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the-chosen-fanfiction · 1 year

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Lazarus | Sweeter Than Apples And Honey | Romantic

Requested: Yes

When your friendly neighbour Mary invites you to join her and her Son Jesus to the Rosh Hashanah Festival, you get acquainted with one of His friends whom you find to be rather charming.

Running your hands through the bowl of water, you deeply sigh and force back your tears. Although the sound of chatter and music drifts under the gap between your door and the wall, as does the scent of fresh food, you’re not feeling like celebrating the New Year at all.

Yet another year of being alone. Yet another year of being a widowed, struggling mother. Yet another year of taking care of your child by yourself, not having anyone to assist you, not since abba passed away.

“Eema,” your little one asks, tugging on your skirt, “Can we go to the party? Please? Yael and Tirzah are coming, too, and I want to eat the sweets!”

You take the wet bowl you had been washing and dry it on your apron.

“I’m sorry, Saraï, but we will not be going today.”

“Why not?” she asks, pouting. There is a bit of porridge left at the side of her mouth and you wipe it away with your thumb.

“Because we don’t have anything to bring with us.”

She plants her hands on her hips and gives you an offended look. “But eema, I can’t live without my cinnamon rolls!”

You smile wryly and kiss her forehead. “Well, luckily you are also a cinnamon roll, so there’s that.” Saraï cannot fight the laugh and wipes the spot where you had pressed a kiss.

“That tickles!” she quips, but then gives you another pleading look. Your attempt to distract her has not been fruitful. “Eema,” she whines, “Can I at least go look at the people walking there?”

You sigh and look at the pile of dirty dishes you still have to work through, and then give her a nod. “Of course,” you say, “Don’t walk further than the end of the road, okay?” When she doesn’t reply, you raise an eyebrow, “Saraï? I mean it.”

“Yes, eema.” she mumbles and quickly throws on her sandals to rush out of the home. A wistful sound leaves you and your vision is suddenly blurred. You swallow away the lump in your throat, for you don’t want to cry no matter how guilty you feel towards her.

You would have loved to bring her to the Feast, but you cannot bear to show up empty-handed. Several women in Nazareth had been so kind to you when your husband Eitan had passed away due to a sickness that took him fast a few years ago. You had never found the money or luxury to pay them back for their aid, so you felt the burden of having to give back to your community.

Inhaling deeply, you force back your tears and continue on your work. A knock on the door suddenly startles you, causing you to drop a cup back into the water. Much to your relief, it does not shatter. You dry your hands on your apron and grab your veil to cover your hair, clearing your throat before opening the door.

Your neighbour, Mary, stands with a kind smile on her face, beaming at you. “Shalom, (Y/n). I was wondering if you’d like to come with us to the Festival!”

Your mouth falls open in slight question when you see your daughter hold Mary’s hand, hidden behind the older woman’s leg. You huff in amusement and smile, putting a hand on your chest and bowing your head. “I appreciate the offer, Mary, but I… I really can’t afford it.”

Mary clicks her tongue and shakes her head, grinning. “Oh, nonsense, (Y/n)! You don’t need to worry about that! We’ve got you covered, trust me!”

Unconvinced, you keep on protesting: “I have already leeched off the women in the village after Eitan died. I can’t just keep on doing that!”

“Eema, look, it’s Jesus!”

Before you can stop her, Saraï runs towards the Man Who seems ready to leave with a leather backpack over his shoulder, and he broadly grins. “Shalom Saraï,” He looks up at you and waves, “Shalom, (Y/n).”

You gently smile. “Shalom,” you tell the Son of Mary, Who scoops up your daughter, making her laugh.

“You are so much taller than the last time I saw you. You were still a little Saraï back then, now you’re a way bigger Saraï!”

She giggles, and your smile falls. “I… I really don’t want to bother you, Mary.” you tell the woman, “I can’t pay you back, I’ve got no money, I’ve–”

“I know, and it is alright. I’m inviting you, okay? You’re with us, and I’ve brought this.” She shows you a covered bowl of food. “Come on, put on your sandals. No Jew can be left behind because of their financial status, hm? The Festivals are for everyone and you deserve some fun, too.”

Saraï lets out a pleading sound at you whilst Jesus gives you a questioning look. “Eema, can we please go? Please, please, please? I want to play games with Jesus and eat cinnamon rolls and apples and—”

“Alright,” you give in, breathing a laugh, “You’ve convinced me.”

Both Mary and Jesus let out a sound of delight and you extinguish your candles, slip on your sandals and take an extra tunic for warmth as well as a few extra items for your daughter that you put in a bag that you throw around your shoulder. Locking up your house, you follow Mary towards the crowd that is making its way to the large field outside of Nazareth.

“It’s been a while since I’ve been at any Festival,” you admit to Jesus, Who carries Saraï upon His shoulders. Her hands have laced themselves in his dark hair and hold on tight whilst she looks around and happily chats to herself about the things she is seeing.

“My eema told me what happened to your husband.” Jesus reveals. “I’m sorry for your loss.”

You hum and cast down your gaze. “Thank You. It’s not easy, but I’m surviving. After all, it has almost been two years since it happened. So, how have You been? You’ve been stirring up quite a bit of trouble, or so I’ve heard. Rumours about you being uh…” You lean closer to Him and lower the volume of your voice, “The Messiah.”

Jesus chuckles. “Ah, it’s not yet the time to talk about that just yet.” He says, “I will tell you more about that soon. First, let’s enjoy the festivities, okay? Don’t forget to allow yourself happiness again, (Y/n).” He gives you a serious look and you gulp. “In the past years you’ve been putting your daughter first in your life, which is a good thing. But you matter, too.”

You huff and let out a small noise. “Well, I’m not sure about that, Jesus. I’m busy enough as is. I’ve barely got time for anything other than taking care of her.”

“But you are forgetting yourself altogether. This little girl will not be little forever, and it will leave you completely alone in the end. One day, she will be grown up, get married herself and move out. Don’t let things come to be that way, that you’re old and lonely.”

Flushing, you give a small shake of your head. “Ah, I’ve… I’ve had my fair share of heartbreak, Jesus. Besides, who would ever want a poor widow like me?”

The sound of shofars all around reaches you when you walk onto the sunny field, where several stands have been erected with food displayed on them, and people are dancing and singing, wishing each other a happy Rosh Hashanah.

A few people walk up to Jesus and you reach out your arms to Saraï to take her from the Rabbi. “Come on, darling, let’s not bother Jesus right now, okay?”

Jesus smiles at the little girl as she obediently follows your command. “We will talk later, okay Saraï?” Jesus tells her, and she nods in agreement. You scoop her up onto your arm and carry her around for a while lest she wander off right away, and together, you walk around, greeting people here and there as you explain to her what the Jewish New Year is all about.

At a certain moment, the pair of you grow hungry, and you wonder where you can get some food without your heart feeling too encumbered by taking from these people who are giving out of the kindness of their hearts and having nothing to gift them in return, but someone clears their throat behind you and you turn at once, readjusting Saraï on your arm.

A kindly smiling man stands in front of you with in his hands a plate of honey and cut apples. He has dark, cropped hair with a pair of sparkling eyes, and you cannot remember having seen him before. “Shalom,” he says, “Shanah Tovah. Would the two ladies like something sweet to start off the new year with?”

You place down your daughter, who has started to wriggle on your arm now that she is presented with food, and you gratefully bow your head at him. “Shalom, and Shanah Tovah. Please, if it’s not too much to ask?”

“Of course not,” he quips, “Otherwise, I wouldn’t have come here to offer it to you, right?”

Flushing a bit, you almost feel embarrassed. Saraï chooses the largest chunk of apple she can find and dips it into the honey, gathering the greatest amount of the sweet goop she can get on there before sticking it into her mouth, but it already runs down her hand.

“And what do we say, Saraï?”

“Thwank ywu!” she mutters with stuffed cheeks, munching on the fruit. You give her a smile of praise before turning to the stranger yourself.

“Thank you very much, sir.”

He grins and nods. “You’re very welcome.” His eyes sparkle as they meet yours once again and you feel a strange spark ignite within you, thinking immediately that this man is attractive to look at. Perhaps it is the attitude he radiates, like there is something fun and youthful about him even though he must be around your own age.

Right when he is about to turn away, Saraï pipes up: “Eema, can I go play with Jesus now?”, and he stops to look at the girl in surprise.

“Of course you can,” you give her a positive answer, and when she runs off, you notice that the stranger who had offered you the food is eyeing you rather curiously. “Is anything the matter?”

“You know Jesus?”

You smile a bit and nod. “Yes,” you say, “Ah, His mother is my neighbour. You know Him, too?”

The man nods eagerly, pivoting to face you again. “Yes! He is a good friend of mine.”

Your eyebrows rise up in surprise and you smile. “Oh! What a small world we live in… You’re not from around here, though…”

“I’m not,” says the man, who props the bowl of apples and honey onto one arm before reaching his hand out to you. You shake it gladly. “My name is Lazarus.”

“I’m (Y/n).”

Lazarus smiles and repeats your name. “I like that.” he states “That is a sweet girl you’ve got, very inquisitive.”

Laughing lightly, you shyly let your gaze fall to the floor, tucking some hair behind your ear before readjusting your veil. “Thank you, she’s six. And uh, well, I’m trying my best to raise her well.”

The kind man you just met frowns slightly and looks around to see if anyone is approaching you. “Are you… Here with your husband?”

Your smile falls into something more wry and you shake your head. “No, he… He passed away a few years ago. It’s just Saraï and I.”

His mouth falls open slightly as his brows knit together. “Oh… I’m so sorry to hear that.” Lazarus murmurs, genuine sorrow in his eyes.

“I’ve learnt to cope. It’s lonely, but I’m still standing.”

Something sad flashes in his expression. “Hey, you shouldn’t forget about your own wellbeing, (Y/n)!”

You let out an amused huff. “That’s funny, you’re the second person who has said that to me today, the first one being Jesus.”

Lazarus chuckles. “Well, then you must follow that advice.”

You take another piece of apple and dip it into the honey.

“Are you here with your wife?”

“Ah, no, with my sisters. I’m not married.”

Your heart skips a beat, although you’re not sure why. For some reason, you’re relieved to hear that. “That’s surprising.” you state before you can stop the words, and Lazarus frowns, a tad flustered.

“What… Do you mean by that?”

Suddenly, your face feels hot. “Did I say that out loud?” you squeak, but before Lazarus can acknowledge this, Jesus walks up behind him.

“There you are.” He says, “I was already wondering where all the sweet apples went.” His gaze goes to you and He smirks knowingly. “I see that you’ve met my friend (Y/n).”

“Yes,” Lazarus breathes, “We ah, we were just talking!”

Saraï peeks out behind Jesus and tugs on His tunic. “Come on, let’s play the throwing game!”

“Of course,” Jesus reassures her as He wraps an arm around Lazarus, “You go find Rafi, okay? I still need to convince Lazarus to come and play.”

Immediately, the young girl rushes off with a soft: “Shalom eema!”, and all three of you watch her as she goes to follow Jesus’ command.

“You know,” Jesus pipes up, pulling Lazarus with Him as He turns to follow your daughter, and He pats his friend’s chest. “That child is still looking for a father-figure in her life.”

You nearly choke on your own tongue upon hearing the words, and Lazarus is equally as red as Jesus says this. Your eyes lock with Lazarus’ for a second and that same spark makes your heart flutter, and you wrap your hand over your mouth to fight the blush.

Casting a look over His shoulder, Jesus calls out to you. “Don’t forget to come cheer us on in a few minutes, (Y/n)!” He tells you. With a wink, He continues whispering something in Lazarus’ ear, who casts another shy glance your way.

Dumbfounded, you stand in the middle of the field for a while, mulling over the words. Then, they click with what Jesus had insisted on earlier, that you shouldn’t keep putting yourself aside for Saraï’s sake, and perhaps it was indeed time for her to get a new person in her life she could call abba.

With a widening smile, you make your way over to the playing field where Saraï has teamed up with Lazarus, keen on observing the game. They get on like a house on fire, and you haven’t seen Saraï this competitive in a long time.

Maybe that this Jewish New Year marks the start of something else altogether.

#the chosen #reader insert #the chosen x reader #x reader #lazarus x reader #chosen x reader #the chosen season 3 #lazarus

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mydisenchantedeulogy · 2 years

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Where the Tainted Kiss [Chapter Nine] Fate [Vaas Montenegro]

A/n: thank you to my readers for all the support you've given me on this story. I appreciate it. If you'd like to be tagged, please let me know and I'll start a tag list.

Warning(s): Vaas being Vaas, torture, firecrackers, threats, mention of alcohol abuse.

No Minors Allowed!!

Liv narrowed her eyes in concern as she stared at the metal 2-gallon bucket that Vaas had pulled from the back of the Scavenger. She had no idea what he was doing with it, but she knew that it could not be good.

"Cheer up, querida (darling). I have something special planned for you once we return to the outpost. My pirates have been working hard on it all morning," he stated with a grin.

Now Liv was curious. What did he have planned for her? She was nervous; there was no need to deny it. As far as she knew there were still several episodes to film, though she wasn't certain. Vaas had her head all sorts of messed up lately. She was second-guessing herself; confused about how she was seeing him. Yes, he was a murdering psychopath, but he was also cordial towards her. It made no sense.

She found herself growing fond of him when alone; their little talks were a breath of fresh air compared to the other happenings on the island.

Perhaps his insanity was infecting her.

Liv took an uneasy breath and tried to focus. Vaas should be the last thing on her mind or at least needed to be at this time. She walked beside him down to the beach and over to the tripod - someone had moved it for her - offering Chris a sincere smile. He looked worn-out, but at least he was alive.

Once the camera was set up, she gave Vaas a quick nod; the sooner this was over the better.

"Good morning, Chris," the said man greeted as he walked into the frame and kneeled. "Did you have a good night's sleep?"

Chris uttered yeah despite not looking rested. He looked out of his mind.

"You look like shit," Vaas pointed out.

"Please no more. Please," Chris attempted to beg.

The former turned his eyes to the camera in concern; fake or not, it was hard to tell.

"Seriously, you look like shit."

Vaas stared at Chris a moment then slid the bucket over his head, ignoring the actor's questions as to what he was doing.

"I'll be right back."

The pirate stood and ran to the tree line where Carlos was standing, taking something from him. Liv narrowed her eyes in question and watched as he flicked open a lighter, catching the string of something on fire. She recognized the familiar hiss and watched in horror as Vaas ran over to Chris, shoving firecrackers beneath the bucket. He held it down in childlike excitement as they went off; Chris shouted in pain.

Once it was over, Vaas slowly lifted the bucket, calling out his name in a singsong voice.

Wisps of smoke floated into the air, but Chris didn't reply. His eyes were shut and his head was slumped over. Liv felt her heart speed up; she already feared the worst. There was a reason people were not allowed to toss firecrackers at one another – it was dangerous – and he had taken them to the face.

Vaas laughed and leaned down to examine him.

"Chris?!"

There still was no reply.

Looking up at the camera, Vaas saw the worried look on his camera operator's face. He turned his attention back to the silent actor.

"Chris, you didn't think that was funny?" He poked his cheek. "Amigo (friend)? Chris wake up."

Oh, no.

"Chris, hey!" Vaas shook the actor's head. "Stop fucking playing games. Chris?!"

Suddenly, he leaned up and turned towards the group of pirates near the tree line.

"CARLOS! GET SOME WATER! BRING THE BATTERIES, THE SPIDERS, EVERYTHING! BRING IT!"

Liv watched the wall of a man race back into the dense jungle, most likely heading towards the Scavenger. Were they trying to exacerbate the situation? Throwing spiders on him or electrocuting him wasn't going to help.

Vaas continued to attempt to wake him, but when Chris wouldn't respond, he cursed beneath his breath and took off after Carlos.

Liv panicked. She turned off the camera and ran over to Chris, collapsing to her knees in the sand. Reaching out to touch his dirty face, she pressed her fingers against his neck to check for a pulse. He was alive, but he needed water. Averting her eyes to the jungle, she tightened her jaw, then took an uneasy breath and grabbed the 2-gallon bucket.

Running down to the ocean, she filled it, but a sudden irritated shout made her jerk in fear and turn. Vaas rushed towards her.

"Where the fuck do you think you're going?" He asked. Yanking his gun out, he watched her fall to her knees and cover her head with one hand; the other was wrapped firmly around the bucket.

Liv shook in fear. She just wanted to help. Her eyes filled with tears.

"Get up! Get the fuck up!" Vaas shouted as he aimed at her. He was livid.

The nerve of her.

Standing hesitantly, Liv hugged the bucket close. Her heart was erratic, so much so, she feared she might faint.

"Please... I––"

"You what?! Hmm?" He paused and turned his attention to the object in her arms. "And put that fucking bucket down."

What was she doing with it? Seeing the water inside, Vaas put two and two together. He scratched at his brow, then turned and shouted into the air.

The pirate then laughed and turned his attention back to her. "Fuck, querida (darling). I thought you were running on me... I thought this puta (bitch) has balls."

Liv sobbed; she was terrified. It was a stupid move on her part.

Vaas reached forward and took her by the arm, leading her over to Chris. He had to wrench the bucket from her hands, but once he did, he motioned for Carlos to come over, ordering for him to take her back to the Scavenger.

"And don't point any fucking guns at her," he added as Carlos pulled her along.

She didn't understand why, but the wall of a man did as instructed, keeping his gun near his side as he took her to the vehicle and ushered her into the backseat.

"Luck must be on your side, puta (bitch)," Carlos uttered.

Liv shot him a glare. She wanted to smash his face in with her shoe, but she ignored his comment and leaned down, resting her forehead against her knees. Her nerves were a wreck. Gripping her keychain in one hand, she covered her head with the other. Tears poured down her face as she sobbed.

It took a while for Vaas to return; Liv had lost track of time. He passed along the news that Chris was alive and OK – she doubted the latter – then got into the back next to her. She refused to lift her head as the vehicle started and drove down the road. Even as it rocked and bounced, Liv kept her head down.

Back at the Broken Neck Home outpost, Vaas ushered Liv from the vehicle and walked her through the gates; she shambled like a zombie the entire way.

"Carlos!" He shouted, pausing near the door to the mobile home.

The said man came to his side.

"Have the assholes bring the thing."

"Yes, Jefe (boss)."

Once Carlos was gone, Vaas opened the door and ushered Liv inside. She had no idea what was going on, and at the moment, she honestly didn't care. Her body was still shaking from the incident and her eyes were sore. However, she was aware that the pirate had taken her to the makeshift bedroom where the laptop was. She sat on the bed as he took her phone from his pocket, putting it on the charger. Before he sat beside her, he turned on some music.

Bob Marley's 'Waiting in Vain' played quietly in the background. Liv raised a curious brow. His choice of song was odd. It detailed Marley's frustration with having to wait for the love of his suitor without knowing whether or not it would work out. Though, perhaps Vaas just liked Marley; Liv had several of his songs on her phone.

Hearing a sudden knock on the door, an unnamed pirate brought in a tray of fruit; mango, banana, and kiwi were among those she recognized. He sat the tray down on the bed between them, then left a moment, bringing back two glasses of red wine. When offered one, Liv shook her head no; she hadn't drank a drop of alcohol in almost ten years, and though she wanted it, she opted not to indulge herself.

"That's Argentinan wine. It's the best," Vaas mentioned.

"I... Had a problem with alcohol when I was younger. I stopped drinking, but I appreciate the gesture," Liv explained in hopes that she wouldn't offend him.

He snorted.

"You are an unpretentious woman; I can respect that."

That's more than most he knew.

Motioning for the glass, Vaas told the pirate to fuck off.

Liv raised a brow in question. What was going on?

"May I ask a question?"

"It will cost you," Vaas answered.

Of course, it would. There were far more important questions to ask than the current one. Between the music, the fruit, and the wine, it wasn't hard to figure out. But why? Liv took an uneasy breath. She took 10 from her pocket and gave it to Vaas; the money was crinkled and worn from having to be sun-dried.

"In addition to the 20 that should be enough for a question."

Vaas grinned and raised two fingers.

"For almost shooting you."

How kind. Liv had to refrain from turning up her eyes. At least she had another question. How truthful Vaas answered them was another story.

"What are your plans for me?"

"You don't like to be surprised, querida (darling)?" He asked.

Liv shook her head no, tightening her jaw. All she wanted was information. She watched as Vaas picked up a piece of mango and put it into his mouth, sucking the juice from his fingers.

"Eat your fucking fruit and I'll answer your questions."

She hesitantly ate a kiwi slice, humming as the bitter juice covered her tongue. It was delicious.

Vaas grinned and ate another piece.

"We're going to ransom you, but not until your face heals."

Ransom her? Liv widened her eyes. So, Vaas and his men were traffickers. And murders. But what about them? His victims. Why did he not ransom them?

"And if no one pays?" She asked in a panic.

"That's question two," Vaas pointed out.

Shit!

Liv let her emotions get the better of her. Tears filled her eyes. She was going to use her second question on Barry; not waste it on herself.

"Do you have no one to pay for you?" Vaas asked.

She had her aunt but as an RN, she didn't make nearly enough to pay whatever amount Vaas was going to ask for; she knew it would be ridiculous too.

Did that mean he was going to kill her?

"Hmm? By your silence and those unneeded tears, I guess the answer is no. But others will pay well for you," Vaas mentioned.

He stood up and yanked the charger from her phone, silencing the music. Turning it towards her, Liv stared at her tear-stained face in the camera. Her eye was black and her hair was greasy and unkempt; a cut on her lip made her frown.

"Look at you," Vaas ordered. "For an Americana (American), you are preciosa (gorgeous). Some rich fuck is going to pay a lot for you."

That didn't make her feel any better. She wasn't going to die, but the idea of being sold to someone made her sick to her stomach. Liv reached down and clutched her keychain.

Why did you have to leave me? This never would have happened if you had--

Vaas tore her from her thoughts, snapping his fingers in her face.

"Why are you crying? Always with the fucking tears."

"I can't-- I'm so pissed," Liv answered with a huff.

She had every right to be. Her life was a fucking joke.

"You feeling destructive?" Vaas asked.

He grabbed her by the arm and yanked her from the bed, leading her outside. Near the gate, Vaas took out his gun and put it in her hand, positioning her towards the jungle.

"Go crazy," he ordered.

Liv was stunned. Did he not consider that she might turn and shoot him? No. He did and that irritated her more. She stood there for a moment, glaring at the gun in her hand.

"Have you ever shot a gun before, querida (darling)? A modest woman like you--"

Steadying the gun with her left hand, Liv yanked back the hammer and aimed down the road, having no particular target in mind. With the safety off, she slowly emptied the clip until it was exhausted, then took an uneasy breath. Her anger wasn't sated, but she felt a little better; too bad there were no actual targets.

"I think I'm in love," Vaas uttered.

Liv snorted.

"I'm from Hope County," She mentioned as she handed the gun back to him. "Everyone there knows how to shoot a gun, even the preacher."

The pirate grinned.

"Continue to surprise me, and who knows, perhaps I'll keep you."

Her face heated up. Part of her knew that was a terrible idea, but part of her wanted it. With time, she might be able to escape. Her fate was not yet set in stone.

#vaas montenegro #far cry 3 fanfiction #vaas x oc #far cry fanfiction #far cry 3

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holysmokesblog · 2 years

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𝐔𝐧𝐧𝐞𝐜𝐞𝐬𝐬𝐚𝐫𝐲 𝐯𝐢𝐨𝐥𝐞𝐧𝐜𝐞

Vander x reader

Family x reader

Words: 2.2 k

Warnings: Violence

Summary: A worrying event breaks into your routine, you must intervene so that no one gets hurt, but you end up being attacked

The record player gave a pleasant murmur to the environment, there were hardly any customers so early, which already indicated that it would be a quiet night. You appreciate it, after all it is quite exhausting to attend to the Last Drop completely alone.

You wiped down the counter again that for a dozen times this day, rambling about how Vander's absence would force you to cook dinner tonight. One of the back tables motioned for you to bring them another round but the front door being slammed took everyone's attention.

Powder stumbled through the tables to get closer to the counter, you stared at the door for a few more seconds waiting for the rest of the group to come through the door but no one else entered. You looked confused at the little girl noticing for the first time that she had a trail of tears and dirt down her cheeks.

"They took them," she said, terrified. Several customers along with you gazed at her. "They took my sister and the boys."

You almost jumped over the counter to reach the girl's face and force her to look at you, you didn't understand what she meant but you started to panic too.

"They? Who are they? Where are the others?" You didn't even notice that everyone fell silent in anticipation of Powder's response.

"We have to find Vander," she sobbed. "The enforcers took them."

A collective gasp filled the last drop, you couldn't help fear from crossing your expression, but seeing how you scared Powder even more, you took a deep breath trying to calm down.

"I don't know where Vander is, he'll be back tomorrow," you spoke with distress in your voice. Powder's sobs only made you even more nervous and the room around you began to spin nonstop, the air began to stop passing into your lungs, it was chaos, chaos. Powder's thin hands clung to your clothes shaking you slightly forcing you to come to your senses; you had to do something, now.

"It's closed, everyone out now!" Nobody dared to question you, although some walked slowly to the exit trying to know how you would act next.

You passed your hands over your face trying to cool your brain for a second to think clearly. "Okay, Pow stay here in case Vander comes back," you said hastily throwing your apron to some corner of the place.

"No, no, no, let me go with you, don't leave me alone," she begged. You'd be lying if you said you didn't think to take her with you right then, but you had no idea what you'd be up against.

You shrunk down to her, running your fingers through her hair, over and over in a meaningless attempt to reassure her. "I need you to watch over the place, please Pow, can you do that for me?"

Powder jerked her head away from your grasp but finally nodded. You would take care of her later, your priority right now was something else.

Without another word you went through the gates quickly, you had to get to the border quickly and pray that they still had the children there. It was like everyone around you was moving extremely slowly getting in your way, you even had to push some out of your way.

Like a distant light, you glimpsed the station on the edge of the border, you prayed to all the gods that they were there, safe and that by some miracle there is a fucking topsider willing to help you.

You entered without knocking, taking several glances at some officers present there. You looked for some trace of that unmistakable pink hair but found nothing.

"What are you doing here?" One of the front desk enforcers asked you. You didn't like the way he addressed you, but you still didn't react. You couldn't lose your mind in a place like this.

"They told me that you have my children detained, I came to look for them," you tried to be as calm as possible. The enforcer who had spoken first gave you a judging look from head to toe before lightly laughing.

“We have many detainees here, you should be more specific.”

“There are two boys and a girl, she has pink hair, they are very… distinctive.”

He looked at you in silence for a few seconds, you could see how the other enforcers didn't take their eyes off you either, on guard, as if you were going to attack them at any second. You clenched your fists without being able to contain it, no one moved, no one had the intention of helping you. You opened your mouth to speak again but with a sign one of the guards walked down a corridor making noise with his keys making you close your mouth again.

The tension in the air could be cut with a knife, you hated being in a place like this and they hated how your presence 'stank' their immaculate place. Despite still being in the lanes this place had a different vibe, with its decor and architecture clearly from Piltover.

When the three children you were looking for entered the place, you couldn't help but sigh in relief, they were there, bruised and full of wounds, but you had them in front of you. You wanted to get closer to them but one of the enforcers at the entrance got in your way. You looked at him without understanding and finally, the receptionist spoke again:

"Well, I see that they are your children, I'm happy for you," he said Ironically. "Now, I need some documentation that proves that these are your children."

"What-? I-I don't have any of that. They are my children, you can ask them.”

The guard looked at you then looked at the children repeatedly before finally sighing, “Go get the documents that prove your 'maternity'. Otherwise we can't give them to you,” he declared and made a sign to his companion to return to take your children to the cell.

"No! Can not do that!" You approached the counter but a force pushed you from behind, bending one of your arms and hitting your head against the solid wood, now you were immobilized.

You heard the children protest and struggle but you couldn't look at them, half of your body was glued to the wood with your neck forcedly turning to the right, you tried to shake yourself but the topsider behind you bent your arm even more making you yell in pain. Helplessness ran through every corner of your body causing your eyes to fill slightly with tears, you were completely immobilized.

"Attempting to attack an officer ma'am?" The guy at the counter tilted his head to look you in the eye. "That's the damn problem of this city," he began speaking, you still heard the children complaining and screaming but their sounds were drowned out by your own heart pounding in your ears “The garbage like you who believe that everything can be done as they want and when they want. Everyone is the same, you trying to attack an officer, your stupid children trying to steal, it's an endless cycle, a problem that must be rooted out."

You shook your legs and back again to tighten the key which they held you prisoner with, the muscles of the shoulder and part of the arm protested as if they were going to explode at any second but an uncontrollable rage filled your veins.

In a second you put your head in the correct position and forcefully hit the face of the officer who was holding you causing him to let go of you, you quickly hit him again this time with your healthy arms. You didn't have a plan, just an adrenaline rush, you didn't have time to take cover when strong electricity attacked you.

"Mom!"

It was as if your entire body went into a collapse and every muscle stiffened painfully, when the current stopped making contact with your skin you carelessly fell to the ground. Every movement that you tried caused you pain so you chose to stay still.

"Mommy, mommy, are you okay?" You forced yourself to raise your head and reassure the teenagers who had never stopped struggling to let go.

“Take her to the cell too. Charges of rioting and attacking an officer." One of the officers picked you up, you couldn't do anything to resist. “You and your children are going to have a good time in Stillwater." Without much strength in your body, you concentrated and glared at him. You were trying to come up with a damn plan in your head but you seemed to have no escape.

The front door burst open and you fell back to the ground as the officer holding you was flung across the room with a single blow. You looked at the one who was speaking to you, scared but a woman got in the way of your husband.

“I don't want a war, you have your family. Go away."

A dead silence reigned throughout the room, a pair of hands resting on your face forcing you to look at it, it was Mylo that you didn't know how he had let go, he pinched your face a couple of times for you to react. You took it as a point of support to get up but it was as if your whole body was contorted into a painful knot.

You had barely gotten up when two strong arms lifted you off the ground with ease. To tell the truth, it was a relief not to have to force your body to stay upright, but you felt completely limp and weak. The remorse didn't stop spinning through your conscience, if it weren't for the sudden appearance of Vander you would have ended up in that cell where nobody comes out with your children.

"Let's go," the hound of the lanes roared to his puppies who didn't hesitate to obey leaving through the front door. His body also turned with you in the direction of the exit when the woman spoke again.

"I think that in the future you and I could reach an agreement... For the good of the subway."

You watched your husband glance at the woman before he snorted and left the establishment. You could see it in her gestures, she was exuding anger, but she held back. You couldn't help but see how that young Vander wanting to fight against everything that came his way was still there wanting to get out, but it was the best thing for everyone that he stayed hidden.

"Y/N, are you okay?" Vi was the first to approach, her eyes were moist and her face full of bruises, you wondered for a moment if you looked just as bad.

"We were scared, they didn't have to do that, they're damned," Mylo added angrily, you looked at the rest, Claggor only took your hand that was hanging loose and caressed it gently.

"But we're going to solve it," Violet said. "We will attack them when they least expect it and..."

"Is this a fucking joke?" Vander's grip on you tightened causing you to gasp slightly. “Your mother is in this state because she came looking for you! Because you got into trouble! Even though I told you not to! Are you going to do the same?!” You didn't dare to add anything else, the trio also remained silent too scared to reply. “Walk. To home. Now."

You saw the children walk without making another sound, you waited for them to get a few meters ahead of you before speaking: "How did you know we were here?" Your vocal cords protested.

"Powder went looking for Benzo, miraculously she found me," he didn't look at you, he just continued with his gaze glued on the children's back, it was an ache that he didn't even address you completely when he spoke to you.

"Are you coming back?" You said, he looked at you blankly. "To talk to her." He adjusted his grip around you to make you a little more comfortable.

“After what they did to you? Keep dreaming."

"I think you should... Maybe an agreement is the best." Now it was you who didn't dare to look him in the face. "We can't have another war, they would destroy us... Again."

Vander passed one of his hands all over your back and with a little effort he raised your upper half to kiss the crown of your head. You snuggled close to his huge chest listening to the constant beating of his heart, you could have sworn that being by his side made you forget the pain that ran through each of your limbs.

"Rest for now... We'll see how to fix it."

"I don't want to lose anyone else," you sobbed. "I don't want to feel the possibility of losing you or the children again... If something happens to them I'll die." You squeezed his shirt between your fingers while hiding your face.

"I'll see what I can do honey, worry about resting now."

Note: Many thanks to @eexphoria for his help to correct my English mistakes and his comments that always make my day

In case you are interested, the requests are open

Taglist

@illusions-of-qi @wokensiren @atlas-nex @chromaticaa7

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runnning-outof-time · 2 years

Text

To Be Alone | Tommy Shelby x OC | Chapter 3

[ PREVIOUS CHAPTER ] [ MASTERLIST ]

Pairing: Tommy Shelby x OC

Summary: Celia goes out on a date that she wasn’t prepared for, and a secret gets told to the last person she hoped would hear.

Warnings: mention of injuries

Word Count: 3045

A/N: Any and all feedback is appreciated! Enjoy! :)

"And when it got quiet, I ran towards the alleyway to find him just laying there. I was surprised that he was still breathing...sounded like he took a pretty good beatin'," Celia had explained the story of what had happened that night just over a week ago.

Her friend, Vivian, was listening intently, even though she had heard it once before. According to her though, Celia was telling it to William and she was eavesdropping, so it didn't count as her hearing it. "Well look at you being a knight in shining armor; saving the day," Vivian grinned, making Celia's cheeks tint pink, "and for Tommy Shelby nonetheless. What surprises me is that he was even in that predicament," she pointed out then.

"Maybe they caught him with his guard down," Celia pondered out loud.

"Men like Tommy Shelby never have their guards down," Vivian stuck to her point.

"People still have their days."

"They must've been some ruthless people," Vivian shook her head slightly as she spoke.

"There were a good bit of them too...well there must've been because I heard several different voices," Celia pointed out then, in a way attempting to give Tommy the benefit of the doubt.

"There had to have been. 'S not an easy feat to bring Tommy Shelby down," her friend stated dramatically.

"What's so special about Tommy Shelby? You're making him out to be like a god or somethin'," Celia questioned, truly wondering why Vivian kept harping on it. If she had received a pound for every time Mr. Shelby was mentioned in these last few minutes, she'd be able to feed her family for at least a week.

"A god?!" Vivian looked at her with incredulous eyes before chortling to herself, "if anything, he's the devil," she ended her statement in a matter-of-fact tone.

Celia didn't know what to say to that. The reputation that this man had amassed in her eyes over the past week was a rather unnerving one. But at the same time she couldn't get the man who joked with her, who sent her a smile while laying on what very well could have been his death bed out of her head. If he really was a ruthless person, why'd he have to be so damn inviting?

"What I don't understand is that he's now completely disappeared from the hospital. Two weeks before he was supposed to get out too," Celia commented, placing the cup of tea she had been sipping back on the table in front of her before she leaned back against the couch to get comfortable. Vivian gave her a confused look, surely wondering how she'd gotten that information.

Celia now felt the need to explain herself, "I asked Sophia at the desk. She's got records of all the patients there and they were expecting him to stay for a few weeks. He barely made it to one before they went into his room and found it empty."

"Ooo, maybe someone came and took him as a hostage. Or maybe he went all prison break on the place," Vivian immediately started hypothesizing the cause behind his disappearance, making Celia chuckle at her silly made up scenarios.

"Whatever happened to him, I just hope he's doing fine," Celia stated then, the front door to Vivian's home opening then.

The two ladies looked towards it just as Vivian's older brother, William stepped through the threshold. Celia's heart fluttered at the sight of him. He was only two years older than Celia and his sister, and was tall and slim, with short, almost shaved, dusty blond hair atop his head. His eyes were a mixture of green and blue, and, if you stared at him close enough, you could see the freckles that littered his features. Of course Celia looked at him close enough.

"Hello, ladies," he greeted them, a smile on his face as he sent a little wave in their direction.

"Hi, William," they both answered in unison. Vivian sounded simply unbothered by her brother, but Celia's greeting was warm and cheery, and she sat up properly as she said it. William smiled at them before turning into the kitchen.

Vivian turned to stare at her friend once her brother disappeared, the look on her telling Celia that she was in for it, "what was that?"

"What was what?" Celia went on the defensive, attempting to save face.

"You sittin' up all prim and proper to greet my brother," Vivian did not beat around the bush, "You didn't think I noticed that, did you?"

"I was just greeting him, Viv. Is it a crime to greet people nowadays?" Celia questioned, eyes wide as she raised her hands slightly for effect.

"It wasn't just that. It was how you greeted him...'hi, William!'" she stated, doing an impression of her friend then.

"Ok, I do not sound like that," Celia pointed an accusing finger in the direction of the blond woman sitting next to her. She couldn't keep her cheeks from heating up though.

Vivian was wearing a smug smirk as she stared at Celia, as if she was sizing her up for something. "You should ask him on a date," she bluntly said then, making Celia's jaw fall open.

"Excuse me?!" she just about shrieked, the statement coming from out of left field.

"You should ask him out," Vivian repeated nonchalantly with a slight shoulder shrug added for measure.

"I will not be asking William out...are you crazy?! It is not at all lady-like to do that," she declared, now embarrassed and, quite frankly, mad at herself for even trying to give a impression with her greeting.

"You said my name?" the topic of conversation was suddenly standing in the archway, his eyebrows raised. There was no doubt in Celia's mind that he'd heard them. Vivian was never quiet when she spoke.

"Yeah, we were just talking about..."

"Celia wants to go out on a date with you," Vivian butted in before Celia was able to get her lie out. It's all over now.

"Oh..." William trailed off, and Celia didn’t dare to look at his expression. "Would you, um, like to go for a walk or something?" the next part of his statement shocked her because she certainly wasn't expecting it.

"This is the part where you say 'yes', CeCe," Vivian was the one to break the silence between them.

Celia shot her friend a glare, attempting to calm down before she addressed William. "I would like to do that, William. Thank you for asking me," she was polite with him, giving him a glimpse of the type of woman he would have on his arm when they decided to go out.

"Alright then. How about we go, say tomorrow?" he moved on to setting up the 'date'.

"Pssh, tomorrow's too far away. Go now," Vivian pushed the two of them to start their date right away.

"What's going on with you, Viv? You're never like this," Celia looked at her friend incredulously once more. She had never seen her like this - being so forward. Usually she was subdued, much like Celia herself was. That was why she gravitated towards the woman.

"What I see in front of me is two people who haven't had someone in their lives romantically since as far as I can remember, and I think it's about time that that changes," she professed, smiling proudly that she had been the catalyst that would change that.

"I've only been living here for a few months," Celia hissed, still feeling embarrassed and now slightly shy. She wasn't ready for a date. She looked a mess, in a subpar dress. Her hair wasn't even curled like she liked to do it whenever she was going to be the presence of someone she'd fancied. This date was going to be a disaster.

"That's a few months too long, CeCe," Vivian stated matter-of-factly.

"Says the person who also hasn't had anyone."

"You don't know what I do in my spare time," she grinned, making Celia roll her eyes and shake her head. She couldn't believe this was happening.

"Would you want to go with me? I mean if you don't, I understand," William spoke up from his place under the archway. Celia blushed once more as she realized that William was still there and had heard all of this.

"If you wouldn't be ashamed of having me on your arm looking like this," Celia stated then, motioning to the outfit she had on.

"I think you look beautiful, Miss Farraday," William grinned then, making butterflies flutter in her stomach. She felt embarrassed to be having this type of child-like reaction. She was 27 years old for crying out loud. Women aren't supposed to be feeling like this around potential suitors.

"Thank you, William," she stared at her knees in an attempt to hide her blush.

"This is the part where you two go. Now," Vivian urged them to get out once more.

So Celia stood up, sending her friend who was still sitting one last glare before she walked towards William. With a shy smile, she allowed herself to link her arm with his before they made their way to the door. Here goes nothing. Celia entered the Robinson's tailoring shop the next morning with a smile on her face. She still had the events of yesterday's surprise date playing in her head. William was such a gentleman. He took her to this small eatery on the main street, where they both had tea and talked about their lives. Then they walked a bit more before he offered to take her home. She obliged and he said goodnight with a kiss on her cheek - much like a gentleman would.

"Good morning, Miss Celia!" Edith was behind the counter now, a smile on her face.

"Good morning, Edith!" Celia chirped back, her greeting similar in nature to that of her boss.

"Walter's in back. I'll let him know you're here," she smiled then before retreating back to find her husband. In the meantime, Celia stepped behind the counter and grabbed her apron. She was just finishing up tying it around her waist when the bells rang.

A gasp left her lips when she looked up, seeing the last person she expected approaching her. Well, it wasn't really the last person, because he had been there just a week ago to pick up his suits. "Hello, Mr. Shelby," Celia greeted him, a bit of a worried expression on her face as she took in his features. His right eye was now open, but the skin around it was still pretty bruised, and a few major cuts on his face were still present although they were healing. He was pretty pale though and his walk gave the idea that he was still hurting, even though he was trying so hard not to show it. Celia just knew.

"Hello, Celia," he greeted her, coming to stop right in front of the counter, where he sort of leaned against it to catch his breath. Leaving the hospital earlier than he should have and taking a boat to Camden Town with several bruised ribs wasn't his best idea, but it was what he needed to do. He was a sitting duck in that hospital bed. Inspector Campbell had found him, so who's to say that Sabini and his men wouldn't have. Hell, this woman had even found him...something that he was still confused about. "And I thought I told you to call me Tommy," he stated then, making the woman in front of him laugh slightly before she glanced down at the counter.

"I would, but this is supposed to be a professional transaction," Celia stated then, hands gripping onto the counter as she tried to fight back the urge to reach forward to grasp his face in her hands and make sure that he truly was ok.

"I'm here to pick up a suit for me brother. Name should be Arthur Shelby," he told her and she nodded, moving promptly to go to the back and find it.

"Here you are," she said as she laid it back on the counter. Tommy nodded, but Celia spoke again before he could leave, "what happened to you? Why did you disappear from the hospital?" she asked.

"Had business to attend to," he responded, not going into detail on what that business was. She didn't need to know.

"But you look terrible, Mr. Shelby. Leaving there early could have hurt you more than you had been already," she continued, doing what she hoped she wouldn't and reaching forward to take his right cheek into her hand. He winced initially at the touch but didn't move away as her warmth seeped into his slightly cold skin.

"I know, love. But I'm doin' alright now, eh?" his response came as a question, almost as if he was trying to convince her. She then noticed where her hand was, and pulled it away quickly as she began apologizing profusely. He just chuckled at her.

"Mr. Shelby," Mr. Robinson's voice finally cut off Celia, who had been saying sorry in multiple ways for about a half minute. "Nice to see you again. How are you feeling?" he then asked the younger man in front of him.

"I'm doing ok, Mr. Robinson. Business is back to usual," Tommy nodded his head firmly after he finished.

"That's good to hear. We were all worried about you after Celia here told us she'd found you in the alleyway that night," Walter disclosed, making Celia's eyes fall to the counter again. She didn't want to see how Tommy would have reacted because she'd hoped that her deed would have stayed anonymous.

"Well thank you for that, Celia. I don't think I'd be standing here if it wasn't for you finding me," Tommy spoke, his scratched up hand falling on top of Celia's being the thing that made her glance up at him. His face was expressionless, but she could see in his eyes that he had gratitude towards her.

"I was just doing what I felt was right, Mr. Shelby," she stated shyly, not wanting to accept much credit. Tommy then stared at her for a moment before he nodded, knowing that the conversation would just go in circles if he said anything more.

"Thank you for informing me on that, Mr. Robinson. Ms. Farraday, thank you for my brother's suit," Tommy started to say his goodbyes, just now lifting his hand from atop Celia's, taking with it the tingling sensation she'd been feeling.

"Of course, Mr. Shelby. Have a good day now," Mr. Robinson nodded to him, Celia just standing and watching as he exited the store. She was frozen and unable to say much, even though she wanted to. She couldn't think straight.

"Celia! Someone's here for you!" Edith called out from the front of the store. She furrowed her eyebrows but walked forward, hoping that it wasn't her father looking for some more money. He should have been at work around this time, but it didn't surprise her when he started going less and less, blaming the difference in viewpoints and the threats of strike for his doings. Truly though he was happy with the women in his family providing while he was out feeding his addiction.

She let out a breath of relief as soon as she stepped through the curtains to see William standing at the counter instead of her father. "Hello, Celia," he greeted her, a smile on his face.

"Hi, William. How did you find me?" her mouth let the words out before her mind could stop them.

"I asked Viv," he chuckled slightly. "Do you want to come for another walk with me? I was thinking about going down by the river," he asked then.

Celia immediately smiled at his offer, excited to spend time with him again, but then looked to her boss. "I...I'd love to, Will, but I'm working," she stated.

"Nonsense, Celia. You've been here long enough," Edith spoke before anyone else could. Celia gave her an 'are you serious?' look, and started untying her apron when Edith gave the 'I'm not joking' look back to her. "Have fun you two!" she called to them as they left.

Conversation was flowing naturally as they walked arm and arm towards the river's bank. William was asking her about her day while they looked straight ahead of them. That was when someone familiar came into their sight. "How about we go this way, Celia?" William asked hesitantly, tugging her arm to get her to turn down a street.

"The river's this way though, Will," she responded, eyebrows furrowed as she watched William struggle to get them out of the path of the man in black who was approaching quickly. William just nodded and they walked forward to only come to a stop when the man came closer.

"Hello, Mr. Shelby," William greeted him like he knew he was supposed to, his line of sight directed towards the ground. Celia was still looking at him though, it having been only a few hours since she saw him last.

"Hello, Tommy," she smiled at him, knowing he'd be happy that she used the name he preferred. She didn't miss William's head snapping up to look at her though.

"Good afternoon. On a walk I see?" he asked, his question directed towards Celia rather than the man beside her, who was still gawking like a fish out of water.

"Yes. William asked me to come with him for a walk down by the river," Celia nodded firmly, her arm unconsciously squeezing William's.

"Ah. Just be careful. Bad things tend to happen by the Cut," Tommy stated, looking between both of them before nodding and carrying on.

Celia was confused by the mysterious statement, but William wanted to put as much distance between him and the Shelby man as he could. "What did he mean by that?" she questioned a little further down the lane.

"Let's not talk about it," William answered, shaking his head as he spoke. So she left it at that and they continued walking.

[ NEXT CHAPTER ]

Tagged: @mootiemoose @theshelbyclan

#peaky blinders #peaky blinders fanfiction #peaky blinders fanfic #peakyxtommy #tommy shelby fanfiction #tommy shelby fanfic #tommy shelby x oc #thomas shelby #thomas shelby x oc #fanfic #fanfiction #tommy shelby

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teddyeyeseddie · 2 years

Text

Haunted by the Ghost of You

Pairing: Dean x Reader

Warnings: Minors DNI, Smut Slightly, ANGST, Fluff, Swearing, some MOC!Dean

WC: 1200 +

A/N: This is based on Lord Huron’s song The Night We Met. The first part is Y/N’s perspective of their relationship failing. Second is Dean’s perspective of it getting back to how it was. IK the lyrics aren't right but I changed them to fit the writing. ENJOY

Masterlist

I had all of you

“De” Y/N giggled as Dean’s lips kissed their way up her neck, making his best attempt to distract her from the cooking she was trying to focus on.

“Cmon baby, let’s just make Sammy go get take-out.” He whined, his arms finding their way around her waist, his chin resting on her shoulder as he looked down into the pan she was cooking in.

“Sam left to go see Eileen like 2 hours ago. You were napping” She let out, Dean groaning at her revelation. “Plus, I’m making your favorite pasta. Would you rather have some greasy pizza or a nice home cooked meal for the first time in forever.”

Dean nipped at her neck, causing goosebumps to form across her body.

“If it means I get you into bed faster, I do have the pizza place on speed dial..” He whispered against her neck, making her throw her head back laughing.

“Go sit at the table Winchester, the less you distract me, the faster you can get me in bed.”

He placed one last kiss to her cheek and found his way to the bunker’s dining table, admiring how the swell of her ass peaked out of the bottom of his flannel.

Most of you

“What do you mean I have to stay back on this hunt De?” Y/N questioned as Dean slung his duffle over his shoulder.

“Me and Sammy have it handled, baby. You need some time so just take it.” He stood at the trunk of baby, Y/N holding her own bags. Her heart broke knowing she would have to be away from the man she loved for several days.

“But- I’ll miss you. I can just stay in the motel and help with research if you are worried I’m not in it mentally right now..” She argued, hoping and praying Dean would let her come along.

“Just stay home darlin’, it’s gonna be an easy salt and burn. Invite Charlie over and relax.” Y/N finally relented, leaning up to place a kiss to Dean’s lips. The kiss he left her with was soft. It lacked the emotion and passion Y/N needed knowing he was going to be gone for several days.

Y/N tried to ignore the dread that laid low in her stomach.

Some of you

Y/N placed kisses down the side of Dean’s throat, leaving little marks in every spot her lips touched. Her breath was ragged as she finally was getting what she yearned for. It felt like eons since her and Dean found their place between the sheets. She worshiped every inch of him, appreciating every curve, every scar, every freckle that littered his body.

She tried to give him her all, wanting to make him feel good. He just flipped her over, fucking into her, barely a groan leaving his mouth.

It was over before Y/N even registered it had started. Dean fled from the bed, scratching at his forearm as he walked to the bathroom.

Now none of you

“Just leave me alone Y/N! I don’t want to talk about it, Okay?” Dean all but screamed as he cornered her in the bedroom they hadn’t shared for weeks

“Baby- I’m worried about you. I love you.” Tears streamed down Y/N’s face, trying to recognize the shell of a man standing before her. His chest was puffed out, every ounce of anger was evident in the way he stood.

“Why? Why worry about me? You knew what you were getting yourself into. You knew I took on this mark and you stayed. I begged you to leave months ago but you were too fucking stubborn to listen. Just leave already, I don’t want to be with you anyways. I have the entire world to worry about. I can’t have you pining after me when I fell out of love with you months ago, for fucks sake please just leave.”

Y/N packed her bags that night, leaving her heart broken and shattered on the floor of the room where for the first time in her life, she felt safe.

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

Now none of you

Dean stood before her house, years had passed. There wasn’t a moment since the mark left his body that he wasn’t thinking about that night.

He regretted a lot of things in his life. His relationship with his father, how he treated Sam when he decided to leave for college, but nothing compared to the night he let her go.

The rain pelted against his worn jacket, soaking him to the bone.

He finally gathered up the courage to make his way up the front porch steps, his worn knuckles rapping against the wood of her door.

What felt like ages passed, Dean almost turning to leave. The sound of the deadbolt unlocking stopped him in his tracks.

“Dean?”

Some of you

“Baby? Who is it?” A male voice echoed through the foyer of the front of her house.

Y/N didn’t respond as she tried to register that the only man she ever actually loved was standing before her. She thought he was dead, assuming the mark had taken him away for good.

“I- Uh, I’ll just go.” Dean finally breathed out, deciding it wasn’t worth ruining whatever she had going on.

Before he turned to go, Y/N grabbed his arm, tears forming in her eyes.

“My number is the same. I always hoped you’d call but you never did. Please don’t leave town..”

“I’ll call you darlin.”

Y/N smiled at the pet name. Her current boyfriend would call her that sometimes, it always made her shudder.

For the first time in forever, it felt right. It felt good.

Most of you

Dean sat across from her in the small diner she had told him about. She looked just how he remembered. Her hair framed her face exactly the same way, her lips the same pink he always admired, her eyes held that same sparkle, the one that always reminded him there was still good in the world.

“Y/N, I-I. I’m so sorry..” He began, his voice already betraying him as the tears formed in his eyes.

Her small hands reached out for his, the softness of them contrasting against the scarred skin of his.

“I knew it wasn’t you Dean. I always did.”

He let out a silent sob at her words, thankful they were tucked away in the corner of the diner.

“I still love you, you know? I just thought you were gone.” She breathed out, Dean quickly stood up from the booth, throwing a few bills on the table. He grabbed her hand, leading her outside towards the Impala, not caring about the food they neglected to eat.

I have all of you

Dean’s chest rose and fell as he glanced over at the woman beside him. His hand rested on her bare stomach, his body trying to recover from the hours they just spent relearning every part of each other's bodies.

“What about the guy who was here when I showed up the other day?” He finally questioned, dreading the response she was going to give him.

“Baby, he didn’t matter the moment you showed back up on my doorstep.”

He just smiled at her, his body molding into hers as they fell into another round of pleasure.

This was it, what they always wanted. The apple pie life Dean always deserved, and she couldn’t wait for the road that lied ahead of her with the man she had always loved.

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

Forever Tags:

@thoughts-and-funnies

@stixnstripesworld

@lyarr24

@kazsrm67

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helloalycia · 3 years

Text

The Wrong Lifetime – Eight // Wanda Maximoff

chapter seven | story masterlist | main masterlist | wattpad | chapter nine

author’s note: Y/C/N = your cousin’s name, also this is later than I wanted today but i’ve been super busy so sorry for that! Also, I’ll be responding to comments from the last one as soon as I’m free. Enjoy 😊

"...okay, so now use the water to dilute the colour."

I did as Wanda said, dipping my brush in the glass of water and diluting the watercolour I was using, but I must have used too much because it made the paint run and then the paper started to get too damp to hold together.

Wanda facepalmed, sighing as I smiled sheepishly.

"My bad...?"

She glared playfully before ripping a page from her sketchbook. "Try again, milaya (darling). And use less water this time."

I squinted in the sun as I glanced at her. "Can't you just accept I'm not very good at painting? Or art in general?"

She shook her head, taking the torn page from my grasp and replacing it with a new one. "No way. You're not getting out of it that easily. It's not hard, I promise!"

I groaned lightheartedly. "You said that about drawing. And about using acrylics. And about using chalk."

"And I'm saying it about this, now c'mon, try again," she encouraged with an amused smile before returning to her own painting.

We were sat in my garden, hanging out and making the most of the lovely day we were having. The Spring breeze was getting warmer as we transitioned into Summer and it was a nice change of pace from the usual bad weather we had. So nice that Wanda wanted to do some painting and also teach me how to. But art was never my strong suit and I'm sure she knew that but still proceeded to try anyway.

Sketching out the tree before us for the third time today, I attempted to provide an outline that I could eventually fill in with green watercolours. Unlike Wanda though, it wasn't fun. My eyes veered over to her and I smiled to myself as I admired the look of concentration on her face – her 'art' look, I dubbed it. It was this very specific expression she got whenever she worked on a painting or drawing, and it always reminded me of that first time I saw it, after we met in the stationary store and when she took me back to her room. Absolutely wonderful.

"I don't hear a pencil moving," she said, not looking up but beginning to smile.

"That's because I'm looking for... what did you call it?" I racked my brain, thinking back to the day in the store when she talked about inspiration. "Vdokhoventi?"

A sharp exhale escaped her lips as she finally lifted her gaze to meet mine. Attempting not to laugh, she tilted her head adorably. "Vdokhnoveniye."

I quirked a brow. "Is that not what I said?"

She giggled, shaking her head. "Definitely not."

I grinned, shrugging. "Well, that's what I meant."

She rolled her eyes playfully. "I'm not it, so eyes on your page."

"Oh, how dearly mistaken you are, love," I said quietly, leaning close and giving her a knowing smile.

She looked up, expression softening with a smile. Her eyes were heavenly, pupils dilated as she squinted in the sun, and they flickered to my lips before she settled on nudging me in the shoulder slightly. I snickered, leaning my head on her shoulder since everybody thought we were as close as best friends, so it wouldn't look suspicious. She sighed contently, letting me watch as she moved her paintbrush, painting a flower that was peeking through the grass we were sat on.

I could have stayed there forever, in that moment, sitting with Wanda and watching her paint under the sun. But of course, all good things come to an end when you don't want them to.

"Y/N, dear," I heard my father call, and when I looked up, I saw him approaching Wanda and I from the direction of our house.

Straightening up, I watched as he attempted to sit on the grass, but his legs were too long and he struggled to cross them. With a hearty chuckle, he stretched them out, slightly bent, and leaned on his hands.

"I'm getting too old for this, ladies," he said humorously, making Wanda and I smile.

"What d'you need, dad?" I asked, raising my brows.

"I just wanted to check in and see if you were ready for tonight," he said casually, making me furrow my brows. He seemed to notice my confusion, prompting, "Tonight? Your cousin's birthday party?"

"My cousin's what-now?"

He sighed, massaging the point between his brows. "Y/C/N? They organised this months ago. We're all expected to be there." His glanced to Wanda. "You, too, dear."

Wanda hummed, pulling her gaze from her painting and looking to my dad. "Yes, I'm aware. Got my dress ready and everything."

My eyes snapped to Wanda's with surprise. "You knew about this?!"

"You should be more like her," my dad muttered, as Wanda smiled with a hint of mischief in her eyes.

I looked back to my father. "I was planning on helping Y/B/N with his manuscript tonight."

My dad waved his hand. "I've already talked to him. He's agreed to work on it before the party starts so you're both on time."

I groaned, already tired at the sound of yet another party. Did it ever end?

"Don't be late," he ordered, though his voice was anything but stern. Cue another groan. He smiled before looking to Wanda's painting. "Wow, that's great, dear. Apparently you've got Y/N here attempting to do the same?"

Wanda chuckled as she handed him my several failed attempts. "Key word being 'attempting'."

He accepted the pages and stifled a smile of amusement. "Wow... maybe you should stick to writing, Y/N."

I ripped the pages from his grasp. "Cheers, dad, really."

He laughed before leaning forward and kissing my forehead. "It's all in good faith, dear. Now remember. Don't be late tonight, okay?"

I sighed, which he took as my response, before pushing himself off the grass with a grumble. Dusting his trousers, he nodded to Wanda and I before leaving us be.

"You could've told me I had yet another party to attend tonight," I told Wanda with narrowed eyes.

She shrugged, smiling helplessly. "I thought you knew."

I laid back on the grass with a dramatic sigh. "I just don't understand why our life revolves around extravagant parties, balls and dinners."

"That's just how it is, moya lyubov' (my love)," she said with a warm smile.

I looked up at the sky, raising my hand to shield the sun from my eyes, though my heart fluttered at one of the many nicknames she called me in Russian. "I'd rather live in the middle of nowhere. Where nobody expects anything of me and there's no stupid parties to attend."

She rested a hand on my leg before laying beside me, leaning her head on my shoulder. I relaxed my head on hers, appreciating how well we fit together.

"Same here," she agreed, making me gasp playfully.

"What? Don't you love the glitz and glamour?"

She laughed quietly. "I do, but I like the peace and quiet more."

I breathed out, fingertips brushing hers. "Maybe I can be a little late tonight... accidentally run over time so I don't have to stay as long."

Her fingers tugged on mine between us as a warning. "No. I'll be left alone and I'll be bored. And when I'm bored, I drink."

It was my turn to laugh. "You won't be alone, Wanda. You'll have Pietro."

She shifted so she was no longer leaning on my shoulder but instead tilting her head to look my way. "I want you."

I turned my head and gave her a small, promising smile. "I'll try to be on time."

She quirked a brow. "Try? You will."

My eyes flittered away, ready to argue otherwise, but she sat up and grabbed her paintbrush. I sat up, too, ready to tell her I would try, but I flinched when she flicked water towards me from the tip of it.

"Are you serious?" I asked, wiping the water from my eyelids with tongue-in-cheek.

She chuckled and I grabbed my paintbrush and did the same, watching her squirm when it flicked on her face.

Suppressed smile on her face, she wiped away the water and glared with dazzling eyes. "You shouldn't start what you can't finish, milaya (darling)."

Smiling from ear to ear, I quirked a brow devilishly. "Oh?"

"You're so lucky we're in front of people," she said lowly, leaning close enough to be platonic, but her hand slipped under my dress and creeped up my leg, making me involuntarily shiver. "Or you would be in serious trouble."

I stopped her hand from going any higher, the rings on her fingers cold enough for me to not melt under her touch. "I highly doubt that, love."

She held my gaze, intoxicating and mesmerising all at once. A sly smile tugged at her lips as she said, "Don't test me then. You heard your father. Don't be late."

I exhaled, licking my lips. "Fine. I won't be."

—

Later that afternoon, I found myself sat in my brother's study as the two of us worked on his latest manuscript together. It was a love story, his (my) specialty, and I was helping him to sort out his sentence structure when he decided to question me.

"Will you entertain me for a moment?" he asked randomly, making me look up from the pages.

"I'll probably regret it, but go on," I said jokingly, before looking back down and adding some notes to the paper.

His chair creaked as he leaned back, eyes watching me thoughtfully. "Are you in a secret relationship?"

I almost choked on my spit as he asked this, heart dropping to my stomach with panic. He couldn't know about Wanda, right? We'd been so careful.

Thankfully, I played it off well as I merely glanced his way before distracting myself with note-taking.

"Why would you think that, Y/B/N?" I asked like he was insane.

He shrugged in my peripheral. "I don't know... I've been wondering for a while. You've just loosened up so much more. And you're not as uptight as you usually are."

"Cheers," I said sarcastically.

He leaned forward, head resting in his palm. "This all happened right about the time I met Wanda..."

I swallowed hard, quirking a brow at him to play down my panic.

"I saw you with Pietro the other week," he continued, and I could finally breathe when I realised what he was insinuating. "I'm happy if you're happy, Y/N, but I'm not a fan of you sleeping with my publisher."

At that thought, I shuddered and proceeded to shove Y/B/N on the arm. "Don't say that. And I would never."

Just your fiancé, I thought guiltily.

"Good," he said with relief, straightening up. "Because you're not supposed to do that until you get married."

I rolled my eyes dismissively in response, but wondered if that still applied in a world where one was not allowed to marry the person they loved.

Y/B/N gave me a reassuring glance. "Look, I'm okay with it, I guess. But I'd appreciate the heads up so I can give him a stern talking to."

Realising there was a hint of mirth in his voice, I looked up and gave him a warning look. "Don't you dare."

He laughed, patting me on the back, to which I shrugged off with annoyance.

"It's the Maximoff charm," he commented knowingly. "The twins have that effect on people, don't they? Wanda sure has it on me."

A short silence fell after he said that and I chewed on my lip curiously, unable to stop myself from speaking until it was too late.

"Is her love reciprocated?"

He looked down to me from his daydream, no doubt of Wanda. "Pardon?"

Knowing there was no backing down from the conversation now, I avoided his eyes. "The engagement between you both was arranged... you're clearly in love with her, but is it returned?"

His lips twitched into a frown. "I'd hope so."

I hummed, diverting my attention away from him and to the pen in my hand.

"Why? Did she say something?" he asked, voice laden with worry.

"Of course not," I reassured him.

"But you'd tell me if she did?" he asked eagerly.

I looked his way and saw him peering down at me, hanging onto my response. I nodded lamely, which seemed to put him at ease as he sank into his chair with relief.

We spent the next few hours working on the manuscript without a hitch, but I noticed the time and realised the party was already in full swing. Wanda's words came to mind and I hoped she wouldn't be too annoyed at my lateness.

"We're wrapping it up now, don't worry," Y/B/N said, noticing me check the clock. "Thanks for the help. I'm gonna get this to my editor tomorrow. Your amendments should help make the process go a lot smoothly."

I hummed in response, feeling a heaviness settle on my shoulders as he mentioned his editor. It was always the same routine – I helped him with his manuscript, he got it edited, got his book published and got all the credit. And I was stuck in the same position, wishing I could do the same.

"What is it?" he asked with a sigh, sensing my mood.

Playing with the corner of the manuscript, I met his gaze. "I help you with your writing, but I never get anything from it."

"You get to help me," he pointed out, not seeing the issue. "Isn't that enough?"

Pietro's offer came to mind as I said, "What if I wrote my own book? And got published with my name on the cover?"

He squinted as he studied me, trying to find the humour in my words. Letting out a laugh, he shook his head.

"Y/N, that's absurd."

I raised my eyebrows hopefully. "I mean, is it? Would that be so bad?"

He pressed his lips together and breathed out through his nose. Resting a hand on my shoulder, he gave me a condescending look.

"I'm saying this because I care," he said, making me feel like crap. "But yes."

As if I didn't already know the answer, I asked, "Why?"

He motioned with his hand like it was obvious. "Because. People would look at you differently. You'd be undesirable. You know men don't like smart women. I'm just looking out for you as your brother."

I looked away, the bitterness at his words stinging more than usual. "Well, I like smart women."

Thinking I was joking, he chuckled. "Don't go saying things like that. One might misinterpret."

My teeth pressed into my lower lip hard, trying to contain my frustration.

"You can do this every now and then," he said, referring to the manuscript, "but any more isn't possible. Besides, two authors in one family? That's insane."

I forced a smile, but I wondered if his last comment was the real reason he wouldn't let me at least try to get published.

"Anyway, never mind that," he said indifferently. "We should probably head out. Dad is not going to be pleased. Especially since I promised we wouldn't be late."

I nodded, sliding my chair out and wanting to be anywhere but here right now. "Yeah, come on."

He gave me a sneaky smile. "Can't wait to see Pietro?"

I slapped him on the arm before standing up, ignoring his laughter. Nothing to make an already-depressing night worse than going to a party you didn't care for.

—

Wanda Maximoff was a very difficult drunk to be around, I'd learnt that the hard way.

As soon as Y/B/N and I rolled up to my cousin's house, a third of the guests were drunk and the rest were tipsy. A typical Y/L/N get-together. Y/B/N was instantly dragged away by some family whilst I was quick to make myself scarce, attempting to find Wanda. But the place was bustling with people and there were way too many rooms to check.

I found Pietro before I found his twin, as he was poking around party favours on a table in the corner, attempting to make out what were in the bags.

"If you're expecting a brand new fountain pen, you won't find it in there," I teased, making him jump.

He sighed when he looked my way, realising it was me. "I know that. But there's nothing better here to do, so I may as well know what freebies we'll be getting by the end of it."

I smirked. "Anything good?"

He shrugged, seeming disappointed. "Just some chocolate and perfume samples."

Holding back a smile, I said, "How tragic."

"If you're looking for my sister, she's over there," he said, nodding behind me. "You'll love this one."

"What do you mean?" I asked, brows knitted with confusion, before turning around and following his gaze.

Wanda was indeed stood on the other side of the dining room and I could just about make her out between idle guests. She was chatting to some woman, hands moving erratically and with expression, a grin on her lips.

"What is she doing?" I asked unsurely, tearing my eyes from her and looking to Pietro.

He was withholding laughter as he answered, "Sometimes, dear Y/N, my beloved twin sister gets drunk when she's–"

"Bored," I finished, remembering what she told me this morning. My face dropped as I mumbled, "Uh-oh."

"Uh-oh indeed," Pietro said, grinning at his sister's dismay. "Drunk Wanda is a very truthful Wanda. So, any secrets of hers will most definitely be revealed tonight."

Pietro was too caught up in his own amusement to notice my eyes widening.

"One of our servants made me a platter a few years ago," Pietro explained, oblivious to my panic. "It was a delicious cheese platter, the cheese having been imported from France. Then, Wanda proceeded to eat it without telling me. When I asked if she did, she lied. And I only discovered she lied because she got drunk a few weeks later and bragged about how good the cheese was."

Continuing to ramble, though this time in Russian, Pietro complained about said incident, though I wasn't listening as I watched Wanda talk to the woman enthusiastically. I could only imagine what secrets she was sharing.

"Pietro!" I cut him off, earning his attention. "Shouldn't you do something? To stop Wanda?"

The cheese platter story long forgotten, his grin reappeared on his lips. "Nah, it's funny watching her make a fool of herself."

I gave him a look of disbelief before looking back to Wanda, who was laughing at something by herself. The woman she was speaking to seemed partially confused, but smiled to be polite. I gulped, before shaking my head.

"I'm not that mean," I said to Pietro before making a move to stop her.

Pietro booed me playfully, but I ignored him and approached the drunk brunette, managing to catch her conversation.

"–and they're usually such catty bitch–"

"Wanda!" I immediately cut her off, bumping into her side slightly to get her attention. "There you are!"

Green eyes widened with excitement as they met mine. "Y/N! You're here!"

Ignoring her, I wrapped an arm around her shoulder and tugged her close before looking to the guest she was talking with.

"My apologies for her behaviour," I said with an awkward smile, hoping Wanda hadn't revealed anything suspicious.

"No need to apologise, dear," the woman said with an amused smile. "Wanda here was telling me all about how lovely of a sister-in-law you are. Or will be."

Wanda grinned, looking to me and leaning in so close that her nose brushed my cheek. "Yeah, she is," she continued to the woman, though her eyes were on mine. "She's sweet, not like other people make out their sister-in-laws to be."

My face was warm as I cleared my throat and smiled once more to the woman. "If you'll excuse Wanda and I."

The woman barely got out a nod before I dragged Wanda away, trying to keep her lips away from my neck (she was also an extremely clingy drunk). Tugging her into the bathroom down the hall, I closed the door behind us and released a breath of relief, grateful for the escape from guests.

"You look very sexy when you're worried," Wanda complimented, stepping forward and smiling dazedly.

"Wanda–"

She placed her hand on my jaw, moving closer so that her lips were grazing mine as she mumbled, "You came late, milaya (darling). But I still love you."

I'd like to say that I had the willpower to push her away and scold her for acting so obvious about us before, but my lips went numb as she captured them between hers. I could taste the alcohol on her lips as she moved them against mine, making me dizzy and forgetting what I was going to say. Her thumb caressed my jaw and I relaxed under her touch, hands resting on her chest. When she tried to part my lips with her tongue, I seemed to come to my senses.

"Wanda, you're drunk," I muttered, pushing her back gently.

She chased down my mouth again, sucking on my lip and tilting my head back so she could have better access. I tried not to let her win as I kissed her briefly before pulling away. Clouded hazel eyes met mine with a matching smirk.

"You're such a tease," she whispered, her accent thicker than usual and making my stomach flip uncontrollably. Her thumb traced my lips as she continued, "You shouldn't do that when I already know how you taste, moya lyubov' (my love)."

The way she was staring at me made me flustered in place, and she seemed to notice her effect on me as she winked my way.

Shaking my head and trying not to let her win, I said, "Look, Wanda. I'm sorry for being late. But did you really have to get drunk?"

She shrugged, leaning her weight on my shoulder with her hand. "If you hadn't kept me waiting, then I wouldn't have."

I sighed, looking to her apologetically. "I didn't realise the time."

A permanent troublesome smile was fixed on her lips as she watched me.

"Your brother told me how you can be when you get drunk," I said with mild concern, hoping she'd register my seriousness. "You need to be careful, Wanda. We can't have people finding out about us."

"It seems to me," she began agonisingly slowly, lacing her arms around my shoulders, "that you'll have to watch me all night to make sure I don't do anything out of line."

Determined not to play into her teasing, I maintained her gaze with a stern stare. "It seems I'll have to."

She bit her lip, eyes flickering between mine, before leaning further into my ear. In a whispered voice, she said, "That means you can't leave my side, printsessa (princess)."

I clenched my jaw, ready to agree, but a gasp escaped my lips as hers sucked on my earlobe, teeth nibbling on the sensitive skin. Stupid Wanda and her stupid flirting and stupid attractiveness.

"Wanda!" I scolded, though my cheeks were flushed as I pushed her away gently.

She laughed adorably, the sound making my heart skip a beat. "What?"

"You have to behave," I told her, swallowing hard and trying not to let her teasing smile get to me. "You can't do this out there. Okay?"

"Okay," she agreed in a way that wasn't reassuring in the slightest.

I rolled my eyes before grabbing her hand and leading her back outside the bathroom, returning to the party. I wasn't planning on leaving her side for the rest of the evening, even if Y/B/N wanted to be with her. The last thing I wanted was for her cute drunken self to reveal something she couldn't take back.

To my relief, she kind of behaved after that. There were times when she would get a little too touchy to be platonic, but a quick stare set her straight. Y/B/N wasn't around much, as when he did join us, he was immediately pulled away by some family friends who wanted to discuss his books. For once, I was glad he was an author, afraid of what would happen if Wanda got too comfortable in his presence.

At one point though, he was able to join Wanda, Pietro and I at a standing table, relief flooding his expression when nobody called after him. His arm wrapped around Wanda's waist and he kissed the top of her head, making me look the other way with distaste. She scrunched her nose up at the action before distracting herself with a drink. I gave her a knowing look, having told her earlier to stop with the alcohol. She pretended not to see me.

"Sorry I've not been able to spend time with you tonight," he said to Wanda, oblivious to her tipsy state.

"It's almost like it's your birthday and not your cousin's," Pietro joked, smiling at him.

My brother chuckled. "I guess. They just all wanna talk about my manuscript."

"Ah, yes, the reason you were late, right?" Wanda asked, eyes falling to mine.

"I'm sorry," my brother apologised, assuming it was him she was speaking to.

"You were helping him, too, right?" Pietro asked, looking to me curiously. "Maybe I'll finally get a glance at your work."

I narrowed my eyes at him, having figured he'd put the subject to rest after last time. He merely grinned in response, finding joy in messing with me, just like his sister. Before I could say anything, my brother beat me to it.

"Don't be getting any ideas. It's just a hobby." He smiled forcefully, before glancing at me. "Isn't it, Y/N?"

So he was jealous. Wow.

"You don't need to hide your relationship, y'know," he continued when I didn't respond, looking to Pietro.

The silver-haired publisher choked on his drink as he looked to my brother, clearly very amused.

"I know you're together," Y/B/N said with agitation. "Everybody does. And don't get me wrong, Pietro, I respect you as a publisher."

I groaned quietly, closing my eyes with embarrassment. When I opened them, Pietro was watching my brother with an entertained smile, meanwhile, Wanda was looking between them with a twitching frown.

"But if you're going to date my sister, you should do it the right way," my brother continued stupidly. "It's not appropriate to have whatever this is." He motioned between us with his hands. "It's wrong."

I jumped when Wanda's hand slipped to my arse, squeezing it gently. Thankfully, our backs were to a wall so nobody would have noticed behind us, but I instantly glared at her and removed her hand. She gave me a cunning smile, not bothered by the consequences.

"...and if you're sleeping together like I suspect," Y/B/N was saying, making me flush with humiliation, "know that our friendship is at breaking point. I can't have that blatant disrespect in my life."

Wanda continued to attempt to grab my arse, making me slap her hand away several times, all whilst trying to manage whatever conversation was happening right now.

"I can't believe you just said that," I finally spoke up, managing to keep Wanda at bay long enough. "You're such an idiot, Y/B/N! I told you I wasn't with Pietro!"

Pietro tried not to laugh as he met my brother's intimidating stare. "I value our friendship, too, Y/B/N. Which is why I can promise you I have no... relations... with your sister. I don't like her like that, I can assure you."

Wanda snorted with amusement, before hiding behind a glass of wine when everyone looked her way.

Y/B/N seemed embarrassed as he cleared his throat. "Oh."

I rolled my eyes. "Yes, oh!"

"I guess I should apologise," he said awkwardly, looking to Pietro. "I–"

"No apology necessary," Pietro cut him off, raising a hand. "I am thankful for the entertainment however."

"I'm gonna go literally anywhere else," I dismissed myself, unable to take the uncomfortable situation any longer.

Without waiting for a response, I turned on my heel and walked away. To my surprise, Wanda trailed after, falling into step with me.

I glanced at her unhappily, quirking a brow. "Can I help you?"

"Oh, don't be mad at me because your brother's an idiot," she said with a wag of her hand.

I gave her a suggestive look. "I told you to behave."

She pressed her lips together in a sheepish smile. "I'm sorry... Y/B/N was talking about you and Pietro and I– well, I don't like sharing, remember?"

The improper glint in her eye as she stopped before me, watching with amusement, made me feel warm all of a sudden. That day when she first told me that and we proceeded to make love flashed to mind, and she seemed to know as she had a mischievous look on her face.

Clearing my throat, I pointed a finger her way. "Behave."

I should have known by the devilish look in her eyes that she wouldn't.

#wanda maximoff au #wanda maximoff x you #wanda maximoff x reader #wanda maximoff #elizabeth olsen x you #elizabeth olsen x reader #elizabeth olsen #elizabeth olsen imagine #marvel #mcu #scarlet witch #scarlet witch imagine

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tokoyamisstuff · 3 years

Text

Tender Ch. 1 - Loki x Mute! Reader

Summary: Even though Loki doesn’t understand why the new member of the Avengers should be kind to him of all people, he doesn’t want you to stop either.

Warnings: Loki being depressed, the Avengers being kinda mean, mentions of Torture and Death

Words: ~2100

[Story Masterlist] [All of my Works]

All eyes were on him again.

As soon as Loki would step inside, the previously lively room would fall completely silent. Well, it’s not like he wasn’t used to being the involuntary kill-joy...

Usually, the God of Mischief craved attention, may it be positive or negative - most of the time being the latter. But lately, after months of having all those distrustful and hostile glares piercing holes into him, he’d rather wish for the ground to swallow him whole.

“Umm, so...I gotta go.” Natasha was the first one to flee the unpleasant atmosphere, not even putting the energy into mutter anything else than a cheap excuse on her way out. Clint wordlessly followed her close after, but not without shooting the Odinson one last, spiteful look.

Loki on the other hand was picking on his hands, a nervous habit he had inherited from his mother. As much as he tried to avoid meeting their eyes, the tensioned aura they were emitting making him feel close to breaking down completely - but he would never give them the satisfaction to witness this, he swore to himself.

And yet: Maybe he should just leave. Disappear, forever.

Although he’d never admit, Loki had grown very tired of his life following this stirr path, unable to diverge into a new direction. Everything he did would ultimately bring death and destruction upon mankind, inflicting fear in the hearts of all people.

His whole existence was based on being condemned to fail - just for others to reach their ‘glorius purpose’.

“Great” Tony scoffed. “Now they’re gone. Well done, prince of nothing.” Steve cut his friend off, clearing his throat very exaggeratedly.

The god still hadn’t moved from the doorframe of the conference room, while all others were already sitting on the oval-shaped table. He didn’t got what all that fuss was about. If Steve didn’t insist him to attend this emergency meeting, he’d just have gone about his usual business and avoided everyone as good as he could.

“C’mon, brother” Thor sighed, well knowing that if his brother was to stay in the team, it would ultimatively drive a wedge between them. All that pressure in the air was straining for everyone, including himself.

Tony on the other hand was pretty chill about everything, aside of being passive-aggressive. This was probably due to their similar coping styles.

Even though his near-death-experience back when he stopped the Chitauri was still eating on his mental health, he’d prefer glossing over it with stupid jokes and overly confident behaviour. “No sassy remark today, Reindeer Games?”

Stark was leaning back in his chair, arms crossed as he rose an eyebrow on the god, who only muttered a hoarse “No...not today.”

Yeah, it was kind of his style to break the unsettling silence through puny comments or self-glorifying speeches, to distract from his own insecurity.

But right now, he was just so damn tired.

Of this planet and it’s people, as well as the humiliating circumstances he had to dwell in. The fact that he was a prisoner at the Stark Tower, amongst his worst enemies. Being forced by his brother to keep up this meaningless act, as if he’d ever be seen as a team member or ally - when in reality, he was but a slave to the people he once ought to reign.

Just like back on Asgard: Never one of them, never belonging. No way to break free - for his true self was something to be loathed.

However, first and foremost the one thing he was especially tired of was himself, for he couldn’t get out of his own skin. Not only could he never be considered a hero, let alone be redeemed.

After all the atrocities he had commited due to Thanos’ torture and the tesseract’s influence, now that he woke up from that naive dream of power stilling the emptiness in his dark heart, there was nothing left for him - other than to be haunted by his crimes until the mercy of death would overcome him.

“Well” Steve began, slamming his palms on the desk to attract everyone’s attention. “As you all know, we are welcoming a new team member today.”

“They all know?” Of course they wouldn’t let him in on such sensitive information. Not that he minded either way - one Avenger more or less, it didn’t matter how many people hated him in here.

“Please, come on in.”

Loki cleared the entrance when he heared Tony’s words, turning around in anticipation of another dull creature like the Hulk to torment him - but his calm demeanour dropped completely at this unusual sight:

“Y-You?!”

That was simply not possible! The last time he had seen you was almost a year ago, and you were on the brink of death at that!

“For everyone that doesn’t know yet: Her name is Y/N Y/L/N. She is one of the victims HYDRA experimented on, and they succeeded in forming an artificial mutant.”

Steve went on and on explaining about your powers, but Loki’s head had already turned on autopilot, the only thing he could concentrate on being how the hell you of all people ended up here.

All these months, he was desperately trying to get any information about you, all of his hints ultimately leading him to dead ends - and in the end, tragically believing in your imminent death.

The memories were still painfully vivid in his mind: It was his first mission together with the Avengers, at a HYDRA hideout with most likely no civil survivors.

Actually, he had planned to make his escape right when the others engaged in a fight, wandering the hallways of what resembled a torture chamber rather than a laboratory.

On the walls were several instructions, about a serum that might cause a human to mutate if they were exposed to unbearable stress - pain being the most effective method, apparently.

Yet instead of finding anything useful for his personal gain, he found you: A beautiful woman, yet emaciated and lying in a puddle of her own blood. At first he thought you to be dead just like the others - but as soon as your faint whimpers drang to his ears, he burst the cell you were trapped in open, rushing to your side immediately.

“Shh...” the god scooped you up from the cold stone floor, wrapping his cloak around your broken body. “Everything is alright now. Your savior is here.”

Loki gasped as he felt your hand stroking his cheekbone, even through all your pain and weakness wanting to bid your hero this due respect.

“Hel...you humans are such fragile creatures...” Loki muttered under his breath, cursing his own lack of talent when it came to casting healing spells. “Hang in there, look at me!”

Your eyes were teary and bloodshot, yet not less fit to bring across a message no words ever could: Incredible gratitude, and admiration.

He could tell you were close to passing out when your hand left his face, falling limp to the side. But he held you firmly in his arms, not once stopping to utter sweet words of encouragement as he made his way to the ship, leading you into safety.

“Your world in the balance, and you bargain for one man?”

Those were the words he once directed at Black Widow - but only now he understood her attempts.

Saving one person could never make up for all the lives he had destroyed - and yet he knew that for you, it would mean the world none the less.

In one way or another, with your life at his mercy, he began to finally grasp the preciousness of life, and doing everything in one’s might to protect it.

“Reindeer Games” Tony tapped on his shoulders, making Loki wake from his pondering. “I’d appreciate if you didn’t scare her away on the first day already.”

Oh.

Just now he was noticing his own grim expression, having towered over your much smaller form this whole time with furrowed brows.

“My apologies” was his firm response, but you only shook your head, trying to tell him it was not a big deal.

So this was what you looked like when you’re not imprisoned, he realized when he took in your physique.

Much to his pleasure, all of your wounds had seemingly healed, and you finally gained some much needed weight. Like this, you looked so much more healthier - and most definetly even more bewitching than he remembered you.

If people had let him know, would he have visited your sickbed, aiding you towards health again? Who knows...

Yet somehow, he dwelled in the thought of you being able to lead a happy life now that you were free - which made your decision to seek out the Avengers in wish for more battles even harder for him to accept.

“You are incredibly strong, Lady Y/N” Loki spoke firmly, everyone else rolling their eyes at his usual exaggeration - but you knew he meant every word. “Be sure of my eternal respect.”

The God of Lies’ eyes widened in excitement when you directed a warm smile at him, knowing for sure that this one was genuine. It wasn’t like those fake smirks the other Avengers gave him out of politeness, or the mocking laughs when they were making fun of or excluding him.

No - that one was just pure affection. And it left him in awe.

“Thank you for saving me back then” you signed, just for Loki shooting you a puzzled look.

“What, I thought the all-tongue knows every language?” Tony yelled, as inconsiderate as always. Thor was quick to explain on his brother’s stead, him still being deeply invested with you. “Every spoken one, yes. ASL is not one of our fortes.”

Usually, Loki had always been a quick thinker. But right now he was to bewildered by your appearance that thinking straight was out of the question.

What language were they speaking of? And why have you not been saying anything up until now? Maybe his presence was making you uncomfortable, after all? Should he leave on your behalf?

To make it easier for him to understand, you rolled down your turtleneck, revealing the unsighty scar that covered your whole throat.

There were not many people bold enough to come close to the God of Mischief without warning, yet suddenly you simply took his hand and slowly led it to your neck.

How could you be so naive and offer someone like him such a vital spot?! He’ll never get the human philosophy...

And yet, the flabbergasted god hesistantly let his hand run over the scar, while you opened your mouth to no avail - for 11 months already, no tone would leave your vocal cords.

“I’m incredibly sorry...” Loki whispered with a sorrowful tone, while the others just stared in disbelief. “If only I was able to heal this wound back then...”

What a puny god he was...and an even more pathetic wanna-be-hero at that...

He would try to take a few steps back, but you took a hold of his hand, squeezing it with both of yours, that cheerful smile not faltering in the slightest.

“Please, don’t be sad. I’m only alive thanks to you!” Bucky, whose cousin was mute as well, translated what you were signing for Loki. His tone sounded quite irritated, not fitting those meaningful words. “I only wanted to join the Avengers because I want to be just like you. You’re my idol!”

Those words touched him deeply, igniting a flame inside of him he thought long to be defunct. Was it hope?

Of course it was not nearly enough to pull him out of that deep, dark hole he felt trapped in for as long as he could remember - yet somehow, he now felt that it was not impossible to escape.

While the others were cringing at your declaration, making jokes about ‘choosing wrong idols’ or would plainly not believe Loki to have a positive effect on anyone, the two of you would just stare at each other in silent admiration.

Shyly, you signed yet another word for him - and this time, Loki would know what you mean from pure intuition.

He smiled.

For the first time in what felt like forever, Loki was able to smile again, just thanks to your heartwarming welcome. And he was still blissfully unaware about what effect you could have on him, if he was brave enough to let you close.

One thing was sure: You literally had him wrapped around his finger from the very start.

#Loki #Loki x Reader #Loki x You #Loki Odinson #Loki Laufeyson #Loki Friggason #Oneshot #Self Insert #Marvel #Disney #Fluff #Fem! Reader #God of Mischief #Loki / Reader

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bonniebird · 4 years

Text

If you asked nicely

Reader x Mikaelsons

Requested by Anon

When you had fallen asleep Elijah had been neatly sat in one of the chairs in the corner of your room. He was softly reading some old book you’d never heard of. He had come in the angry wake of Klaus.

To his credit Klaus had tried for a day to coax you out of bed, soothing and fussing. He wouldn’t listen when you exclaimed you just want to be left alone for a day. To sleep until you roused only from your body being incapable of sleeping any longer. He had relented when he realised nothing he did would get you up. Not daring to move lest you catch the attention of one of your predatory protectors you stayed still. Hoping for more sleep. You just felt more tired now.

Something twitched the edge of your duvet and before you could decide between snapping your eyes shut and feigning sleep or glaring down whoever dared to disturb you and a new face peaked at you. “Hello Darling!” Kol said cheerfully. He smiled, shoving himself partly under the duvet and looked around as if he was appraising your docile cave. “I thought it sounded like you were awake. Elijah said not to disturb you. Apparently you gave Klaus quite the hard time.”

Amusement played with his face as he watched you. He received a frown. Not one of anger but more one you’d get if you suddenly roused someone with something delightful. You sighed, frowned and turned your head so you wouldn't have to look at him but by the time you’d done it, he’d rounded the bed and tucked his head under the duvet on the other side.

“Come on now love, don’t be like this! You’re no fun when you’re sleepy.” Kol teased before raising his eyebrows and adding. “I suppose it’s best you got Elijah helping you sleep last night, when Klaus helps you sleep… it’s a pain.” He smiled and rubbed his chest, wincing. You tried not to laugh knowing he was joking about the daggers. When he got a snicker out of you he beamed with delight.

“Kol! Brother are you pestering (Y/N)?” Elijah called from somewhere. Fake panic took over Kol’s face as he froze and leant up. Tugging the duvet up with him, letting a fresh breeze brush at your skin.

“How could you say such a thing brother! I do not pester… I seduce and intrigue, some think I’m a delight!” As he spoke he playfully wiggled his eyebrows and smirked. His eyes lit up as he heard the bubble of laughter you’d been holding onto escaped, bursting past your lips in peels of laughter that had you tearfully rolling in your bed in a fit of giggles.

“Yes! I did it!” Kol cheered, throwing his hands up victoriously. He cheered to himself, your duvet helplessly flopped across the room, making a last ditch attempt to cling to you as it defeatedly slipped to the floor.

“You didn't do anything!” You said through giggles the laughter ebbing away.

“Hey if you didn’t get out from under that blanket they were going to send in Rebekah.

“She would have just joined me and said it was a girl thing.” You pointed out knowingly. Kol gave you an agreeing nod as he sat on the edge of the bed.

“So what now, you’re free of that.” He said cast a gesture to your piled duvet on the floor. “Elijah is making enough food to kill a man. Honestly there isn’t any space in the kitchen. Klaus has been painting pictures for you since yesterday and Rebekah was gathering supplies so you two could take to the bed in an appropriately aesthetic manner.” He mimicked Rebekah’s voice for the last few words and you giggled again.

“Food sounds nice. I should probably shower though.” You said as you sighed.

He hopped up and your eyes widened when he started to undress. “Right let's get in the shower.” He said until he caught your eyes. He flashed you a smile and paused.

“I need a shower… not you!” You said quickly, finally sitting up and trying to tame your hair a little. “I might need a shower! You don’t know where I’ve been!”

“I suppose that’s true.” You mused. He watched your brow furrow as if you were mulling over where he could have been that day. Your attention was snatched back when you moved in a blur. You were whizzed past Elijah who dropped his plate he’d brought up for you. Though you were sure Kol had knocked it out of his hand on purpose.

“Brother!” He snapped sharply.

“Brother?” Kol answered in a tone that would definitely rile Elijah. Kol focused on fixing the water in the shower which made Elijah rap on the door several times.

He gestured for you to get into the water but you frowned at him. “Aren’t you going to leave?” You asked and he shrugged.

“If you’d like. I thought I’d help you wash your hair.” He paused and rolled his eyes. “It was something that was done as… a show of affection. Elijah’s still right there and I’ll keep my underwear on!” He gestured to his boxers and then to the door. “Elijah?”

“Yes Kol.” Elijah said in an unamused tone. You tried to hold back another laugh at the sound of his voice.

“See, a perfectly friendly shower.” Kol said giving you his best innocent look that gave a more dubious expression.

“What’ll I wear?” you pointed out and he shrugged.

“I won’t look at you if you like. But I’m a thousand or so. I’ve seen a lot.” he said as he stuck his hand under the running water, satisfied it was a good enough temperature he stepped in.

“You’ve seen a lot or you’ve seen a lot of naked people?” You asked curiously as you decided to undress. It would be nice to have someone do your hair for a change.

“Both?” Kol said as he, to his word, closed his eyes until you’d gotten in. “Women did find me rather irresistible back in the day.” He said as he brushed his fingers through your hair until it was damp enough to add the shampoo.

“Back in the day?”

“Well, I got a bit out of swing when I spent a few hundred years in a box, not much room for seduction in a coffin.”

He chuckled when you spluttered out a laugh as if his comment had caught you off guard. Kol’s fingers were soft and gentle. More gentle than you’d thought a vampire capable of. If you weren’t quite so intimidated by his near nudity you would have been lulled into relaxation, so much so that you could have leant against him and closed your eyes.

The shampoo smelled different and glancing at the bottle Kol had set on the shower shelf you realised it was a brand new bottle, an expensive looking brand that you hadn’t heard off before. You assumed it would have either been from Elijah or sent over by Rebekah.

For a while there was silence as Kol massaged the suds into your roots and rinsed it out, continuing to massage your scalp and neck. “You know. Affection really is wasted on modern humans.” Kol said thoughtfully as he reached for a second bottle. “The fun that could be had if you all let go just a little.”

“If every human let go we’d all be like Elena. Vampire lovers on rotation.” You said quietly. His hands stilled for a moment as he raised his eyebrows. When you glanced over your shoulder at him he chuckled.

“Careful darling. Glass houses and all that.” He said playfully as he rinsed the final suds out of your hair. “You could have four Mikaelson if you asked nicely.”

He grinned when you elbowed him gently and spluttered a little. With the gentlest brush of a kiss to your shoulder he got out of the shower, leaving to finish your shower as he deliberately dripped as much water on the floor as he could. He cracked the door open and snatched the towels that Elijah was holding out for him. He could see Klaus lurking behind Elijah and grinned. He didn’t envy Elijah for having to deal with Klaus’ grumpy mood.

“Come on then darling, you must be starved.” Kol hummed out as he unfolded teh warm, fluffy towel. It was definitely one from the Mikaelson's home. It was massive enough for you to step into it and have it wrapped around you at least twice.

When Elijah saw the state of the bathroom he sighed and glared at a gleeful Kol who bowed mockingly. Klaus bickered with Kol as you were escorted to your bedroom which had been tidied and your bed made with fresh sheets. Rebekah was sprawled over them with a pile of new pajamas beside her. “Off you go now!” She insisted once Kol was near the doorway. Both he and Klaus found the door slammed in their faces as she took a turn at fussing you. She fixed your hair and produced so many creams and powders and moisturisers your small desk was almost completely covered in little bottles. Once she was satisfied she’d fussed you enough you were relinquished into Elijah’s care to be escorted to your kitchen. You noticed everywhere was a lot cleaner and suddenly all the odd jobs that needed doing were done.

“You didn’t all have to make a fuss.” You said quietly to Elijah who smiled.

“Nonsense.” He muttered back with an endeared affection.

Kol hadn’t been kidding about the amount of food in your kitchen. Even if you invited the gang round there would be too much for you all to eat. You gave Elijah a grateful smile as he pulled out your chair and helped you sit. He must have been worried to cook so much. You hadn’t meant to worry them. You’d just felt so exhausted by everything going on in Mystic falls.

As you sat you noticed sweet paintings of plants and flowers adorned your kitchen walls. Klaus’ touch there was no doubt and you smiled as you looked at them. “Rebekah said renovating the kitchen was a bit much. So I settled for decorating.” Klaus said as he took a seat beside you. He admired the way you appreciated his work.

“Thank you. All of you. I feel much better.” you said with a smile. The stress of the chaos going on had ebbed enough for you to feel energized again. The Mikaelsons had gathered in the kitchen and all smiled as you beamed for them.

“Well, I have to apologise. If I had known looking at my beautiful face would be the thing to get you out of bed after a few days. I would have arrived earlier.” Kol said. You shared a daring look together as Rebekah groaned and helped herself to some food. Elijah rolled his eyes and tutted while Klaus growled quietly from beside you. Trying to hide a laugh you opted to stuff your mouth full with the food that had been carefully set before you.

#kol mikaelson #kol mikaelson x reader #klaus mikaelson x reader #elijah mikealson x reader #bonniebird #rebekah mikaelson x reader #the originals

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5raysofsunshine · 3 years

Text

Just Say Yes - Penemily x reader fluff (platonic)

Description: Penelope and Emily comfort you after a break up. 💔

Rating: G. I don’t think there’s even any cursing in this lol.

Wrote this to be a bit cathartic but I hope you enjoy it!

This is my 2nd fic I’ve ever posted but don’t worry friends there are going to be plenty more coming your way! I’m making this the first fic I post for @sweetprentiss’s Emily Prentiss Birthday Bingo challenge (yes I know it’s not romantic/definitively sapphic BUT if I do a part two it will be more noticeable I promise 😊)! Plus I’m hoping to complete as many fics for this challenge as I possibly can because Emily deserves 💕ALL THE LOVE💕, so be on the look out for more emily prentiss fics coming your way!

Big thanks to my amazing friends iv 🍭 @sweetprentiss and ari 🧸 @imaslutforemilyprentiss for helping me out by encouraging and supporting me and reading this thing before I posted it lol. I love and appreciate you guys so much! 🥰🥰🥰

---

As you pull open one of the double doors of the BAU entrance, you can't help but notice that the glass door seems a bit heavier this morning. Probably due to the fact that your body feels weak from running on only 3 hours of sleep. You were tossing and turning all night, your mind wouldn't stop racing.

You had spent a good part of your evening breaking up with your significant other. It was a conversation you had wanted to happen for a while, but sadly she was not very receptive. You two had been having problems on and off for the past year, but things had been getting worse and worse the last couple months. The issues you had were not getting resolved, and you were starting to feel dejected and burnt out. You couldn't help how you felt, and you didn't want things to continue to get worse for either of you. It took several attempts at honest communication and lots of patience since there was a lot of crying, but finally your partner realized that the best thing to do was to just let you go.

The interaction took so much energy out of you that currently all you feel is tired and empty. You almost called your unit chief to tell her you couldn't come in today, but you knew that being alone wasn't the best option. Also, you won't admit it but you'd miss seeing the faces of your fellow team members. Everyone has been so nice and yet also incredibly intimidating as far as their intelligence and experience. You've only been working with them for six months now, and you'd hate for something as inconvenient as your break up to keep you from being there for your team.

You gulp down the last ounce of your red bull before tossing it in the trash can next to your desk. Your body feels a bit too warm in your jacket so you begin to strip yourself of it, hanging it on the back of your chair. You can hear your heart beating in your ears, the organ pumping quickly. You're not sure if your heart is racing due to the caffeine coursing through your veins, or the anxiety of having to face your coworkers when you know you can't hide how you feel right now.

“Hey sugar plum, how are you doin’ this fine Monday morning?”

You look up from your desk to see Penelope, the team's tech analyst, standing next to your chair. As soon as you lock eyes with her, you watch the smile disappear from her face.

“Oh honey... no offense but you look positively dreadful!”

You nervously crimp your lips together, eyes shifting to the ground to take in the image of Penelope's shiny purple pumps. “Yeah, I uh... I had a rough night.”

A shiver runs through your body as you sense the AC kick in and push cold air throughout the bullpen. You decide to slip your arms back into your jacket, pulling it snugly around your shoulders.

Penelope pouts, “What happened to make my little miss newbie lose her sparkle?”

You can’t help but smile at Penelope’s sweet words, but the tightness in your chest makes it disappear rather quickly. “Um... can we talk about it in the bat cave?” You suggest to the blonde woman as the need for privacy to talk about this raw subject becomes a necessity. You didn’t want to cry in the middle of the bullpen.

“Absolutely, please follow me!” Penelope offers her hand out for you to take before guiding you towards her office.

Once you two arrive at Penelope’s office, she shuts the door behind you.

“Alright peanut, have a seat. Tell Penelope what happened.” The blonde woman plops down in her cushioned wheely chair, patting the seat of a neighboring chair.

You roll the empty chair closer towards you to sit down. You take a deep breath, trying to figure out how to talk about the break up without letting your emotions flood out. But you can’t help the tears that start to well up in your eyes when you begin to speak, “So um... my partner and I broke up last night.”

“Oh no!” Penelope’s hands fly up to her cheeks, her lips parted and brows furrowed. “Oh y/n, sweetheart I am so sorry! I know you’ve mentioned you two had been having trouble the past couple months, but it’s still sad when a relationship has to end.”

“Yeah...” You clench your jaw, feeling a heat starting to spread across your face as you try to remain calm while you prepare to explain what happened. This isn’t the first time you’ve confided in Penelope. She is the one person on the team you feel closest to, the tech analyst is just so friendly and you can’t help but gravitate towards her bright happy demeanor like a bug to a light. Despite your nerves about opening up to your fellow teammates, Penelope always manages to make you feel safe to share things about yourself. Especially things that are causing you grief. Sadly you can’t help but wish that you felt that way with your partner... well, your ex partner now.

“So what happened? Spill the tea, girlfriend! I mean, only if you want to because you totally don’t have to if you don’t want to. Only if you’re comfortable! Though you did say you wanted to talk about it so I guess you are but-”

“Garcia, calm down! I’ll tell you, but I need you to be patient with me. It’s all so... fresh. You’re right. It’s sad that our relationship ended. But... it needed to happen.”

Penelope nods, “I am ready to listen whenever you are ready to talk about it.”

You take a deep breath before parting your lips to speak. “So, I tried yet again to communicate with her about how unhappy I’ve been and why. I wasn’t trying to be condescending or mean in bringing things up again, I just felt like I wasn’t being heard when we had talked about things before. Of course, she didn’t take it well and acted like I was being unfair and inconsiderate of her feelings. But the truth is that I’ve always been considerate of her feelings, way too much in fact.”

Penelope’s head tilts to the side, “How so?”

You shift in your chair, crossing your legs and fidgeting with your hands. “Well, in the past when I tried to communicate with her about if I was upset about something she said or did, she would get so upset and make it about her.” The tears start gathering in your eyes, a couple of them falling and landing on your cheeks. “She’d spiral and take things so hard, saying things like ‘you’re right, I can do better, I’m a bad girlfriend, I’m a bad person’ which made me feel terrible for even saying anything so I’d push my feelings aside in order to help her feel better.”

Penelope shakes her head back and forth, “But you shouldn’t have had to do that, y/n! You shouldn’t have to make yourself small just so your partner could be comfortable! Because that means your hurt feelings never got taken care of... you never got taken care of because you had to take care of her. And that’s not fair at all!”

Suddenly, there’s a knock on the door before it opens. Emily Prentiss, your unit chief, peeks her head into the room.

“Hey Pen, have you seen...” Emily’s voice trails off when she sees you. You quickly wipe your tears away with the sleeve of your jacket, sniffling to clear your runny nose.

“Y/n, what’s wrong?” Emily asks, stepping into the room and softly closing the door behind her.

You shake your head, shifting in your chair to stand, "Nothing Prentiss, I'm-"

"Oh no no no! You remain seated young lady! You are not allowed to hide your feelings from the boss lady just because she's the boss lady!" Penelope wags her finger at you before pointing up at Emily.

You glance up at the older brunette, who walks further into the room to stand next to Penelope. Your eyes flick back to the tech analyst, sighing heavily before slumping back into your chair. While crimping your lips together you cross your arms and look at Penelope with a silent plea to tell Emily instead of you having to say it once more. Thankfully, she gets the hint.

“Y/n and her partner broke up last night... it didn’t go well.”

"Oh..." Emily's brows furrow as she nibbles on her bottom lip, her eyes glancing down to the floor briefly before reconnecting them with yours. "I’m sorry to hear that.”

Emily leans back against Penelope’s desk, placing her hand on the blonde’s shoulder. “What do you need? How can we help?”

You shake your head, “I don’t know. What’s done is done, you know? I just... I have all of these feelings that haven’t been properly dealt with for years. I have so much frustration built up after not getting my needs met and feeling like what I wanted didn’t matter... and I don't know how to alleviate it.”

Emily nods, “I understand. We are here for you, y/n. If you need anything, even if it’s just a listening ear-”

“Or a shoulder to cry on!” Penelope interrupts, “We are here for you.”

You smile, wiping more tears from your cheeks. “Thank you guys... I really appreciate it. I’m sorry to dump this on you-”

“Oh no no no, don’t you start that missy! You are not burdening or inconveniencing us with your problems.”

Emily nods, stepping closer to you. “We care about you, y/l/n. Please believe that. I know I’m your boss, but I trust that you know how much you matter to me and the rest of the team.”

You gasp softly, genuinely being shocked by the brunette’s statement. “I... I matter to you guys?”

Emily and Penelope exchange a look, eyes glancing back and forth between you and each other before Emily speaks, “Well of course you do! You may be new to the team, but you’ve been a great help to this unit. I’m very proud of you and grateful for your dedication and assistance.”

Penelope chimes in, “Absolutely! I am also very proud of you and super happy that you’re here! You’re a good person, my sweet. You have sunshine energy! And it makes me so sad to see you like this. All cloudy and less... shiny.”

You nod, “Trust me, I wish I was less cloudy. But it is what it is. I’ll be okay.”

Penelope nods, a silence falling over the three of you for a moment before Penelope dramatically gasps and flaps her hands. It causes both you and Emily to jump slightly.

“Oh oh oh! How about the three of us go out tonight and focus on helping you feel better! Maybe we can figure out some ways to relieve you of all your pent up angsty feelings! Ways that involve drinks with salt on the rim and tiny umbrellas!”

Emily grins, “I think that’s a great idea, Pen! Come on y/n, what do you say?”

"Oh, uh, you guys are too nice... but I don’t think-"

"No buts! Just say yes!”

You bite your bottom lip in contemplation. A fun night out with two gorgeous women you work with/for? Sounds like it’s just what you need to distract yourself and hopefully release all the stress and anxiety you have over the break up. You watch as Penelope and Emily stare at you with excited expressions. You lick your lips before grinning up at your fellow agents, “Okay! Let’s do it!”

Penelope squeals in delight before jumping out of her chair and enveloping you in a warm hug. “OMG I’m so excited! We haven’t had a proper girls night with you yet,, and now we’re doing it! Oh this is going to be so much fun!”

You laugh as you hug Penelope back, reveling in the physical contact. Penelope peers her head back towards Emily, “Get in here Em, y/l/n deserves more hug power!”

Emily chuckles before walking towards you and Penelope, wrapping her arms around you both. You are now enveloped in warmth and the sweet scents of their perfumes fill your nostrils. The tension in your shoulders melts away as you allow yourself to relax in their arms.

Emily pulls away after a couple seconds and pats Penelope on the shoulder, “You gotta let her go honey, I need you both to get back to work.”

Penelope groans, “But she’s so huggable I don’t wanna let her go!”

You can't help the giggle that escapes your lips as Penelope squeezes a bit harder, finding the blonde's action quite endearing.

Emily chuckles, “Garcia, you’re gonna suffocate the poor girl and we can’t lose any more agents! We need her!”

All three of you laugh with each other for a moment before Penelope reluctantly lets you go and steps back.

You smile, “Thanks again you guys. I feel so much better now.”

Emily nods her head, “Good! Now let’s get through the rest of the day so we can have some fun tonight!”

Penelope straightens her posture and clicks her heels together, “Yes ma’am, right away ma’am!”

Emily holds the door open for you and as you get ready to exit the office you feel her hand touch the small of your back, guiding you out. Penelope follows behind you both, stopping at the doorway to watch as you and Emily walk side by side down the hallway. “Bye my loves! See you later! Don’t work too hard!”

Emily gently pats and rubs your shoulder before you part ways, “I’ll check on you later, okay?”

You nod, “Thanks Prentiss.”

You walk back to your desk as you watch the unit chief ascend up the stairs to her office. The sadness you felt earlier has now been soothed and replaced with excitement for being with Penelope and Emily for a whole night of fun.

---

Thanks for taking the time to read! Hope you liked it!

Please like/reblog! I truly appreciate any notes I can get lol! 😁

Also let me know if anyone is interested in a part 2 because I’ll definitely try to make it happen if you want it (and it’ll be less platonic, currently thinking about how I’d want to introduce the romantic/sapphic vibes into the story 👀)!

Till next time, my friends! ✌

#5rays fics #penemily x reader fanfiction #emily prentiss #penelope garcia #emily prentiss fanfiction #penelope garcia fanfiction #penemily fanfiction #criminal minds fanfiction #criminal minds #emily prentiss birthday celebration 2021🍭

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whimsicallyreading · 3 years

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Eight Second Ride

Okay, so I did a thing. This is for @charincharge who made me think this was a good idea and @wordsxstars who convinced me to post it anyways when I reconsidered. XD I hope y’all enjoy.

CW- An inaccurate portrayal of modern cowboys. They ain’t shit y'all. XD

The smell of hay and top soil fills the arena and Aelin can feel the anticipation of the crowd rushing through her.

So far, Bulls Night Out had been more epic than she was expecting. When Aedion had showed up at her apartment and presented her with the tickets, she wasn’t impressed. A night in a building filled with dirt, watching men attempt questionable things with animals wasn’t exactly her idea of fun.

Yet, with every near-fatal miss and the difference between victory and failure lying in the milliseconds between competitors- Aelin found she was quickly becoming invested in the bizarre sport.

Lorcan Salvaterre was the name highlighted at the top of the leader board with an impressive nine-point-one second ride. A lot of the men, she noticed, didn’t even make the minimum eight seconds before flying off their bull.

Aelin had watched in morbid fascination as a rider named Vaughn was tossed and narrowly escaped death. A hoof missing his head by a hair. His buddies had helped pull him back over the fence just as a gate at the far end of the arena opened. She watched as two men on horses roped the angry steer and guided it back towards the stalls.

When Vaughn saw the timer which now reads N/A he took off his hat and threw it on the ground, yanking on the ends of his dark hair. A couple of hands reached around to pat his shoulder consolingly.

Aelin’s attention was pulled away as Aedion squeezed his massive thighs through the tiny, crowded stadium seating. A cherry frosty in one hand and the funnel cake she requested in the other.

He set the dessert of fried batter and powdered sugar in her lap, and her heart nearly stopped in her chest. Whether it was from the sight of something so greasy, or the pure joy of the carnival snack she didn’t know.

“It’s about time,” she goads Aedion through a mouthful of dough. The sugar already coating her fingers and a layer of it dirtying her jeans. It was a mess, but so good.

Aedion’s eyes narrow at her as he sips his frosty, “It’s a mad house down there. All of the lines are like a mile long and I’m pretty sure a clown tried to grab my ass.” He snags a bite of her funnel cake and shoves it in his mouth. “I hope your snack was worth it.”

“Keeping me happy is worth it,” she smacks his wrist when his fingers try to swipe another bite.

The crowd roars and Aelin looks back down to see a rider running back towards the fence, a glinting smile on his face. On the big screen, they replay his ride and clock him at nine-seconds even, placing him in second place.

Aedion whistles appreciatively at the footage and Aelin claps when a Fenrys Moonbeam is placed just below Lorcan on the leader board.

“Damn, he’s attractive.” Aedion comments, and Aelin nods enthusiastically.

“I’m not going to lie. I was skeptical about this-“ they watch as another rider is helped onto a bull and they await the go, “but this is way more fun then I thought it was going to be.”

“It helps that all of these people are fine,” he laughs. Aedion pulls out his phone, and videos the next ride. It only lasts five seconds, but makes an excellent boomerang that he swiftly posts to his story. Followed by a selfie of them and their snacks.

Lysandra would be so mad she bailed.

“Shit,” Aedion swears as he drops his frosty and the red ice bursts across the front on his shirt. “Shit. I forgot napkins.”

“I’ll go get some,” Aelin assures, but as she battles her way through the crowd and bumps various limbs against other peoples body parts, she regrets her chivalry.

It takes five minutes alone just to get to the bottom of the stairs. Pulling herself free from the throngs of people, Aelin leans against the bars looking down, directly into the arena. She needed a moment of fresh air, not surrounded by dozens of sweaty people. Aedion could wait an extra damn minute.

But, as she peels her eyes open, they nearly bug out of her head. Directly below her she can see right into the shoot, and the bull rider who was being set up for his next ride.

His eyes are the same pine green as the forests of her homeland, and she can see the white hair coiled into a bun right before his buddy slaps a hat on his head.

He was beautiful. A work of masculine art. Muscles for days and Aelin swore she could gut glass against his cheekbones. Aedion’s napkins are long forgotten as she stares at the man situating himself onto the fidgeting bull.

Rowan Whitethorn- the name is plastered on the big screen alongside his previous states and homeland. He’s from Wendlyn, her mother’s country of origin.

When Aelin looks back down, she startled. His face is locked on hers, green eyes piercing her skin with its inquisitiveness. He’s close enough she can see his pail eyelashes droop, apparently satisfied by what he sees. Aelin forces her expression to stay neutral as his yes flitter back up her face to meet her own gaze.

Their eyes lock, neither of them blink. Aelin can feel the temperature of the building rise by several degrees and she bites her lip.

A man slaps Rowan’s shoulder, telling him the count down has started. He barely pays the person any mind though as the seconds before his ride dwindle down. Just before the horn blows, he winks at her.

Aelin’s whole face burns as the gate is released and Rowan is out of the shoot like a rocket. Her heart is thumping in her chest like a base drum and she’s about ready to lay on the floor and die.

That man. She caught that beautiful man’s attention and got into a veritable starting contest with him like a five year-old. Her horror is only exacerbated when she realizes her hands are still coated in powdered sugar and it was probably on her face as well.

So much for her image as smoldering, goddess.

A roar from the crowd rises like never before. The men above the shoots near her have their hats off and are cheering at the top of their lungs. People are stomping, clapping. Something big just happened.

A replay of Rowan’d ride is playing across several different screens. Below his name, is his time.

Twelve seconds.

Suddenly, a pair of calloused hands are gripping the rails near her face, and a heavily muscled body is pulling itself up and over the edge.

Aelin staggers back as Rowan drops onto the floor in front of her. His eyes are lit with adrenalin and sweat beads his brow, but despite the whirlwind he’d just gone through he looked strangely serene.

He marches in front of her grabs a paper from inside his pocket. It’s a crumpled paper with a bold number on one side and on the back is his name and information.

Information like his phone number.

Her mouth goes dry as he presses it into her hand. Rowan gives her a smile that sends a tingle down her spine and makes her toes curl in her shoes.

“You are good luck, doll. You should give me a call sometime.”

Aelin’s bravado catches up with her and she places a hand on her hip, meeting his gaze full on. “If I’m such good luck then you would take me out for a drink. Tonight.”

Pulling the hat from his head, Rowan combs a hand through the loose strands of silver hair cascading around his face. “I think I can manage that.”

“I’ll be in row ten, seat seven. When you are done.” She pushes the piece of paper back at hum and nods to where Aedion is sitting. He’s be pissed when he realized she would be ditching him.

“I’ll see you in about an hour,” his eyes rake over her one more time before walking away to join his jovial friends.

They clap his shoulders, he’s so tall some of them have to jump to rustle the top of his head. All of them enthused over his almost assured win, before they sweep him away and he disappears into the crowd, he looks back at her one more time.

An hour, she mouthes to him.

A half-grin graces his face and he tilts his chin as Aelin makes her way back to Aedion.

Yeah, the rodeo was definitely more exciting then she was expecting.

#one shot maybe #cowboy au #rowaelin #rowan #aelin #charincharge asked #I delivered

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fourmarkdove · 3 years

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Fawn - Part 5

Title: Fawn - Part 5

Words: 2.1k

Summary: Plans to return to your ancestral home are halted by an accident that nearly costs your life. Angst. Hurt/comfort.

Pairing: Geralt x reader

Warnings: Suicidal ideation. If you’re triggered PLEASE skip ahead. Please check out the trigger warnings (tw:) in the tags!

A/N: I appreciate you sticking with me this far. Comments welcome. Thanks for reading as always!

The crack of thunder shook you awake from a dead sleep atop Roach. You gasped, lifting your head from the bicep you’d been using as a pillow for hours and bolted upright.

“You’re safe,” Geralt soothed in a tone so deep that you felt the sound rumble in his chest pressed against your back. He’d tucked you completely inside of his cloak with him while the rain patted rhythmically on the fabric all around you. Although it was completely dark, your cheeks were so warm and the scent of leather and him was so comforting. Closing your eyes again, you settled back and felt his thumb stroke your hip indicating that’s exactly what he wanted you to do. The gentle motion of the horse under you and how his hips rolled with yours… you wanted to think more about it but you nuzzled against his bicep and were gone again in seconds.

“What’s she doing?” Jaskier asked hours later when your head poked out of the cloak swallowing your frame. Everything was now covered in a thin layer of white as the rain turned to snow.

Geralt cocked his head to the side, amused by your attempts to catch snowflakes on your tongue.

“So thirsty,” you choked.

“Now how is that possible?” Jaskier complained, receiving a sharp side eye from the Witcher. “I’m just saying… she’s already had yours and mine.”

The Bard was right. But you’d also used up every last drop of fluid in your body to expel the inky poison just the day before. And the elevation change couldn’t help.

Inhaling deeply, he caught the scent of a nearby stream and tugged on the reins toward that direction.

The moment that Roach paused, you pushed aside the black cloak. You became completely enraptured by the tinkling sound of ice forming and breaking along the banks, the gentle rush of the water flowing over well worn rocks, and the sparkle of what little light reflected across the surface. This mesmerizing scene caused you to all but launch yourself at the ground and race towards it.

Geralt caught around your hips mid-leap and dragged you back over his thick thigh to his solid chest with a ‘thump’, nearly knocking the wind out of you.

“Let me go!” you squealed, your hands attempting to pry his solid forearm away from your ribs.

He grunted, tugging off his cloak and wrapped it around you. He didn’t say so out loud, but he was troubled by how long you slept, how quiet. You’d been draped over his forearm all day and barely woke a couple of times in a daze mewling for water before dropping again. Admittedly, he shifted his weight in the saddle more than once just to check and see if you’d wake and we’re still breathing.

Stepping down, the Witcher led his horse to drink and then lifted you down to sit at the edge as well.

It didn’t take but a moment for you to scramble onto your stomach and reach out to touch the water, bringing your fingertips back to taste.

Jaskier filled his water jug and frowned. “Mm… Geralt I think your friend here is still unwell.”

Clearing his throat, Geralt refocused the gaping bard.

“So what’s the plan then? Pause a moment here? Then move on to the next town? I don’t feel much like sleeping out here tonight.”

The Witcher huffed and shook his head. “Give her a moment; then we’ll see..”

As the two men talked, they didn’t see you lean forward and stretch your neck out to drink like Roach. The cool water tasted so good going down your parched throat, you just couldn’t get enough.

With a yelp and a splash, the powdery snow gave way and you slipped right into the frigid water, dragged under with his heavy cloak gripping your neck.

“Fuck.” Geralt growled, knowing immediately what had happened even before he turned heel to run downstream. Racing ahead of you, he planted his feet in the water that didn’t reach quite over his knees and leaned way over to collect the writhing mass of arms, legs, and fabric tumbling underwater toward him.

You came up coughing and it took him a moment to figure out which end was up. “Let go of me!” you cried out, hot tears welling up, threatening to spill down your cold cheeks.

“Hmm,” he grumped, stepping out of the cold water. Catching under your legs, he noticed the pleats of Jaskier’s borrowed pants were already beginning to freeze, stiffen, and stick to your skin.

Standing you on a clear spot he made with his boot, his cloak dropped in a heap around your legs. You trembled uncontrollably, from the shock of nearly drowning, the frightening cold seizing your body, and terror of the scowling Witcher tearing clothes from your body for the third time in as many days.

“Jaskier. Build a fire.”

“What? Why? We are headed to the next town, remember?”

His eyes narrowed and he growled, tugging the hem of Jaskier’s borrowed tunic right up over your head.

“She’s not going anywhere if she’s dead.”

“Alright, alright,” Jaskier sulked, turning away, beginning to collect firewood. He wasn’t too keen on staying out in the forest any longer - not when there was a warm bed and any number of supple breasts waiting for him in town.

The Witcher looked deadly serious though, his jaw set and gold eyes alight with focus. Feeling through his bags, he retrieved one of his own black tunics.

“Take it,” he rumbled, pressing the worn fabric into your shaking hands clutching your elbows. Left shuddering, you were slow to move. Every muscle in your body ached and the cold had sucked any reserve of energy you’d gained during your long sleep.

The Witcher busied himself tearing apart firewood with his bare hands and tossing them in a pile, making Jasker’s meager armful look like kindling. He could hear your heartbeat slowing the moment he dragged you from the icy water. Even from a distance now, he could make out the faintest sound of your muscles seizing up.

With a hefty sigh, he returned to you and plucked his shirt from your frozen grasp. You’d made no progress peeling off the remainder of the icy fabric, now stiff and sticking to your tender skin.

“Come here,” he husked, bending down from behind you. The rumble of his voice so close to your neck made you gasp.

“I can do it.”

“If you could do it, you’d have done it by now.”

His large hands wrapped around your waist, pulling the fabric down your body. It was a relief to be released from the frozen solid garment and you exhaled deeply in appreciation.

Next he reached around to your belly and tugged at the frozen solid knot of your bottoms. The knot gave way in his fist and they dropped from your hips. Suddenly feeling very exposed to more than just the cold, you folded your arms across your chest like an embarrassed bride.

His black shirt dropped down over you like a sail, skimming below your knees. It was soft and surprisingly warm. As soon as your arms unfolded and slipped into the too long sleeves, he scooped you up under your knees. All you wanted to do was rest your head on his shoulder and curl up against his chest while he stroked you all over but then you remembered the violet-eyed Yennefer. And how he kept the wedding a secret. Embittered by the betrayal, you pulled away when he settled you onto the saddle blanket near the fire just flickering to life and went to repack his saddle bags.

You watched him silently, letting the warmth of the fire gradually thaw your limbs.

“I’m going hunting,” Geralt announced, returning to the flickering fire.

Sitting across from you, Jaskier rubbed his belly. “Not particularly hungry at the moment.”

You shook your head indicating you were fine too.

He frowned sharply, disapproval furrowed his brow. Without saying a word, his attention snapped to his weapons and stalked into the woods alone.

“Did I say something wrong?”

Jaskier’s gaze followed his friend until he was out of sight. “Wha… no. He’s just worried about you and it’s made him extra grumpy.”

By the time he returned with several large rabbits in hand, the Witcher’s cloak was tented over a low hanging branch and Jaskier sat near the fire plucking.

Geralt nosed toward the tent before dropping heavily onto the log nearest the fire and set to work preparing the rabbits.

“She is resting,” Jaskier over-enunciated, still just shy of a whisper. “Are we done traveling for today because I sure would love the feel of a warm bed and soft thighs around my head.”

“Hmm,” he grunted. In truth, Geralt was only half listening, and more focused on turning an ear toward the makeshift tent. “When did you last look in on her?”

His tone was threatening and it made the bard incredulous, putting his hands up. “A while I suppose? All I did was help put some stones down so it wouldn’t blow away when the wind picked up.”

Geralt huffed, nodding slightly. Still, he always heard your racing heartbeat; something felt wrong. Pinning his knife in the log where he sat, he lifted heavily and crunched through the dusting of snow accumulating around the campsite.

“Jaskier!” he bellowed, tearing down his cloak, revealing only his saddle and empty blankets.

“Listen, Geralt, I swear I didn’t know,” he pleaded, following the seething silent witcher. “How can I help? What should I do?”

“Jaskier - you’ve done enough. Go into town like you planned.”

The Wolf followed your boot prints in the muddy snow until there were no more feet to follow. Fortunately, he recognized your scent trail wafting along the underbrush. Stalking in stealth behind you, it didn’t take long to catch up.

Wielding his silver knife overhead, an otherworldly shriek escaped your lips as you dived onto the Drowner, slicing into its sickly flesh.

He dashed forward into the fray as a second and third, escaping your notice, heaved themselves onto shore.

Once the fallen creature lay hissing, you leapt atop its writhing body, pinning it to the ground between your knees, and gripped the stolen blade you’d concealed in your boot.

Dispatching both deadly creatures quickly with his heavy sword, his hair spun like a riptide about his face as he looked for you in the near dark.

A gasping shriek from the nightmare fodder pinned under his fawn gave way to slick, gouging sounds as you mangled the putrid flesh over and over until you were breathless.

Catching your hand, he pried the blood slick blade from your grasp. Ripping your slippery hand from his yielding grip, you leaned over your gaping kill and released a soul wrenched, hate-filled scream.

Geralt gripped under your arms and dragged you away from the water's edge. Collapsing back against an oak tree with you barely contained in his constantly readjusting grasp, he exploded in anger.

“What the fuck are you doing out here?! That fucking thing could have killed you. Stop - Stop struggling and answer me!”

Letting out a howl more feral than alliterative, you squirmed and elbowed his ribs as hard as you could.

He easily overwhelmed your attempt to flee and flexed his arms around your body, dragging your back to the solid wall of his chest. Panting, nearly breathless yourself, he gripped you tight and stroked back the hair clinging to your sweaty brow; you relented more out of pure exhaustion than anything else, letting your head willfully dip back against his shoulder.

He frowned severely, glancing side eyed at you as you trembled with every breath and clung onto the forearm pressed across your breasts.

“What. Happened,” he rumbled, dropping his voice to a more intimate tone.

Your head rolled slightly on his shoulder, licking your dry lips. “I don’t know.”

“Why do you have my knife? You’ve told me how nervous they make you.”

Releasing the grip of the mud underfoot, you began to rest your weight back against him. Feeling your clammy forehead against his cheek, he sighed. And waited.

“I was going to end it, Geralt. Right here by the water. I want to be swept away.”

Jaw clenched, he fought the immediate eruption of rage threatening to explode deep in his belly.

“But those things appeared and ruined that moment in time when I was at peace with the idea. I got so angry because I was ready but they took it from me. Finally a decision all my own and it was taken.”

“Despair is an ugly look on you,” he seethed through clenched teeth.

Conceding to his blunt objectiveness, you wilted. “Unwanted daughter… Bride. Whore. What else do I have to hide my shame if not despair?”

#tw: sucidal thoughts #tw: suicidal ideation #geralt of rivia #geralt x reader #geralt x you #geralt angst #geralt hurt/comfort #the witcher fic #the witcher fanfiction #henry cavill fic #henry cavill fanfiction #fourmarkdovewrites

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sugarplumwriter · 3 years

Text

Confessions {Part 1}

1980s!Johnny Lawrence x Reader

A/N: So I have quite a bit I want to get out of my system. I just really need some writing and innocent fantasies right now. Enjoy.

Summary: You confess your feelings to your high school crush, Johnny Lawrence.

Warnings: unrequited love, L2 (English is only my 2nd language)

{Masterlist}

About several months ago, Johnny and Ali broke up.

Your friend had told you that before everybody at school knew and before everybody started talking about it for the following two weeks afterwards. She told you that just how she had told you two years ago that they started dating. And you could still remember how crushed you were when you found out.

The night you found out, you and two of your friends were having a sleepover at one of their houses, and she had just briefly mentioned what Ali had told her that morning at school. Since they were pretty good friends, your friend always knew what was going on in Ali's life. And despite not being her friend yourself, you were on good terms, and you respected Ali.

Back then no one knew you had feelings for Johnny, not even you had realized that, yet. Your mind had gone numb to this information at first, and it wasn't until you were picked up by your parent the next day and brought back home, that you finally began crying just as you got in the shower and the water started running. You didn't let anyone find out about your feelings and no one ever did.

You cried only that one time, and you were great at handling yourself at school, around your friends and especially around Ali. Also, you weren't angry, of course, you were only hurt.

But now that they weren't together anymore, and it seemed like that wouldn't change any time soon, the feelings you were trying to bury for so long, began to surface again.

Out of respect you had distanced yourself, out of respect you were suppressing your feelings and out of respect you hadn't told anyone, but now, there wasn't a reason for all that anymore so naturally all the chains lifted themselves and your feelings became stronger and more present than ever.

All this, however, had given you new hope. You finally wanted to take action. You wanted to open up about your feelings for him, and you wanted that person to be him.

So, you told yourself, you'd confess to him on his next birthday, which was just a month away.

When his birthday rolled around, you weren't really scared or anything like that per se. You felt good about that decision, and it was something you were really looking forward to.

So, you kept an eye out to catch him when he was alone. Of course, you didn't want an audience for such an intimate moment. But that was way harder than you had anticipated.

When you just got to school that day, he was surrounded by his friends. Then later in the hallways there was always someone he was talking to. You didn't share any classes with him that day, so your last hope was to wait till school ended in hopes of catching him alone then.

But you didn't. And the next day wasn't any better, either. It all kind of felt like you weren't supposed to confess to him at this point which made you almost give up.

The same afternoon of that second day, you were meeting some friends at the beach. All the while you were hanging out with them, it really tempted you to tell them what you were attempting. But you didn't have the courage. How could you have courage to tell Johnny, then? you thought to yourself. It all dawned on you, that it probably wouldn’t change anything between you two anyways. He probably didn’t care, or he would’ve made a move himself.

"Hey." One of your friends waved her hand in front of you.

"Hmh?" you grumbled and looked at her. You were fiddling with your jacket right before she addressed you, so you hadn’t even noticed when she sat next to you.

"Are you alright?" Luckily, the others didn't hear her. They were playing volleyball. You stopped playing because it was becoming very windy and your mood was kind of bad anyways.

"Yeah ...” You paused. “Well uhm actually ..."

You weren’t sure if you wanted to talk about it or if you’d only regret it afterwards.

But you kind of wanted a second opinion. You trusted this friend a lot.

"You can tell me, you know. You've been quite absent the past couple of days," she said and sat closer to you. Her expression was worried and very serious. Not what you wanted at all, but it felt comforting.

And just like that you opened up. You two ended up talking for the rest of the evening. You didn't tell her it was Johnny you were having feelings for, but she supported you in confessing and respected that you wouldn’t tell her unless the confession was successful. Although she expressed some doubts and worries, overall, she wanted you to shoot your shot

It gave you strength and determination and you told yourself that night that you’d confess the next day or you wouldn't confess at all.

The next morning wasn’t much different than the others. You were still keeping an eye out for Johnny and hoped he’d be alone sometime.

He wasn’t alone all throughout the school day, though, but after the last period, in great surprise, he was walking alone right in front of you.

The perfect moment finally came. Building up all your courage and thinking about what you’d say to him in a stream of thoughts, you nervously looked at his back. His blonde hair, nice tan and great smell put you in a kind of trance. Suddenly, you were numb.

“Ah, Joh-“ You stopped in your tracks. Disappointment filled your stomach.

The blonde entered the bathroom and was out of sight.

Now, what? you thought.

Not wanting to remain on the same spot forever, you started walking and eventually left the building.

A lot of things went through your mind but the most prominent one was Wait just for a little longer. You also told yourself that if he happened to pass by you, you’d stop him and tell him right then and there. So, you stood there and waited. You scanned the surroundings for other students you knew but you didn’t recognize anyone except a small group of girls who were laughing and talking to each other and seemed pretty occupied by their own business.

After a minute or two, Johnny appeared behind a corner and made his way walking right past you. Without hesitation, you called his name.

“Johnny!”

He stopped and turned around.

“Wait,” you added and walked up to him.

As you were standing in front of him, looking at him and into his bright eyes, you were lost for words. Your mind was completely blank and the only thing you were able to get out was: “I like you.”

“Oh, uhm …,” Johnny was visibly taken aback. “I haven’t thought about you in such a way,” he muttered out.

It took you a moment to react. “Ah, okay.”

“I mean, we don’t really know each other that well.”

“That’s not really something I can control, though.”

He looked on the ground then back up.

“I guess. I’m not really looking for something like that right now. After what happened with … you know,” he explained.

“So, uhm, well ... I just wanted to tell you that. I hope I didn’t make you feel uncomfortable.”

“As long as it made you feel better.”

“Yeah.”

You two looked at each other.

“Oh and uhm, I would appreciate if you didn’t tell anyone,” you added.

“I won’t, promise.”

He smiled at you which warmed your heart and you smiled back.

You were looking for more words but everything had been said.

“See you around, then.”

“See you, y/n.”

After that you turned around and started heading home. Your body was filled with adrenaline and if felt like your skin was burning.

Many emotions made themselves noticeable but the strongest one was relief. You finally felt like this situation wasn’t in your hands anymore and that felt freeing and refreshing.

Despite his respond, you felt like you did yourself a great favor.

You never regretted that you told him, which didn’t mean it was easy for you, either. Seeing him the next day and all the other days after that was painful. But in a good way.

Now you had an open wound that could start healing instead of a burning pain under your skin.

{Part 2/finale}

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justmypartner · 3 years

Text

Make it Work: Chapter 8

Summary: When offered a permanent position with the FBI, Hailey agrees to take it under one condition: Jay comes too. As their personal lives and work lives begin to change, the two partners find it increasingly difficult to navigate their complex relationship and manage their feelings for one another.

Writer’s Note: This is my favorite chapter so far. I cried, I smiled, I felt a lot of emotions while writing it, and I’m pretty proud of how it turned out. There are a few warnings for this chapter, so see those below. Not to give anything away, but if you didn’t like Walker before, you really won’t like him after this chapter. Thanks to everyone following this story, I appreciate each and every note so much! Prepare your tissues and please enjoy!!

TW//: mentions of assault and attempted sexual assault

Tagging: @angelsjedi , @brookerz122493 , @cpdfan2014 , @the–carousel , @maya-asturias , @itsdesiree86 , @tvshowsaremyhappyplace

Read on AO3 or below

A light patter on the window woke Jay long before his alarm did. He threw his duvet from his body and rose from the bed, stretching out his tired limbs before moving to the window to watch as rain fell from the sky. It was his first rainy New York City day, and his mood certainly matched the weather. Unlike the day prior, he was hangover free, but he had a strange dismal feeling in his chest he couldn’t explain. He chalked the feeling up to the dreary weather and slowly began to get ready for the day.

He walked to work, maneuvering through the sidewalk traffic carefully as his umbrella bumped into those around him. When he made it to the office, it was uncharacteristically quiet. He went to the break room to make a cup of coffee before settling into his desk. He had been quietly catching up on things when Walker walked in. Jay’s attention shot up when he noticed the red and purple bruises scattered across his face.

“Dude, what the hell happened to you?” Jay questioned, suppressing a snicker that leapt out from the back of his throat. Walker only replied with a scowl and a shake of the head. Jay threw his hands up in surrender, but he wasn’t planning on fully letting it go. Whatever happened, he figured must have taken place sometime after he left work the night before. Then it hit him, Hailey went out with him and would surely know the story.

Jay pulled out his phone, clicking on her contact and typing her a message.

Cannot wait to hear about what Walker got into last night. He’s being tight-lipped about it, but I’m sure it’s a story you’re just itching to tell ;)

He sent the text with a concealed smirk before slipping his phone back into his pocket and bringing his attention back to his computer. Not long after Walker showed up, Daisy walked in, immediately taking note of the bruises on Walker’s face and chuckling to herself.

“What happened Burrows, sleep with the wrong guy’s wife?” she mocked with a sneer as she settled into her desk. He silently shut her down the same way he did Jay. Daisy’s eyes met Jay’s, widening with curiosity and amusement. He shrugged, shaking his head with an entertained grin.

After a while, Hailey still hadn’t shown up, causing him to worry. She was never late, so he decided to call her. No answer. He texted her again, this time asking if she was alright. By the time Drake had come in to brief the team on the day’s case, she still hadn’t shown up and she still hadn’t responded. He wasn’t sure what was going on, but he knew something was wrong. After the briefing, he pulled Walker aside.

“Do you know where Hailey is?” He asked him. The man twitched at the sound of her name, causing Jay to look at him crossly.

“No clue,” Walker replied bluntly.

“Did something happen last night?” Jay questioned, anxiety building as he surveyed the man’s beaten face, his imagination beginning to run unhinged.

“Look, Halstead. I have no clue where she is, leave me alone,” he spat, pushing past him to end the conversation. Something was up, and every word that left the man’s mouth only made Jay more concerned. His gut told him her absence and his bruises weren’t mutually exclusive, the thought sent a hot anger through Jay’s body. Before Walker could get far, Jay grabbed at his arm, pulling him back around to face him.

“What the hell happened?” He hissed. Walker tried to yank his arm away, but Jay tightened his grip, preventing him from doing so.

“Back off, Halstead,” he bucked up, trying to get in his face.

Daisy noticed the scrap, rushing over and inserting herself between the two of them.

“Woah, okay what’s going on here?” she raised, pushing against each of their chests to separate them. Avoiding the question, Jay shook his head, moving towards his desk and snatching his jacket from the back of his chair.

“Doesn’t matter. I’ll go find out myself. It better have nothing to do with you,” Jay threatened, pushing a finger into the man’s chest.

He turned to Daisy. “Tell Drake I had to take care of something. Also, don’t let him out of your sight,” he told her softly, nodding his head towards Walker. She nodded skeptically, and he turned to make his way towards the elevators.

His heart practically leapt out of his chest as he trudged through the rain on his way to Hailey’s apartment. In his rush out of headquarters, he left his umbrella, leaving cold rain pouring over him, soaking in his clothes down to his skin the entire walk over. Yet, it did nothing to cool down the fire that filled his body with rage. He wasn’t sure what was going on, but the twisted feeling in his abdomen went from bad to worse after his confrontation with Walker.

He reached her building, desperately punching the buzzer for her apartment. It took several minutes, but eventually, she answered.

“Yes?” her soft voice echoed through the speaker, causing him to lean a hand into the building in relief. The comfort of hearing her voice dwindled quickly when he realized the defeated tone she carried.

“Hail, it’s me. Let me up,” he said as calmly as possible, raising his voice slightly to be understood over the thrumming of rain around him. There was no response and there was no buzz. He repeated his words once again.

“Let me up, please. I need to see that you’re alright,” he begged, the rain continuing to seep into his suit and cling to his skin.

A few moments later, there was a buzz and the lobby door opened. He made his way through it, ignoring the slippery mess he was creating all the way into the building and rushing up the stairs to her apartment. When he made it to her door, he took a beat, preparing himself for whatever he was about to see on the other side. He knocked. The sound of light footsteps approached before the lock clicked and the door opened slowly.

His heart fell in his chest the second he caught sight of her. His eyes travelled up and down her body, taking in every heart-wrenching detail. She wore an exhausted, somber look on her face and her eyes hopelessly avoided his. Her curls were a tangled mess framing her face, her bottom lip was split, the low cut of her tank revealed bruises along her neck and collarbone, and despite the way the long sleeves of the open flannel she wore covered her hands, he made out defensive wounds along her nails and knuckles. Without thinking, he reached out his hand, trailing his fingers gently along the red and purple bruises lining her neck and chest. The cold rain dripped down from his sleeves and onto her skin, sending visible shudders through her body.

“Hailey…” he whispered. Something broke in him when he noticed the way her eyes slowly fluttered closed as she relaxed under his touch.

“I’m okay, Jay,” she muttered, continuing to avoid eye contact with him. “Let me get you a towel, you’re probably freezing,” she said, moving away as he became aware of the way his body was shivering, the rainwater dripping down into a small puddle in her doorway. He stood there frozen, his eyes taking in the room from her door, noticing the knocked-over lamp and shattered picture frame on the floor.

What the hell happened here? He thought to himself before she reappeared in front of him, holding out a towel for him to wrap into. He stood a statue, only his eyes moving from the room and back to her, tears blurring his vision as the image of her battered body tore him apart inside. When he didn’t take the towel, she moved toward him, rising on her tiptoes to wrap it around his shoulders. She stepped back out of the way, and he stepped inside, just enough for her to close the door.

“What did he do?” he questioned, trying to remain soft with her even though his ire toward Burrows was spilling over inside of him. She sighed a shaky breath before turning around, finding a spot on the arm of her couch, flinching in pain lightly when she crossed her arms. He remained in the entryway, waiting for her to speak as rain droplets from his hair left trails down his face. He watched as she bit down hard, clenching her jaw as she concentrated on her thoughts.

“We went out last night,” she began, Jay taking note of the way she avoided saying his name. “It was getting late, we had a lot to drink. He had way more than me, way more than usual, but I didn’t oppose when he offered to walk me home. When we got out front, he emptied his guts into the bushes and asked me if he could come up for some water. I agreed, and he came up to my apartment. I pulled a glass from the cupboard, and when I turned around he was pressing me against the counter,” she said, the shakiness in her voice building up as she continued. Jay felt like he was going to be sick himself.

“He was trying to kiss me, holding me against the counter with one hand… groping me with the other. I told him to stop, that he was drunk, that I wasn’t interested. I tried pushing him away, but I was drunk myself… weaker and clumsier than I usually am. His hands were still on me, pulling, squeezing…” her voice trailed off as tears rolled from her cheeks. Jay was fuming with anger, ready to go kill the man with his bare hands that second.

“The more I struggled to get away, the more he laid into me. Punching me, choking me, putting his entire weight into my body as he forced himself on me,” her breath shuddered and she groaned as tears escaped her eyes. Jay’s head was pounding from holding back tears and vexation. The more she said, the angrier he became.

“Did he?” He asked fearfully, unsure of whether or not he wanted the answer. He felt that same heart sinking feeling he had when he asked her the same question so many years ago when he found out what Booth did to her. The same way it did back then, his voice broke with the words. He only hoped she didn’t notice the way he was completely falling apart with her. She shook her head as her puffy eyes blinked closed, sending tears down her cheeks.

“I was yelling at him to stop. Telling him no and pushing with every part of my body to get him off. He was so drunk he wasn’t even registering my words, but I was able to get a hit in, leaving him vulnerable for a split second. Long enough to catch him off guard. I laid into him until his face was so swollen I didn’t even recognize him. He got up and stumbled towards the door, falling into that table. I was able to shove him out of the apartment… and I just... I’m okay. Really. It’s nothing I haven’t dealt with before,” she said, looking down into the floor. Her words stung deep because he knew it really wasn’t anything she hadn’t had to endure before.

She was quiet for a moment, swallowing hard almost like she was trying to stomach every emotion that had to be consuming her. She stifled a series of whimpers and despite her best attempts, she fell apart completely. She clutched at her body with her arms as deep sobs shook her entire being. He wasn’t sure if he should approach her, wasn’t sure if touching her would trigger her, wasn’t sure what she needed in that moment.

So, he slowly made his way towards her, close enough to touch her, to remind her he was there and she was safe, but holding back as sobs continued to escape her mouth. She reached an arm out, trying to steady herself as she attempted to catch her breath. That was the affirmation he needed, so he carefully grabbed her by the arms, wrapping her up in his body slowly. She nestled into him and despite the cold and soggy mess he was, she clung tightly to him. They dropped to the floor as she fell apart. He rested his chin against her head as his arms squeezed her as tightly as they could. The rain droplets fell down his face and blended with the tears that spilled out of his eyes.

“Shh. I’ve got you. You’re safe. He won’t hurt you again. I got you,” he said, repeating the last three words over and over again in whispers. He felt her fingers clench tightly around his back and they sat like that for a while, huddled together on the floor until she had come down from it all.

She pulled away from his hold, keeping her fingers gripped against his back as he cradled her in his arms.

“I’m sorry,” her voice cracked with the words, and Jay responded instantly by shaking his head.

“No, don’t do that. You have nothing to be sorry for,” he whispered tenderly.

She reached a hand up, brushing a loose, wet curl from his forehead as he lost himself in her glossy blue eyes. Her eyes steadied him, casting out all of the rage that previously filled his body, and bringing him into an unexpected state of peace despite everything that just happened. She was all that mattered. Regardless of the trauma she had went through, in that moment, she was okay, she was safe, and she was in his arms. As she looked up at him, the pain and sadness that filled her eyes somehow coexisted with that familiar glimmer she only reserved for him, sending a fluttery feeling in his chest and a stroke of courage through his body.

“I love you,” he whispered, the words escaping his lips before his brain could even realize it. Her face fell with surprise, and tears refilled her eyes as he brought a hand to cup her cheek. His thumb swiped fragilely against her jaw as silence filled the room.

“I love you, Hailey” he said again, almost like he didn’t believe he said it the first time. Her mouth fell slightly agape as deep breaths sent her chest up and down steadily. Her watery eyes travelled from his eyes down to his lips, training themselves there for a moment as he took in every movement, every reaction to those words in the silence of her apartment.

In a flicker, she reached her head up and closed the space between them as her lips connected with his. She kissed him slow and steady. Her lips moved meticulously, delicately connecting and disconnecting from his as they each remained mindful of the wound on her bottom lip. It was a short kiss, but the feeling of her lips against his lingered long after she pulled away. She rested her forehead against his and stayed there as they each caught their breath. Silence surrounded them, and he felt like she could hear his heartbeat broadcasting loudly in the quiet.

“I didn’t sleep last night,” she blurted out as her eyes remained closed and her forehead stayed pressed against his. Her eyes fluttered open, meeting his as she pulled away ever so slightly. The interruption caught him by surprise, and he became nervous. He worried that it was all too much, that he had ruined things by confessing his feelings, that the kiss was just a reaction to her emotions, and that her next words would be to send him away.

“Would you lay with me?” She uttered. He breathed out a sigh of relief. In any other context, he would’ve teased her for the suggestive nature of the question, but in that moment he knew exactly what she meant. She needed rest, a moment to forget about everything that happened, and just as comforting as it was to have her in his arms, he realized the feeling went both ways.

“I don’t mean-“ she began before he interrupted.

“I know,” he told her, nodding his head softly.

“But my clothes…” he said, becoming suddenly aware of the way his damp suit was stuck to his skin. She stood, offering him a hand to stand with her. His heart stopped in his chest when she pulled the towel off of him and moved her hands to his shoulders, sliding her fingers under his blazer and dragging it down his arms. Her small hands moved to the buttons on his shirt. He nodded when she sent him a silent question of consent. His breath came out in nervous shudders when her fingers slid across his bare chest, peeling his wet shirt from his body and letting it fall onto the floor. She continued undressing him slowly. It wasn’t sexual, it wasn’t awkward, and to his surprise, he didn’t even blush when he was left standing before her in only his boxers. It was intimate, sweet even, and his breath remained unexpectedly stable through it all. She grabbed the towel from the ground with one hand and his hand with the other, leading him to her bedroom. She settled him at the end of her bed and she brought the towel to his head, gently drying the loose droplets from the ends of his short, unruly curls. His gaze remained on her eyes the entire time, trying to convince himself that what was happening was real. She climbed into her bed and he climbed in on the other side, feeling an unexpected sense of comfort despite it being their first time sharing a bed, in just his boxers no less. Under the covers, she curled her body into his side. He wrapped his arm protectively around her and her hand came to rest against his chest. He grasped it in his, noting how small it was, rubbing his thumb gently over her bruised fingers.

“Thank you for coming here... making sure I was okay,” she whispered into his chest.

“Thank you for being okay,” he muttered back. She looked up, bringing her lips to the side of his jaw briefly before settling her head back on his chest. They laid like that for a while, and eventually she succumbed to sleep.

He laid awake with her head against his bare chest, staring at the ceiling, in complete disbelief of everything that had happened. Part of him was still full of anger, ready to find Walker and put him in the ground for what he did. Another part of him wanted to lay there with her in that moment forever. Walker would get what was coming to him, but in that moment she needed him, so that’s where he’d stay. It didn’t go unnoticed that she didn’t say the words back, but he didn’t care. He finally told her how he felt. He confessed his love for her with nothing but emotion and sincerity, and he finally knew what it was like to be kissed by her, to be wrapped in her warm body, and consumed by everything she was. They certainly needed to talk, to figure out what everything that happened would mean for them, but for him, for that moment, being there with her was enough.

#upstead #jay x hailey #hailey x jay #jay halstead #hailey upton #chicago pd #upstead fic #justmypartner fics #collection of Em’s fics

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george-fabian-weasley · 4 years

Text

Oliver Wood - Shoot My Shot

Summary: You and Oliver Wood have been enemies since your first Quidditch game during your second year. You, being a Slytherin makes it far harder to find a liking to the Gryffindor boy, yet somehow you managed to do so. While playing a Quidditch match of Slytherin against Gryffindor, you decided to shoot your shot, literally and figuratively.

Words: 2,522 words

Warning ⚠ : Cheesy, Fluff, Only the Good Stuff, The Sexual Tension Is Real™

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"Oi, Wood!" You shouted as you looked up. The Slytherin Quidditch Team had just arrived to the field to have a few hours of practice for an upcoming match against Gryffindor. As if they have been summoned, the Gryffindor Team had just finished their practice. Oliver Wood, the captain slash Keeper for the team looked down to see you, and snickered, “Y/L/N!”

As he flew down, he smirked at you and your team, “What’s the occasion here, lads?” You scoffed, glaring at him, “What do you think, Wood? Doing a theater play?”

He laughed, “Now, why so tense, Y/L/N? Did someone put Puking Pastilles inside your drink?” You rolled your eyes as you folded your arms, “No, but I do remember a pair of redheads sneaking Dungbombs under my bed a couple of days ago. Any idea who they are, Wood?”

As if on cue, the Weasley twins came swooping down laughing hysterically, Oliver was obviously trying to hide a laugh by hiding his lips, “N-nope, no idea, sorry.”

Oh, he definitely knew.

“Funny.” You sneered, when suddenly a certain small body flying around caught your attention. “Is that...?” You trailed off, squinting to look better. Oliver followed your eyes and shrugged, “Harry Potter? Yeah.”

You gave him a look, and he understood it completely, sighing, “I know the chiseler’s a first year but McGonagall wanted him to be a Seeker. Can’t say no now, can I?”

You shrugged back, “No matter, we’ll simply beat your arses this time at the match.” You smirked, and Oliver mirrored your expression with a scoff. “Oh yeah?” He walked closer, almost looked like he was about to kiss you.

You had a silent staring match, his eyes on you and vice versa. If anyone didn’t know better, they’d say you two were lovebirds. With a soft smirk on his lips, he inched closer to you, his nose slightly grazing your cheek.

“We’ll see about that, Y/L/N.” He whispered closely to your ear, the breeze of his breath hit your ear softly. He inched away and gave you a wink, a playful one as he walked away with the rest of his team.

You huffed in annoyance, seeing his obnoxiously fit body slowly disappearing into the ring. You won’t ever admit to anyone, not even a single soul, at how he had you so bothered.

In a good way.

You turned around to your team who witnessed the whole thing, some of them playfully smirking at you. You sneered in disgust, “What are you idiots looking at? And what the bloody hell are you waiting for? Practice!” At your command, your teammates fleeted away on their brooms to their designated places, leaving you alone on the ground.

You took a few deep breaths trying to calm your heart down, but with bloody Oliver Wood out there simply existing, you found your heart picking up its pace. You groaned in annoyance at the flustered heartbeat, yet you couldn’t sneak away the small shy smile your lips had etched on.

After practice, you returned to the Slytherin common room. You were exhausted, everything was a mess. As a beater, you used the nerve-wrecking excitement Oliver Wood caused you to have earlier for the better, by beating the Bludger as hard as you can.

One of the reasons you love Quidditch, it allows you to express your anger and frustrations, and sometimes excitement, through something else without hurting anyone else, well, involuntarily.

UGH.

The Quidditch match between Slytherin and Gryffindor will be held in two days, you have no time to fawn over Oliver Wood, no matter how handsome, or witty, or funny, or-

You slapped yourself with a nearby pillow, physically shooing away those unholy thoughts. ‘You’re the bloody captain, for Merlin’s sake! You can’t be thirsting over the captain of the opposing team!’ Your mind shouted.

Yeah, as if you didn’t know that already.

Suddenly, someone tapped you on the shoulder. You looked up from the dark green pillow to see a little boy with metallic blonde slicked back hair.

You sighed, “If you’re here to be a part of the Quidditch team, then you know my answer-” “But if Potter can join in first-year, then I can too!” Draco Malfoy retaliated.

“Yeah, but Potter is a Gryffindor whose teacher is Minerva McGonagall, Draco. You really think Mr. Severus Snape would allow a first year to join Quidditch?” You asked him back in a tired tone. This wasn't the first time Draco had asked you to join the Quidditch team as soon as he found out Harry joined. And seems like it’s not going to be the last either. You saw his eyes darted away for a few moment to think, then he reverted them back to you sadly, “But Y/N...”

You felt pity for the boy, sometimes you felt like he feels inclined to beat Potter in everything he does. And being his older cousin doesn’t help, because you knew how severe Uncle Lucius can get around the little boy. If it weren’t for your parents, you would’ve taken Draco under your wings as your little brother already.

“Look, Draco...” You sighed, trying your best to be understanding towards the boy, even if he gets on your nerve sometimes. “My answer is still no, but you can join in next year if you want it that terribly. Terrence Higgs is graduating and won’t be here next year, so there would be an empty spot for a Seeker. The best I can do is save you a spot.” You offered. He sighed, and grumbled a ‘fine’.

“But if I don’t get it next year, my father will hear about this!” “Your father is my uncle, Draco. The one telling him first would be me, do you understand?” You voiced out sternly, Draco cowered immediately at your dominance. “Yes, Y/N.” He said quietly.

“Now run along, Draco. Your friends are waiting.” you softened your voice to him. He left, and you sighed. Sometimes, you needed to be stern to that boy, or else he’s going to treat everyone like his minions. 11 years old and already sound as snobbish as his father, sigh.

The next day, Slytherin and Gryffindor shared a classroom for Transfiguration class by Professor McGonagall. Unfortunately, she made everyone sit with the opposite house. And guess where she placed you?

“What’s with the long face, Y/L/N?” Oliver snickered as you moved to sit beside him. You gave him a sickly sweet smile, before frowning again, “Neither of us want to be here, so shut it.” You muttered.

“Oh no, darling, I want to be here. The one who doesn’t is you.” He chuckled as he supported his head with his arm, turning himself completely towards you. You grimaced, in spite of the increased heartbeat over the nickname, “Is this how you flirt, Wood? It’s so pathetic.”

Oliver smirked and leaned to you ridiculously close, “Oh yeah? Then why are you blushing?”

?????!!!!!!!!

You scoffed in surprise, the audacity of this lad made you speechless. And then you felt it. The heat rushing up your cheeks, making it glow red. The blush in your cheeks just widened his smirk, “If I’m being correct here, Y/N Y/L/N, you look like you like me.” He whispered and bit his bottom lip.

You rolled your eyes at his attempt of embarrassing you more. Despite your heartbeat going crazy, you won’t let him cod you. So you leaned closer, Oliver was obviously surprised and stunned, your noses were almost rather touching each other, as you whispered, “And so, what if I do? What do you do then, Oliver?”

You had never called him Oliver. You both knew that.

“Mr Wood and Ms Y/L/N,” McGonagall’s voice made you both flinch away rather quickly. “I would really appreciate if you could continue your love drama somewhere else and focus on my class, thank you.”

“Sorry, Ma’am.” You heard Oliver mutter, as he glanced at you with rosy cheeks. You couldn’t dare to spare him another glance throughout the whole class.

What the bloody hell was that?

Next day came like a pop, and you were getting ready to throw everything in to the match. The last Gryffindor vs Slytherin match, you had won. And you were definitely certain to repeat that once again. After putting on your uniforms and safety gear, you went outside to the pitch. The whole school was there cheering you on. The jitters from before had flown out of the window, the adrenaline was now kicking in. You flew on your broomstick to the air, all of your other teammates were already there, the other Beater in your team nodded at you, and you nod back.

Looking to your front, Fred and George Weasley smirking nastily at you.Those two were as violent as a bloody honey badger when it comes to Quidditch, you groaned as you imagined the pain those rascals will be giving you soon. At the far back of the Gryffindor Team, was Oliver Wood, already at his post, the middle goal. As he caught your eyesight, he winked and mouthed, "Good luck." You smirked at him and just motioned your thumb across your neck, causing him to scoff.

The whistle started, the Bludger was released, the cheers erupted, and the game has begun.

You flew everywhere to keep the Bludger off of your teammates as your Chasers tried to goal some scores. A Gryffindor, Lee Jordan was the commentator of the day, and you could hear his shouts and comments on your every move. Knowing how distracting that could be, you tried your best to block his voice and focus on the game. With the bat in your hand, you swung the Bludger with it with full force to one of the Gryffindor Chasers, but they were saved by the twins.

Once in a while, you would glance at Oliver, watching him catching every single quaffle and toss it back out to the field, successfully protecting his goal. You always knew Oliver Wood is a great Keeper, but Merlin, he sure did shine that day.

The game continued until the second half, time out. You flew down and drank a hella lot of water and cast a pain relief charm on your left arm. One of the Weasleys had Bludgered your arm pretty nastily, and you weren't too keen to find out whether it's broken or not. After muttering "Lenio," to the rest of your body, you flew back out. The score currently was 20 to 30, Gryffindor was leading.

Either your Seeker gets the Snitch, or your Chasers score another 2 goals to win this match.

Suddenly, you got an idea. It's a pretty terrible idea, but an idea nonetheless. What if you distract Oliver Wood so your team can shoot goals? 'That's a stupid idea, Y/N.' Your heart voiced out, but hey, either go big or go home.

So you went on with your plan once the whistle started. As you Bludgered one of the twins (consider it karma), you flew close to Oliver, who eyed you curiously. "Decided to visit me in the middle of the game, Y/L/N?" He said loudly, the cheering made it harder to converse.

"If I win this match," you said loudly, sort of multi-tasking as one of the Weasleys tried to Bludger you again as you beat the Bludger off with your bat. Oliver faced you, waiting for you to go on.

"If you win this match...?" "If I win this match, you owe me a date to Hogsmeade!"

Oliver had his eyes widened, "A what?" He managed to say before swerving another quaffle out of his goalpost. Your teammates were now eye-ing you in confusion, what the bloody hell are you doing there at Gryffindor's goalpost rather than protecting your teammates?!

"A date!" You shouted. For a second, Oliver was in a blur and then cracked up a big smile, "And if you lose?" he remarked. You rolled your eyes, the small grin your lips widened significantly, "If I lose, then it's your choice!"

After that you went back to your original position, ignoring the glares of your teammates. The game went on until Harry Potter had caught the Snitch, spitting it out from his mouth.

Gryffindor won.

As disappointed as you were that you lost, you were more disappointed over the fact that Oliver now owes you nothing.

... Maybe your plan wasn't to distract him all along.

After the match had finished, you found yourself at the hospital wing, tending to your broken arm. Madam Pomfrey had said if it weren't for the pain relief charm, you wouldn't even be able to hold a broomstick mid-air without immense pain. The Weasleys were beside you seemingly injured as well, and you shook their hands professionally before they left.

It's just a game. Good sportsmanship is far better than continuous winning streaks.

"Y/N." You looked up to see Oliver, standing near your hospital bed. You groaned in embarrassment, "You owe me nothing, Wood. Now go away." "Yeah, about that," Oliver was fiddling with his sleeves, his broomstick was placed between his armpit and arm. Oliver Wood looked... Nervous?

"You said before that if you lose, then I get to decide, right?" He said, furrowing his eyebrows at you, licking his lips. You slowly nodded, already thinking of possible things he'd want you to do.

Oh no, does he want you to run around the hallway naked? Or does he want you to cast 'Riddikulus' to Snape? Or does he want you to be the Bludger puppet for the twins for a week? Or-

"You owe me a date to Hogsmeade."

W...what?

You were now a blushing mess. Both of you. "B-but I thought you hated me?" you asked, the heartbeat of yours was really close to a rhythm of a heavy rain. Oliver widened his eyes in shock, denying that thoroughly, "No, I don't! I actually... like you since the second year. You know, after the match?"

You remembered your first Quidditch match in your second year, that was the first time you ever laid eyes on Oliver. Both of you had broken an arm and a leg, and your beds were side by side. For 2 days, you had talked to each other like friends, but as soon as your senior came by and visited you, he prohibited you to talk to a filthy Gryffindor. Being brainwashed since young, both of you hated each other.

Well, at least you thought so.

"So... What do you say?" He asked, looking rather nervous again. You were speechless, your lips were suddenly dry, you were suddenly conscious of how you looked like at the moment. "Wait, so all those times, like at McGonagall's class and at the field, you really were flirting?"

He grimaced in cringe, rubbing his neck and looking away, "I guess you were right about my flirting being pathetic." He laughed shyly. That made you laugh, it made you break out from that awkward phase you had just now. "But you were right, though?" You teased, tilting your head to him playfully, smiling genuinely to the boy.

"I do like you."

COMPLETE!

#oliver wood x reader #oliver wood #oliverwood #harry potter imagines #draco malfoy #weasley twins #hogwarts #quidditch

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capcarolsdanver · 3 years

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Why Her? (Part 1)

Summary: This fic is based off a request from an anon after some speculations that have been made on my blog.

Brie enlists the help of the reader to get a date with a girl that reader knows from class, only for unexpected feelings to be caught. Drama/angst/fluff to come! Pairing: Brie x Reader A/N: Oops accidentally took another way too long break from posting. I was still writing during this time, trying to structure some kind of schedule, but every time I reread my writing I always end up wanting to rewrite most of what I have, which is exactly what happened with this one. This is part 1 of 4, more of an intro than anything. Part 2 coming very soon!

As always, feedback is always appreciated so please let me know what you think, or even any suggestions you have for future parts! It is all written but I’m open to making some adjustments if people have any good ideas to bring to the story!

Please do not repost my writing anywhere without my permission.

PART 2 | PART 3 | PART 4

You take another generous sip from the coffee cup in your hands, practically cradling it as if it’s your most prized possession. Although, that’s what you would be inclined to referred to it as in this moment. You relied on coffee during most of your days at the best of times, but even more so while you’re nursing a hangover like the one you currently have.

You groan quietly to yourself when you realise you’ve reached the last drop of your precious caffeinated drink, placing the cup on the table in front of you and dropping your head into your arms in probably the most dramatic fashion you can muster.

You vaguely acknowledge the sound of footsteps getting louder as they approach you but you quickly dismiss them as yet another student walking passed your table in the campus library and choose to ignore in favour continuing to feel sorry for yourself. You take note to never sit at one of the tables closest to the entrance again. Foot traffic has quickly become your least favourite thing.

It suddenly occurs to you that you can no longer hear the footsteps. How long had you been zoned out for? Surely whoever the footsteps belong to couldn’t have already passed you without any other sound.

“Hey Y/N, how’s it going?”

The voice beside you isn’t over the top loud or anything, but it still doesn’t stop you from jumping in your seat, your head springing up. You instantly wince, warily bringing your fingers to your temples in a useless attempt to ease your pounding headache.

The girl standing by your table, Sarah, scrunches her features in apology.

“Sorry,” she sheepishly apologises. “I did see you at the party last night. Didn’t think you were much of a drinker, though.”

“I’m usually not, especially when I have class the next morning,” you grumble. “Last night was a mistake that will never happen again.”

Sarah laughs quietly, clearly trying to be mindful of your current state. “I figured I’d find you here this morning. I just have one question about class and then I promise I’ll leave you in peace and quiet again.”

“Shoot,” you say in as pleasant a tone as you can manage, deciding to spare her from your complaints about how not at all quiet the library of all places has proven to be so far that morning.

Sarah smiles a grateful smile and sits opposite you before asking a question about some paper you had received in your shared class the previous day. You can barely comprehend what she’s asking you but you answer as best as you can, which seems to be enough because Sarah is again smiling brightly and standing from her seat.

“Thanks, Y/N. I owe you one.”

“How about telling me how the hell you avoid getting a hangover. I saw you last night too. I swear you drank more than everybody else combined.”

Sarah chuckles and turns to leave. “Call it talent,” she says, waving over her shoulder as she retreats.

You wave back and watch her leave.

You wouldn’t necessarily call the two of you “friends”, but you and Sarah share an English class together and you seem to find yourself at the same get togethers and parties frequently, and had always gotten along well enough. You were sure if you actually took the time to hang out together you would probably be easy friends.

You take a heavy breath and release it when you realise you’re alone again, and just barely start feeling sorry for yourself again before a figure is slumping into the chair next to you with absolutely no consideration to your clearly less than ideal state.

You jump even more than when Sarah had startled you and your hand flies to your heart.

“Oh my god!” you exclaim. Your body was so not prepared for these kinds of interactions today.

“Sorry,” the girl says, kindly enough but with much less sincerity than Sarah. You don’t recognise her and you look at her with wide eyes, trying to figure out who she is.

“Can I help you?”

“Yes, actually,” she says, apparently missing the bite in your tone, or just choosing to ignore it. “That girl you were just talking to. You’re friends with her, right?”

You instinctively look in the direction of the main entrance, where Sarah had disappeared through just moments go.

“Uh, kinda?” You reply, unsure. “I guess. I mean, we have a class together but-“ you interrupt yourself, remembering that you have no idea who this stranger is or what she wants. “I’m sorry, what exactly do you want from me?”

“I was wondering if you could help me get a date with her.” She says it so matter-of-factly that she doesn’t seem to recognise how entirely strange her words are. All you can do is blink at her in response.

“Excuse me?”

You have never actually considered that Sarah could be interested in women. Sure, she was an attractive girl and she was always nothing but friendly to you, but for whatever reason you just weren’t interested in her in that way. And now that you think about it, you’ve never actually seen her with anyone else, not even at any of the parties you’d attended.

The girl in front of you, however, obviously had considered it, and had somehow come to the conclusion that Sarah was interested in dating women.

“Do you even know her?” You ask.

“Not at all. Why do you think I’m asking for your help?”

“I don’t know, why don’t you tell me?” You have to admit that you’re still confused by her request. She seemed confident enough coming here to talk to you. So why would she need any help talking to Sarah?

“Oh, I’m like, notoriously bad at talking to women I’m interested in,” she easily explains. “I can’t flirt for the life of me and I’m way too awkward to try to convince a girl that she definitely wants to leave a party with me.”

You’re left without a response once more, blinking at the girl as she offers you a half smile and watches you. After a long moment, she seems to remember something, sitting up straighter to regard you again.

“Oh! I’m Brie by the way!” She holds out her hand towards you and you drop your eyes to stare at it for a moment, your hungover brain working at half speed before you realise she’s offering to shake your hand.

Your hand grips hers weakly and she shakes it with her own. Her handshake is firm yet gentle, though you don’t really know what to look for in a good handshake. Brie seems to hold back a laugh at the awkwardness of the situation.

“And you are…?” She regards you with a raised eyebrow.

“Oh! I’m Y/N.” You shake your head as if you were clearing the fog inside of it. “Sorry. It’s been a bit of a rough morning.” You force a chuckle. She squints her eyes at you for a moment before a look of recognition flashes across her face.

“Ah, I thought I recognised you. You were at that party last night, right?”

You look at her in surprise. Usually, no one ever seems to recognise or remember you from any of the parties you attend. You’d always been a loner to some level. Not totally socially inept but enough so that you generally flew under the radar quite easily.

You nod. “I’m sorry but I don’t remember seeing you there.”

“Yeah, by the time I showed up you seemed pretty plastered,” she chuckles and your cheeks immediately flush. You hadn’t meant to drink so much the previous night, but what started out as a couple of drinks had very quickly multiplied the more you had allowed yourself to wallow in your own self pity. You uncharacteristically had let the fact that you were at yet another party alone get to you.

Brie seems to notice your discomfort because she thankfully has the decency to move the conversation on fairly quickly.

“So, you think you can help me?”

You’d completely forgotten the reason why she had even started talking to you in the first place, but your brain eventually catches up and your eyebrows lift when you remember her request.

“Oh. Um…”

“Okay, listen,” Brie interrupts, watching you with amusement in her eyes. “I’ve gotta go. But if you decide you might want to help me, here’s my number.”

She grabs the notebook that you forgot you even had open in front of you and slides it across the table towards herself. She quickly scribbles her phone number in the corner of the open page and slides the notebook back towards you.

Brie stands up, considering you for a moment before she reaches into her bag that’s slung over her shoulder. You’re still several steps behind, looking down at the set of numbers she had written in your notebook, when she drops two aspirins in front of you. You startle, looking up at her and finding her smirking down at you.

“Take these, they’ll make you feel better. And maybe they'll convince you to help me, too,” she says, barely giving you a second to respond before she, too, is leaving you alone at the table.

You sit in stunned silence for a few moments until your eyes drift towards the large clock on the wall opposite you and you catch sight of the time. If you don’t leave now, you’ll definitely be late for your first class of the day. You half consider your options, wondering how much you’d really miss if you just skipped one class in favour of going back to your dorm to nap.

Eventually you let out a deep sigh and stand up, knowing you’ll just end up beating yourself up later if you let yourself miss a class because of your poor choices from the previous night. You quickly throw your belonging into your book bag, only pausing to look at the two aspirins Brie had left for you. You pick them up and quickly swallow them down with a gulp of water from your water bottle before you’re rushing out of the library doors and towards your class.

#brie larson x reader #brie larson fic #brie larson imagine #captain marvel #mcu imagine #brie larson #mine #fic

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