you scoot closer to him.

Theo follows you and goes back to laying on his side, but he cuddles extremely close to you, his face falling into your neck. You are confused and a little bit surprised at his sudden action. To make things more comfortable, you turn into your back and Theo cuddles up beside you.

“You’re like a space heater,” you whisper, throwing the cover around your bodies to trap the heat in. Since the power went out, it was starting to get chillier in the room, so having him close to you was great.

“One good thing about being a chimera. Unlimited body heat.”

He peppers gentle kisses to your skin, making your face heat up at the feel of it. Absentmindedly, your hand behind his back comes up to play with his long hair. You thread your fingers through it, the silky strands falling between your digits.

“Damn, your hair really is soft,” you tell him. He chuckles and lifts his head to kiss your cheek.

“It’s a good thing I washed it then because it was not so soft before.” You giggle and turn on your side again, snuggling into his chest for even more warmth. He takes this hint and wraps his arms around your body.

But since you couldn’t help yourself, you sneak your hand back up to his hair and mess with it lazily. Theo smiles and closes his eyes, content with the current situation.

“Would you like to lay on my chest to play with my hair instead?” He offers. “In a more comfortable position.”

“No, I’m pretty comfortable and much warmer here,” you respond. Theo laughs and shakes his head, readjusting himself just a little to match your position. His arms were still wrapped around your waist, and his face was now buried in your hair.

“So, are you going to be gone in the morning, or are you planning on staying?” You ask him hesitantly. Theo kisses your head a couple times and pulls back a little to look down at you.

“I was hoping I could stay and we could, maybe, get to know each other better? Maybe I could show you that I’m not entirely the worst person.”

“I was hoping you would stay, honestly,” you chuckle. “And no need to show me. It’s the reason I convinced everyone to bring you back.” Theo grins and nods, reaching between you to hold your hands.

“Thank you,” he whispers. “I know I’ve said it a lot, but seriously. It means so much to me.”

“Of course, Theo,” you whisper back, stroking his cheek.

His eyes dart between your eyes and lips, and you take the hint right away. You reach up and kiss him as soft as ever, but he takes it into his own hands to deepen it slightly.

It lasts for a few seconds, longer than you expected, but you didn’t mind. When Theo pulls away, you catch your breath for a moment before kissing him again. You’ve imagined this moment since you first met him, back when he first arrived in Beacon Hills for senior year.

You break the kiss to yawn, exhaustion taking over you.

“Should I go back to my room and let you sleep?” He wonders. You shake your head and before he can get up, you tug his arm to make him stay.

“The power is still out, and I need my space heater,” you shyly say.

“Alright, I guess I can stay,” he jokingly responds. He had no intentions to leave nor did he want to, so he was really hoping you would make him stay. Which you did.

“Is that all you see me as now? A space heater?” He asks. You giggle in response and snuggle into his chest.

“No. You’re a pretty great cuddles as well.”

#theo raeken #theo raeken imagines #theo raeken x reader #theo raeken imagine #cody christian #teen wolf #teen wolf imagines #imagines #fanfiction #fanfic

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hogwartsmarvelmommy · 3 years

Text

The lighthouse that guided me H.H ❤️🔥

~Best friends brother

🌼🌸Masterlist🌼🌸

this is 18+ only!

word count: 9.9k

(HarryHollandXReader)

summery: Sam knew you and his brother would hit it off, so he made you promise to not fall in love with his twin... easier said than done.

Warnings: Swearing, miscarriage, blood, smut. (additional warnings under the cut)

Warnings: unprotected sex, oral (F & M receiving) fingering, some dirty talk (But like not really) protected sex.

A/N: ok... i really only planned for this to be like 2-3k words, but i just couldn't stop... hope you like it :)

It was the insistent pounding that woke you up. The first thought in your head was how you were going to kill him for interrupting a perfectly good dream. With a loud, rather dramatic groan you rolled out of bed and flung open your door. Sam looked like he was stressed beyond belief. Pushing past you, he came into the room plopping down onto your bed and groaning before burying his face in his hands. This was not a sight you were used to, usually your best friend was a happy go lucky guy, but right now he seemed to be anything but.

"Sam, what's wrong?" Suddenly all the anger from being awoken so early left you, seeing him in distress was bad enough. You closed your door and went over to him, crouching down in front of him, hoping the boy would talk to you so you could offer some sort of help.

"There coming," he groaned. Who was he talking about? Who was coming? You were about to ask when he spoke up again, "my brothers want to see where I live and go to school, there on a plane now,"

You felt all that worry dissipate instantly. Did he seriously wake you up at the ass crack of dawn because his brothers wanted to come spend some quality time with him on his free week. Why did he always have to be so dramatic?

With a roll of your eyes you let out a chuckle. "Seriously Sammy? That's what's wrong?"

"Y/n, they're going to judge all of this," you looked around your room, there was nothing out of the ordinary really, just a bed, a dresser and some random nick knacks.

"My room?" You asked, confused.

"No, our apartment," he said. You were a bit taken aback. Yes your apartment was rather small and lacked a lot of decor, but for two broke college kids it was what you could do.

“What is wrong with the apartment?” you asked him, verging on offended. You had put in a lot of effort to make the place your own. From the beer bottle wreath on the pantry door to the pong wall of champions. It wasn't much but it was home, and that's what mattered.

“I need to tell you something,” he sighed slightly looking up to you. “I come from a very well off family, and i am nowhere near broke, i just don't want to flaunt the money i have around,” you weren't sure you'd heard him right, the boy you'd lived with for three years, who you considered your closest and best friend was telling you he was in fact not broke? When there had been times you ate microwave noodles for lack of anything else in the house.

“So you have money?” you asked, your confusion was evident in your tone.

“I'm sorry,” he sighed.

“Why would you lie about that?” You wondered. You were taken aback at your best friend's confession. Confused and a little hurt were just the brink of it. Why did he think he had to lie to you? After all this time?

“It was easier. I didn't want to worry about anyone just befriending me because of money,” He explained. You rolled your eyes, not sure if that was an acceptable explanation, but for now it was what you were getting.

“Well where are your brothers staying?” You asked him.

He sighed in relief at the fact that you weren't completely ripping him a new one. “Can they take your room, and you can crash in mine?” He suggested.

“Absolutely not!” You exclaimed.

“Y/N!” he groaned out.

“You give them your room and you take the futon in the living room,” You told him, smacking his cheek lightly.

“You're the worst,” He groaned. “But I need a favor,” he muttered.

“I swear if you ask me-”

“Can you take me to pick them up at the airport?” He interrupted.

“And he asked it,” You sighed walking out of the room.

“Y/N? Is that a yes?” He called out after you.

“Fine Sam, but you owe me big!” You exclaimed before shutting the bathroom door.

You had met Sam your first day at the University, and instantly the two of you had clicked. You oftentimes would say the two of you were half-soulmates, like half of your soul was Sam’s but the other half you hadn't meant quite yet. You understood Sam, and he understood you, and it was easy. You knew he had brothers, but mostly when he'd get time off school he would fly from Scotland back to London to visit them instead of vice versa.

So despite spending most of the last four years together, you had never met them.

You got yourself showered and put together before going to find Sam, who was a mess. “You look like a train hit you,” You told him as you stood in his doorway.

“Y/N, that's not helpful,” He groaned.

“Well let's go get your brothers,” you announced, grabbing your car keys from the counter.

“Wait,” He exclaimed. You turned to look at him, waiting to hear what he had to say. “I need you to promise me something,” He muttered.

“What?”

“My brother, Harry, my twin. I need you to promise you won't fall in love with him,” He told you. You nearly doubled over laughing, you couldn't imagine falling in love with anyone, much less someone related to the Div you called your best friend.

“Yeah I'm sure that won't be a problem,” You chuckled.

“Y/N, i’m serious, the instant you guys meet you're going to click, and if you think me and you have a lot in common, i can promise you, that Harry and you will have more,” He explained. You realized he was completely serious.

“OK Sammy, i'll do my best to not fall in love with your twin brother,” You nodded at him. He took a deep breath before finally walking towards you.

“Let's do this,” He muttered.

The airport was crowded, much like you had expected, but you still found yourself trudging through the packed areas to the waiting area to wait for Sam's brothers. “When is their plane set to land?” you wondered looking up at the screen that had all the flight information.

“They just landed. Tom texted me to let me know,” He told you as he stood waiting impatiently.

“Why are you so nervous? There only your brothers Sammy,” you tried to get him to calm down.

“Look at that mane!” You heard from a group of people that had just entered the waiting area from the landing pad. You saw the color drain from your best friends face as he turned and saw a curly haired boy coming at him. Sam opened his arms as the boy crashed into him, hugging him tight and muttering things back and forth to each other.

“Did you have to leave me?” A man asked as he walked up to the three of you, glancing at you and flashing you a smile before throwing his own arms around the already hugging pair.

The three of them hugging was cute, and it made you wonder why Sam was so nervous in the first place to have them here, since he looked so happy now.

“Ok, Guys this y/n, my best friend and roommate,” Sam told them, turning the two boys' attention over to you.

"Hi," you mumbled, feeling rather shy suddenly.

"You weren't joking when you sai-" Sam smacked Harry in the back of the head before he could finish what he was saying. "I meant hi," he told you, extending his hand out to you.

You took his hand in yours, noting how attractive his hands were. His grip was tight as he shook your hand, staring into your eyes with the most breathtaking brown orbs you had ever seen. You weren't even aware you could think brown eyes were so beautiful. His curls had fallen to his forehead, giving him a boyish look, but dear God did he pull it off. No wonder Sam had asked you to not fall in love with his brother, just looking at him had your stomach in butterflies. You let go of his hand, looking away hoping your best friend wouldn't pick up on how easily you were taken aback by his brother.

The older boy 'Tom' extended his hand as well shaking yours and saying hello, before the four of you headed down to the baggage claim.

Both boys found their bags quickly and then it was off to your car. "Shotgun," Harry yelled as you unlocked the door.

"What? No!" Sam argued.

"You snooze, you lose Sammy, and it looks like you just lost," you laughed as Harry smirked triumphantly, throwing his bag into the trunk before sliding into the front seat. You knew Sam was nervous to get back to the flat. Worried that maybe his brothers would judge you based on the appearance of your place.

You parked the car and led the boys up to your place, unlocking it and slipping inside.

"Wall of champions huh?" Tom asked as he admired the drunk scribbles of the pong wall.

"Me and Sammy boy are undefeated," you announced proudly pointing to the top where your names were scribbled out.

"No," Harry laughed, shaking his head, "there is no way, Sam is awful, and has never won. Ever!"

"Board doesn't lie, red," you told him, shooting Sam a smile.

"Prove it," Harry said.

You looked at Sam who had a mischievous look plastered on his face, neither of you were ones to back down from a challenge. So you spent the early afternoon drinking and Whooping Sam's brothers asses at beer pong. Easily.

"She carries you," Tom told Sam as he dropped himself onto the futon.

"Does not!" Sam argued with a laugh.

"No she does," Harry confirmed.

"Oh piss off," Sam laughed, shoving his way in-between his brothers on the sad excuse for a couch you had. "We need a new couch," he groaned.

"Let's go shopping for one," Tom said randomly.

"We're drunk," you pointed out.

"We can Uber," Tom laughed. You rolled your eyes but reluctantly agreed.

You stood in your living room in your fuzzy pajama pants and tank top staring at the giant couch that was now taking up a majority of the room and the two sleeping boys on it.

"We actually did that?" Sam groaned, walking out of his room in only boxers. "I've never been so drunk in my life,"

"Day drinking for the win," you told him, holding your fist up for him to bump. The prior night consisted of way too much drinking and then shopping at furniture stores, before going to a pub for more drinking. If you were honest with yourself, you didn't even recall getting the sectional into the apartment.

Your head was pounding and you felt like you had been hit by a bus. So you opted to exclude yourself from any activities Sam had planned for him and his brothers, and instead spend the day catching up on your studies.

You found yourself sprawled out on the new couch with books around you as you worked on your laptop. Regardless of the fact it was a drunk purchase, you had to admit the couch was pretty comfortable.

You didn't realize you had fallen asleep until you were woken up by someone moving beside you. You sat up watching as Harry settled in. He glanced over to you and sighed.

"Sorry I was trying to avoid waking you," he said apologetically.

"S'ok, where's Sam and Tom?" You asked.

"Club," he chuckled. You rolled your eyes, before grabbing the books from next to you and setting them onto the table.

"You didn't want to go?" You asked.

"Not in the mood," he said, smiling at you. You felt a tad guilty about being happy Harry had chosen to not go, opting instead to hang out with you. Sam had been right, you and Harry had A LOT in common, so talking and joking with him came almost naturally. He radiated positivity, it was like if he was a color, it was yellow 100%

After a couple hours of talking about everything you could think of, the room fell silent. "Let's go on an adventure," Harry suggested.

"An adventure?" You wondered.

"Why not?" He laughed.

"I'm not very adventurous," you admitted coyly.

"That's ok, we'll figure something out. Let's just drive until inspiration strikes,"he said, standing up and extending his hand for you to take.

Your decision to say yes was probably where everything went wrong, but looking back.. you would do everything the same if you were given a second chance.

You parked your car on the side of the lake. Looking over at Harry with a skeptical look. "You gonna back out?" He asked.

"Harry, it's only like 68° out here," you reminded him. He nodded with a smile before opening the door and getting out of the car. Somehow both of the Holland twins had a way of convincing you to do crazy things.

You got out, feeling the chill of the air make goosebumps raise on your skin. "Harry, I'm not sure about this," you admitted walking towards where he was now standing on the dock.

"Me either, but it's not an adventure without a little hesitation," he told you.

"Who told you that?" You asked, laughing. He thought about it for a minute and shrugged.

"Ok, let's do it," he told you, giving you a nod. You sighed nodding back before slowly peeling your pants down your legs and then your shirt over your head. You took a deep breath before removing your underwear and then unclipping your bra.

You stood completely naked staring out at the ice cold water, not daring to look at the boy beside you, no matter how badly you wanted to. You felt his fingers interlace with yours. “Ready?” He asked.

“Nope. let's do it,” You told him, squeezing his hand. You followed his movements. As soon as his body lunged forward, yours followed, hitting the icy water almost instantly. It felt as if there were pins and needles poking you on every inch of your body, and when you finally came back up to the surface, you gasped trying to catch your breath, your body tensed up from the shock of the temperature.

"Adventures. Are. Dumb." You shuttered. You could see Harry's teeth catering together.

"That. That was stupid," he admitted swimming back to the dock and pulling himself out. He reached out his hand, grabbing yours and hoisting you back onto the dock.

"Remind me to never go on an adventure with you again," you laughed, before realizing something. "We don't have towels,"

Harry's eyes widened, "no we don't," you stood on the dock, completely naked trying to shield your body.

"I have a blanket in my hatch. We can turn on the heater and sit under it until we're dry," you offered.

"That sounds good," he told you before grabbing the clothes from the ground. You rushed to your car, opening the trunk and jumping in. Luckily you had left the keys in the ignition, so all it took was you leaning over the seat to crank on the car. Forgetting about your completely exposed state. Harry pulled the hatch closed as he crawled into the car, tossing the clothes into the back seat and unfolding the blanket. You plopped down beside him, pulling the corner to cover yourself, hoping the heater would warm the two of you up fast.

After a few (awkward) moments, Harry finally spoke up. "You have a nice body," he said quietly. You felt your cheeks heat up at his words.

"Harry, were you looking at my naked body?" You joked, knowing it would have been impossible for him to have not seen you.

"I mean, when I came to crawl in you were bent over the back seat. Like on full display. Would have been hard to not look," he laughed, turning away to hide the blush that was gracing his ears and cheeks. "This trunk is roomy," he said, trying to change the subject.

"Me and Sam had to sleep in here once, hence the blanket," you told him.

"So you two?" Harry wondered.

"No, never. He's like my half-soulmate, like in a friendly way, you know?" You asked.

"Well he's my womb mate so kind of," he admitted. You couldn't help but laugh. "You know, we will probably warm up faster, if we're closer," Harry said shyly. His logic was right, but you were worried about your self control.

"Yeah, ok," you mumbled, scooting closer, until your leg was touching his.

"Can I put my arm around you?" He asked. You nodded quickly. You let out a sigh of relief at his warmth,as you let yourself snuggle into his body, being cautious not to place your hands anywhere questionable.

It was nice. It was strangely intimate as well. "Sam told us you were beautiful, but I can't believe how breathtaking you are," Harry said quietly after a few minutes. You glanced up to his face, his eyes were closed, and it seemed like he was trying to focus on his breathing.

"Are you just saying that because you have seen me naked?" You asked. He laughed, before opening his eyes and looking at you.

His eyes met yours, and it was like you were each seeing something you had been looking for for way too long. You saw his eyes shift down to your lips.

"No, Y/N, you are just breathtaking, clothes and all," he told you, brushing stray hairs from your face.

Your next movements were slow. You glanced down to his lips, and back to his eyes before slowly leaning in, giving him plenty of time to curve your movements, but he didn't. Instead he followed them.

"We shouldn't," you whispered, faces so close you could feel his breath on your lips.

"I know," he told you. You bit your bottom lip, before looking into his eyes. There was something about Harry, something that was throwing all your inhibitions out the window. All you could think about was how his lips would feel on yours. His hand reached up, rubbing his thumb across your face, you closed your eyes and leaned in, closing the distance between your lips.

The second your lips met you felt something ignite in you. He kissed you slowly, not rushing into anything. His lips were soft and warm, and made you melt into him. Turning your body more, your naked chest pressed against his as your fingers laced themselves in the curls on the base of his neck.

As he rested his hand on your waist, squeezing lightly, as he deepened the kiss.

His tongue swiped across your lower lip, looking for access, which you quickly granted. You leaned back as his lips found themselves trailing your jaw and to your neck.

"Sam will kill us," you let out, as you threw your head back giving him more access to your neck.

"Let him," he mumbled into your neck, before continuing his task. You knew you should stop him. This was the first step, in the wrong direction. Harry was someone you could easily fall in love with, and if you stopped now, you could pretend this naked, heated, makeout session had never happened. But then his hand slid down from your waist to your thigh, as he pushed you farther back onto your back.

You pulled his face back to yours, reconnecting your lips with his in a hungry kiss.

You continued the heated kissing for a while, letting yourself lose control, something that did not come easily for you.

"Harry," you moaned into his lips, making him lift his head.

"Tell me what you want darling," he told you, face red from kissing you. You pushed him up and over so he was sitting again.

"Do you want me?" You asked. He nodded quickly, grabbing your waist to pull you over to him. You threw one of your legs over his, and let him get himself situated, grabbing his hard member and lining it up to your entrance. You let yourself sink down slowly onto him, enjoying the initial feeling of him filling you up.

"Christ, y/n, you're so tight," he groaned, as he bottomed out on top of him. you leaned forward resting your head on his shoulder, getting used to the stretch he was giving you, before you started to move slowly. He kept his hands on your hips, helping you with your moviments, but never forcing them, letting you choose the speed of your thrusts.

Harry peppered your neck with kisses as you held onto him, letting little moans and whines escape your mouth as you rode him slowly.

He whispered sweet nothings to you, making you lose it, hearing you were 'perfect' and 'so beautiful,'

"M'So close," you moaned out, as your movements became more rigid.

"I've got you darling," Harry whispered as he took over, and began thrusting up into you, he let his hand slip between your body's, finding your bundle and rubbing it as he thrust into you. "Oh god," you groaned, throwing your head back.

"Let go for me darling," he said as he pressed open mouth kisses to your neck.

As soon as you felt him twitch inside of you, you felt the band in your stomach snap. You felt yourself convulsing around him as his thrusts became sloppy and slowed, having hit his peak with you.

You let your forehead rest against his, both of your breathing heavy. "Wow," you whispered.

"I think I like adventures with you," he chuckled, making you roll your eyes before kissing him again.

Your eyes opened to the light streaming through the window. At first you were confused at the amount of windows surrounding you, and then it hit you.

"Oh god," you groaned, sitting up.

"What?" Harry gasped, sitting straight up.

"We fell asleep," you told him as you rustled around you to find your clothes. "I don't know where my clothes are," you groaned. Harry placed a hand on your check, turning your face to him.

"Back seat darling," he told you, before leaning in and kissing you. He pulled away sooner than you would have liked and reached over the seat grabbing the clothes from last night.

You both dressed quickly, moving to the front of the car. The drive home wasn't a long one, and you were relieved when you arrived home to find that neither Sam or Tom were there.

"So," Harry said as you poured both of you a glass of water.

"What?" You giggled sliding it over to him.

"Last night was incredible for me, and I don't do the sleeping with random people thing," he told you.

"And you think I do?" You asked him.

"What? No!" He told you, nearly spitting out his water. You couldn't help but laugh. "I just mean, that I'd like to do it again, maybe take you out as well, get to know you more," he told you, reaching for your hand. You laced your fingers with his, blushing as a smile spread across your face.

"I'd like that," you whispered. Harry went to move around the counter, but as soon as he got off the stool the front door swung open and a very hungover Sam and an amused Tom came in. Pushing whatever moment you were having to the back burner.

"You let him get pissed?" You asked Tom as you rushed over to your best friend who looked like death.

"To be fair, I tried to stop him multiple times, but he kept telling me 'I'm in college I can handle my booze'" Tom laughed.

"Sammy," you groaned as you pushed him onto the couch.

"Sorry mom," he mumbled as his eyes fluttered shut.

You rolled your eyes at how dumb he could be.

"What did you guys do last night?" Tom asked, walking over to where Harry was in the kitchen.

"Went on a late night adventure," Harry told him, avoiding eye contact.

"Oh yeah? What did you do?" Tom repeated.

"Nothing really," Harry mumbled, trying to avoid Tom. But Tom knew Harry better than anyone.

"Harry?" Tom asked, making the boy look at him.

Tom gasped, looking from Harry over to you and then back. "Tell me you didn't Baz," Tom groaned.

"Didn't want?" You asked, confused.

"You two had sex," tom whisper yelled.

Your eyes grew wide and you could feel your cheeks heating up, "how would you gather that by just looking at him?" You demanded.

"Sex glow," Tom explained.

You snorted before rolling your eyes. "Oh whatever," you told him, not buying it.

"So you didn't then?" Tom asked, looking directly at Harry, who's cheeks immediately reddened. "Jesus you two, Sam is going to be livid," he informed you.

"We're not going to tell him," Harry said quickly, to which you agreed just as quickly.

Tom shook his head, "was it just the one shag? Or are there feelings?" Tom asked. You looked at Harry and bit your lip. He nodded before speaking back up. "Just the one shag, no feelings at all, " he lied.

You sat in the driver's seat of your car, waiting. Memories flooding your mind of that night weeks prior. You glanced down at your phone, checking the time again. You were being impatient, but to be fair you had been waiting for this for a long time, too long. Having had to accept secret calls and texts as enough for the time being. But now it was time, you somehow managed to clear up a weekend, and he happened to be free, and now you were going to sneak away, and not be a secret for just a few days, not have to hide behind a screen, or be a distant voice.

Your phone began to buzz in your lap and you looked down to see the contact name you had changed a few weeks ago “My baz <3”

“You here?” you asked, bringing it up to your ear.

“Just landed. Am I getting my bag and heading out to you?” he wondered.

“Yup. and then we will have two whole days uninterrupted, just us, in a virbo, naked, and sweaty and-” you were cut off by his laughing.

“Someone is clearly eager,” he told you.

“Fuck, i messed you sweetheart” he told you.

“Yes i am, the phone sex and sexting isn't doing it for me, I've literally had the real thing baby. Now I want it again, so hurry up so we can get out of town,” you groaned, as there was a knock on your window. You jumped, and turned to see him standing at your door, red curls crazy from a cat nap he had surly taken on the flight over, and a smile so big you could drown in it. You jumped from the car throwing yourself into his already full arms, making him drop his duffel bag, but he didn't seem to mind. He wrapped his arms around your waist lifting you up in his hug, and burying his face in your neck.

You could have sworn your heart skipped a beat.

"Let's go," you urged him, impatient for what you knew was to come later. You began the hour-long drive to the weekend rental you had gotten for the two of you. Making sure you would be alone, and able to not be bothered by anything. Or so you thought.

"Sam's calling you," Harry said as you turned another corner.

"What, why? He thinks I'm with my dad for the weekend," you told Harry. Looking down at your phone. Harry shrugged.

You answered the phone hoping it was nothing.

"Hello?"

"Hey, I uh, have a problem," Sam sounded worried.

"What?" You asked.

"I wanted to make sure it was okay that I invited Harry to stay with us for the two weeks we have off of school next month, because I already invited him.. and I totally forgot to ask," he muttered. You felt a smile grow on your lips.

"I don't know Sam, I'm not sure me and Harry got on well," you joked, peaking Harry's interest.

"Really?" Sam asked.

"Yeah, I just thought he was annoying and I'm pretty sure he didn't like me at all," you told him. Harry started to shake his head and roll his eyes. "I am fine with it Sammy,"

"You sure?" Sam wondered. "Cause I wouldn't want to make you uncomfortable by any means,"

"Positive," you confirmed

"How's spending time with your dad?" He asked you.

"Good, hey look we just got somewhere so I gotta go, call you back later. Love you, bye," you hung up the phone before he could continue any conversation, knowing he would keep you on the phone for an hour if you let him.

"You love him?" Harry asked.

"What?"

"You love Sam?" He repeated.

"Course I do," you smiled at him.

"He's lucky to have you, you're a good friend," he told you. Your brows furrowed as you looked over to him.

"Is that what we are? Friends?" You asked. You parked the car in front of the house and turned to look at Harry.

"Do you want to be more?" He Wondered.

"I mean, the way I feel about you, I don't feel about any of my other friends," you whispered.

"And how do you feel?" He asked.

"Well, when I see that you're calling or texting me I get this feeling in my stomach, it's like an insistent fluttering, that never goes away, as long as I'm talking to you, gets me all flustered and nervous. And when you told me you were going to be able to come this weekend, I was so excited, because it meant I could spend even a second with you alone." You smiled at him before biting your lip, "I really like you,"

"I like you too y/n, more than I think I've ever liked anyone," he told you, reaching his hand out to caress your cheek. "And because of that I've had something on my mind,"

"Oh yeah? You asked

"Yeah, I mean I know it won't make much of a difference since we'll still have to keep it a secret, but I'd really like it if you were my girlfriend," he told you, his cheeks flushed red as he watched you closely for a reaction.

You leaned in close, nearly touching his lips with your own, "I would love to be your girlfriend," you whispered before closing the space between you in a kiss.

Everything with Harry was easy, even though the situation was strange, and the secrets and lying were hard, everything felt natural. Every Time you talked to him it felt like home, and you knew you were in over your head. If you had hoped to not fall in love with him, you absolutely would have been let down by yourself. You knew you were going to hell for lying to Sam, but you couldn't change the way you felt, and although you wished you weren't hurting him, you didn't regret anything you had going on with his twin brother.

You entered the little rental house, surprised at how cute and quaint the decor was. It had a very boho chic feel to it, there was a four poster bed in the middle of the room with sheer curtains streaming down. There was a little sectional in the corner with a television in front of it, and a little kitchenette to the right of the room. The owners had left a fresh vase of roses on the little table along with a basket that had chocolates and a few other things inside.

“This is romantic,” Harry said, as he looked around the room.

“The pictures were cute, and it had good reviews, i didn't expect this though,” you admitted.

Harry walked over to the bed, pushing the drape to the side and looking towards you. “Come test it out with me?” He asked. You rolled your eyes at him, but went over, slipping off your shoes and climbing onto the bed (Which felt like a cloud)

“It's nice,” you hummed as you let your body sink into the mattress.

“Be nicer, if i wasn't so constricted by these clothes,” he told you, making you look over to see his smirking face.

“Oh yeah?” you asked, turning to face him.

“Oh yeah,” he repeated, raising his eyebrows at you. He adjusted himself to his side so he was facing you now.

“What are you thinking about?” you whispered.

“That night,” he muttered, “The way you looked, riding me, falling apart on my cock. How tight your pussy was and the way it clenched around me while I whispered sweet nothings in your ear,” your eyes widened in shock at the filth of his words.

“Harry,” you giggled.

“Come on, you know you have been thinking of it. I know I can't get the sound of your moans out of my head, the small whimpers you were letting out with every stroke of my cock on your g spot,” you felt your walls clench around nothing at his words. He knew what he was doing, and he was doing it well. “I just wish we had had more time that night, I could have had you whimpering if I had been given the chance. I would have filled you up good with my fingers, and eaten you like you were my last meal,” he whispered.

You closed your eyes, trying to keep from letting off how unbelievably aroused you were. You had rushed straight to the point the last time you and Harry had been left alone, but now.. There was no rush, no time crunch, you had all night, and all weekend to give into your sexual desires. Lord knows you have already given into your emotional ones.

“Show me,” you challenged, stealing a glance at the way his mouth widened with your words. He pushed himself up onto his knees in between your legs, grabbing your ankles and pulling you down the bed and closer to him. “Harry,” you giggled.

He ran his hands up your clothed legs, and up your body, until he was leaning over you, his face close enough that you could smell his shampoo and feel his breath fanning across your lips. “Want to make you feel good,” he whispered.

“Do it then,” you groaned, arching your back up and into a kiss. His hands found your waist, sliding them under your shirt as he kissed you like his life depended on it. He slowly pushed your shirt up until it was pooled above your breasts and he then pulled the fabric of your bra down, taking your already pebbled nipple between his fingers and rolling it, which made a slight moan escape from your mouth.

“Can I take these off?” he asked. You nodded quickly, sitting slightly up so he could remove the shirt. He reached behind you to unclasp your bra, but not without a little struggle. When he finally managed to get it undone, he slid the straps down your arms tossing it to the side, before dipping his head down, and taking one of your nipples in his mouth. You let out a loud gasp at the sensation, as your hands instinctively found themselves tangled in his auburn curls. He made sure to do the same to the other breast before trailing open mouth kisses down your stomach and stopping at your waistband of your leggings. Glancing up to you for permission, which you nodded, overly eager for him. He hooked his finger in the waistband peeling your leggings and underwear down in one sweep. He could see how wet you already were for him, from the glistening sheen of your cunt.

He ran two fingers through your folds, stopping at your clit and pushing down. “Oh,” you moaned out at the unexpected pressure.

“So wet for me darling,” Harry whispered.

“I have been waiting for this,” you admitted, looking up to see him smirking at you.

“Oh you have?” He asked, pulling his fingers almost all the way out before plunging them back in. He brushed your g spot with the tip of his fingers making you moan out his name and arch your back. “Been waiting for this?” he asked as he continued to finger fuck you.

“Yes, Harry,” you moaned, as you felt a knot forming in the pit of your stomach. Harry moved his thumb, and you almost whined at the loss of stimulation, until you felt his tongue lick up from above his fingers to your nub, wrapping his lips around it as he began to suck slightly. You were done at that point, and you knew it. “So close har,” you warned, but he didn't falter in his actions in the slightest. Instead he sped them up, pushing you over the edge even faster. With a loud moan of his name, your back arched off the mattress and your toes curled, as you felt an explosion of bliss. Harry continued his movements through your orgasm, only slowing and coming to a stop when your legs quit shaking and you seemed to relax.

“Fuck, y/n. You're bloody perfect,” he mumbled, bringing his lips to yours, you could taste yourself on his lips, but you didn't even mind. All you could focus on was the fact that he was way overdressed, for the activities you wanted to partake in. you grabbed at the hem of his shirt, and he broke away from the kiss to allow you to pull the shirt over his head.

You took a second to admire his bare chest, he was muscular, but wasn't overly defined, and he, well he was perfect.

“You're breathtaking, you know?” You told him, making him turn a shade of red.

“Shut up,” he giggled, before reconnecting your lips in another kiss.

You let your nails graze the naked skin on his back making him groan, and rut his hips against yours. His clothed bulge rubbing against your naked sex. “Take em off,” you instructed. He pushed himself up onto his knees, unbuttoning his jeans, but before he could push them down you sat up grabbing his hands to stop him. “Can i?” you asked.

He smiled at you before nodding. You pushed his jeans down as much as you could, you could see the outline of his cock that was straining against his boxers. You leaned forward, placing an open mouthed kiss on the fabric. “Fuck,” harry groaned. You looked up at him through your eyelashes to see him looking down at you.

“Want me to..” you asked.

“Yes, fuck yes. If you want to, I mean,” he stuttered out. You smiled up at him, pushing the fabric of his boxers down until his cock was free of the restraint. You took his length in your hand, pumping it a few times, as you licked your lips and leaned forward, taking him in your mouth. You bobbed your head up and down as you worked what your mouth couldn't take with your hand. Harry held onto your hair loosely, watching as you sucked him off. “M’close,” he warned you. You continued what you were doing, not caring, he had done it for you, the least you could do was return the favor. You felt him begin to twitch against your tongue, as his grip on your hair tightened and his hips rutted forward, nearly making you gag before you felt him release himself the warm liquid slipping down your throat. You pulled your head back letting him out of your mouth with a pop.

Harry pushed you back onto the bed, making you giggle at his eagerness. He let his body fall to yours, lips crashing in a deep kiss. His fingers laced with yours above your head as he moved his kisses down your jaw to your throat, sucking lightly, leaving small marks that would be a reminder for days. “Harry, I need you,” You whined.

He lifted his head smiling, bringing his lips back to yours. His hand slipped between your bodies, lining himself up at your entrance before sinking slowly into you. He slowly thrust into you, setting a slow pace.

“Faster, baby, please,” you moaned out. He grabbed your thigh lifting it lightly as he began to thrust into you harder.

“You're so tight,” he groaned, as he began to quicken his movements. You reached down, rubbing your nub as he pounded into you.

“I'm close,” You told him as you neared your second orgasm.

He reached down, replacing your fingers with his, “Cum all over my cock darling,” he groaned. His fingers circled your clit, and with one particularly deep thrust, you felt yourself clench around him, as you whimpered at the relief. After a few more movements Harry's hips stilled and his body went limp, laying his head onto your chest. “That was incredible, you are incredible,” he told you as he laid there trying to catch his breath.

You smiled as your eyes fluttered closed, sleep taking over your overworked body.

The weekend passed quicker than it had even come, and before you knew it you were kissing Harry goodbye at the airport where you had picked him up two days prior.

“I wish we had more time,” you whispered as you hugged him, your face buried in the crook of his neck.

“I'll be here next month, love. Five weeks and we will be back together, promise,” He whispered into your ear, kissing the top of your head.

“I'll hold you to it,” you told him, kissing his lips one final time before he had to leave.

“I’m counting on it,” he said, before walking away. Just like that, faster than he had arrived in Scotland, he left for London.

The drive to your place was quiet, and the whole time you were fighting the urge to cry. You parked your car, and grabbed your bag, noticing a pink sleeve peeking out. You unzipped it, and saw Harry's pink hoodie, that he had probably shoved into your bag after you had practically lived in it and only it for the weekend. You couldn't help but smile to yourself. You shoved the hoodie farther into your bag, zipping it up and heading up to your flat.

As soon as you opened the door you were hit with the aroma of a home cooked meal. Sam was standing facing the stove, focused on whatever he was stirring.

“Smells good Sammy,” you said, startling him.

“Oh good, your home. Come stir this for me,” he instructed holding a spoon out to you.

"Yes chef," you said, bringing your hand up to your head and saluting him.

"You're an idiot," he groaned at you. You walked over taking the spoon and began to stir the sauce while he cut up garnish for the top. "How was your weekend with your dad?" He asked.

"Uh good, busy, but ok," you lied. Seemed like you were doing a lot of that to Sam recently.

"So you guys worked everything out from that fight?" He asked you. Your eyes grew wide, realizing you had fucked up. You and your dad had gotten into a fight about money, and afterwards he had cut you off, and told you to get your life in order. It had been months since you had spoken.

"No, but we pretended so that my gram wouldn't be upset," you lied again.

"Oh, that makes sense. I was confused when you said you were going to spend the weekend with him, I thought you might have been lying to me, glad that wasn't the case," he said as he drained the pasta.

Guilt. That was the only thing you felt. Guilty for being a bad best friend. Guilty for lying. Guilty for not sticking to a promise you had made. You were going straight to hell.

It had been a few days since yours and Harry's weekend, and he was set to be back in a little over a month. You were sitting on the couch, laptop in your lap when the pain started. At first it was a slight pinching sensation, but soon it became like a stabbing pain, and you nearly doubled over from the intensity. You tried to stand up, but let out a groan as the pain increased. Sam looked up, worried filling his face at the sight of you.

“Y/N? You're bleeding, what's going on?” He asked, as he rushed to your side. You looked down to see a line of blood down both of your legs, and immediately got dizzy.

“Sammy, I'm gonna pass out,” You warned him.

“I’m taking you to the doctor,” he told you as he practically carried your limp body down to your car and drove you to the nearby emergency clinic.

The doctors drew blood and put in an i.v to get fluids into you, all the while Sam never left your side, holding your hand tightly as he knew you hated doctors offices.

“Okay darling, we're going to run some tests and get to the bottom of why you're feeling so bad,” the nurse told you, as she left the room. Sam sat beside you as you laid in the bed, squeezing your hand lightly.

“It's alright, you're okay,” he cooed as he stroked your hair. Just then the door opened and a doctor came into the room.

“Miss, Y/L/N, i have some unfortunate news, it looks like you're experiencing a miscarriage,” your jaw dropped as you heard the words coming from his mouth. You glanced up at Sam who was looking at you with raised eyebrows.

“I- what?” you asked. Clearly not registering what you had just heard.

“The HCG levels in your blood make me think you were maybe around ten weeks pregnant, which would explain the extreme blood loss, and the feeling like you were going to faint. The unfortunate thing is that there is not much medically that we can do, so we will send you home. Try and get some rest, take it easy and if you experience any clotting bigger than a golf ball, come back in. ill have the nurse work up your discharge paperwork,” he turned to exit the room but stopped in the doorway, “I’m sorry guys, i know this must be hard news,” and then he left.

“You were pregnant?” Sam asked.

“I guess so,” you mumbled.

“Who have you slept with? What was ten weeks ago? That was like-” Sams face fell. He looked down at you, “That was our holiday week, ten weeks ago,” He told you. You winced at his insinuation, which in and of itself gave you away. “Tell me you weren't pregnant with my brother's baby y/n?” he sighed.

You weren't sure if it was being caught in a lie, the hormones coursing through your body, or the fact that you had just been told that you had lost a baby you were never even aware of, but you felt a sudden surge of emotions, as your eyes glossed over. Sam noticed this almost instantly.

“Shit y/n honey, please don't cry,” he told you, but it was too late as the tears began to spill from your eyes.

“I’m so sorry,” you nearly wailed. Sam pulled you into his arms as you cried your heart out, mumbling things about how ‘awful of a person you were’ and how you ‘didn't deserve him in your life’.

“Y/N, try and breathe, and tell me what happened,” he whispered as soon as your crying settled slightly. So you tried to explain what had happened, where you had gone wrong, and when your heart had been opened to his brother.

“Are you mad at me?” you asked as Sam tucked you into the couch with your favorite fuzzy blanket. He hadn't said a word to you since you had left the hospital.

“I am,” he sighed, sitting down beside you. “Y/n, what happens if he hurts you? If he breaks your heart into a million pieces? What happens when I'm forced to choose a side? What happens when I have to choose him over you even if I know he was in the wrong?” he asked, voice cracking, and tears prickling his eyes. “What happens if I lose you over something he does? I'd be crushed, your my best friend, the person i turn to when things are hard, the one who knows me inside and out, the one id trust with my life, but he is my brother, my twin brother, you are like a stranger compared to the way i know him,”

“Sam-”

“No, y/n. Just- I can't have this conversation right now, because i want to yell at you, tell you how betrayed i feel, but i can't because this- what your going through, is bigger than what i feel right now,” he stood up pulling his phone from his pocket and walking to the front door. “And that's why I called him,” he said before opening the door.

You felt tears form in your eyes again at the gesture. Your best friend putting his own feelings to the side to make sure you were ok. Harry stepped inside the house, offering a small smile to Sam who just nodded at him, obviously hurt. Harry went straight to you, pulling you into his arms as you started to cry again, this time it was even worse.

Harry held you for what felt like hours as you cried until you fell asleep. He placed your body down gently before walking to the kitchen where Sam was standing.

“Mate-”

“No, you don't get to start. Why her? Out of every person in the world, why her?” Sam demanded.

“It just happened,” Harry said.

“That is not a reason,” Sam argued.

“She's it Sam, I don't know,” Harry said.

“You wouldn't have known that had you left her alone,” Sam was verging on pissed at that point.

“No, Sam, you don't understand. I didn't need to know her, the second I saw her in the airport standing beside you, her hair tied up and in that old pearl jam t-shirt. Everything changed, call it a gut feeling, or me being an idiot, but I swear to god Sam, I fell in love with her before she even spoke a word to me,” Harry explained, hearing the words he said for the first time out loud.

“You're in love with her?” Sam asked.

“Desperately,” he admitted.

“I'll hurt you, if you hurt her,” Sam warned.

“I wouldn't expect anything less,”

“And if she hurts you, well, i cant hurt her but i'll give her an earful,” Sam laughed.

“I know,” Harry laughed.

“God it had to be my best friend?” Sam asked, shaking his head in disbelief.

“I'm sorry, the heart wants what it wants,” Harry said.

“Who are you? Selena Gomez?” Sam asked, hitting his brother's shoulder. “I’m sorry, about the baby,”

“I didn't even know there was a baby till you called,” He told Sam.

“She didn't know until today. You guys were careful, yeah?” he asked Harry.

“Uhh,”

“Harry! You fucking div! condoms man!” Sam groaned.

“I know it was just-”

“No, no, no. I do not want to hear the specifics of you sleeping with my best friend, just- next time, CONDOMS!” Sam stressed.

“Okay, okay, that's easy enough,” Harry laughed.

“You look nervous,” Sam laughed from the passenger seat of Harry's car.

“I am,” you told him,

“You have met mum before darling,” Harry reminded you.

“Yeah, as Sam's roommate and best friend, Not as your girlfriend,” you explained. Your stomach was in knots the entire drive from the airport to the Hollands family home. This was all new territory, sure you and Harry had been together for eight months, but meeting the family was a big feat, even if you had met them all before your relationship had started.

“I promise you will be fine, love” Harry assured you.

“I'll hold you to that,” You muttered, as he pulled into the driveway of an extremely nice house. You felt your jaw drop, as you glanced around the house, unaware that they had grown up in such a nice place.

Your door opened, and Harry held out his hand for you to take, which you did. Stepping out of the car and smoothing the bottom of your dress down. “Ready?” Harry asked.

You smiled up at him, “Nope. let's do it,” you squeezed his hand lightly as he pulled you along, Sam following closely behind.

The inside of the house was just as nice, pictures of the boys lined the walls from when they were tots until now. You heard the pitter patter of paws on the hardwood and looked over to see a blue staffy running towards you. Sam dropped down hugging the dog.

“Hi Tess, hi darling, oh i missed you too,” You giggled at the sight of the dog smothering Sam in kisses.

“Just in time,” Niki sang as she rounded the corner. “Oh y/n,” she said, pulling you into her arms. “So glad you could join us for the holidays,” she told you, squeezing your shoulders.

“Mum,” Harry said.

“Oh yes, sorry please go ahead,” she giggled while backing up.

“Mum, this is Y/n, my girlfriend,” Harry said, making you shoot him a strange look.

“Oh so nice to meet you,” she gushed with a giggle.

“What-”

“He insisted he re-introduce us with your new title,” she explained. You laughed glancing up to see a blush covering his cheeks.

“You're cute,” you told him, before being whisked away to meet the rest of the Holland crew.

The night ran late, as you got to know everyone. The whole Holland family was easy to get along with, you spent most of the time laughing at embarrassing childhood stories and telling stories of Sam at school.

“Are you ready to go?” Harry whispered in your ear when he noticed you had yawned for the third time. You nodded, eyes feeling heavy from the long day. You went around saying your goodbyes to everyone, Sam opting to just head back later. So you and Harry took off to his flat which he shared with Tom and a few friends.

Once you got to his place, he grabbed your bag, leading you inside, and passed two boys who were occupied in front of a video screen. “You can meet them tomorrow,” He told you as he helped you up the stairs.

His room was nice, quite what you would expect from a boys room, plain bed, empty dresser, there was a shelf full of movies, and a large tv, but nothing extreme.

“Can i have a shirt?” You asked. “To sleep in?”

Harry smiled at you before walking over to the dresser and pulling out an old t-shirt. “This one will look nice on you,” He told you.

“Help me out of these clothes?” you asked. He leaned forward bringing his lips to you as his fingers found the zipper on the back of your dress. He unzipped it slowly, pushing it off your shoulders before it fell to your ankles, revealing the lingerie set you had bought for him.

“Oh god,” he groaned looking at the black and gold lace that lined your body.

“You like it?” You asked with a cheeky smile.

“I'm going to like it even more once it's on my floor,” he told you as he grabbed your bum, lifting you up and carrying you to his bed. He threw you down, and you landed with a giggle as he attacked your neck with kisses, trailing the patterned lace that laid over your breasts with one hand. “The things i want to do to you,” He growled in your ear.

“Do whatever you want baz, i'm all yours,” You said with a wink.

“Whatever I want huh? What if I just want to make sweet love to you all night?” He asked, catching you off guard.

You smiled and brought your thumb up to his mouth tracing his lip and the birthmark right beside it. “Make love to me then,” you whispered.

Harry bit his bottom lip, as he looked into your eyes. “I love you,” He blurted for the first time.

You felt your smile grow even wider, as you leaned up, kissing his lips softly. “I love you,” You mumbled into his lips.

You stayed tangled together, lips clashing, tension burning between you, for a while.

“Harry,” You moaned into his kiss.

“Yeah baby?” He asked.

“Make sweet love to me?” You nearly begged.

He smiled wide, jumping up and walking to his dresser, pulling out a little foil square and tossing it to you before quickly undressing himself. You took the chance to slip out of the lingerie you had on, laying naked and waiting for him.

He crawled onto the bed next to you. “Sit down,” you told him.

“Yeah?” He asked excitedly.

“Yeah,” you told him.

He sat down, back to the pillows, and legs spread open, waiting for you. You ripped open the condom, rolling it over his member slowly in a teasing manner. “Y/N” he groaned, making you laugh.

“Alright,” You laughed, climbing on top of him, and lining him up to your entrance.

“This feels familiar,” He whispered as you sank down onto him.

“Going back to the beginning,” you whispered as you began to move slowly. You wrapped your fingers in his hair as you brought your lips to his, letting all the love flow between the two of you.

“I love you,” Harry mumbled into your lips.

“I'm in love with you,” You told him. He grabbed your bum before flipping you onto your back. “Harry,” You giggled.

“I'm so glad I found you y/n. I feel like I had been lost at sea and you were the lighthouse that guided me home,” he expressed.

“Harry,” You whispered feeling your heart skip a beat.

“I love you so much,” He whispered, before connecting your lips again, and moving his hips, sinking farther and farther into you with each thrust. You continued to kiss him, fingers tangled into his curls as he grinded into you, bringing you both to your breaking points.

“Harry,” You moaned as you reached your climax.

“God Y/n, you look so beautiful falling apart because of my cock,” he groaned as his thrusts became rigid and rough.

“Cum for me, Harry,” You moaned in his ear as he reached his peak finishing into the condom.

He rolled off of you, disposing of the condom in the bin by his bed and turning back to you.

“I love you,” He whispered again.

“I like the sound of that,” You sighed, as you snuggled into his body. “And I love you too,” you whispered.

#harry holland #harry robert holland #harry holland smut #harry holland imagine #harry holland fluff #harry holland x y/n #sam holland #harry holland x you #harry holland x reader #harry holand x female reader #sam holland best friend #harry holland one shot

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luvrlou · 3 years

Note

hello hello there !! may i request a cc!tommyinnit x gn!reader ( platonic or romantic is your choice ) where reader has been living in a city for the majority of their life , not being able to see the stars well , so tommy decides to take them out of the city and to a park where they stargaze together ?? tysm !!! <3

Come See the Stars

Pairing: p!Tommyinnit x GN!reader

Warning: Swearing, a slight mention of alcohol

Summary: Tommy takes his best friend stargazing.

A/N: Congrats on the 2 world records big man, it's very poggers!!

You were abruptly awoken by a loud crash followed by a booming, "FUCK!"

After a few seconds of silence your phone started to buzz, looking over at the vibrating box, you quickly clicked accept after seeing who had phoned.

"Tommy, if you don't mind me asking, why exactly are you creating a racket outside my house," you paused to check the time, "at three minutes past one in the morning?"

"if you come outside then I'll tell you!"

"My parents will kill me if I leave," you try reason with him but he remained consistent.

"Please Y/N, I have such an amazing surprise for you!" He pleaded.

Finally, you gave in, "fine, I'll leave through my window, just stay put."

You laughed quietly while Tommy celebrated on the other end of the call. Quickly, you clicked end call and opened your closet, you picked out a jacket and a pair of joggers.

You swiftly put them on and slipped on a pair of shoes. " what am I going to with this boy," you mumbled while approaching your ajar window.

The window made an irritating screech as you pulled on the handle, swinging your legs out of the window, you sat soundly on the window still. After you had spotted the lanky teenager, who was now frantically shaking his hand while he pulled it out of a nearby bush, you used all your strength to push yourself out of the window.

Tommy turned round as he heard a soft thump, "finally it took you ages!"

You checked your phone before looking up at him, "it took two minutes dumbass. Anyway, why have you coaxed me out of my house at the dead of night?"

"it's a surprise!" He beamed, "okay, this way!"

"Alright tour guide Tommy! Lead the way!" You laugh and follow him out of your garden.

•••

You had been walking for what felt like forever, well at this point it was more Tommy dragging you along.

"How much longer," you groaned, throwing your head back.

"Only like thirty seconds," he announced.

"... And we are here!" Tommy shouts, throwing his arms up. Your face immediately lit up, the destination he had taken you to was a relatively large hill, instead of the familiar buzz of people coming home from drunken nights out, there was a comforting silence.

"Woah! This place is wonderful!" you chime, taking in your surroundings. "Why did you choose to take me here?"

Tommy smiled sheepishly, "you know how you are always talking about how much you would love to look at the stars without having streetlights all around you."

"Aw, Tommy, that's so sweet!" You cooed, while hugging the tall boy.

He nervously laughed and wrapped his arms around your figure gently.

After you pulled away from the hug you lay down on the grass, staring intently up at the sky and its many stars.

For the next two hours you and Tommy lay on the grass, eyes glued on the stars and talked about the most random things.

it was bliss

#tommy x reader #tommyinnit x reader #dsmp tommy x reader #platonic tommyinnit x reader #platonic #mcyt x reader #dsmp x reader #minecraft youtuber x reader #dream smp x reader #lou writes fanfic

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somedrunkpirate · 3 years

Text

learn the dead | Arthur/Eames

Read here on ao3 or continue below Tags: Presumed Dead, First Time, Angst with a happy ending, pining Rating: T Wordcount: 5,4k

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

Everything checks out.

The hospital records, the police report, even the fucking local news because, to quote scruffy looking anchor, with a stutter no less, “There has— sn’t been an lethal acc—sident for over ten years on this s—street.”

The information is bare-bones, but that isn’t remarkable for an open and shut case like this: drunk driver meets tree trunk. Happens a thousand times a year, and will continue to happen whether you make a fuss out of it or not. Write down the licence plate, try (and fail) to inform relatives, do the paperwork and get home on time for dinner for once. Simple as pie.

Except. Except Arthur wouldn’t have. He wouldn’t have driven drunk. His stick reaches too far up his ass to do something so utterly reckless in reality.

That thought is what had spurred Eames to begin his search— there had to be something, anything, that could explain the whole bullshit situation. Even if that something is a hit, covered up like an accident. Then at least Eames would have some to blame— Someone to kill.

But everything checks out.

Even that initial discrepancy. Arthur couldn’t have been drunk, but after many phone calls and bribes, Eames had learned what Arthur could have been.

He could have been high.

His last job had been an experimental trial. Not with a chemist Eames knew. An academic who had shit his pants when Eames barged in with a smile as sharp as a knife— and a knife in his hand, of course. Wouldn’t do to be less than intimidating in this case. The chemist had spluttered into a rant Eames had understood half of, so he’d called Yusuf and held the phone up without responding to the cursing at being awoken in the middle of the night. But he’d caught on quickly, started to ask questions Eames wouldn’t have thought to ask. Then more, sharper. With a hiss.

“What is he saying?” Eames had asked, after the chemist had run out of breath.

“Eames—“

The way Yusuf sounded, a sigh more than an utterance. The tone of his voice as it tried to fold in pity— badly. Yusuf was never quite made for compassion. Though the attempt had been enough to haunt Eames’ nightmares since.

“Eames. He’s dead.”

The confirmation had come without fanfare in the end. Eames didn’t even kill the chemist, after. It hadn’t been his fault that the mix Arthur had taken voluntarily turned out to suppress reflexes when tired. Not tired as they would call it— after a rush job, when exhaustion nipped at your heels. Just tired; about to drink a cup of coffee tired. Arthur probably hadn’t even felt any different until it was too late. But it had been raining, and he’d been driving for more than six hours. It was no one’s fault that Arthur had lost control over the vehicle just in front of the only tree in a three mile radius.There had been a rabbit flattened between the car and the bark. He’d probably been trying to save it.

A fucking rabbit.

Eames had hung up on Yusuf without a word. It had been the last time he’d spoken to anyone for a long time.

Except that isn’t quite true.

“Well, darling, you’ve gotten me in quite a pickle.”

The grave doesn’t respond. It never does.

— — — — —

If someone had told him that his reaction to Arthur’s death would be to stand before his grave every day for a month straight, he'd have laughed his lungs out of his chest.

It would’ve been sad, of course, to see such a talented colleague go. He might even have gone on a bender for a week— drinking away the sorrows that come with a lost acquaintance— maybe a friend. But he’d have better things to do than indulge himself for longer than that. He’d been indulging himself with Arthur for far too long, and death should have been the end to it.

Because he had been thinking about it, sometimes, when he was feeling fanciful. You would have had to be blind not to see the chemistry. The push and pull that led to delicious flirtation — as much as Arthur wanted to deny it — and even more delicious dreamsharing. They made each other better and that was honestly the only thing Eames ever looked for, when, if ever, he thought about that nebulous concept of ‘settling down’.

So yes, there would be something more to losing Arthur. Eames had known even then. It was losing that slight hint of potential. Though that is always a treacherous word.

Because he never truly believed he’d make it that far— not just with Arthur, who would’ve laughed even harder if Eames were ever to confess his vague future plans for them — but with life in general. Why plan for something that would be cut short anyway? Even if Arthur could be persuaded to make something out of the spark between them, it would’ve been cruel to do so. Eames knew himself well. He wouldn’t have stopped taking risks, stop wanting more-- craving freedom like a drug. The idea to set Arthur up for inevitable heartbreak had been enough to avoid thinking about practical steps. A fantasy was fine. Eames got paid to live in them. He didn’t get paid for reality.

So, Arthur’s death would of course be sad. But it shouldn’t have been more than another scar on his back— the punishment of the trade he chose, along with a whisper of nostalgia at losing a construct of his imagination. Even he wouldn’t have had the heart to keep the fantasy of a dead man alive for his own entertainment. A week, a few drinks, and it should’ve been over.

It shouldn’t have destroyed him.

“I just never thought I’d be the one left behind, darling,” Eames says to the wet dirt below him. It feels off to tell the headstone itself— the name is fake. Aaron Fister. Arthur had thrown a knife past his head when Eames had shown him the forged papers. To say he regrets the joke now is an understatement.

“In all fairness, it should’ve been you here, it would make more sense for you to fall in love with me, once I’m not there to bother you anymore. Absentia makes the heart go fonder, hmm?”

The dirt seems to be judging him. It’s good that some things never change.

“I know— I know it's hypocritical. I didn’t even— I didn’t even love you. It was just a game. A fun thing to theorise about when the goings got tough. Would you be as snappish if we lived together? Would you forgive me faster if I sucked you off? Would you kiss me goodbye in the airport?” Eames stops himself, and rubs a hand over his face, groaning. “It’s humiliating, darling. I should’ve just gotten off at the thought of you like half of the dreamshare community was doing. Hand on or in their whatever and imagine you moaning next to them. But I had to be pathetic about it. Though this is reaching new heights, I must say.”

He leaves, abruptly sick of himself. He comes back the next day, as always.

Some days, though, Eames doesn’t devolve into confessions that make the little old ladies passing by their lost friend’s grave raise their eyebrows and linger by a random grave to listen anyway.

Some days, Eames is angry.

The first time, he breaks his toe in the process.

“You bloody cunt!” He’s aware that he’s shouting, but he doesn’t stop. “Never experiment alone! Isn’t that what you fucking say to the newbies? You need someone to be a baseline. Someone who can bring you home safe. You fuck. Why didn’t you call me. Why didn’t you fucking—“

Kicking the gravestone had not been his best idea, but the pain of it brings a rush of satisfaction. There is— so much, inside of him. Eames is drowning in it, and the throb in his feet cuts right through it. Clarity. He kicks again.

“You fucking bastard.”

The old ladies have gone from curious to concerned now. Eames hobbles away, hissing, before he gets a restraining order on a grave.

The next day he’s back, a bottle of whiskey in hand, and finds himself apologising.

“I know— I never made it quite clear that you could call me, for stuff like that. That I would pick up. Maybe I wouldn’t have. Or no, I would have, but I might not have bothered for that. The jobs— I knew how to handle you on the job. But outside of that. I don’t think I would’ve had the courage. I wouldn’t think that way then, of course. Convince myself that I’m above errand runs like that. Throw you a bone recommending some up and coming kid I knew or something— intern type, for all that we have those here. But I don’t think I would’ve come. So it isn’t your fault. You made a mistake, not getting back-up, but it isn’t your fault. You didn’t know you had any. And I didn’t dare to believe I could be yours. That you would let me. That it wouldn’t end in disaster.”

Eames leans against the cold stone and sighs. “’Suppose it has, already. Would’ve been too good to have it end any other way.”

— — — — —

When Eames isn’t in a graveyard, or in a bar, he’s in the warehouse.

It had felt too… personal, to get a hotel room for this. To do his research in a living room, as opposed to the dreary, dusty and echoey spaces where most of their professional relationship had flourished. It’s too big for a one-man job, but Eames had managed to fill it up anyway. Boxes upon boxes of information, any trace of Arthur he could find. Every email, record, police report, college paper— printed and archived. Eames can find his way through the documents blind and drunk. Arthur has taken over every nook and cranny of the warehouse— and every nook and cranny of Eames’ mind. Eames has read everything, twice over.

If Arthur had been alive to know, he would’ve killed him.

Because Arthur had always been a private person, for all that he pries in the lives of clients and collaborators both. He was the one who asked the questions and rarely answered them. It had always been a luxury— a rare reward, to be thrown a scrap of information. He’d always said something with that slight subtle smile, like he knew the power his breadcrumbs of personal life held over others. Everyone ravenous for more intel on one of the greatest pointmen of their generation.

How horrible is it then to revel in the mountains of information that Eames had been able to gather after his death. He’d always known he’d had enough pull to find something, and after the inception job he’d had more than enough cash to buy the rest. But he’d never done it; at first because of the wrath that would quickly follow. Then because he’d known it would tarnish Arthur’s trust in him— something he’d wanted to protect at all costs. And then lastly — but maybe from the start — because it was so much more thrilling to learn bit by bit, piece by piece. To earn his knowledge of Arthur, and to ensure that his curiosity would never run out. He’d become slightly addicted to the feeling.

But now, with no one left to tell, it had only taken the excuse of the suspicious circumstances of his death for Eames to turn into the hoarder he’d always known he could be. It had gotten to a point where new packages arrived every so often— criminals even beyond dreamshare having caught wind of an individual willing to invest heavily on any information. Someone had even hacked the pentagon to get classified documents. From the message on the box, the hacker thought they were helping a spy of some kind. Eames had sent him enough bitcoin to blow wind in the direction of that particular fire hearth of urban legend. He’d rather have people think there is a whole network of people digging into this, than anyone realising it’s in truth only one pathetic man.

So Eames drinks. Eames talks to a grave. And Eames reads. It only takes him two boxes until Arthur makes him laugh for the first time since the car crash. It was due to a spirited essay on the importance of open source information that was clearly written to spite the professor leading the course, who’d been forced to give it an A+ regardless. Eames had chuckled, imagining the self-righteous satisfaction of this young Arthur as he got his grade back, and then began crying. Not to grieve the loss of a future he hadn’t realised how much he wanted, as is his wont, these days. But from the unfairness of it all. That a person like this, who had so much to say in this world, should’ve been taken so early, and in such a meaningless way.

Arthur would’ve denied it, but Eames knows he’d only be content with a death from sacrifice . He’d shown that side of him clearly when he jumped into Cobb’s mess headfirst and without hesitation. If Arthur had died from a bullet taken for Cobb, Ariadne, or maybe even Eames, he would’ve been at peace— or as much as you can while bleeding out.

Eames had known that, but as he learns more and more of Arthur, he realises how true it is. How, despite everything, Arthur cannot stop himself from being a silent hero. There are so many instances where Arthur, behind the screens, helps someone. Whether it was connecting the right people to each other under the mum of a potential project, or taking jobs way below his pay grade because he sympathised with the client, Arthur did not let their line of work destroy the possibility to be kind, every once in a while.

It’s not like he advertised it. He didn’t do it in a way people would recognize his actions— which was smart, as it could be seen as a weakness in their circles. But whenever the chance came along, even if it was to his own detriment, Arthur chose the rough road home if it would ease someone else’s way.

And this, Eames realises, is the secret to his competency. All other pointmen are expert researchers through and through, but no one had the reach Arthur had. Arthur knew everything, and if he didn’t know, he knew someone who knew— and most importantly, someone who would tell him. Eames doesn’t even know if Arthur ever realised that it was his kindesses, in and out the community, which led him into such a position of power. His actions are too random and inconsistent to be a strategic scheme to build an empire. Some of his biggest successes are results of a nicety five or ten years ago, something that he might have forgotten doing, but the people receiving it definitely haven’t.

On the surface Arthur had been known as cool and effective— someone with a distance to the rest of the world that resulted in a highly detailed overview of any situation, even if it brought a side of professionalism to even the most informal of interactions. The people who witnessed a more casual side of him were few and far in between, but even those came away with the impression that to Arthur, doing the job in the best way possible was the only drive to his actions.

No one had seen every little thing he did that had no other reason at all besides that he could do them for someone.

Eames maps out everything on the walls of the warehouse. And when he stands back to take it all in, he realises that more than anyone, the person Arthur had silently helped was him.

Everything he’d done for Cobb had been grand and obvious, but more out of loyalty to Mal and her children than kindness without any other motivation. And Ariadne’s training had been as much for the inception job than for herself— maybe introducing her to the life hadn��t been a kindness at all. Continuing after could be seen as one, even if you could argue that her honing her raw talent would directly result in better and more stable dreams in later jobs.

But Eames— what Arthur had done for Eames—

Eames can’t think of a single reason besides just being plain nice.

Because it hadn’t been like he needed to. Eames had made him very clear that he’d be down for almost any job Arthur put in front of him. Just him being himself had always been enough, he didn’t need to do him any favours to persuade him like everyone else did.

And maybe Arthur had gotten the memo, because he’d done Eames favours without ever telling him, and those you can’t pay back. Eames had no idea the reason he got out of that trouble in Chicago was because Arthur bailed him out— it was presented to him as a procedure mistake. And then there was the Telula job, with an extractor-architect team Eames had wanted to work with for ages, but the chemist they’d been looking to hire was someone from Eames’ not so smooth first years of dream-share and he’d almost cut out of the job to not be forced to confront that past. That was until the chemist suddenly dropped out with an offer he couldn’t refuse— an offer Arthur had been behind.

There were so many things like that. Little things, small things— warehouses next to Eames’ favourite restaurants; nuggets of information given anonymously through the channels of dreamshare gossip to hit Eames’ ears right on time before a betrayal; a job a week delayed because of Eames’ mother’s funeral.

It’s not like Eames had been the only one, but he was by far the most frequent of all of them. More and more so over the years, like Arthur had been finding more reasons to be nice to him, while Eames had still been stuck in his pathetic imaginations, blind to what was already in front of him.

A friendship.

He’d been so preoccupied with his own flights of fancy, that he only realises how close they had been all this time until it was too late to experience it. Too late to thank Arthur for everything he’s done.

The agony of it— the longing. His heart thundering with the sudden need to have Arthur in his arms, alive and real and—

“Oh god. I love him.”

Eames drinks until he can’t remember. He manages to avoid the grave for a little while, but he doesn’t last long. Inevitably he’s pulled back to the grave yard, whiskey in hand, ready to talk to the love he lost again.

— — — — —

His cemetery routine— because he has one of those now — is usually to be at the grave around noon. Late enough to roll out of bed reasonably comfortably after a long night of drinking and/or reading, but early enough for there to be time left to check the new documents coming along and pay the right people before they send thugs to his hideout.

But this time the afternoon light shines golden over the rows and rows of headstones and Eames shivers in the Autumn breeze. The old ladies are all dressed in fur coats. He recognizes some of them, and wonders if they noticed he was gone. None of them greet him as he passes, so he assumes not.

Eames takes another sip of his bottle, allowing his feet to lead him over the familiar path up the hill, and then he drops his bottle all together.

A man is standing before the grave.

Tall, hunched a little in the wind. Long coat and thick black beanie. Nondescript. Anonymous.

He does not turn as Eames nears.

“You’re late.”

Eames’ hand is on his gun at the first syllable, but before he can put it on his temple a leather gloved hand snatches it from his fingers. The clip ejects with a decisive click.

Arthur gives him an unimpressed look. “Don’t be dramatic. We don’t need a scene.”

His face— a little gaunt. His eyes— tense, intent, darker than they should be. Eames doesn’t recognize the coat. But he’s there, pressed in close to hide the gun between their bodies. His breath— warm, hits Eames’ cheek. It isn’t— It can’t. He can’t be breathing because he’s—

Eames squeezes his eyes shut and thinks of metal against the palm of his hand, the smell of gunpowder.

A sigh falls between them. “It won’t work. This isn’t a dream, Eames.”

The hell it isn’t. “Experimental somacin, three levels.”

Raised eyebrows shouldn’t be audible only through speech. “Do you remember how you got here?”

Eames opens his eyes and says, “Deep immersion dream.”

Arthur huffs at that. “Do you really think they’ve been keeping you under for years? Fine. When have you last lost memories?”

Oh, that’s easy. “Two days ago.”

There is a pause, and Eames hates the fact that he can see the exact moment of tension in Arthur’s jaw that signals him suppressing a question. It’s too detailed, too precise, too re—

“Later,” Arthur murmurs under his breath, almost to himself. Like later is a given between them. He seems frustrated. His eyes keep flicking to the side and his hand hovers near Eames’ arm, like he’s trying to keep himself from hurrying Eames along and is annoyed that Eames is stalling them.

“I’m sorry darling,’” Eames drawls, “but in case it has escaped your notice: we are having this discussion on your fucking grave, so forgive me for being reasonably sceptical about the reality of this situation.”

Arthur breathes out a deep sigh, clenched teeth. “Eames, think about it, is there any forger you know capable of forging me in a way you can’t see through it? Or for that matter, is there anyone who would dare to try steal from the fucking person who invented the craft?”

No. The answer is no. It hits Eames with a muffled weight. He wonders what his face is doing, but whatever it is, Arthur responds to it with a curt nod. It suddenly strikes Eames as absurdly hilarious, in the way only the most traumatic experiences can.

“You know, complimenting me really doesn’t help with the reality argument. Never mind doing it twice. Death changed you, darling.”

Arthur stills in the middle of putting the clip back in Eames’ gun. There is the slightest flicker of his lips, and he huffs. “Maybe it did— can I trust you not to shoot yourself the moment I hand this back?”

“Come on now Arthur,” Eames says, “Don’t be so dramatic.”

And there— there it is. Arthur rolls his eyes as he presses the gun into Eames’ waiting hands, and a part of Eames’ breaks with it. Still muffled, still numb, but something is lumbering closer. He can almost hear its laboured breaths.

“There you are,” Eames says, smiling. “You don’t know how much I missed that.”

It is a miracle he doesn’t choke on the words.

“Glad to be remembered for something,” Arthur is saying, and now he’s pushing Eames— gently but with intent, away from the grave. “And I’d like to keep it that way, so we need to talk before your insatiable curiosity ruins everything I worked for.”

Eames doesn’t know if it's the words, or the press of Arthur’s hand against his back— barely sensable beneath all the layers but even the slightest hint of pressure sets him alight— but all at once everything falls into place.

“You faked your death.”

“Have you always been this slow on the uptake?”

Eames barely hears him. Reality is roaring and there is space for nothing else. Arthur isn’t dead. Arthur isn’t dead. They’re standing on Arthur’s grave— an empty grave. A lie. A trick. He’s been fooled because Arthur isn’t dead, he’s right here. He’s touching him because he isn’t—

Arthur isn’t. He isn’t.

He’s alive.

Eames doesn’t say anything the rest of the way to wherever. If Arthur speaks, he doesn’t strain to listen. Because Arthur isn’t dead and if he hears anything at all he’s either going to scream or kick the shit out of him just like he did on that stupid fucking grave— just to check that this one isn’t made of stone but flesh and blood and he is alive.

His fists hurt from clenching by the time they enter a hotel room. Something of the turmoil must have reached Arthur because he’s gone quiet. The roar lets off the very moment the door clicks closed and Arthur stands before it, uncertain, almost as if he regrets closing off his only exit. His expression is one Eames knows very well— preparing himself for a fight he saw coming too late. But he isn’t reaching for his gun. He just stands there.

He’s just waiting to take it.

Eames kisses him.

He’s alive, he’s alive, he’s—

A heartbeat feels more real when it’s underneath your lips. A pulse against a jaw— up, up to feel breath against breath. To hear the rush of it— a hitch of— of surprise.

Strength— dead people don’t have strength and Arthur is pushing him so he can’t be dead.

“Eames—“

Alive, alive, alive.

“Eames! Wait!”

Eames pushes closer. He places his forehead against Arthur’s, presses them both against the door. Arthur isn’t pushing him away anymore but his hands are still on his chest. Eames wonders if he can feel the beat of his heart. He hopes, quietly insane for a moment, that Arthur will never forget to make his heart beat as long as he is feeling one. As long as he’s given an example on how to live.

“Eames,” Arthur says. A word, a question, a name. All in one. His eyes are wide. Breathing heavy— breathing, breathing, breathing— and he’s flushed. Sharp cheekbones stained red. Lips wet.

Eames’ hands move of their own accord and cradle each side of Arthur’s face.

“Let me, darling. Just let me.”

Arthur breathes again.

Eames trembles, trying to hold himself back. Trying to breathe. But one more moment and he will collapse and he can’t— he can’t risk it. He can’t risk losing another chance. He needs this as much as he needs Arthur to be alive. He needs to stop regretting not having done this when he could and now he can again and how can he let this undeserved second chance slip through his fingers. He has to. Please. He has to.

Arthur’s mouth falls open. “Eames. Eames, it’s okay. You don’t have to— You don’t have to beg. It’s okay.”

“Let me, Arthur,” Eames repeats, “Let me.”

Arthur lets him.

Arthur lets him do everything.

— — — — —

It’s after when Arthur whispers, “I didn’t know.”

His head is on Eames chest, moving ever so slightly when he breathes. In and out. Eames has his fingers tangled in his hair. The strands slip away when Arthur turns around to look up at him.

“I didn’t know,” he says again. There is a rasp in his voice and his eyes are wet. Eames has never been apologised to like this before. Arthur sounds as if he believes sorry would be an insult, the word too small to encompass his regret. There is guilt there, in the flush of his cheeks, and the way he can’t seem to hold eye contact. His pupils flickering, microscopic twitches of shame.

Sometimes he’d dream of this. Arthur’s return. A fantasy, a different one, yet still addictive like a drug. He’d expected to be angry, to want to spill his pain onto Arthur’s feet and watch him try and walk through it; burn in it. A stimulation of the magmatic life Eames has been living since his death.

But now, face to face with an Arthur who is alive, Eames doesn’t want any of it.

So he leans down, and kisses Arthur on the forehead, like a benediction, trying to extract the regret from his face. And he tells him, honest in a way he’s learned to be in the last scant weeks, “I didn’t either, darling.”

Arthur doesn’t relax, but there is something about his misery that is easily pushed to the side for curiosity.

Eames smiles at him and continues. “You were— you were a fantasy. A what if. Something amusing to think of when I was bored, or something life saving to dive into when reality drew a knife and stabbed me with it— literally, sometimes. But it was always a fantasy. An escape. It— it couldn’t have become real, if you’d given it a chance back then.” Eames takes a breath, shakes his head.

Arthur reaches up with a hand, frowning, but he doesn’t interrupt.

“But the trouble is, darling, it is incredibly hard not to fall in love with you the more I learn about you.” Eames smiles under his finger tips. “That is what changed. You never let me learn you. But who is to stop anyone from learning the dead?”

Something flickers over Arthur’s face— guilt, again, but different. “I didn’t know you wanted to learn about me— I thought you only gave a fuck about what I could be for you.”

Eames lays his hand over Arthur’s. “You’re right. I was blind— too blinded by the possibilities and too selfish to do anything about it. Maybe I needed to lose you in order to learn how to see .”

“No— No I should’ve,” Arthur shakes his head sharply. “I should have told you. There would’ve been another way without— How long have you been drinking?”

“Don’t ask questions you don’t want the answer to darling.”

“Eames.”

Arthur takes his hand off and moves off of Eames’ chest, sitting up straight. Eames follows him, struck by a sudden vision of Arthur slipping out of bed— out of his life, dogged by misplaced guilt and regret. He curls his hands around Arthur’s wrists, as gently as he can. Don’t trap him. Don’t chase him away.

“No. It’s fine. We’re fine,” Eames hurries to say. “Why would you tell me? I was a colleague at best, bane of your existence at worst. I had— I have no right—“

“I should have told you because I did know you,” Arthur interrupts him. “I was supposed to know. You said possibilities? I am supposed to be the one who sees them— all of them. I’m the one who has to prepare for all scenarios, know the players, do the research and put the pieces together. That is what I do, Eames. And I missed something.” Arthur takes a shuddering breath, looking forlorn and tired. “I’m so sorry for missing the most important part.”

“You can’t apologise for missing something that wasn’t even really there yet.”

“Yes, I can. I’m sorry for missing our potential. For underestimating us. Underestimating you.” Arthur laughs. “I’m so fucking stupid. I thought you kept searching for me out of— curiosity. Or that I fucked up, left a trail somewhere and you wanted to prove to me that you found it, you figured it out. Fuck. I never thought it was because you missed me.”

“I did,” Eames says, and it almost chokes him. “Every day.”

Arthur looks at him then, eyes flicking to the side, his hair covering half of his face, but his smile is visible. “You know, I did too. That’s why I knew you were looking for me. Kept tabs on you, even though I’d promised myself I wouldn’t.”

Eames swallows at the sight— at the hope it instills in him. Arthur let him, yes. It could have been a kindness. But this smile, shy and bashful, and the words that follow it. Maybe potential comes in twos. “I didn’t keep looking because I missed you,” Eames tells him, because he has no time for secrets anymore, no time for regret, for either of them. “I kept looking because I couldn’t accept it. I couldn’t bear it. Darling.” Eames slips his hands from Arthur’s wrists and puts them on either side of Arthur’s face instead, bracketing the smile. “You’re my future. You couldn’t be dead.”

“I’m not,” Arthur tells him, like a confession of his own. “I’m not dead, Eames.”

“Good.” Eames pulls him in closer, and Arthur lets him. He lets him trace the smile with his thumbs, lets him breathe close against his mouth and whisper, “Next time darling, when decide to you kill yourself. Kill me too.”

The grin that blooms doesn’t fit between Eames’ fingers, so he kisses Arthur instead. Deep, possessive. Loving. Arthur lets him, and he never stops.

#arthur/eames #fanfiction #fanfic #inception #inception fic #inception fic rec #arthur/eames fic #dreamhusbands #dreamhusbands fic #im back to writing?#honestly from all the wips and ideas that i have #no clue why this one ended up being the first #but i like how it turned out

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goggles-mcgee · 3 years

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Too Late: Nadja & Alec (Commission for miner249er)

Second chapter of @miner249er ‘s commission!

Chapter Summary: The TVi News Special with hosts Nadja Chamack and Alec Cataldi

Previous Work

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“Don’t be bemused, it's just the news! I’m Nadja Chamack and I am joined today with Alec Cataldi. Today’s hour special brought to you by this studio is ‘The Protector Really Paris’s Protector?’ This has been a hot debate amongst blogs, forums, and many more platforms. We bring you not only the public opinion but never before seen footage of the Protector.” Nadja gave her standard intro and she tried to put as much energy in it as she could but as soon as the words left her mouth she felt sick. If the words had tastes they would have been ash. She knew her studio wasn’t the best, her akumatization was a shining example of that, but her studio teaming up with Alec Cataldi? That was bad news waiting to happen. They sprung this whole ‘special’ on her only hours before so Nadja hadn’t even been able to warn Sabine and Tom about it.

Ever since she was a little girl Nadja knew she wanted to be on TV. At first she thought she wanted to be an actor, she never thought she would become a reporter but when she did she fell in love with it. Following a story and being the one to let everyone know about it, it was a rush she sought for years. Then she had Manon, she still chased stories but she liked to think she had toned down the recklessness people told her she had before, but then Ladybug and Chat Noir showed up and her bosses demanded more of her. More shots of their fights, more close-ups of akumas, interviews with akumas, interviews with the victims, interviews with the heroes, the workload just got steeper and steeper. Of course Nadja was grateful for her city’s heroes, more than anything, Hawkmoth wasn’t just some silly villain like many thought, like her studio thought, he was a terrorist plain and simple and he had covered Paris in a blanket of fear.

Then one day he was gone, along with his accomplice Mayura, but with them was the disappearance of a girl that Nadja cared for deeply. Marinette Dupain-Cheng, she had met the girl when she was a tiny little thing, a little younger than Manon when Nadja had first visited Tom & Sabine’s Boulangerie Patisserie. Nadja had been just starting out at her studio at that time and she had just gotten through her first broadcast so she thought why not buy herself a little reward? A producer at the studio had actually been the one to suggest Tom & Sabine’s, she had been raving about their cakes and tarts so Nadja decided to see if they really were worth all the hype. No surprise here that they really were. What really made that day memorable besides the tasty treats was the little girl who came up to her and held out a hand to her shyly, she had never been great with kids but she did the only thing she could think of and put her hand out.

That was when she had gotten her first ‘Marinette Original’ as her parents had taken to calling her creations. It was a little hair clip with a bow on it, the bow was clearly taped onto the clip but it was precious all the same. She fondly remembered Sabine lightheartedly scolding her daughter for just making someone take something from her instead of asking if they wanted it but it was obvious the little girl didn’t fully understand. Nadja had laughed and laughed and had thanked the girl, she still had that clip, but now she had to keep it in a safe due to thieves who called themselves “modest collectors.” It pained her to see people forget the name Marinette Dupain-Cheng and only remember her as Paris’s last akuma, the Protector. It was hard enough trying to explain to Manon why mommy had to talk about Marinette on the news so much, it was harder to lie to her about when or if Marinette would come back.

Manon had taken to writing letters for Marinette to ask her to come back because she missed her. Nadja had to call into work that day, in the early hours of the morning, Manon had awoken from a nightmare and had been crying. Nadja had gone into her daughter’s room to console her when Manon caught her off guard by asking if the reason Marinette wasn’t coming back was because Manon had been bad the last time Marinette had babysat her. It had taken a long time to convince Manon that that wasn’t the case, and when Nadja got a moment alone she let herself cry and pray to anyone listening to bring Marinette back home to them.

“What do you think Nadja?” Alec’s voice ripped Nadja from her memories abruptly.

“Well-,” She started keeping her face calm though inside she was stressing, she hadn’t been paying attention to what Alec had been discussing.

“If you ask me those kids are as bad as Hawkmoth was! The talk about what happened in that classroom is all the evidence I need.” Oh so he was talking about Marinette’s classroom, or as they have been dubbed, The Akuma Class.

“That’s not evidence Alec, and you should know since you host one of the most watched shows on television, Alternative Truth.”

“That’s right Nadja! Where everything isn’t always true, but nothing is really false! But really, what is your opinion on the akuma class being the reason behind the akuma The Protector?” Alec asked as he turned to face Nadja, though not fully so the cameras would still get a good shot of him. “Many have said they were at school that day and the Protector was there to speak her truth!”

“I...I know I don’t speak for every akumatized person out there Alec, but I do know someone can be akumatized for anything. If the rumors of what went on in that class, in that school are true, then it’s no wonder Mlle Dupain-Cheng was akumatized. I don’t know if anyone would have been able to withstand that treatment.” That was the answer she settled on, she didn’t want to feed any fires and she certainly didn’t want her studio to know she knew what happened in the classroom since Sabine told her everything. Nadja swore she would do her best to keep it off-air, this was her best she reasoned to herself even if she didn’t believe it.

“Too true Nadja! I mean we’ve all seen how many times M Pidgeon got akumatized, or even Gigantitan. A literal baby. One has to wonder how sane Hawkmoth really was, which leads me to a juicy rumor! That our own resident hermit fashion designer Gabriel Agreste was the one and only Hawkmoth.” Alec announced with his usual flair and Nadja, not for the first time by any means, had to wonder how he didn’t get sued, or if he did how he never was scared of the possibility.

“That is quite the rumor Alec. Is there any legs for it to stand on?” She asked per her vague instructions given by the studio's director.

“Glad you asked Nadja! We have a video of The Protector going into the Agreste Mansion and after a period of time, leaving. Now we don’t know what happened inside but hours later we had you and your team there at the mansion along with other news stations when M Agreste and his assistant Mlle Nathalie Sancoeur were brought out of the mansion on stretchers. Then not long after, in your words,’ a dazed Mme Agreste was spotted coming out of the house.’ That was after the police search!” Nadja had to hand it to Alec, he sure knew how to run his mouth.

“I do remember that day. But how is that connected to Hawkmoth?” Now she was genuinely curious about what he was insinuating.

“Think about it Nadja, why would the Protector, an akuma who proclaimed to protect the innocent, go into the Agreste Mansion. Then later it is found that M Agreste and his assistant just so happened to be “attacked.” From the footage we have of the two on stretchers, they were in bad shape and the only one who visited them was the Protector! After that we haven’t heard from Hawkmoth or Mayura. Plus the Protector promised she would get rid of Hawkmoth for the people of Paris.”

“So you don’t believe it was just a random attack that happened at the same time that an akuma was loose in Paris?”

“I’m not saying that. I’m just saying that there are a lot of big coincidences. And I’m not saying definitively that Gabriel Agreste was Hawkmoth, but the rumors do make a compelling case! He had the time to himself to akumatize anyone he pleased, he had a partner, if we are inferring that Mlle Sancoeur was Mayura, and he had a motive. But again this is all speculation.”

“Speculation. Right.” Nadja could feel a familiar sense of dread in her stomach, in her chest, in her throat as she got ready to segway into her part of the special. Her and Alec would continue to go back and forth on their subjects but Nadja had been wary since they started. “Speaking of possible secret identities, recent evidence has shown us that...that may just confirm the popular rumor and theory that Marinette Dupain-Cheng, The Protector, was actually our one and only Ladybug.”

Nadja hadn’t wanted to believe it, that Marinette was Ladybug, not because she couldn’t see the girl as their hero, but because it made too much sense and that scared her. It scared her because it meant they had all placed their lives in the hands of a teenager, they had placed a responsibility that only adults should have to handle, on a child. They took a normal childhood away from her, or as normal as it could be with a villain who preyed upon emotions but the point still stood. It was weird, before Marinette had disappeared, if Nadja had seen a picture of her and Ladybug next to each other she would have said they were obviously different people, but now it was like a slap to the face because of how obviously Marinette was Ladybug and vice versa.

“Now, I know that it is a lot to process,” I’m still processing it, “but let’s go over the evidence and as promised viewers video footage of The Protector in action. This footage was donated to us by an anonymous source who had happened upon The Protector out in the open when she was akumatized. I want to warn everybody, the footage may be shocking to some viewers. Roll the clip please.” Nadja felt like the words shot out of her mouth before she could even think about them but she knew she was supposed to say them so why did they leave such a foul taste in her mouth? She couldn’t even force herself to watch the video a second time, her and Alec had to review every video or post they were going to show on the broadcast and she had barely kept it together then. Now? She felt like she was being held together by cheap scotch tape.

Even if she wasn’t watching the video she could still hear Marinette’s cries, her sobs, she lost the fight as she had a tear fall. She did her best to be discrete as she brought her handkerchief up to blot the tear away but that was a mistake. There on the edge of the handkerchief was Marinette’s signature, she forgot that she had been given it when Manon was born. It was a present from Marinette, the girl had joked it would be a help for all the tears she was crying because she had actually given birth and actually made a tiny human being. The same tiny human being who was distraught that not only was her favorite babysitter gone but Ladybug who she adored. That only caused more tears.

“Wow, you weren’t kidding Nadja...Nadja are you okay?” Alec asked, it was actually the first time she had ever heard or seen him care about anyone else other than himself and she didn’t even know if it was genuine or just for the cameras but it still got to her.

“I’m fine. I’m fine.” She stammered as she wiped her tears before giving the camera a practiced smile. “Now before we discuss everything in that video I will say we do have many more to share so stay tuned Paris!”

As soon as she was given the sign that they were on commercial Nadja couldn’t hold it in anymore, she let herself cry. She had tried to be so strong for Manon, for Sabine and Tom, but it was too much. She was vaguely aware of someone talking to her and pressing a box of tissues into her hands but what snapped her out was her boss’s voice. “Snap out of it Mlle Chamack we have a show to do.”

“Snap out of it?” She asked hollowly, out of her peripheral vision she could see Alec glancing between her and her boss before wiping his hands on his legs and pulling out his phone. “You sprung this on me. You knew I had connections to Marinette and her parents. That’s her name you know? Marinette Dupain-Cheng. She’s not just another akuma, hell she’s not Paris’s last akuma like you have named her! She is a teenager, a little girl! A little girl with a mother and a father who are probably sitting at home watching this wondering why their baby has to be seen like this!”

“The Protector is a public figure, Nadja.” Her boss lamely responded back.

“And what? That makes it right? I have worked here for a long time, I had been pressured to work harder, get the stories, get the results and I did. Never have I felt such shame. I love my job but you make me hate it. She’s a child for crying out loud! Do you not realize that? Ladybug was a child! And all you’re worried about is the story!” Nadja knew she must have sounded hysterical but it was so hard to reign in her emotions once she got started. She knew it wasn’t a rare occurrence nowadays but she hated feeling out of control. “She babysat my daughter, my daughter has been asking me everyday when Marinette, when Ladybug, will come back and I don’t have an answer. But she thinks I do because of how much I report on everything!”

“Nadja...I’m sorry. I didn’t think,” her boss began.

“No you didn’t. And you haven’t. But for once in your life think now. I can’t get through this the way you want me to. I know her, I know her parents and this is probably breaking them. So if you want me to continue reporting, let me do it my way. Or I swear I will take those job offers I have been getting recently and I won’t look back.” Nadja’s voice felt a little hoarse but she didn’t care.

No one spoke for awhile until an intern shakily told them that they would be back on-air soon. Then everything was back in motion. Alec hastily took a drink of his water while Nadja’s makeup artist came out to do touchups, she was very gentle, almost hesitant. Even though everyone was doing their best to relieve the tension in the room, Nadja’s gaze from her boss did not waver, not even for a second, even as he ran a hand over his face. There were murmurs going on, probably about the spectacle she created but she really couldn’t care less.

“...Okay Nadja...You do this how you want to. For what it’s worth, I am sorry.” He finally said.

“I appreciate that.” She breathed out. “When we report on her, please just...say her name. She isn’t the Protector, she isn’t just Ladybug, she’s Marinette Dupain-Cheng and she is still missing. Yes, she was Paris’s last akuma but that’s not all she was. Yes she was Ladybug. Our hero who did everything to keep us safe, even when she was akumatized. She is also a daughter, a granddaughter, a friend. Not an icon. Not a celebrity. So for the love of God have some empathy. Yes we are reporters but we are more than that as well.”

Again it was quite but then there was a chorus of murmured agreements, even from her boss and Alec. She gave a firm nod at everyone as she took a deep breath to steady herself for when the cameras would be turned back to them once more. This time though she would get to talk about Marinette as more than what every other news station, magazine, newspaper, and blog had been painting her out to be. Her and Alec would still do their parts, they would still talk about what they were assigned but Nadja was determined to put more humanity into the special.

“I’m sorry Nadja. I have never thought about it the way you have. I guess I was always in the mindset of the akuma being separate? If that makes any sense?” Alec admitted.

Nadja gave him a sad smile and patted his hand. “It’s okay Alec. I understand...when I was Prime Queen...I didn’t want to believe it was me. For a long time I refused to believe it was me, but it was. The akumas are people and I think it’s time we start acting like it.”

“Yeah...yeah I think you’re right.” Alec mumbled. Nadja wasn’t sure if her words truly did anything, everyone in the TVi studio knew how Alec was, but maybe now that Hawkmoth was gone, maybe everyone could move on and grow.

Nadja turned to face the cameras when the cameraman waved to get their attention and started his countdown, when she knew the cameras were on Nadja gave them the most sincere smile she could. “Welcome back everyone, Nadja Chamack here with Alec Cataldi as we continue our special, ‘The Protector Really Paris’s Protector?’ Before we continue on I would like to start off with I lied before when I said I was fine before the commercial break. I knew Marinette Dupain-Cheng, the one you all like to refer as her akuma name, before I continue on with the rest of my report I would like to tell you about her.”

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