#shrug!!! if youre reading this we are sitting down in the grass together

[disasterofastory]

What about Legolas x F!reader? Maybe she is a friend of Eomer and Legolas gets jealous about all the time they stay together? And some hot moment? I don't know, this is just an Idea. So, I'm sorry for my bad english but I'm Italian. Have a good day❤️

Just a reminder Legolas x Reader Warnings: jealousy, smut

Summary: Legolas reminds you of the reasons you are with him.

A/N: Please don't be sorry for your English. I know the struggle. :)

The grassland is covered in a bright golden hue as the sun reaches the top of the clear blue sky. The lush, green grass waves like the ocean as a breeze runs through the peaceful scenery. Everything is so quiet and calm. It is almost impossible to believe the dark power that works and marches forward underneath it all. The warm rays of the sun caress your bare arms and your cheeks. The tree you lean against is tall and strong, bending its branches to the will of the slight wind. The rustle of the leaves is a sweet whisper in your ear as you focus on the story in front of you. The book is a pleasant weight on your lap. The pages are old and thin between your fingers.

"What are you reading?" Legolas's voice breaks your concentration, but you feel nothing but happiness as you turn your eyes from the long row of words to the tall elf standing a few meters away from you. "Just a book," you shrug. "Tales for children." "Are they good?" He asks, sitting down next to you with a few elegant movements. "You know how it is," you hum, closing the book and putting it on the ground. "The good always wins, and the bad guys pay for their misdeeds as they should." "It was easier to believe in it when we were kids, no?" The elf asks. You can almost see his blue eyes darkening with ominous thoughts. "Sometimes it's harder when you are an adult, yes," you reply, reaching out for his hand to link your fingers together. "But there is always hope." "I heard you will go with Gandalf." "Yes," you nod. "He thinks Eomer will listen to me." A slight frown appears between his brows. His lips turn into a thin line. "Are you friends with the rider?" "Something like that, yes." "When we met them, he asked you to come with them." You barely recognized him when your way met with the riders during your search for the hobbits. You smile and nod in confirmation. "Why are these questions?" "Why didn't you? Went with them, I mean." "You are my home, Legolas," you reply, squeezing his hand in yours. "I won't leave you." "But you will go with Gandalf." "He asked me," you reason, getting a little bit confused. Something is off with Legolas, but you can't find out what. "And it's just for a few days. We need every help we can get." "Are you sure?" He asks. He feels selfish, and guilt eats him up inside because of it, but he can't help himself. He knows orcs and death will wait for you in Helm's Deep, but he can't bear the thought of you staying with the riders. With Eomer. "Legolas," you say his name softly, cupping his cheek with your free hand. Your thumb caresses the soft skin under his eye. "Of course, I will come back to you. There is nothing that can keep me away from you." He smiles at your words. The slight curve of his lips gives him something angelic and ethereal that you can never get used to. You still don't understand how the elven prince can love you, a simple mortal, but he does, and you stopped questioning it years ago.

Soon, his lips find yours, and the kiss that always starts so gently is impatient and rushing now. His hand lands on the back of your head to keep you close, while his tongue slips into your mouth with ease. He invites you to a dance that's intimate and familiar. "Don't get me wrong," you hum when he breaks away. His breath still fans over your lips. It smells like ale and fruits. "I love your kisses, but you still don't tell me something." Now, the guilt is transparent on his delicate features, and he looks down at your intertwined fingers. The small gesture makes his years younger. "I just…" he sighs. "I just don't want you to find something with the rider that will make you stay with them… with him." "Oh, my love," you laugh, pecking his lips when you notice the slight blush spreading on his cheeks. "There is nothing that makes me stay where you aren't." Your words are followed by another kiss. It's feverish and bruising and makes you lose your breath for long seconds. His hand finds the loose curls at the nape of your neck, and before you know it, you are lying on the grass with Legolas above you. When he looks into your eyes, the glint you know so well by now is back in his bright blue irises. "I love you," he says, caressing the line of your jaw. "I love you too," you hum against his lips before gasping at his sudden touch. " What are you doing?" "Just a reminder of what I can do to you." He bares your legs with a few quick pulls on your dress until his hand finds its way between your thighs. "Legolas," you gasp again, looking around your surroundings. "What if someone sees us?" "I will hear them before they can see us," he promises. "Do you trust me?" The question makes your legs spread open before his caressing touch. "Of course."

His lips wander down your neck, caressing the soft skin there with slow, lazy kisses while his long fingers find their way to your center after pushing your panties aside. His fingertips slide over your fold easily. Your wetness soaks him within a few seconds. "You are so wet already," he hums. His words flutter in your chest. Your heart thuds against your ribcage. "Legolas," you pant his name, grabbing his shoulder. Your other hand tries to find some support on the ground. The grass is soft under your touch. "I'm here, love," he replies. "And I won't go anywhere until you cum around my fingers." Your eyes fall shut as the pleasure flares through your body. It burns your veins and spins the world around you. His thumb draws small circles on your clit, helping you to chase your orgasm. His breath fans over your neck, and his voice make you tremble some more. "Who makes you feel this good?" He asks, and when you don't answer immediately, he doesn't wait to push two fingers inside your aching hole. Your head falls back, and a moan breaks up from your throat. "Say my name, Y/N," the elf demands. "Let everyone hear who you belong to." His name leaves your lover's name in breathless whines as his hand speeds up between your legs. He pushes you to the edge and doesn't give you enough time to process what's happening. "Cum, Y/N," Legolas says. "Make a mess on my hand. Give me something to remember while you are far away from my arms."

Pleasure washes over you as the burning coil snaps in your lower belly. Your muscles jerk, and your breath stops for a long second. Your orgasm comes quickly and powerfully. It feels like Legolas's arms are the only things that keep you in one piece.

When you open your eyes, you see him licking your juices off his fingers. A satisfied smile plays on his lips the whole time. "You will get more when we meet again," he promises.

#legolas imagine #legolas x reader #legolas smut #lotr smut #lotr imagine #lotr x reader #the lord of the rings x reader #the lord of the rings imagine

[captainpulisic]

darling, you’re the one I want! - m. mount

this is for my best friend in honor of her birthday (who else would get a invisible string/ timeless alluded fic?). m, thank you for being my other half, and for being the first to always read and support everything I write. we'll get mushy later, together. love, d gif credits to owner, wc 3.2 k

it’s like a scene out of a fairytale.

no, scratch that. this was better than any fairytale you had ever read as a child. all the dreamy prince charmings that you had fantasised would come and whisk you away to a castle, were nothing compared to mason. all the countless tales of romances and happily ever afters, had never prepared you for the way your heart would stutter when being in masons proximity.

it had been a beautiful day, clear skies and a cool breeze ruffling the leaves of the trees that surrounded you. tucked away from prying eyes, mason had settled this picture perfect picnic at the park not too far from your flat. 

we both only get so many days off, he had squeezed your hand as he guided you through the park. we should spend it together, doing something just for us. 

you couldn’t help but watch in awe as he laid out a blanket for the both of you to sit down on, carefully placing the picnic basket on the ground. he had gone all out. it was all very delicate, him being so attentive as he took out plates and utensils. then came the variety of fruits, snacks and other food for both of you to indulge in. it was all so detailed, so thoughtfully planned out.

“I broke a few wine glasses when I tried shoving them into the basket,” his cheeks tinted as he spoke. with a bashful smile and an awkward laugh, he pulled out two paper cups. “so we’re going to be using these.”

“how romantic,” you over exaggeratedly sighed, putting a hand over your heart.

“oh, you haven’t seen romance yet.” mason reverts his attention back to the basket, searching for who knows what. after a few seconds of digging through it, he pulls out a few paper straws. “a straw for the lady.”

you can’t help but snort, “i’m swooning!”

as you begin to pile an assortment of food on both your plates, mason tasks himself with filling both cups with a good amount of wine. basking in the sunlight and rejoicing in the lack of clouds, you couldn’t help but marvel at how lovely the day was. 

no work, no school, no distractions. just you and mason. there was nothing that could top how at peace you felt in that exact moment. 

unbeknownst to you, mason was the complete opposite. he kept hoping you wouldn’t see through his cool facade and ruin the big day he had planned. he was antsy, jittery. no matter how much wine he consumed, his nerves wouldn’t settle down. his fingers kept ghosting over the small, velvet box in his front pocket. gods, he hoped that wasn’t a dead giveaway to you. 

after watching the hours waste away, you’d both found yourselves with an empty bottle of wine and full hearts and stomachs. sitting down side by side, you both had your legs stretched out, pushing past the border of the blanket. absentmindedly, you kept bumping your foot against his. 

“I love this place so much,” you mused with content sigh. your hand reached out to brush the grass on your side. stealing a quick glance towards mason, your cheeks warm up when you see how focused his gaze is on you. “back when I first moved here, I used to spend hours in this park. I would walk around, lay on the grass, or just sit on a bench and wait.”

you feel silly telling him this. it was all just girlhood dreams of fairytales and prince charmings. 

“wait for what?” his hand brushes yours, ever so lightly. it’s comforting and encouraging for you to continue. 

“love, I guess.” it feels even sillier saying it outloud. shaking your head and letting out a self-deprecating laugh, you wave him off. oh well, if there’s one person you’d confide your childish fantasies to, it’d be mason. there’s no one else you’d trust more. you shrug, “I don’t know, I just found the idea so romantic that I'd meet the love of my life here. that, maybe, when I'd least expect it, I would bump into someone and just know that they were my soulmate. that all the waiting was worth it because they’d been out there, looking for me. and it’d be so romantic, how we were both out in the world, unaware of each other's existence, but deep down we knew we’d find each other.”

looking back at mason, you see how still he’s gotten, how quiet he’s become.

“I was on my way to you,” he says slowly, softly. you hadn’t noticed the moment he had intertwined your hands in his, yet there he was giving you reassuring squeezes. lifting it up, he leaves a gentle kiss on the back of your hand. “I was looking for you.”

“you found me.” they’re shy smiles, the ones you’re giving to each other. few words said with heavy meaning behind them, it’s become sickly sweet. one last tap to his foot with your own, “and it took you long enough.”

he leans in, this kiss directed to the corner of your mouth. mumbling into your skin, “my silly girl.”

instead of replying, you give his hand one last squeeze before letting go and lying back down on the blanket. you let your eyes close as you sigh once more, “I really do love it here.”

it becomes quiet for a second. then you hear mason rustling next to you, yet you don’t bother to open your eyes. you’re too content with your position and situation. mason clears his throat but then gets quiet again. he does this two more times. my sweet boy, you’re about to blindly reach for his hand and coax him to lay down with you, when he finally speaks up.

“I know you love this place,” he takes another deep breath. you instantly hear the nervousness in his voice, “er, that’s actually why I brought you here, today.”

curiosity gets the best of you, making you peek one eye open. 

big mistake. the sight that’s in front of you makes your heart do somersaults and backflips.

there mason is, your beautiful boy, down on one knee with a small box in his hand. you barely notice the box, though, too caught up in the way he’s looking at you. immediately, you’re sitting up, becoming eye level with him.

“from the very first date,” he begins. you want to make a quip about how much his hands are fidgeting, yet refrain when you realize yours are no better. he’s speaking slowly, adding emphasis to every word. “I called my mum and told her I'd found the girl I was going to marry. hell, the next time I saw the lads, I told them you were the future missus.”

you’re awestruck, “oh, mase.”

“from the beginning, I told everyone I was going to marry you one day.” his unoccupied hand reaches for yours, once again. he’s squeezing it as if his life depended on it and you reciprocate the action. “’m sorry it took me a couple years to actually keep true to my word. I just- I just wanted to become the best man I could be. I wanted to make sure I was someone who deserved to call you his wife.”

you pause for a moment, trying to process what was happening. you dig your nails into the palms of your hand, trying to stop yourself from shaking even more. the tears won’t stop from falling down your cheeks. when the fuck did I start crying? half of you wants to laugh and the other half wants to start weeping. and the many paper cups of wine you had are definitely not helping. any other day, you'd curse yourself for being so silly, but the sight of mason down on one knee has you caring about nothing but him. and the glossy eyed stare he’s giving you isn’t helping. 

“you said you’d wait for your soulmate because you knew they were out there. and they were. I was.” giving him a watery smile, you nod for him to continue. every word he says tugs at your heartstrings. he’s gone onto rambling but you don’t mind because it’s all so perfect. “but the truth is, I had never really believed in soulmates. I thought it was all a load of rubbish. but meeting you and getting the chance to love you, I know I was a proper idiot. of course soulmates exist and I know you’re mine. I know we were meant to find each other. and if I was too unlucky to never have found you, I know I'd spend my whole life being miserable and wondering where you were. all this time, waiting for each other, I'd gladly wait all over again if it meant I got you in the end.”

all you can repeat through your tears, “oh mason.”

“y/n, my y/n.” he opens up the small velvet box, unveiling the prettiest ring you’d ever seen. it was perfect, and quite suitable to your taste. he knew you so well, it made you want to weep even more. looking back up at mason, you saw all the emotions he was going through. hopeful eyes looking into your lovestruck ones, “will you, please, marry me?”

both you and mason know your answer. there’s no doubt about it. nonetheless, you manage to cry out a “yes,” and an “of course, I’ll marry you.”

of course you would, there was no question about it. 

yet, masons face fills up with a mixture of relief and joy. helping the both of you off the ground, he wraps his arms around you and lifts you up. spinning you around, his lips capture yours as repeatedly mumbles into your mouth thank you thank you thank you.

there’s tears and laughter and kisses and just pure happiness as you embrace each other. 

pulling away, mason gets the ring out of the box, ready to finally place it on your finger. after months of looking at hundreds of rings that varied in style and cut, you were finally going to wear it and become his fiancee. 

fiancee.

fiancee.

fiancee.

yes, he could get used to calling you that. well, up until he’s able to call you his wife. then he’ll never be able to stop calling you that.

what the fuck, mason frowns to himself. as he had started to slide the ring onto your finger, it became stuck. right up to the knuckle, it wouldn’t budge a millimeter. 

“uhm,” he tries to laugh it off. attempting to successfully slide it on again, you can see him internally freaking out as it won’t move. “this shouldn’t be happening.”

one more try. one more failure.

beginning to profusely swear, “I can’t believe I got the wrong ring size.”

“mason, it’s oka-”

he pouts, “’m such a bloody idiot!”

“no, you’re not.”

“I am,” he deadpans. 

“mason, no.”

“I can’t believe I fucked this up,” he’s stressed, running his fingers through the ends of his hair. you hate seeing him so frustrated, hate seeing how quick he is to beat himself up. the curse words are flowing like lava from his mouth. “I had one fucking job and I didn’t even do it right.”

“baby, it’s okay.” you can’t help but laugh at the situation. you’re still over the moon, with tear filled eyes over the proposal. and here he is, berating himself for such a simple mistake. trying to ease him, “it’s not your fault, i’m sure this happens all the time.”

“no, y/n. you don’t understand.” he’s frustrated, holding the too small ring between his fingers. there is nothing but disdain and disappointment in his gaze. all he can do is shake his head, “I did my research, it’s supposed to be a perfect fit.”

your arms still around him, you lean up to nuzzle your head into the crook of his neck. you know nothing can ruin how happy you are. damned be the ring, mason loved you and he wanted to marry you. who gives a fuck about anything else?

he’s rambling again, “I did everything I could. I took so many of your rings and gave them to the jeweler so he’d know your exact size. I really did plan this out.”

it should be impossible how quick your head turns to look at him, “you took my rings?”

“yeah,” he trails off, still fidgeting with the ring, too distraught to notice your questioning look.

“I told you I thought my sister kept stealing my stuff every time she came to visit and you said she probably was.”

“yeah,” now he’s looking at you like you’re the crazy one. with a puzzled expression, “and?” 

“mason!” you lightly shove his shoulder, in jest. you want to be upset, but how can you be? the more bizarre this becomes, the more endearing you find it. he’d gone through so much trouble to make this as sweet as possible, it was too much for your heart. 

“what?” he throws his hands up, in defense. “I did what I had to!”

you tease, “well that clearly worked out well for you.”

“y/n!” his pout gets deeper by the second, as he kicks at a tuft of grass. “don’t torture me.”

“hey,” reaching up to grasp his chin, you force him to look down at you. it's a reflex for his hands to land on your waist, instinctively pulling you closer to him. giving him a small smile, “this doesn’t matter to me. I love you and I want to marry you and be with you forever. I don’t need a ring to prove these things.”

all mason can do is sigh softly, his hands giving your waist a squeeze. meeting your eye, he feels idiotic and embarrassed all over again. looking away, “you deserve to be wearing the ring.”

“and I will wear it, eventually!” you tilt his chin, again, forcing his eyes back on you. hoping to cheer him up, “it’s okay, we can go get it resized.”

there’s a struggle, you can see, going on in his head. processing and taking all your words into consideration, you think you’ve talked him through his sorrows. 

you should’ve knocked on wood. you should’ve crossed your fingers and bit your tongue. because all too soon, he’s huffing and pouting, again. 

“yeah, but that’s going to take a while!” he bites his lip, and those big brown eyes give you the most dejected look known to man. “in the meantime, how are people going to know you’re my fiance? I finally put a ring on it and no one’s going to know.”

 you’d laugh if you didn’t know how proper upset he was about this. 

mason continues, “my mum and dad! and your mum and dad! and our friends! they all said they wanted pictures of you wearing the ring. what ring am I going to send a picture of, hm?”

your thumb had begun to leave gentle strokes on his cheek. looking over his worried face, you know you’re going to love this boy forever. after a moment of watching him go through the five stages of grief, your own face lights up. “I have an idea.”

mason pauses the existential crisis he'd been going through, slightly confused, as you kneel down to the remnants of your picnic. he watches you sort through leftover pieces of cookies and discarded orange peels, in search of something. rummaging through the knocked over paper cups, you let out a triumphant aha as you lift up two scraps of straw wrappers. his eyes never leave your hands as you, still kneeling, begin to twist them into circles- like some sort of origami project. in seconds, you're standing back up, holding two paper rings up to him, smiling hopefully, “we can use these? and now we both get a ring.”

and this is when mason knows he, truly, will love you forever. taking one of the rings from you, he kneels down one more time. as if on cue, the tears have started for both of you, again.

holding the paper ring you had made, up to you, “will you marry me?”

you laugh, gently, nodding as he slides the ring onto your finger. it’s all tears and love, “of course, I love you so much.”

he begins to kiss your hand, on the spot just above where the ring is. he leaves a trail of a few more, up and around your wrist. his lips brush over the palm of your hand, all while his eyes never leave where the ring lays. even when you softly move your hand from his grasp, he’s in awe. 

“hmmm,” you let out a sigh as you stretch out your hand. mason sees the discontent look on your face, as you inspect the ring. oh no, what could he have fucked up this time? looking back at him, you put on your best poker face. pretending to yawn, “I usually prefer silver but I guess this’ll have to do.”

instead of answering you, mason pulls you down to the grass so you’re at his level, again. you’re both laughing messes, as he cups your face and brings his lips just above yours. “you like watching me suffer, pretty girl.”

“a tad bit,” is all you manage to get out before he captures your mouth in a deep kiss. it’s full of want and love and happiness. before, it could get any further, you lightly shove him away, before grabbing his hand. 

with the both of you kneeling, you seize the other paper ring you had made and place it on his finger. mirroring his actions, you leave a kiss on his hand. and once more, shy kisses turn into deeper ones until you both remember that can wait for later tonight. then out come the phones and you have a little too much fun, taking pictures of the homemade rings. it’s a bit funny as you both pose for a selfie, with both paper rings being shown off. it becomes even funnier when the responses sent back from family and friends are a mixture of congratulations and confusion.  

wow, you really cheaped out didn’t you, mate? ben replies in the groupchat. you have to kiss mason a few more times to stop him from texting ben to fuck off. 

on the walk back to your flat, you can’t stop marveling at the rings on both your finger. it’s caused you to almost bump into a few lampposts. lucky for you, mason is always there to guide you to safety.

stopped at a crosswalk, mason turns to you. “when we tell everyone this story, can we change a few details to make it more romantic and less fucked up?”

“what are you on about?” lightly tapping his chest, “it was the most romantic proposal, ever.”

he pouts, bumping your shoulder with his, “don’t tease.”

getting on your tiptoes, placing your hands on his shoulders, you lean in for another kiss. with a serious nod, “it was more romantic than any fairytale could ever dream of being.”

feedback is always appreciated, please and thank you. once again, happy birthday to my best friend, forever looking at the moon and thinking of you.

#mason mount fic #mason mount x you #mason mount x reader #mason mount #mason mount imagine #mason mount fluff

[ghouljams]

i was reading the tags on your latest ghost work and saw that konig (my little cutie patootie who also probably reads the terms and conditions) also has a demon. what are they like and how do they work together on field?

You sit across from König, bouncing your leg over your knee as he flips through the leather bound tome you'd summoned. His anxiety seems to have disappeared as he's settled in to focus on reading. You were getting a little worried there for a moment.

"This is very thorough," König tells you, glancing up from the book. You nod, watching his eyes slide over you. His gaze is appreciative, but in the way one might appreciate a fine piece of weaponry. You like it all the same.

"You asked for the manual, this is the manual." You wave a hand.

"It might take me a while to get through this," he says, the anxiety is starting to creep back. His finger scratches at he edge of the leather, picking at the paper as he watches you.

"I'm not going anywhere," you smile, he nods and goes back to reading. You don't need to see his face to know he's blushing, it's in the way his eyes keep darting up to look at you.

"Excellent work Colonel," you whisper in König's ear, draping yourself over his shoulder as he looks down the rifle scope, "anything I can do to help?"

"There's a man behind cover I can't get a clear shot at," König hums, rolling his shoulder under you. You don't think he's trying to shake you off, just finding a comfortable position again.

"You want me to get him?"

"I don't need him alive," König frowns, you shrug.

"Not what I said." He glances up from his scope, and seems surprised to find your face so close to his. You lean away when you feel his heart rate spike.

"Your specialty is location and retrieval is it not? How would you retrieve him dead?"

"I don't have to retrieve all of him." You tilt your head, watching the wheels in his head turn as he thinks through your words.

"So you could retrieve just his heart?"

"Fresh and beating! You want some intestine too?" You grin, König's eyes sparkle with excitement.

"Bitte, just the heart." You sink back into the shadows, following the line of König's scope to find his missing man. He's found a nifty hiding spot, cramped in to a corner of rubble and radioing for exfil. You find it all too satisfying to thrust your hand through his ribs to rip his heart out, dragging yourself back through the shadows to deposit it by König's side.

König's big body shakes, nerves just on the right side excitement, as you drop the still beating heart as promised onto the grass next to him. "Done and dusted," you tell him, running your tongue over your arm following the trail of blood. König's eyes narrow, he's pleased you think.

"How many of those could you do at once, Fetch?" He asks, pushing himself off the grass to start disassembling his rifle, the signal of a finished job. You bounce excitedly.

"As many as you could, just faster."

König settles a big hand on your head, ruffling your hair between your horns. "We are going to make a very good team, meine kleine Dämon."

#demon!darling au #könig modern warfare #könig x you #könig x reader #König's demon is called Fetch because retrieval is her specialty #he absolutely read the whole manual because he was so nervous about potentially messing her up #very excited that the universe gave him a girlfriend #hes about to become so much more deadly #Fetch is OBSESSED with König and he is so nervous around her

[thedepthsoffandomminds]

Behind the scenes - Maze runner

This is a companion piece with this fic.

(Newt) Thomas Broadie-sangster X reader. Slow burn.

Two requests that I have joined together.

Reader and Thomas could both be actors working on the same project (maybe Maze Runner). Maybe they don't really like each other at the beginning, but they have to go to a special event with the whole cast and Thomas notices that reader is uncomfortable in big crowds and he kind of starts protecting reader.

After you finish Newt x Reader do you think you can make Bloopers?😂 Of course behind the scenes/off-set TBS and Y/N are a couple

You stood beside Ki Hong as he tried to say his lines, but Dylan continued to pull silly faces behind the camera making you all laugh. Four takes later and you hear Wes telling him off which causes you all to laugh again.

Blake (who plays Chuck) is holding a pile of blankets and “Greenie” equipment below the watchtower. He lifts his hand to wave, calling out his line,

“Hey Alby!” The metal bowls and cutlery begin to fall and he tries to catch them. Though he tries to recover the blankets drop and become too heavy in one arm, more and more of the props drop to the grass. Eventually Blake gives up and just shrugs. Your laughter can be heard before you come back into the shot.

You sit between Dylan and Thomas with your backs to a log. It's a night shoot, the first of many to come, and as such you were all feeling a little tired and loopy. The scene was simply, your character and Thomas's would attempt to cheer up Dylan's. The two boys had other ideas and they both began leaning across you making it look like they were about to kiss each other. You give them both a quick flick with your hands when they pull back. Dylan drops his head to your shoulder as he laughs, Thomas, however l, pulls slightly away.

You and Dexter Darden come running into the shot, the camera placed around waist height looking up.

“Newt, what do you see?” Dexter says his line, but you slip on a patch of wet mud and though you grab at Dexter's arm you slide down, hitting the ground. All the boys, camera crew and Wes begin to cackle at your mishap. You stood up as gracefully as you could, but there was definitely a big bruise on your hip that afternoon.

Dylan helped you to hobble about between takes until there was an exchange between him and Thomas. After that Dylan mostly stayed away from you that day.

Most of you stand at the entrance to the maze, as you wait for the scene to begin. Thomas is on your left. You feel Dexter begin to dance beside you, shaking his shoulders and you instantly join in. The tiger playing Mai Mai, shakes her head and starts jumping around you, playfully. Your laughter catches Thomas's attention and he spins his head round to watch you both. A sweet smile crept onto his face.

Dylan is holding a camera in front of him with Ki Hong beside him, they are whispering to the camera.

“Hey, hey look at this,” Dylan turns the camera and quietly sneaks around the door of one of the glade huts. In the middle, on top of a blanket Thomas is lying on his side, reading a book aloud to you. You are stringing together a chord of daisy's that you then place on Thomas' head. His blonde hair and the crown makes him look like a fairy or a grecian god.

“Young love.” Dylan and Ki Hong giggle before rushing away when you notice them there.

In an interview the cast are asked who is more likely to ruin a take and almost everyone points to you.

“Hey!” You protest.

“No, literally you fall over all the time!” Kaya giggles.

“Oh yeah you're right, I have zero balance.” You agree. Dylan pretends to push you causing you to jump and almost fall from your high chair. Luckily Thomas was able to catch your arm and gently push you back into place. Your eyes meet and you share a small smile. The others catch it and a few whispers are exchanged.

The red carpet came, and you walked with the other teenagers. Your confidence was as high as everyone's with the world watching. It was great to spend time with the others again after a short break. As you walked the media line you answered questions they threw at you. For the most part they were all the same until one asked you,

“So, have there been any romances on set?”

“Oh um, no, no-”

As you're talking Dylan and Thomas walk behind you, both of them bent round and kissed you on either side of your face.

“Those two, total bromance.” You laugh.

Next part

@fandomfan-102 @deanstolemydragon @afalls14universe

#thomas brodie sangster and reader #maze runner imagine #newt x reader

[danikamariewrites]

just finished fourth wing and desperate for some liam fics in my life😩

please may i request maybe some angst with a happy ending?

(p.s i literally devoured all your works in one night i’m obsessed with your writing<3)

Sunrise

Liam Mairi x reader

A/n: I decided to do more fluff than angst. I feel like I’ve written sm angst for Liam 😅 thank you sm I’m glad you like my fics��

Warnings: homesickness

Something you always did with your mom before coming to Basgiath was watch the sunrise on special occasions. Your birthdays, favorite holidays, or just because it was Wednesday. You were feeling a little homesick and your boyfriend noticed.

Liam had been trying for days to cheer you up. He was running out of ideas and nothing seemed to be working. So he turned to your friends. Liam begged them to wrack their brains for something that you might’ve mentioned from home.

And Violet, of course, remembered your sunrises. Liam knew that’s what he had to do. He was going to take you to a nice, scenic spot and you were going to watch the sunrise together. He hopes this would work. Liam would do anything to see you genuinely smile right now.

———

You slowly stirred as Liam gently shook you awake. “Baby, baby, wake up.” You jolted up, your hands flying to Liam’s shoulders in a bone crushing grip. “What! What’s happening?” You practically screamed. He covered your mouth with his hand as she shushed you.

“You’re gunna wake up the floor.” He laughed out. You lick his palm and he quickly takes his hand away, rubbing your saliva on his pants. Now you’re fully awake laughing at your goofy boyfriend. Looking at the small clock on your bedside table which read 5:15 am.

“Why did you wake me up?” Liam smiled up at you from his kneeling position on your floor. “I have a surprise for you, come on.” He scrambles up, opening your armoire and throwing your flight jacket at you. “Hurry. We don’t have a lot of time.” You shrugged, throwing the covers off your body.

Once your dressed, Liam leads you down to the flight field. Deigh sits in the middle of the field waiting. “Where’s Dalinda?” You give him a skeptical look. Liam takes your hand tugging you towards the dragon. He lets you on, which surprised you, dragons rarely let other people but their riders on them.

Liam climbs on behind you. He holds onto your waist, pulling you flush to his chest, leaving a kiss on your cheek. “Let’s go Deigh!” The dragon takes off, soaring across the forest to a clearing you’d never seen before.

Deigh landed just on the edge of the clearing. The river ran past in slow rushes. Wildflowers were randomly scattered among the grass. You spotted a blanket near the river bank and gave Liam another look. “Ok lover boy, what are you up to?”

Liam wraps his arm around you walking you to the little spot he set up. The sky is starting to get lighter with first of the suns rays you can’t see yet. “I know you’ve been homesick. Your friends told me that you used to watch the sun rise with your mom so…I thought we could watch it together.” His tone turned nervous at the end.

He scratched the back of his neck waiting for your response. Now that he was thinking about it, he wasn’t sure if this would help or make your mood worse. All you could do was stare at the horizon. You slowly turned to Liam, throwing your arms around his torso.

“Thank you.” You whispered into his chest. Liam hugged you back tighter. “Of course, baby.” When you let go of him, Liam sits you on his lap on the blanket, holding you close.

The two of you sat there in a comfortable silence just enjoying each other’s company. As the sun rose you rested your head on Liam’s shoulder. “I love you,” he whispered into your hair, pressing his lips into the back of your head. “I love you too Li.”

#fourth wing #fourth wing fanfic #fourth wing x reader #fourth wing fluff #liam mairi #liam mairi fourth wing #liam mairi x you #liam mairi x reader #liam fourth wing x reader #liam fourth wing

[peach-and-bugs]

💚Bean Sprout - Lottie Matthews x fem!Reader💚

Chapter 1 - Ch 2

Fanfiction master list

disclaimer: don't repost my work. I only post on Tumblr and on Ao3. anything else is stolen and should be removed immediately

Summary: You've been happily married to Charlotte Matthews for some odd years now, but it feels like it's time to take a step in a new direction together... aka mama!Lottie

Warnings: Mild nudity, but not really. otherwise nothing

Word Count: 2,839

A/N: Oh my god, it's here and it has a title! Hello Loves! It's finally time for the start of my Mama!Lottie fic that I haven't been able to stop talking and thinking about! This is a pretty light introductory chapter, just setting some of the groundwork for the fic as a whole, but I think it's a really sweet chapter and I really hope you enjoy! As always, feel free to leave questions or comments in my comments or ask box, and happy reading!

Lottie Matthews Tag List: (open) @elliesjoints

Yellowjackets Tag List: @frasersgf @minimickzy

"Bean Sprout" Tag List:

General Tag List: @summergeezburr

-💚-

Summer had hit and become the time of the year when school was letting out and the next generation of kids was graduating from school and heading out into the world. One of these kids happened to be Callie, the daughter of one of your wife’s closest friends. You’d been invited to her graduation party and after making the drive back to Wiskayok, New Jersey you found yourself celebrating in a nice backyard, sitting at a round table under a shady tree with a drink in hand chatting with your wife and some of her other friends. 

You mostly stayed quiet, listening to the conversation rather than chiming in. While you knew Lottie’s friends from high school, you'd been a freshman during their senior year, so there hadn’t been much overlap. You’d only gotten close to Lottie because of you’re excelled French placement and even then you hadn’t connected till you were both much older. They’d always been a kind group of women though, always willing to engage with you. 

“I still can’t believe she’s graduating,” Taissa marveled, her eyes trained on Callie from across the yard as she laughed with her group of friends. 

“Trust me, I know,” Shauna said with a sigh as she took in a swig of her drink only to grimace down into it. “Starting to wish one of them would spike the punch,” she murmured. She was nudged by Natalie, who pulled a flask out of her jacket followed by her eyes darting down at the flask and then back up at Shauna. The mom sighed and offered out her cup, as did Taissa. Your wife shook her head but said nothing while you smiled, biting your bottom lip as you suppressed your giggles. 

“You always were old reliable when it came to boos,” Van said as she approached the group with Misty trailing behind. The two had made a run back to the snack bar earlier. Natalie shrugged nonchalantly, taking a chip from Misty’s plate as the blonde saddled up beside her, taking her seat again around the table

“Someone had to provide,” she hummed, tucking the flask back in her pocket. The conversation drew on to general catching up and Natalie had started telling a story when Taissa’s son Sammy ran up to her and tugged at her sleeve. 

“Mama, they aren’t playing fair,” the boy complained, pointing to the small collection of children who were gathered together in a corner of the yard. One little girl seemed to be telling off another child who had their face red and squished in irritation with crossed arms. The other kids around stood awkwardly listening to the argument, unsure of what to do. A soccer ball lye abandoned between the two children in the grass. Taissa bit her lip before running her hand over her son’s hair. 

“Well, kiddo, sometimes people don’t play fair. But we don't get to tell them what to do,” she started to explain. “Why don’t you suggest another game,” she offered up. Sammy scrunched his face, lips pressed together tightly as he shook his head. 

“They said we can only play soccer because that's the only ball we have,” he pointed to the two arguing children again. Taissa looked on, wracking her brain over what she could suggest instead when Lottie tapped your shoulder and handed you her drink. 

“I can teach you a game, Sammy,” she suggested, smiling kindly as she got out of her seat and began walking toward the group of kids. Sammy seemed unsure for a moment till Taissa patted him on the shoulder. 

“Yeah, that sounds like a great idea! Let your Aunt Lottie teach you something new,” Sammy caved and then smiled with a nod. He trotted after Lottie, who had stopped and was waiting for him only to take her hand when he reached her, guiding her over to the group of kids to interrupt their growing argument. You smiled fondly, watching as she crouched down to talk to the kids, supposedly explaining the game as she took the ball into her hands. 

“Hey Shauna!” a voice yelled from the back porch of the house. You all looked up to see a woman standing at the door, baby on her hip. Shauna’s eyes lit up and she smiled, waving. 

“I’ll be back, it’s my sister and my niece,” she explained, leaving the group to go into the house. She called for Callie as she left, gesturing for the graduate to go and say hello. 

“Jease, everyone’s having kids now,” Natalie mumbled under her breath, pulling her flask back out to pour more of its contents into her nearly drained cup. Tai shrugged with a sigh. 

“Yeah, that’s the next step in growing up these days,” Natalie smirked ans shook her head. 

“Not for me,” she raised her brows, taking a long swig of her drink. 

“I’ve always thought about having kids. Maybe not now, but I thought it over when I was younger and liked the idea,” Misty jumped into the conversation, giving her two cents on the topic. The group nodded, acknowledging what she had to say before a squealing laugh distracted them. Eyes followed back over to Lottie who was now jumping hand in hand with one of the previously arguing little girls, supposedly having won some part of the game she’d taught them maybe. You felt a smile pull at your lips again at the sight of her side profile, eyes shut with an opened-mouth smile as she laughed, her shoulders hunching in with the sound. 

“What about you, y/n?” Van asked suddenly. You shook from your thoughts and turned to her, mildly confused having forgotten the conversation at hand. The redhead tilted her head, gesturing back to Lottie and the kids. “Well, you and Lot are the last of us to have tied the knot without having a kid…” your brows raised, lips pressed as you understood the implication of her question. You felt yourself grow shy under questioning. 

“Oh, I dunno,” you paused, eyes trailing back to your wife, who now stood with her hands on her hips, proudly watching the kids running around their patch of grass, chasing the soccer ball that bounced at their feet. “I mean, the topics come up once or twice but that was back when we were dating. We’ve got Buckweed though,” You brought up your dog instead, who’d been left back at the air b&b you were staying at for the night before driving back home Monday. 

“I always thought Lottie would have kids for sure,” you heard Misty comment again. “She always liked babysitting,” You bit your bottom lip. Did Lottie still want kids? You hadn’t thought of it recently, now that you thought about it. Maybe you’d been waiting for her to breach the subject before you did. Would she regret it if you didn’t have kids? Did you still want them? You felt your brain begin scrambling at all the sudden questions. 

“Hey, you alright?” Tai asked, shaking you from your silent spiral, her hand on your shoulder. You forced a smile and chuckled nervously. 

“Yeah! Yeah, I’m good. Just overthinking,” you mumbled, forcing a laugh. Taissa shared an awkward look with the rest of the group. 

“Lottie would talk about it if she wanted to,” Natalie jumped in, seeming completely unphased. She got disgruntled looks from both Taissa and Van. “What? Am I wrong? Lottie’s always been upfront about things like that,” she turned her attention to you. After a flicker of consideration, you nodded in agreement with her. Lottie had always been very honest with what she wanted, especially with you. If kids had been something she thought about, she’d have brought it up. Foturnintly, the conversation shifted away from you as Shauna rejoined the group, only now she had a baby in her arm, balanced so naturally on her hip. You assumed this was her niece, who smiled brightly and waved as she was brought over to the group. 

“Sorry about that,” Shauna smiled, readjusting the baby as she spoke. “My sisters getting something to eat, so I get to hang on to Pheobe,” she added a higher pitch to her voice, scrunching her nose as she tickled the little girl's stomach.

“Pheobe. That’s a pretty name,” Misty joined in, leaning towards Shauna who she was sitting next to to give the baby her attention. Shauna chuckled as Misty began poking at the baby, making her continue with her babbling giggles. 

“Mckenna was always a big fan of ‘Friends’,” She said with a shrug. “But, she’s eleven months and just started working on walking,” Shauna mused about her niece, who had turned to look over Shauna’s shoulder onto the party. 

“Mom!” you all heard Callie yell from across the yard. Shauna closed her eyes, cursing under her breath at yet another interruption. “Dad can’t find the cake!” Shauna sighed opening her eyes again and grimaced as she stood up. 

“Well, the world must be ending if Jeff can’t find a cake,” she grumbled, causing a few chuckles to sound around the table. But she turned her attention to you momentarily. “Can you take her from me? Just for a few minutes,” she gestured to Pheobe but was already offering her to you. You nodded, managing to ignore any initial hesitation, and took the baby onto your lap, sitting her so she was propped at the table like she was in her chair. Shauna gave you her thanks as she left and Pheobe made an excited squeal as she leaned forward, using her chubby little hands to smack at the table she could now reach. 

Your hands naturally found their place at her sides, giving her just enough wiggle room to move around but not get away from you. You began bouncing your knee just slightly, which she seemed to enjoy as she began gurgling and babbling the few words that she knew as she clapped her hands. You began to smile, looking down at her with her big brown eyes, just like her aunts. 

“Well, aren't you just a sweetheart,” you murmured with a light chuckle as the baby began kicking her feet in excitement from all the colors and sounds of the party around her. Unbeknownst to you, Taissa shared a knowing look between herself, Van, and Natalie as she leaned back in her chair. This was also when the cake was brought out, along with what looked like a truckload of cupcakes and all the kids went running, tearing towards the new treats to load up on even more sugar, subsequently relinquishing Lottie from her duties as entertainment. 

She made her way back to your table, laughing as the kids fought for the first slice of cake or cupcake. She was quite surprised to find you with a baby in your lap. Phoebe has started playing with your fingers, grabbing at your hands and smacking her tiny palms against yours, enjoying the sound that contact made. She took her seat beside you and leaned in to watch the interaction, wrapping her arm around the back of your chair as she scooted closer. 

“And who’s this?” she murmured, smiling at the baby as attention turned from your hands to her, though there was still a tight grasp on your pointer finger. 

“Shauna’s niece, Phoebe,” Lottie hummed, offering out her hand for the baby’s entertainment, which was greatly appreciated by Phoebe, who smacked at her palm in a child's attempt at a high five. 

“Well hello, Phoebe,” she laughed. 

-💚-

You didn’t talk much on the drive back to the house you were staying at. Not for any particular reason. You’d ended up staying at the party far longer than intended and were tired, so some comfortable silence was welcomed. You watched Lottie as she focused on the road ahead of her as she drive. The sun had started to set and streetlights turned on, offering a soft light that danced over your wife’s features. She glanced at you momentarily when she noticed you staring. She smiled without a word, reaching with her free hand for yours. She gave your hand a comfortable squeeze and kissed your knuckles, her eyes returning to the road. You hummed your thanks and leaned against the headrest, shutting your eyes. 

You didn’t talk to one another till you made it back into the air b&b. Buckwheat was very excited to have his people back with him and he barked eagerly wagging his tail as he hopped off of the coach upon hearing the door unlock. Lottie took him into the kitchen for a late dinner while you made your way into the bedroom to change into something more comfortable. You listened through the tiny house as you rummaged through your luggage. The kitchen light turned on with a soft click followed by kibble hitting the ceramic of Buckweed's bowl. You settled on changing into a pair of sweatpants and a tank top, not bothering to shut the bedroom door before stripping. 

Lottie walked in when you were halfway finished, wearing only your tank top and underwear with a pair of socks on before putting your pants on. She hummed her acknowledgment but moved to the bed to sit down and take her shoes off. You stalled, pausing before abandoning the pants altogether to approach her. You sat next to her on the bed but looked down at your knees. She finished with her shoes and scooted on the bed, patting the space beside her, awaiting you to join her. You did just that, crawling up to the pillow just as her arm draped around you like it had a hundred times before, comfortably settling on the curve of your hip.  

“You've been quiet,” she commented, running her fingers over your forehead, brushing loose hair from your eyes so she could get a good look at you. “Tired?” she questioned. You shook your head, nuzzling into her hand. 

“Thinking,” she hummed, eyes trailing over your face. 

“Care to share,” 

“You looked like you had a lot of fun with those kids today,” she smiled fondly and hummed again. 

“I did. They had a lot of spirit,” she adjusted her position in the bed, scooting closer to you. “But that’s not what you’re thinking about,” she knew you too well. It could get irritating sometimes. But in the long run, you appreciated it. Your eyes drifted and you bit the fat of your inner cheek, you're brow growing to crease with consideration. 

“Do you wish we had a kid?” Lottie seemed taken aback by the question, but she didn’t answer right away. 

“Where did that come from?” you bit your lip now.

“Well you looked so happy running around with those kids, and the other girls started asking if we planned on having any and saying they always thought you would and I just,” your words began to quicken as you said more. That is till Lottie brought her hand up to your cheek, running her thumb over the corner of your mouth to get your attention. 

“Darling, you’re overthinking again,” You sighed with a tiny laugh and nodded, pressing a chaste kiss to her thumb.

“I worried,” 

“Don’t”

“That’s far easier said than done,” you scoffed. She smiled softly and sighed. 

“Do you want a baby?” 

“I dunno. Yes? Maybe?”

“That doesn’t sound very confident of you,” she was messing with you now. You sat up, which you knew she wouldn’t enjoy only to maneuver so that you could pin her down on her back and straddle her waist with your hips. You pressed her shoulders down into the bed with either hand and you felt a tight squeeze of her hands on your hips. You knew she enjoyed this, as did you, but right now it was simply a means to keep her quiet and on topic. 

“Charlotte,” you started. You knew how she felt about you using her full first name. She kept her lips tightly shut as she stared up at you. “I need you to be completely honest with me and tell me exactly what you feel on impulse. Can you do that,” she nodded but didn’t let out a sound. 

“Should we have a baby?” 

“Yes,” she answered with zero hesitation, completely on impulse like you'd told her. Her features smiled and she began to laugh. “Yes! We should have a baby,” 

“Are you sure?” you grew excited at her enthusiasm. She continued to laugh and reached up, pulling you down on top of her fully. You practically crashed into her with a loud yelp, her arms wrapping around you tight as she continued with her giggles. 

“Oh, mon ange, I’m as sure as when I asked you to marry me,” she cooed, kissing your forehead and cheeks. If you looked close enough you could swear she was tearing up and you couldn’t blame her. You felt like you could burst into tears at any second too. “Let’s have a baby,”

#◛⑅·˚ ༘ ♡ kay's at it again♡ #mama!lottie yj #yellowjackets #yellowjackets fanfic #yellowjackets x reader #lottie matthews #lottie matthews x reader #lottie yellowjackets

[certifiedlovergirlsstuff]

as it was

pairing: peter parker x sister!reader

WC: 3K

warnings: small mentions of anxiety, maybe some cursing, just no way home angst. there is no physical description of reader, so you could read this as adopted!reader or however.

summary: you feel like there’s something missing from your life when may dies. you just aren’t sure what that thing is.

A/N: i started this april 11, 2022. something just came upon me to start writing for this draft again. i dont live in nyc so ignore all directions. my own gif (that’s why it’s shit)

@alecmores my editor💗

been in the drafts since march 25

masterlist

You were sitting in front of her grave.

The cold chill of New York winter settles into your bones. The trees were barren of any leaves with autumn having left a few weeks ago, no snowfall yet thankfully. The grass has been freshly cut along with some watering causing you to sit in a bit of wet grass, at least your coat was taking the moisture.

You brought some new flowers, just some simple white roses. The other flowers have been slowly wilting since your last visit, and you never want to have dead flowers resting with Aunt May’s grave.

As you replace the flora you sit back on the ground with the wilting stems staying in your hands to keep you from fidgeting around and picking the grass as you talk to her. You try to visit once a week, but sometimes you can only come twice a month because it will just hit you really hard one day that you have no one left, no immediate family anymore. The closest you have to any type of family is Happy Hogan, MJ, and Ned, which is kind of weird because when you think of your memories that involve the three of them, something is missing, a piece of a puzzle that won’t fit in its place.

“How are you today, may?” The wind just blows the hair around your face in different directions.

“I started to work at the Peter Pan cafe with MJ. Sometimes we have shifts together, but honestly, it’s kinda rare since it doesn’t get too busy there. The boss is an older man who’s lazy and has a snippy attitude for no reason, but it's an easy job. Don’t have to worry about my anxiety kicking in.” You stared down at your gloved-covered hands that clutched your crossed legs. Your lips rolled together as you let the silence cover you, thinking of what else to mention.

“Uh… Happy. Happy- he misses you, I miss you. He- uh… he took me in, unofficially adopted me. I’m thankful for him cause if I had to do all this- this, I don’t know, just I’m thankful he took pity on me and didn’t leave me to the wolves. MJ and Ned said they would’ve taken me in, but I think they just said it out of friendliness.” You shrugged your shoulders at the thought.

You perked your head up and glanced around the cemetery. Dozens of headstones, some having more grandeur stone carvings with angels or whatever. Fallen autumn leaves tumbled and kicked across the grass, sticking to trees or headstones before a breeze pushed them away and further off. It seemed you were the only person visiting a loved one at the moment, you wished someone accompanied you, but you liked being with May by yourself.

“Oh, uh, school. Probably want to know about school. I- I- I think I’m gonna take a gap year. Process and readjust to everything and I know if I was doing school I wouldn’t give my all and I don’t want to let you down. Plus, I need money and so I’ll probably need to work a few jobs- wanna help Happy with bills so he doesn’t feel stuck with me.”

A puff of air left your lips as you rubbed your arms up and down your biceps to get a good warmth back into your bones so you could stay longer. With a lick to your lips and a furrow to your brow, you hesitantly spoke a thought that’s been sitting on your tongue for a while, only feeling brave to speak them towards May.

“Ever since you- since you left… something has felt… off. I- I don’t even know what feels off, just that I’m missing something- someone in my life. But I don’t have anyone else. Mom and dad were gone too soon for me to remember their faces, Ben passed away a few years ago and then all I had was you. May... you’ve been my mom, you are my mom. And- and when the blip happened and we came back, that was the scariest thing I’ve ever experienced. Feeling like you were gone for only a minute but then people are telling you that it’s been five years and half the population turned to dust… but you came back and I felt safe again. And we got back into some normal groove again. And then hearing that you got into an accident and were killed-” your throat started to choke with restrained tears, “I’ve never been more scared in my whole life.”

You let a cry free before pulling yourself back in, wanting to continue your rant, “but, what I’m trying to get at… something feels out of place. I feel like someone is missing from the giant picture, memories feel like they’ve been edited- cutting out that person from our life, my life. Memories with MJ and Ned feel weird, and memories with Happy feel weird as well. Like trying to think about how the two of you met… something is burned away. I- I don’t know, probably just trying to find something to focus on.”

Your eyes met the dark stone, the words May Parker engraved with her date of birth and death. Your shoulders sagged, you were just talking to air about a nagging thought. Should probably look into getting therapy.

“I should start heading back, Happy’s probably worried about me.” You dusted your jacket and pants clean of any grass, might have a few wet spots soaking the fabric.

You stuffed your hands into the jacket pockets and just stood, not making an effort to leave just yet. There was a crunching of leaves that soon filled the quiet and you didn’t think anything of it, it could have been another visitor or Happy who came to visit and take you home, which happened a few times already. But when you looked in your periphery, it wasn’t someone at another grave and it wasn’t Happy. It was a boy.

Out of curiosity, you turned your head enough to get a proper look at the new arrival. You eyed him from head to toe, never seeing him around before. He looked to be about your age, just a teenager. A beanie covered his head, he wore a blue puffer jacket with a few stripes at the top with simple jeans and sneakers, nothing standing out. But there was just something about him…

“How did you know May?” The mystery boy spoke. It took you off guard, “huh?” Was all that came out. He cleared his throat and jerked his chin, again, “how- uh- how did you know May?” He turned to you before turning away.

“Oh, she- she was my aunt. Well, my mom really. Lived with her when I was young.” You stopped there and it was silent. You counted to five before asking, “how did you know her? If I may ask?” Your manners popping in.

The boy was quiet, eyes set on her name. He sniffled then wet his lips, “feast. I knew her from feast. She was- she was nice, always kind to everyone. She was like the mother I never had. I’m glad you had her as family.” His voice cracked on the word family, something you noted but didn’t push for further.

“Yeah. She was always looking out for the little guys.” A smile to your lips. “Was it just the two of you?” The boy asked then backed tracked, “only if you feel comfortable saying. Sorry, it just- it just slipped.”

You looked at the boy. He wasn’t fidgeting, but you could tell from his eyes that he was nervous about something. Your eyes just wandered over him, sure it may seem rude but you couldn’t help it. It was like a magnet was pulling you and you couldn’t resist the hold it had on you. You thought about lying to this stranger, but you didn’t. “Yeah. Well, it wasn’t always just the two of us. She had a husband, his name was Ben, and he’s buried in his home state. But he got shot during a robbery about… a decade ago… blip time difference is weird.” You mumbled off, realizing he died five years ago for you but with your dusting, that added an extra five. The boy agreed with a light chuckle, it warmed you.

“What about you? Any family still with you?” Bouncing back on his question.

His eyes drooped a slight frown on his face, “uh…no. No family, just me.” His eyes caught yours before, once again, looking away. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to-“ “Oh! No, it’s- it’s fine. I was asking the questions first anyway.”

You rolled your lips as you swayed on your feet. Neither of you decided to speak, just stood beside each other as you stared at the headstone and listened to the leaves falling. You wanted to look at the boy again but withheld yourself from doing so.

“I should- I should head home. But it was nice to meet you…” you trailed off hoping he’ll present his name. “Peter… Peter Parker.” He held a smile at the last name.

“Huh, funny coincidence. I’m (Y/n), Parker obviously.” You bid Peter a smile goodbye and turned your back to make your walk to the subway.

“Hey! Uh (Y/n)!” You heard the shouts and the crunching of leaves beneath his feet as he hurried to catch up with you. You stopped your steps and looked at Peter as he stopped a few steps away.

“Do you… do you take the subway?” “Yeah…”

“Do you mind if I walk you? I just- I would just feel a lot better knowing you made it safely plus I think May would… sorry- sorry. Only if you want, of course, I mean you just met me and-“

You stepped closer and touched his arm, “hey, it’s fine. I would like the company. Plus, it’s just the subway, you’re not walking me to the front door.” You shrugged at the end before nodding your head to the iron gates.

-

The two of you traveled down the busy and packed streets of New York. Shifting and turning your bodies so you didn’t bump into anyone, especially someone who wasn’t in the right mood that day. The walking was quiet at first, two strangers who just met and didn’t know what boundaries were already drawn. You kept making glances at Peter beside you before looking away, at the sky or the buildings around you.

“Are you in school?” Peter was the first to ask, once again. You were thankful he took the first steps.

“Oh, well I’m eighteen so I’m about to graduate high school. And I was planning to go to college, out of state or in state, not sure. But after May… I’m taking a gap year. Want to get my bearings first before I focus back on school… How’s your academic future?” You eyed him as he watched you talk.

“Uh, well I’m eighteen as well. And something happened during the school year so I kinda have to start senior year over again. I was planning to go to MIT for college, but that’ll just have to wait.” He scratched his nose before stuffing his hand back into his jacket pocket.

“Another coincidence. Two of my friends are going.” You saw the smile Peter tried to hide from your comment.

“Do you have a job, Mr. Parker?” Already giving joking nicknames.

You didn’t notice the stiffness to his shoulders or the sadness that glazed over his eyes before stuttering, “uh, I’ve applied to a- a few different jobs. Kinda hard- not a high school graduate so my options are limited. Gotta look for the desperate places.”

“But those are kinda sketchy. Not the safest.”

His attention was on you, “yeah, well, I can handle myself.” He nudged your arm and pulled a smile from you as you shook your head. “What about you? Any sketchy jobs?”

“Not sketchy, just boring and quiet. I work at a small café with my friend. An easy job since I have anxiety.” You keep your answers vague with enough detail.

Silence came back around. Cars honking and people talking to each other or over the phone. Couples holding hands or looped around each other.

“Anyone special in your life?” Was your first question to come to mind.

You weren’t sure if the flush was due to the low temperature or the abrupt question towards Peter, who’s still a stranger, about if he was seeing someone.

“No, no. I- I had someone, but she left me. For the best, I think.”

“Why is that? Secretly with the mob or something?”

He laughed, “Nah, nothing like that. Just… I'm broken and a mess. Don’t want her dealing with… all that.” He made a circling hand gesture. You just hummed.

You weren’t paying much attention to your surroundings so you didn’t see the group of kids running and pushing into everyone coming your way. So with a tight hold on your bicep and a yank, you yelped and looked around. Peter pulled you behind him and you followed his eyes as you watched the kids pass as they shouted and yelled.

“Stupid kids.” You muttered before continuing your walk. “Thank you, for pulling me.” “Oh, it’s nothing.”

You were only a block or two away from a station.

“What about you?” “What about me?” “Anyone special?” He had a playful tone to his words. You just shrugged your shoulders.

“I’ve never been anyone’s first choice. I stick more to the shadows anyway, used to get bullied, so I keep my head down and mouth closed,” you looked to see if he was listening, and he was, “also, I’m kinda a hopeless romantic. Romance books, love songs; especially Taylor Swift's love songs, and a few rom-coms. Anyway, what I’m saying is that, no. No one special, probably not for a while. But maybe that’s okay, maybe I’ll find ‘the one’ when it’s time.”

Peter didn’t respond to your words. You smacked a hand over your face.

“What? What’s-“ “I just spilled my random thoughts to you, who’s still a stranger.”

You pulled your hand away and ran your fingers through your hair before moving it to your pocket for warmth. You looked at Peter and you were just full-on staring, eyes roving over his side profile or his face if he looked your way before facing forward. A tilt of your head came up.

“You know… maybe it wasn’t a coincidence.” You kept looking at Peter. “What wasn’t?” His eyes were on his feet.

“Meeting each other.” And you looked away just as Peter almost tried over his feet even as he watched every step. You kept walking, not aware of the cogs turning in Peter’s mind as he processed your words.

“What- What do you mean? How isn’t this a coincidence? I think it was just lucky timing.”

You threw a hand out as you talked, “What I mean is… maybe May sent you this way. Two people she knew and cared about, both lonely and without a family around. Plus come on, your last name is Parker. That's just crazy. I don’t know, just- it’s just crazy!”

You smiled at the boy as you crossed the street and walked down the crowded and smelly stairs leading to the subway. You checked to see if Peter was still with you and when you saw he was pushed back by a few people, you moved to the side and waited for him to meet your side. You flashed a smile when he reappeared and you both continued on your walk toward the entrances. You checked to see if any cops were around and seeing none you hopped over the spinning entrance, Peter a second behind.

“What train do you take?” “A train, you?” “F for me.”

You thought this meant that the two of you would split up, but Peter walked with you and stayed by your side as you waited for your train to arrive. You checked your pockets to make sure you had your phone, wallet, keys, and headphones, along with your taser and pepper spray that Happy bought for you. You texted Happy that you were waiting for your train and should be home within the hour.

After about thirty-five minutes you heard the screeching of wheels on tracks and saw the lights glow into the station. You turned to Peter with a smile, “well, looks like my ride's here.” He nodded at your words and he opened his mouth and then closed it. You stayed back seeing if he’ll say the words on his mind.

As the train got closer and he didn’t say anything you decided to be the first to speak. “Would it be okay if I get your number? I- I know we just met, but… you seem like a good friend.” You cringed a bit, it was almost like a terrible pickup line. And you weren’t hitting on him, it just felt gross to even think that.

“Yeah, yeah. I’d love to have a friend.” Peter stopped your worrying thoughts. You passed him your phone and then he passed it back before pulling his out and showing a text on his home screen.

You started towards the open doors and passed the rushing people and with a quick turn, you called out to Peter and he looked your way waiting to hear what you needed to say before you let the subway whisks you away.

“Stop by feast when you can. We can always use the extra hands and May would be thankful.” And before you got any reply you walked further into the metal tub and took a seat, sticking an earbud in and pressing play on an album you’ve had on repeat.

Already planning to visit May tomorrow after your morning shift to talk about your new friend. And Peter would keep watch from a distance and when you left he would speak with May quietly. Promising her that he’ll keep you safe and be your friend, maybe not your brother never again, only in his mind.

…

#peter parker x you #peter parker x reader #peter parker imagine #peter parker #peter parker x (y/n) #peter parker x female reader #peter parker x sister!reader #peter parker x sibling!reader #peter parker angst #peter parker fluff #spider man homecoming #spider man far from home #spider man no way home #mcu reader insert #mcu imagine #mcu fanfiction #mcu #spider-man #spider-man imagine #spider-man fic #spider-man fluff #spider-man angst #spider-man x reader #spider-man x fem!reader #tom holland #tom holland imagine

[shadowisles-writes]

Innocent (Part 1) [Elucien]

A/N: Here is the first part of my gift to @kingofsummer93 for the ACOTAR gift exchange <3 A big thank you to everyone behind @acotargiftexchange, this is always one of the loveliest events of the year!

Summary: Lucien had always thought his life would be normal—or as normal as it could be growing up in a werewolf hunting family. All it took was one full moon for the truth to unravel in front of him and force him to make hard decisions. His fate was forever changed, and no amount of trying running from it could prevent it from catching up to him.

Huge thanks to @rosanna-writer for the beta <3

Read on AO3

.

And here I sit alone behind walls of regret Falling down like promises that I never kept - Castles Crumbling, Taylor Swift ft. Hayley Williams

6 years ago - Elain

Elain ran through the field with a shriek. The teenage boy with shoulder-length red hair chased after her, laughing as his longer legs easily caught up with her. His arms wrapped around her and Elain stumbled, unable to slow to a stop. The weight of his body and his own speed drove her off balance, and they collapsed in the grass together.

“You’re going to ruin my skirt again, Lucien.” Elain tried to check her cheerleading uniform for grass stains, but his body on hers covered most of it.

“It’s already too late for this one.” He gave a half apologetic shrug, knowing that she had an immaculate outfit to perform in folded in her closet.

Elain squirmed to look at the short skirt. “Where?”

“Right here,” Lucien grabbed her ass over the fabric and grinned.

“You’re impossible.” She tried to sound stern, but the way she tilted her head up to kiss him gave her away.

Lucien smiled against her lips, then quickly pushed himself to his feet and held his hands out to her. “Come on,” he lifted her until she stood. “I should drive you home.”

“Already?” Elain looked over to the almost empty parking lot. They had stayed long after practice ended, but it didn’t feel like enough time.

“Gotta stay in your dad’s good graces.” He squeezed her hand and led the way back to the locker rooms so that she could pick up her bag.

Elain knew that sulking wouldn’t help, but she was quiet all the way home. It had been four months, and Lucien still wasn’t allowed into her house apart from the occasional dinner. She followed her family to church every Sunday and endured the talks of abstinence and marriage, as if she would even get the opportunity to be alone with Lucien.

All he had ever done was kiss her. Hands wandered over clothes sometimes, but the only time they ever got to be together was the hour they stole after school and practice ended. Often enough, Elain’s father showed up after practice to pick her up and interrupted them, though he’d only ever found them sitting on the bleachers holding hands and talking.

Lucien wouldn’t take any chances and risk her family forbidding her from seeing him, but Elain’s patience was wearing thin. Nesta, of course, was always proper and only seen talking to the boys their grandmother thought would be a good match for her. No one cared enough about Elain to find her a match until Nesta was taken care of, so she was unfairly sheltered instead while Feyre ran wild, too young and headstrong for anyone to bother with her.

“Come on El, it’s not that bad.” Lucien placed his hand on her thigh as he drove.

“Aren’t you sick of it?” She traced the veins on the back of his hand and studied his profile.

“It’s not ideal,” he conceded. “But as long as I get to see you, I’m happy.”

“Don’t you ever get angry?” Elain asked, because she did. She got angry at the world for keeping him from her, for telling her that she was only a child and didn’t know what was good for her when her heart told her Lucien was the one she needed by her side.

“What’s the point?” Lucien glanced over at her and flipped his hand to lace his fingers with hers. “Of course I wish we could have more freedom, but I don’t see another way at the moment.”

“We have a year and half of this ahead of us,” Elain sighed. “I just… I don’t want you to lose your patience.”

“I won’t, never when it comes to you.” He kissed the back of her hand. “I promise.”

.

Dinner was quiet that evening, as it always was. Elain’s grandmother and her father were the only people who ever really talked. The three girls had been raised to know that children didn’t speak at the dinner table, and as they had gotten older the rule had never truly been lifted. Elain never had much to say to her family anyway, only answering questions when she was spoken to.

It was typically uneventful until her father had to leave the dinner table to answer the phone. The conversation was short and impossible to overhear, and Elain didn’t think any of it would matter until he sat back at the head of the table.

“Who was it?” Feyre asked.

“Beron Vanserra.”

Elain’s heart skipped a beat as she looked up from her dinner. The way her father was looking back at her did nothing to reassure her. Beron never called.

She was just about to ask about the reason when her grandmother stepped in. “We haven’t seen a werewolf in this town in twenty years. What would be important enough for him to interrupt dinner?”

Everyone knew werewolves were the most unpredictable creatures. Elain hadn’t heard of one anywhere near this town in her lifetime, and she could only pray it wasn’t about to change. Some towns were riddled with them, but hunting families like the Vanserras had cleared many areas for humans to safely live in.

Beron Vanserra and his oldest sons were some of the rare people who lived after facing down one of those creatures on a full moon. Lucien talked about it, sometimes, though he still had a few years before he would be forced to follow in his family’s tracks.

“It wasn’t about hunting. Lucien was in a car accident, he knows he picks up Elain for school,” he explained before adding, “You can take the bus tomorrow.”

Elain nearly dropped her fork. She couldn’t have cared less about school or the bus as she quickly asked, “What happened? Is he going to be alright?” 

“I assume he’s going to be in the hospital for a few days at least.” Her father reached for the spoon in the middle of the table and helped himself to more potatoes.

“Well,” her grandmother scoffed. “Good thing Elain won’t be getting in that boy’s car again.”

“I’m sure it wasn’t his fault,” she protested, unable to even look at her food anymore. “Can I call them back after dinner? Just to know if he’s alright?”

“His brothers will be at school tomorrow.”

“Daddy-” Elain began to argue, but Nesta interrupted her.

“I have my final project with Eris due tomorrow,” she said. “I was going to have to call to talk over a detail of the conclusion. I’ll ask about Lucien.”

.

Lucien

Everything had happened too fast for him to remember. One moment, Lucien was driving; the next, he was in a hospital bed. He tried to move his shoulder and immediately groaned from the pain that shot through his articulation. His arm was partly immobilized by a splint, and he could only wish they had put it on tighter as he breathed through gritted teeth. The room was entirely white, and the steady beeping by his head was enough of a clue for him to know where he was.

“Oh sweetheart, you’re awake.” Lucien’s mother quickly noticed his eyes were open and reached for his hand. His eyes followed her touch, noticing the IV in his arm and the plastic covering one of his fingers.

At least that arm wasn’t injured, he realized after carefully moving his shoulder to check.  “What happened?” He croaked before clearing his throat.

“You had a car accident,” she explained and handed him a glass of water. “Beron is outside, he’s on the phone with the insurance company,”

Lucien wouldn’t be surprised if his father never came into the room. He didn’t expect him to care beyond the cost of car repairs. Beron hadn’t spent time with him in years, always too busy traveling to nearby towns with other werewolf hunters to care about his youngest son.

“I don’t remember it,” Lucien said about the accident. “Was anyone else injured?”

“No, you only hit a tree.”

“Okay,” he breathed out, at least relieved that no one else had been hurt. “Did I hit my head or something?” It certainly didn’t hurt now, but maybe that was what affected his memory. “I just don’t remember anything happening in the car.”

“I-”

“I see you’re awake,” a nurse walked into the room and interrupted before Lucien’s mother could start her explanation. “How are you feeling?”

“Fine, I think,” Lucien diverted his attention to answer more questions.

Something was clearly going on with his mother, but she didn’t speak with the nurse in the room. After several questions and a promise to have a doctor check on him soon, the nurse left them alone again.

Lucien’s mother didn’t meet his eyes until she was sitting beside him again. Even then, it was hardly more than a glance at him. The tight bun that usually held her bright red hair had fallen loose, and her light brown eyes were rimmed with red.

Lucien didn’t remember the last time he had seen her so distressed. She was always put together at home, even in the worst of circumstances she could hold her head up and pretend everything was fine. Three of his brothers had been in accidents that sent them to the hospital before, yet she had never looked this pale waiting in their hospital rooms.

“Are you sure you’re feeling alright?” She fussed with the edge of his bedsheet.

“I’m fine. What were you going to say?”

“There are a lot of things I need to explain to you.”

“Just tell me what happened.” Lucien frowned, her reluctance to say anything only making his worry increase.

She kept staring at the bedsheet for a moment, then met his eyes, took a deep breath, and finally began to explain. “There’s something you need to know about your father.”

“What about Beron?” Lucien couldn’t fathom what that would have to do with his accident. Could he be cheating on his mother? Probably, he was a piece of shit and always traveling, but there was no reason to tell him that now.

“I’m not talking about Beron.”

“What?”

“Let me explain.” She rested her hand on his. “I should have told you this a long time ago, but Beron isn’t your biological father. Many years ago, before I was married to Beron, I met someone. My family wouldn’t have approved, for a million reasons, but we remained in contact through the years, and that man is your real father.”

“How the hell-” The heart monitor beeped faster as he processed the words. “How could you not tell me?” He pushed on his good arm to sit up, betrayal written all over his face.

“Lucien, please—” His mother glanced to the corridor to check no one would come in. “He’s a werewolf.”

Lucien laid back into the bed with wide eyes. He had grown up with Beron’s stories of the creatures, and it was expected he would learn how to hunt them too sooner or later. Every story he had ever heard depicted them as monsters, not people.

They were wild, they did not have feelings, they only killed. It was what he had been taught from the youngest age, it was impossible that his mother could have associated with one, or that he could be one of them.

“I’m so sorry, Lucien. I’ll tell you all you need to know now.” She blinked several times to clear the tears from her eyes. “Last night was a full moon, and you’re old enough that the symptoms are beginning to manifest. That’s what caused your accident.”

“How could you not tell me?” He repeated himself, still too shocked to say anything else.

It was impossible. It was going to destroy his life.

“I thought that because I was human there might be a chance you could escape it.”

“Escape it—they’re going to kill me.”

“Of course they won’t.” More tears rolled down her cheeks.“Your father, Helion, lives far away from here, I called him after your accident. You’ll live with him and learn how to protect yourself, there’s a place for you at the high school so you can still graduate and— I’m sorry, Lucien. I truly am.”

 Lucien’s mind immediately went to Elain. How could he explain himself? She would be terrified, she would hate him before he had a chance to give her an explanation. “I can’t just leave, Elain-”

“Can’t find out.” His mother interrupted vehemently. “It would put you both in danger.”

“I can’t just leave her like that,” he protested, but his thoughts were too frantic for him to figure out what he could possibly say to her either.

“You have to, or you’ll hurt her. Full moons will make you uncontrollable, and you won’t be able to keep it secret. Beron will kill us both, and Elain will be caught in the middle of it.”

Lucien quieted at that and brought his hand up to cover his face. He couldn’t think—could hardly breathe from too much information yet not enough for him to understand it all.

It took most of the day for him to calm down. His mother stayed beside him the entire time, answering every question he had and apologizing so many times he didn’t have it in him to remain angry at her. Beron had always been a horrible husband and father; there was no love lost between them,and he couldn’t really blame his mother for loving someone else.

It would take more than apologies to fix the broken trust between them, but there was no time for Lucien to sulk or reject her when listening was the only way they would both survive. The hardest part was hearing that werewolves weren’t monsters. Lucien didn’t believe he was a monster himself, but would these symptoms eventually make him into one? If werewolves could hide among humans, maybe even fall in love with them, why had Beron lied all of these years?

“Lucien, you need to know-”

“Stop.” He interrupted before she could start another one of her apologies. “I need… I don’t fucking know what I need, but just stop right now.”

“If I could keep you here with me I would,” she whispered anyway “but when lives are at stake-”

“I know they are!” Lucien’s voice rose with anger. “You think I don’t realize what a mess this is? And Elain…”

Lucien sank his teeth into his cheek until he could taste blood. She was too smart for him to just break up with her without an excuse, and it was only a matter of time until she showed up at the hospital. Even with her father opposing her, she was a caretaker, and she would always find a way to be there for the people she loved.

The only way for Lucien to keep her safe would be to make sure he wasn’t one of these people anymore.

#acotar fanfiction #elucien #elucien angst #elucien fanfiction #elucien fic #elain x lucien #elain archeron x lucien vanserra #elain and lucien #lucien vanserra #lucien x elain #lucien and elain #elucien acotar #elain archeron #werewolf au #werewolf fanfiction #angst

[sebsallowapologist]

Charcoal

Sebastian Sallow x F!MC

Rated: 18+

Warnings: so much fluff, suggestive language, references to a naked MC.

Sebastian reveals a secret talent to his muse.

Spring had finally sprung in Scotland, and after a long cold winter it felt like a true blessing to have a sunny day. Sebastian and I had decided to spend out Sunday by the lake, catching up on reading, looking out for the giant squid and just overall enjoying the nice weather. 

We hadn’t been the only ones of course, the great lawn what flooded with students all trying to do the same, but we had lucked out with a nice spot by the lake.

We’d laid together on the grass for a while, looking up at the soft fluffing clouds which were few and far between. We talked about what life would be like after the end of term. Where we’d move together, what jobs we were going to do, how far we’d have to drag Ominis.

The plans ranged from moving to London, to going to Paris or hell- maybe even America if we got bored over here. Sebastian’s only prerequisite when you asked his opinion was that you were there with him. And he needed a job that paid enough to get you the ring you deserved.

Eventually I’d begged Sebastian to go sit in the shade, his skin turning pink with the sun exposure, and I didn’t want him to get a burn.

We’d fallen into a silence as we picked up our books and read, just enjoying each others company. I hadn’t even noticed that he’d put his own book down until I lifted my face toward the sky, eyes closed to soak in the sun. “Look down again please.” He said and my brow furrowed as I turned to face him. 

My boyfriend was leaned over a large book of bound plain parchment, his hands covered in the dark charcoal he was drawing with. “What are you doing?” I giggle. I had no idea he drew, you think you know a man... 

“Look at you book, love.” He smiles, a playful twinkle in his eye. I make a big show of dramatically looking back down at my book, but it was impossible to read. Now that I was aware of what he was doing, I cold feel his stare on my face, the charcoal running over the paper rhythmically was soothing. 

Eventually he switches to an erasers stored in his pocket, and the sleeve of his robes were being used quite often too. I turn my head ever so slightly, desperate to get a look, but he catches me immediately. 

“No no miss, back to your book no peaking.” He teases and I roll my eyes, turning to face the same page I’d been looking at for at least ten minutes. 

The sounds of his drawing stop after a while, and he sighs. “Alright.” 

He scoots from his spot until the tree in the shade and comes up behind me. He grabs me around the waist to pull me to his front in between his legs. His sketchbook ends up in my lap, and he rests his chin on my shoulder to look with me. 

“Sebastian.” I sigh, looking over the page. This couldn’t possibility being a drawing of me, the woman on the page was far too beautiful. “This is wonderful. How long have you been drawing?”

He shrugs, like it was nothing. “Since I was young. It passes the time.” 

“I’d say more than that.” I mutter and turn to kiss his cheek. “Can I keep this?” I ask and he nods. "Of course my love.” He kisses my shoulder blade and I start thrumming through the sketchbook.

How could he be so casual about this, these drawings were absolutely wonderful. Soft edges, beautiful highlights, if i drew like this I’d wear it pinned to the front of my robes. There were scenes from around the Hogwarts grounds, Feldcroft, even one of Ominis looking absolutely annoyed. “You captured his essence beautifully.” I joke and Seb laughs, moving back under the tree to grab his book that he had put down earlier. 

While he did have some landscapes, and one or two other portraits the book was filled with... me. My profile, head on, sleeping, laughing, this book had me literally written all over it. 

Sebastian makes himself comfortable leaning against the tree with his book, content to just let me flip through the pages.

“Sebastian?” I hum after flipping to the next page in his sketch book.

“Yes my love?”

“Where are my clothes in this one?” 

He leans over to see which drawing I’m looking at, and the man has the nerve to smirk. “I took some artistic liberties with that one.” 

#sebastian sallow #sebastian sallow x mc #sebastian sallow x reader #sebastian sallow x you #hogwarts legacy fic #sebastian sallow fanfiction #hogwarts legacy mc

[8bitscarlet]

If We Said Goodbye

Summary: You were scared of the future, you always saw it's worst possibilities. Being with Wanda, you began to saw the best possibilities. And the moment you began to plan for the best, that's when the worst had it's chance.

Pairing: Wanda x Reader

Genre/Warnings: Angst (mention of alcohol, consumption of alcohol, blood mention, death of a major character)

Word Count: 5.5k

A/N: Italics is a flashback. No writer's block but all my energy is going to angst, so this is the road we find ourselves in. 😂 Happy Reading everyone! 💕

*please do not repost or translate my material or claim as yours. reblogs, comments and likes are always appreciated!*

_____________________________

The wind blows comfortably across the wooden deck, making the porch wind chimes sing out a quiet tune. The sun is dipping down closer to the evening, coloring the sky with a darkening orange as you run your finger down your sweating drink.

You purse your lips together, thinking back on the conversation you just had. A terse conversation that started out light hearted. 

A chair scrapes out along the wood and you glance up, watching as Bucky sits down across from you. You sigh out, leaning back against the chair and glance around him.

You can see her. Red hair falling out of her bun as she helps pin down Barton to the grass, his kids sprinting from the side of the house with freshly filled water guns. Their laughs are clear as day and you can hear her’s, sending your stomach twisting. 

“It’s nice to see Barton can have a family and still have time to save the world,” you sip from your ice cold drink, clearing your throat.

“Jealous?” Bucky’s tone suggests a rhetorical question but you answer anyway. 

Clenching your brows, you glance away from the dog pile occurring, “Why would I be jealous?”

“Because that’s exactly what you want,”

You narrow your eyes but can’t stop the sigh that leaves your lips, “Uh huh, right. Besides, I’m missing a few key components.”

“Come on,” Bucky stares at you and without spilling a drop, cracks open another beer, “I overheard that conversation you had with her. There’s feelings there, you’re just denying it.”

“There’s nothing to deny. There’s a mission. And I’m focusing on that,” you reach forward and rip the can from his fingers. Sloshing it against the table as he tries to keep grasp on it. 

Grunting as he pushes away from the table, you hear him muttering to himself as he flips open the cooler, “You’re scared. You don’t want to break her heart. Better yet,” the can hisses, “You don’t want her to break yours. Stop blaming it on the mission.”

You look down at the tab of your beer, rocking it back and forth until it snaps off, “She doesn’t deserve to have her heart broken.”

“Nobody does,” Bucky crosses his foot over the other as he leans next to your arm, “but you’re never going to get this, if you don’t grow a pair.”

Rolling your eyes, you knock your hand against his arm as he chokes slightly on the beer, some of it rolling down his nose. You stand, “You just want to say that I copied you by also dating a red head,”

He shrugs, “True. But if you really care about her, then you need to see all of this through her eyes. She’s probably just as scared as you. Look at her,” he points down towards the side of the house. Wanda is fluffing up Fanny’s face as Nat clips the harness on the dog. Fanny needs never ending walks when Yelena is away on mission and Wanda is always happy to take her. Usually you join her, but she didn’t come searching for you this time. 

“You can’t let her slip away.”

You shake your head, “And what if I die?”

Bucky sighs, crossing his arm over as his chin rests on the top of his beer, “You have got to stop thinking about every possible bad thing. What if I cut my finger on your broken tab and get an infection and I die? See? It’s stupid.”

Rolling your eyes, you toss your empty can into the trash, “Now, that’s just ridiculous,”

“You’re being ridiculous!” Bucky calls after you as you descend down the stairs, swinging your keys on your finger. 

The breeze follows you as you drive with the window of your truck down, the smell of evergreen trees growing the longer you drive. And you don’t drive too long, you spend longer sitting in the bed of the truck. Swinging your legs, you catch the sound of branches snapping and a soft voice talking. You chuckle, it sounds more like a therapy session with the occasional barking response of the therapist. 

Fanny makes it through the brush first and sees you. She takes off in a dead sprint, flinging herself straight into the back of the truck and climbing onto your back. You chuckle, 

“Oh, well now look who it is. Going on a walk without me? You traitor!” you laugh as the dog wiggles through any attempt you make at petting them. 

“You know dogs,” Wanda wraps the leash around her fingers, “They can sense bad energy.”

You hum, “As long as she got a proper walk. You know if you actually ran that whole five mile loop, it’s a decent warmup.”

“Oh really?” Wanda runs her hand down Fanny’s back, “And what if that was my cool down?”

“Pretty weak if I’m honest,” you scoot over slightly on the tailgate, “I do the out and back for my cool down.”

Wanda chuckles as she hauls herself up, Fanny keeping the two of you separated, “You’re so irritating,” Her green eyes glow as they reach yours, working down and seeing you’re still dressed in jeans and your button down, “You aren’t going out for your own warmup?”

You swing your legs, angling your boots that aren’t really made for running. She looks at you as you glance back up, watching how her pupils grow and a reddening in her cheeks as you both brush over the same part of Fanny, “What’s wrong?”

With a sigh, you think back on what Bucky said only a few moments ago, “Look. I need to make a few things clear here.”

Wanda’s face falls slightly as she sits ever so slightly rigid. She doesn’t speak a word, just waits for the bomb you’re about to drop on her lap. 

“I don’t like your weird vegan cardboard food that you make me eat once a week. It tastes like dirt, frankly.” you shiver at the thought of the last one she made you, “I don’t like that you’re seemingly right all the time. I don’t like that I need your help when I thought I was fine alone. And I definitely don’t like that you’re making me do this,”

Wanda grins slightly, “Do what exactly?”

Squeezing your fist and stretching out your fingers to attempt to release the energy inside of you, you look up at her, “Tell you that I like you. Just being completely and totally honest. I really like you.”

Her grin grows and her hand that brushed through Fanny’s fur rests on your cheek as her lips press against yours. You smile, her lips the softest things you’ve ever felt and this, the best kiss you’ve had, even with a handful of fur in your mouth.

“I owe someone a beer,” she whispers against your lips,

You groan, “I can’t believe you made a bet about this.”

“Forgive me?” she whispers, her lips pressing against your nose and watching your eyes open with a grin,

“Only if I get one too,”

________________________________

You sigh, staring into your mug of black liquid. It doesn’t steam but has white foam as you attempt to hide what it is to any passing person. Sipping from it, you grimace. Even though it’s not steaming, it isn’t pleasantly cold. Muttering to yourself, you pull your pant legs over your tied shoes and look into the mirror to finish getting dressed. One of the last things you seem capable of it seems. 

Tucking in your shirt tighter, you run your hand down and along your belt. Ensuring the buckle is centered, you work your eyes back up until they rest on themselves. They’re stained red, puffed and glistening more than usual. Pressing your hand against a small box in the breast pocket of the jacket you’ve slung over the chair, you feel a lump in your throat grow. 

Peering outside the window of the room you’re in, the gathering is an unusual energy. Something you’re certainly not used to. Granted, you aren’t really used to being here anyways. You always thought it was hot and stuffy and now, you know you’ll never be back. The beer is hot, you glance back at your mug, and the folk are cold. The time is young but there’s not a single person trying to rile anything up. If anything, they all want the time to end as quickly as possible. 

Buttoning the jacket as you step out of the room, there’s an unsubtle hush that falls over the room. Everyone is dressed up like you, scattered around the gathering area outside of stained glass with chairs that are somehow more uncomfortable than the pews inside. You feel old as you loiter around the area, giving subtle nods to people you pass as your fingers grip tighter to the mug in your hand. You just want to go home and away from this crowd of people. Their eyes on you because they know exactly why you’re here. Who you’re all waiting on.

A silver haired gentleman breaks through the crowd, his presence bringing whispers instead of hushed silence. As he makes his way towards you, he raises a thermos that should be holding coffee. But as he hands you the second one he holds, you grin  and see you’ve both learned the same trick. Beer looks so much like coffee. 

“You prepare anything?”

Sipping on the lukewarm liquid, you still can’t believe you forgot to put the cans in the fridge, “I was never one to write a speech. Besides, I might not have to.”

Pietro hums, “You’re like me than. Wanda could spew out a speech without a thought. That maid of honor one had everyone crying and the only thing she worked on was saying their names in Russian. Totally unfair,”

You never thought you’d have to make a speech in front of people. The plan was always to do it in private, together. The facts in front of you though, changed all your plans. 

“There’s gotta be something you say. Something that comes to mind when you hear her name.”

Your brows raise slightly, there’s a million things that come to your mind. You don’t know if many of them are appropriate for this moment though. They would be much better off staying inside of your brain. 

“Her eyes are like rarest emeralds and her kisses, they’re like rain. They can calm any ounce of nerves in my body,” you skim your thumb against your lip, wiping the spilled beer, “Always once to dance, always has to pull me up onto the dance floor. That’s the only reason I was dancing at your wedding,” you chuckle and every second feels like torture, “So many nights with that radio singing.”

You run your hand down your jacket, pausing over that box again, “And I can’t remember now what song it was when we… Not that it matters anyway.”

“It’ll always matters.”

Grimacing, you swallow the lump in your throat, “I don’t… I’m scared.”

Pietro slowly takes the thermos from your shaking hands, “We’ll walk in together?”

“Is that allowed?” you whisper, staring past the now empty courtyard to the large wooden doors as a bell tolls out. 

“You’re family.” The crack of his voice practically sends you to the ground in a crying heap, you can see it on his face. Everything about this day keeps him from hiding it all inside.

You wipe your face, feeling your trembling lips let out a trembling voice, “Piet. I never-,”

He pulls you in, arms wrapped too tight for you to even attempt to escape, not that you’d wanted to, “I know you would’ve. That’s all that matters to me.”

______________________________

The place you stepped into was dimly lit and packed to the brim with people waiting to get inside. A couple talked to the host, you caught the sight of money sneakily being passed over, trying to get a table. You nervously squeezed through hordes of people and waiters scrambling to their tables. You’d never been to such a fancy establishment and as you tried to rub the wrinkles from your suit, you hoped to never be back in one. 

“Oh man, I’m sorry for being late,” you leaned over and pressed a kiss against her cheek as you whispered, “Again,”

“Honey, you just came from overseas and you’re only a few minutes late,” her hand tightly wrapped around yours beneath the table, trying to find a sense of calm in this hurricane, “I think you’re okay,”

You grinned and looked up finally at the two pairs of eyes that sized up every move you made. You desperately tried to hide the itch in your throat as you tried not to cough, knowing your eyes were beginning to water. 

Wanda’s father reached forward and tore a piece of bread for himself and Wanda’s mother. They both buttered the pieces, carefully as if it was an egg shell. Her father didn’t eat it but instead just rested it back on his plate as he interlocked his fingers. 

“Where’d you come in from?”

You cleared your throat, quickly putting down your glass of water, “I’m not really allowed to talk about.”

“Well wherever it was,” her mother gave a look to Wanda before glancing down at your fingers, “Looks like they had you playing in the mud.”

You glanced down at the dirt trapped beneath your nails and the streaks of mud along your hand that were partially hidden beneath your shirt. You hid them beneath the table, sliding them slowly across your thighs. That itch was back and you tried to push back the image of Nat gasping for air as you finally broke through the collapsed tunnel. You had been digging nonstop, nearly giving up before a flare was shoved through an opening above you, scorching your neck. 

“Mom,” Wanda said through gritted teeth.

You chuckled, trying to make light of the whole situation, “You could say that, yeah. They did,” you voice quiets at the end, “Do we want some wine?”

Her mother hummed as she looked at the menu and Wanda nodded quickly, “Italian?”

You flagged the waiter down and dug deep into the recesses of your mind, pulling out the quick course you were forced to learn before a mission. You tried to speak with confidence as you ordered the Italian wine, closing the menu you glanced across the table. You were expecting impressed looks. But all you got was a continuation of a blank stare from her father and fake enthusiasm from her mother.

“So, you speak Italian, Y/N?”

Before you could speak, Wanda sat upward sharply, “They speak six languages,”

There were some hums, some nods but it was all a ruse for what the two across from you truly wanted to talk about. Wanda’s mother was the first to broach the subject.

“Regarding this, how does it work between you two? I mean with the amount of time you’re gone. Overseas,”

“Do you have any control of your schedule?” Her father was forthright with his questions, his fingers clenched tighter and you swallowed dryly.

Your thumb skimmed along Wanda’s hand, “Uh no, not really. I just get up and go when my team is called. Wherever we’re needed.”

“Following orders,”

There was hostility in his voice. You caught it right away and your brow cocked without a thought, “It is a government agency, sir.”

Wanda breathed in carefully, crossed her leg and rested her foot on your shin. 

“Doesn’t sound like there’s room for a stable home life. Doesn’t seem fair to ask that of a partner. Fear of worrying, of losing you while you’re out where you’re needed.”

You nodded slowly, not finding a lie in his words.

“Okay dad, I think I told you not-,”

You sat up straighter. She wasn’t going to fight your battles. You were here to win over her parents so you could add to the rings on her fingers. The man in front of you would never respect you if Wanda did all the talking.

“Yeah, I do have to go do things that I don’t exactly agree on. But I do it so people I love, like Wanda, don’t have to see what I see over where I’m needed here, at home. I don’t plan on doing this until I’m dead. I want a stable future with your daughter,” you glanced over at her and saw the glistening in her emerald eyes, “Have kids, find a way to help make this world a little bit better. I love Wanda and that’s not going to change.”

Her smile beamed over at you as she leaned and pressed her lips to your chin. You chuckled under your breath for her to hear, you felt good. You felt that the respect would finally come. You put your foot down and let your morals be known. You told them exactly what they wanted to hear. The truth. Wanda grabbed your hand and your grin fell when you saw the way her dad stared at you,

“Well, that’s good to hear, Y/N. Until you come home in a box. What about Wanda then?”

__________________________________

You walk inside the church, your eyes talking in everything around you. The pews are slowly filling up with people as they talk amongst each other. Everbloom roses litter the place, covering over the smell of incense that fills all the way up to the high ceilings above. They’re placed at each end of the pews and you gently touch each one on your way down the aisle. The music softly fills the space and hides the words that people are no doubt sharing with each other. You know what they’re saying. You’re all here for the same reason. Still, it puts a knot in the pit of your stomach. 

And then you see her.

A beautiful and perfect portrait made just for this day. You feel your breath push out from your lungs as your knees begin to tremble. The stinging of tears threatens to escape your eyes as you press a fist against your lips. 

“Hey,” a voice whispers from behind you and you turn, gripping tightly onto their arm, “You’re good.”

“Why am I here,” you clench your face as you move your vice like grip to the edge of a front row pew.

“You know why you’re here. Always is love, isn’t it?”

You scoff, glancing up at the red head with her own ring on her finger, “I messed up, Nat. I really messed up.”

Nat pulls you down with her, trying to get comfortable in the wooden seat, “We all do. No fight could ever end what you two shared.”

You grimace, running both hands down the front of your jacket. One hides a flask and the other that small box. She’s right but you didn’t want her to be right. You could never hate each other, none of your fights ever ended that way. Even though sometimes they did. Sometimes you thought you had really ended things forever, made her hate you beyond words. 

_______________________________

You knocked on the door loudly for the umpteenth time, swaying slightly from the alcohol in your system and slightly from nervousness. You stood there, thinking about what to say. The door whipped open before you could think of a proper greeting. Wanda saw you there and gave you a scolding look when she saw that case of beer next to your feet.

“Y/N,” her voice was tight, the arms that crossed in front of her were even tighter,

“Yeah,”

“I have neighbors. What’re you doing? I thought you were supposed to be hitting the town Bucky,” you could hear the tone as she said his name.

You sigh, “Well, you know. A beer with you sounded better.”

She rolled her eyes and pressed the door closer to her back as she saw your eyes try to peek inside. You sighed, “And I lost my house keys,”

“Oh, you don’t know how to breach a door? Or pick a lock?”

You patted your jeans, trying to muffle the sound of jangling metal, “Uh, can’t get there. Lost my car keys.”

Wanda sighed and stepped further into the threshold, trying to keep you from getting closer to the door, “Uber.”

You were running out excuses, “I misplaced my cellphone.”

Her green eyes glowed ever so slightly, her phone had been ringing and buzzing from the moment you left the bar, picked up this case of beer and until you started to slam on her door. 

She smiled softly, “Y/N, these are lies.”

“Okay, okay. You’re right. You got me, you got me.”

Wanda tilted her head, brows raised, “All right. Then tell me the truth,”

You sighed, “I already did. A beer with you sounds better. And… I’m sorry.”

Her eyes widened slightly. It was all you said. You added no words to try and explain anything. Just a pure apology. A pure understanding that you had messed up and you owned it. A step in the right direction for both of you. Wanda knocked her head against the threshold with a groan and kicked open the door with her foot. You leaned down and picked up the case of beer as she watched you carefully from her lean against the threshold. 

“I’m not sure I’ve ever heard you say that,” she admitted as you stepped past her and listened to the door lock. 

You rolled your eyes as she walked to the kitchen and replaced her ice cold beers with the lukewarm ones you brought her. She shook her head, “You need to remember to get cold beers. I won’t be here forever to remind you,”

You scoffed as you cracked open both cans, “When did you become a mother? That’s what my mother says to me,”

“One step at a time, buckaroo. You still need to learn to take care of yourself,” Wanda snatched the can from your hands, “Besides, I have to learn to relax. You can’t control your schedule.”

You nodded and took a sip with her, “I can control who I see when I’m home though,”

“You both were celebrating being alive and-,”

A hand was placed on her cheek as your lips found hers, “Don’t make excuses for me. I’m home. I’m yours.”

__________________________________

You never lied. You were her’s the moment you stepped off the Quinjet to the moment you stepped back on it. But those steps frequented more on than they did off. Something with the world needing more saving meant that you were working more overtime. Your schedule was creating problems and Wanda’s wasn’t any better. And when she was home, she was arguing with her parents about you while you sat and waited as dinner grew cold and colder. 

Efforts were put into trying to convince the team into putting you two on a mission together. Maybe you could fix your problems by kicking ass together. But that was quickly shot down and as much as you wanted to fight it, you knew it was the right decision. The two of you couldn’t work together. It would compromise the mission. You knew how you were when Wanda was injured. How your blood boiled. You’d lose every sense of duty to the mission if you ever saw Wanda get hurt in front of you. 

And as you remember that feeling, of undying devotion, the trembling in your knees grows once more as you reach out for something to hold on to. You have been able to ignore that trembling, just feeling it in your hands as you pressed them beneath your arms. The voice of the priest was nothing more than mumblings as you glanced over at those emerald eyes every few moments. The grin on her face brings back that knot in your stomach all over again, just like the very first time you saw her. 

As you reach out to keep yourself from stumbling, your hand rests on the perfectly shined box in front of you. Made just for an occasion like this, it was exactly what Wanda had wanted. Everything about today was planned far in advance because she knew, she always had to be the one prepared for the future. You barely could remember to put beer in the fridge. 

You glance over to the side once again, wondering how the brushstrokes captured all of her so perfectly. 

__________________________________

You sat at the bar, finishing the glass of caramel colored beer as another sweating glass is placed next to your hand. You raised the glass to the bartender as you started to walk towards the group. A hand grabbed your shoulder roughly and shook you, your beer slightly foaming out of the glass and spilling across your hand. 

Running your hand across the top, you flick the foam at Steve in retaliation, “Go get your own beer, you geyser!”

Steve laughed, “So, what about Wanda? You talk to her?”

You chuckled, picking at the peeling skin on your fingers, “Yeah, yeah, I talked to her. She’s good, man. She’s just, uh… She’s gotten really good at buying things to add to my ‘Honey Do List’,”

He ran his hand down the scruff on his face, “You’re sounding more and more like Buck over there. Except she traded her name for a band.”

“I heard it’s still Romanoff,”

Bucky rolled his eyes, “Only on mission,”

The table erupted into jeers as they chucked peanuts and pretzels at the escaping man but Steve was still staring at you. You chuckled, “I’m surprised she’s still there, honestly. I don’t know how she does it.”

“What do you mean?”

“Life after this. I mean, hero like her, how do you walk away from all this, you know? Work intelligence and tell us where to go.”

Steve scratches at his forehead, “Yeah but she’s still in the team. She works some ops and then makes you brisket for dinner.”

You grinned but shook your head, “Yeah but that’s it. This… this isn’t just a job. This is a, it’s a life. This is ten times the life most people live.”

“Okay. And you remember that she gave that up for you then. Now, go get us some beers, yeah?

You stood, “Listen man, if I ever lose sight of that… you tell me to go get my eyes checked.”

He smiled, “Let’s do that now, how many fingers am I holding up.” You watched as he held up his hand but they were not how you normally held up numbers. He twisted and contorted his hands, putting up three fingers sideways on one hand and another with only half a finger up. 

“What… what the hell is this? Jenga? Don’t worry, I know what she’s done,” you downed the rest of your beer and gently placed it down on the table, “We’re two people but one beating heart. I’m lucky enough to have that, so I’m gonna give it all of me.”

“Good,” he nodded, “Don’t ever forget that. Just give it all you got and fill up that pitcher, will you?” He flicked you with his empty, glass, droplet of beer dropping onto you, “you’ve been baptized, go get more of that holy liquid. Chop, ch-,”

As his hand smacked against your shoulder, the side of the bar slammed in towards you. The pitcher was ripped from your hand as debris blew up all around you. Through the ringing of your ears, you heard Steve talk to you. He asked if you were okay and as you blinked through the dirt in your eyes, you gathered your surroundings through the smoky haze around you, only seeing with the help of the neon lights. 

You climbed slowly up to your feet, wiping away glass in your arms as you started to help the team triage the people who were inside the bar. Bucky came running through the half caved in entrance and met you there, 

“You good man? It’s chaos out there,”

You glanced around you, “Yeah, yeah. We got a lot of people we need to help right now,”

Screams came from outside as people tried to escape the area and as you looked at the damage inside, you knew there had to be damage on the street. Jogging outside, carts of the street market are thrown all over the road. Food, souvenirs and debris littered the area. People called out for each other and there were others who were trying to stop anyone to help them. You stopped for them. 

Grabbing people form the street and carrying them inside for the team to start working on them. You coughed at the smoke that was inside the bar and the dust you inhaled from the blast, but you kept working. You directed people away from the blast zone, telling them to go to the hospital to find anyone missing. 

A younger yell caught your attention as you whipped around and saw a young boy in the middle of the street. Blood poured down his arm, dirt covered him from head to toe. 

“Aysha!”

You jogged over to him, “Hey, Aysha what? What’s Aysha?”

The little boy held up a burnt pink teddy bear and you eyes widened, “My sister, Aysha!”

“Aysha!” You yelled out and held out your hand for the child to stay there, “Hold on, Aysha!”

You started to head down the street, peering into parked trucks and underneath them. Trying to listen out for anything above the wailing sirens and screams. A few paces down the street and you hear the soft sob of a child. You jogged back to a truck and saw a small child had curled up on the floor of truck. As you opened the door, you kneel down and meet their terrified gaze,

“Aysha?”

They nodded and you quickly grabbed them, running them back to their older brother, “My friend Clint is gonna take you two inside, okay? He’s gonna keep you safe.” Clint had exited the bar quickly and takes the child from your arms, guiding the older one inside for refuge. 

“You good, Y/N?” He asked quickly as you wiped blood from your ears, 

“I’m good, go help Steve. I’m going back out.” 

You glanced down the street, watching people take the last of the limping and injured out and away. You walked behind the last of them, ensuring they made it out of the perimeter and clearing the way for the ambulances that were no doubt on the way. As you threw a destroyed cart out of the way, you froze as you heard a phone begin to ring. 

Beside a parked car, you saw a lone backpack hidden behind the back tires. You barely have time to remember the lecture you had taken about bombers. Always check for secondary devices. 

________________________________

You clear your throat as your thumb strokes along the lid of the box. 

There was one thing Wanda didn’t decide. She left it up to you and you wish she hadn’t. It was something you didn’t want to think about. It made all of this real and you couldn’t escape from it. 

Open casket or closed. 

“I hate all of this…” you whisper, your finger following each grain of the wood, “You knew I would. You took care of everything. You took care of me and I…it went to hell. We had one too many long nights away. The dish broke and I can’t remember whose fault it was. Not that it matters anyway.”

Trying to breath through your clogged nose, you take another glance at that portrait that captures her so perfectly in time. The way her hair fell to frame her face, you even notice the small lines of the scrunch of her nose.

Something you saw nearly every night, after a shared kiss. If you tried hard enough, you could convince yourself that you could still smell her, feel the cold touch of her hand on yours. 

“You left me standing in that driveway dust and cranked your car and drove away. Just some time, Piet told me when you dropped your bags off there. Maybe I should’ve gone there. Maybe I should’ve brought you back home. But I signed up for that damn mission.” your lips tremble, “I nearly died. You picked up that mission. You did die.”

Chuckling, you press your hand against your mouth as it nearly turns into a sob, “Guess you did still love me. Revenge, right? That’s what it was? I was still in surgery when you left. Maybe I could’ve convinced you to stay. You shouldn’t have been there. I can take a bullet, you can’t. And I’ll ask why for the rest of my life. And I’ll never come to understand it, even if this god came in front of me and told me why.”

Hot tears run down your face as you grip the small box through your jacket, “I can’t recall if we said goodbye. But,” you take out the small box and carefully pry open the leather, watching how the ruby reflects the candlelight around it.

Gently, you rest it on top of the lid, “I’ll try to remember the beer. And I’ll say goodbye, now that you’re gone.”

__________________________

#wanda #wanda maximoff #wanda marvel #wanda x reader #wanda maximoff x reader #scarlet witch #scarlet witch x reader #wanda fanfic #wanda maximoff fanfic #wanda angst #wanda imagine #wanda maximoff angst #wanda maximoff imagine #wanda x you #wanda x y/n #wanda mcu

[wisteriadumster]

Meadows ❥ John Masrton

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John Marston x Female Reader

CW➻❥ drinking★smoking★unprotected sex★oral m! receiving★creampie★if I missed anything lmk!➻❥

WC➻❥1,525➻❥This isn't well proof read so any mistakes or odd things are purely accidental.

Summary➻❥ Somehow John managed to think of a cute little date, a drink in a flower meadow. With liquor down your system and some growing attraction, one thing led to another. Who knew a cute Pinterest date could evolve into you riding John Marston like a horse. Even after sex he needs more of you.

─────── ･｡ﾟ☆:*.☾ ·☽.* :☆ﾟ. ───────

*✧･ﾟ:* WisteriaDumster original work.*:･ﾟ✧*

─────── ･｡ﾟ☆:*.☾ ·☽.* :☆ﾟ. ───────

"This is awfully romantic of you," the words spill out as you watch John set down a tattered blanket. "I wouldn't say that, I just, had a fun idea." He turns back to his horse, "and besides we're just drinking, does drinking have to be romantic?"

He pulls two bottles of bourbon out, you laugh. "You're telling me that being in a flower meadow with a blanket set out doesn't scream romance?" The scoff in your voice is apparent.

His hand helps you sit on the scratchy cover.

"Why did you even agree to do this with me?" He hands you a freshly open bottle of bourbon. "I don't know, a nice escape, a haven, or something stupid," you shrug before taking a hard swig.

"So this was stupid idea?"

"Surprisingly no, the offer is much appreciated." You roll your eyes, he smiles as his bottle touches his lips.

A thought crosses your mind again, it had come when he first asked you, Abigail.

This time you finally decided to ask.

"Won't Abigail be upset?"

He smiles, "we're not together are we?" Another sip of his bourbon goes down.

You set your own bottle in the grass, and start to crawl over towards John. "So that means I can do this right?" Your faces are close, you sit on your ankles and feet, right before cupping his face and pull him in for a kiss.

He doesn't deny it and cups yours, pushing you down to lay against the blanket.

His kisses were sloppy and persistent, like he had been wanting this longer than you have.

His body finally on top yours, his leg swinging over your hip, covering the bright sun rays.

His hands are practically glued to you as his elbows hold his body, his thumbs caressing your cheeks so delicately but so rough because of his calluses.

Your hands aren't much different, well maybe not glued to his cheek, but still glued.

They unbuttoned his vest, trying to pry for his shirt underneath, to reach the goal of his bare chest.

You go back to his cheeks and with pushing you manage to make him roll over, bringing you back on top.

The kisses are paused as you both unbutton restricting clothing.

He admires your breasts as the last button pops from its place, you are unfazed and finish the last button of his own shirt.

You go back for more kissing, unable to leave the taste of leftover liquor and tobacco.

His hands cup your breasts over your underwear, teasing to pull it down.

You let a soft moan go into his lips, you feel his whole body shudder, telling you how horny he truly was.

"I need you," John whispers as you pull back to pull down your undershirt. "Well have me then," you scoot down his legs.

You place your pointer and middle fingers down at the top of his chest, slowly they come down to the buttons of his jeans.

"Should I, or would that be unholy," you tease.

"Never claimed to be a Saint." He removes his gun belt and slides it off, your hands opening up his jeans. The sight of red fabric and more buttons greets you, his hard cock throbbing to be out.

You glide your hand up and down, an unexpected groan leaving him from the sudden touch.

While you continue to tease him, he lights a cigarette and takes a hard drag.

You finally start to unbutton, his cock springing out.

You stare at the size, surprised that he managed to have all that.

You don't waste time letting some spit come out and onto his tip.

Groans and smoke leave his lips as you suck, every time your head bobbed to the top you'd swirl and twist your tongue around his head which would almost release a whimper from John every time.

"Don't stop whatever you're doing," but you do, "I have better qualities than just that."

You get off his legs and remove your skirt and lingering underwear.

Taking the cigarette from him and as it sits in your mouth, you get on top, cowgirl style.

You tried not to react but couldn't hold it, the cigarette falling from your mouth as you gasp, a cloud of smoke following behind.

John is quick to grab the cigarette and finish it off before flicking it into the grass.

His attention directs back to you as your hands go on his ribs, his grabbing your hips.

Slowly you begin to go up and down, taking the pace calmly, adjusting to his size moving inside of you.

The palms of your hands dig into his for support as the speed increases.

Much like your lack of not reacting you can't be quiet, but there's no one around for miles.

After adjusting he starts to move his own hips, doing his best to move them in a circle, something he learned was a real winner, and it definitely was.

Somehow you were managing to get faster and faster, your moans getting louder and louder turning into awfully horny screaming.

John isn't quiet either, groans and grunts are leaving him as you wrap around his cock tightly.

"Oh god I think I'm gonna cum," you manage out as your nails start to dig into his shoulders.

You leaned down, your tits smacking his chest if they managed enough speed.

A hand left your hip as John pushes your head down, kissing you again.

The kiss is hard to keep with lots of noise coming out, you stay for as long as your body could handle it.

You go back up, your palms pushing into his ribs again as your head hangs back. The sun is bright, not a cloud in sight, you look back to John, he's not gonna make it much longer than you will.

And just like that your climax hits, the loudest and longest moan leaves your chest, every nerve in your body gives out, your body falling onto his chest. John grips your hips even tighter and continues to fuck you, thrusting even harder through your climax.

Just as your high is ending the sudden feeling of being filled takes you, much like you his groan is loud. "Holy fuck," He lifts his head up to look down, only for it fall back down.

You move your head from his shoulder and neck and kiss him.

His cock twitched inside you still, "I've never enjoyed being a sinner more than right now." He lets out and you roll off him, you look at him, the sun making his sweaty body look extra delicious.

"That was probably the best sex I've ever had." Your chest is rising up and down fast, your pants are quiet somehow.

"I need a drink, Jesus," he sits up, and looks around at the mess of the blanket: clothes everywhere, a new cigarette burn, a spilt bottle of precious bourbon, and two extremely satisfied people.

John leans over to your bottle that sat nicely in the grass. He takes a swig and looks to you, he raises the bottle and puts it near you, basically asking if you'd like any.

You sit up and grab the bottle, as you finish the last of the alcohol, John stares and admires every bit of your body.

"Instead of sitting there looking like a pretty little lady, would you mind help cleaning up?"

He laughs and takes the empty bottle from you, "I don't know, I'm quite tired from that run you had on me, might need assistance." Your eyes roll before he can even finish his sentence.

You kneel in between his legs and stare down, "I've done nothing and you're hard again?" He laughs out the smoke from his newly lit cigarette, "next time." The sheer disappointment and just utter shock hits him like a brick. You roll some fingers up and around his cock for a few minutes, his body quivering, still trying to recover from his previous cumming.

Before anything can advance you tuck away his dick, slowly turning limp.

"Did you really just do that?" Disbelief covers his face, "I really just did." You finish buttoning his red undercover, smoke comes into your direction, "asshole."

You finish buttoning his jeans and stand up, "you can do your own shirt and vest." You walk over and steal the cigarette from him once again.

Finally John's fully dressed, this time dressing you. His eyes can't leave your cleavage as he buttons it up with your blouse.

"Can you hurry we've got to go,"

"Let me enjoy this one last time." John finishes and fixes your collar, "who said this would be the last time?" You tease with a look that sends John over the moon. "Oh you keep me hungry, I may need a bite again tonight," he moves in and kisses your neck, little bites send several sensations throughout your body.

You slide back and look down, "we can't, seriously."

The ride back was quiet: small talk about the gang, bits of flirting thrown in.

Oh you couldn't wait for what he held in for tonight.

─────── ･｡ﾟ☆:*.☾ ·☽.* :☆ﾟ. ───────

#fanfic #fanfiction #writing #john marston #smut #red dead fanfic #red dead redemption 2 #red dead redemption #john marston smut #john marston fic #john marston fanfic #john marston rdr2

[tiredofthehumanlife]

Wtf is even a muse?

Barbie dolls: regulus black x reader

Words: barely 900

Summary: you always wanted to be the muse not the artist turns out you already were

Warnings: reader is an artist, over usage of the word muse but that's pretty much it

You loved your quiet time with Regulus. Interacting with other people, even in silence, was draining. But not with Regulus. It was different with him. On the walls of the courtyard, sitting in the cutout along the corridor. You liked staring out into the courtyard and watching the breeze. Regulus liked sitting across from you with his knees pulled up and his sketchbook in his lap. You liked spending quiet time with him more than others bc he still interacted with you. Regulus always had some part of himself touching you. His foot tucked under your leg, his calf pressed against your thigh, his knee to yours, whatever you would give him really. It felt like he was still reminding you he appreciated you being there even if you hadn't spoken in hours.

You watched two first years wrestling across the yard. You then noticed another student with a canvas set up, painting away. Sitting in front of them was truly a beautiful student but you were more focused on the fact the artist was painting their muse. You squinted and pressed your lips together.

"You know I actually always wanted to be a muse. Like for an artist." You said as you kept your eyes following the swaying grass. Regulus glanced up from his sketchbook. He paused his drawing to watch you.

"Yeah?" You nodded, turning your head to face him. You gave him a small smile.

"Yeah but I always ended up the artist instead. I don't know I guess I'm just not muse material." You shrugged and looked back at the wrestlers. You didn't really mean it to sound sad. You were just talking really, yammering about bc you hadn't spoken in so long you felt like your throat would close. Regulus heard it though, the small bit out discomfort in your voice.

"I'm sure you're someone's muse." He said as he looked back down at his sketch. Regulus' pencil was scraping against the paper in a rhythmic pattern. If he wasnt talking your ear off, god shut up Regulus, you would've fallen alseep.

"Oh haha." Regulus jerked his head up at you, now just confused.

"I'm being serious." He regretted the words the second he said them. The way you turned your head with a growing grin revealed your plan to him immediately.

"Thought that was your brother." Regulus glared at you as you laughed at your own joke. You complimented yourself, giving a high-five to yourself, before looking back at the first years.

"I was being genuine, though. I'm 100% certain you're someone's muse." Regulus rolled his eyes before looking back at his paper. He was truly just annoyed for show, Regulus would spend his very last breath reassuring you. You shrugged and ignored his presence. You were getting uncomfortable with the vulnerability. The courtyard would never betray you with gross human emotions.

"Actually I know you're someone's muse." Regulus muttered. You rolled your eyes.

"Hey did you ever finish that astronomy assignment?" Regulus glared at you. He raised an eyebrow, telling you he knew exactly what you were doing.

"You're not going to ask? No that's okay I'll just forget we ever talked about this and never give you that information." Regulus said, shrugging as he focused back on his paper. You sighed and dropped your head to the side.

You had found Regulus sitting under a tree, reading his book. So you laid in the sun near him, without a word, and took a nap. Just being around him was relaxing. Soon enough you heard Regulus moving around, you thought he was planning on getting up. You turned your head, to find him pulling out his sketchbook. You rolled your eyes and smiled. Of course that's what he was doing. Regulus asked you what you were laughing at. You shrugged and looked back to him. His cheeks were pink, from the sun, you assumed. Regulus gave you a gentle smile. One that he was fighting, trying to push down his lips again. His pencil started moving against the paper. You smiled at the familiar sound, closing your eyes again.

"Fine. Go on then, who do I muse-ify?" Regulus shook his head at your made up word. He gently set down his pencil next to him. Regulus pulled his sketchbook up before turning it around.

There, over ever inch of the page, was you. Your face was turned to the side, still sitting in the position you were now. Obviously what Regulus was working on now. You were stunned, it was beautiful. His lines and shading and smudges, all his effort to replicate you to his page, was amazing. Regulus gently reached out and turned the page to the one before. You again. You were smiling wide, this one had watercolor. Regulus paid attention to the shirt you wearing, getting particularly meticulous with the pattern. He turned the page again. Shockingly it was you. You were laying down in this one. On your back in the grass. You remembered what this was from.

Regulus showed you more pages, each one a different version of you. You stopped looking at the drawings eventually. Your eyes drifting up to Regulus. He spent so long recreating you, just because he thought you looked like art.

For the first time, Regulus was the artist, you were the muse. You never even knew. Regulus looked up from his art, he found your bright smile staring back at him. He crooked his head to the side, very confused. You moved to sit next to Regulus. You scooted as close to him as you could, your body pressing into his. You pecked his cheek before leaning your head in his shoulder. Regulus turned his head, smiling into your hair.

#regulus black #trans regulus #regulus black x reader #trans reggie #reggie black #regulus x you #regulus x reader #regulus black x #trans regulus black #marauders era #marauders #the marauders #the marauders era #the maraunders map #regulus deserved better

[slusheeduck]

Fictober23 Day 19 - Prompt: "Give me that, before anything happens." Fandom: Baldur's Gate 3

“Falerin, darling, the embroidery on your gloves is coming undone. It’s making me nervous.”

Falerin, bruised and battered after their most recent encounter with a set of Absolute cultists, looked over at Astarion, equally bruised and battered, as they returned to camp. He blinked. “Is this…really the time?” He shook his head. “I’ll just pull it out in the morning.”

“No, you will not.” Astarion’s hand was out, making a little grabby motion. “Just…give me that, before anything happens.”

Falerin sighed, rolling his eyes, but he handed them over. “Have fun. I’m going to go wash up.”

He did go wash up. By the time he returned to camp, his gloves’ embroidery was neatly restored, with a few holes darned up as well.

-

“Lae’zel, far be it from me to discourage showing more skin, but your shirt’s about thirty seconds from falling to pieces.”

Lae’zel whirled around at Astarion’s comment, eyes narrowed. “The target is just ahead. My shirt is immaterial.”

“Well, it’s nearly there.” Astarion held out his hand. “Let me fix it. It won’t take ten minutes, and you won’t be embarrassed when we do our good deed and you’re left in rags.” His fingers twitched in a silent give it here. “I’ll close my eyes if you’re feeling bashful.”

Lae’zel huffed and rolled her eyes, but she did stop long enough to shrug off her shirt and hand it over to Astarion. She watched as he pulled a needle, already threaded, from his pack, and settled down beside him to watch as he fixed it up.

“Why do you have that with you? It’s…unhelpful.”

“Perhaps to you,” he said, squinting as he lined up a large tear. “If I’m going to be killed by mind-flayers or goblins or cultists or what have you, I’m going to make sure I’m an exquisite corpse. Well, more than I am now, anyway. And I don’t want any of you bringing that legacy down because you look like a bunch of vagrants.”

True to his word, the shirt was fixed in under ten minutes. He held it back out to Lae’zel, who pulled it on. Her brows drew together.

“It’s…sturdier than I remember.”

“Well, part of that is because it was just barely hanging together. I reinforced the stitching along the arms.” He tucked the needle away and go to his feet. “Now that that’s done, let’s go hurt some people.”

-

Gale squinted at the pillow he’d picked up in the goblin camp. It…could do for Tara, if she came back around. A little threadbare, yes, but in decent enough condition.

“Looking at decorating?” Astarion drawled as he walked past. “I don’t think that really matches the rest of your décor.”

Gale sighed. “It’s for Tara. If she comes back—and I’m sure she will—I won’t hear the end of it if I make her sit in the grass.”

Astarion paused. “You’re getting…that for Tara? Are you trying to make her feel like a pauper?”

Gale huffed. “I don’t exactly have the luxury of stopping into a shop, do I?” He shook his head. “It’ll have to do.”

“It will not.” Astarion held out his hand. “Give it here.”

Gale looked over at him curiously, but shrugged. “If you can make it nicer, be my guest.”

The next morning, a “Gale, here” was all the warning the wizard got before getting a decorative pillow thrown directly at his face. He caught it after a slight fumble, then looked it over. It was the pillow he’d been looking at the night before, with a new lease on life from the look of it—the stitching had been reinforced and formerly threadbare flowers and vines restored. Most notably, though, was the large, flourished embroidery that read “Tara” in big letters along one side.

Gale blinked, bewildered. “That’s…thank you, Astarion, that’s surprisingly kind of you.”

Astarion scoffed. “It’s hardly kind. I did it because that’s what Tara deserves.”

-

“…you’re going to be here all week if you think that’s the best way to get stitching out.”

Shadowheart jumped, and she glanced back behind her at Astarion. She sighed, looking back down at the altar cloth in her hands. It was black and silky, with a mangled cluster of silver embroidery in the corner. She sighed.

“It used to have a prayer, down there,” she said quietly. “To the Lady of Sorrows. I really should just toss the whole thing out, but I…” She glanced over as Astarion held out his hand, fingers twitching. “Will…you throw it out for me?”

“Maybe.” He took the cloth from her, looking it over appraisingly. “Or maybe a black silk scarf will look terribly dashing on me. Either way, I’ll take care of it.”

Shadowheart gave a small nod, taking a breath. “I think I’ll go to bed. You can…do what you’d like with that.”

“Oh, I intend to. Good night, darling.” He sauntered off.

A few days later, as Shadowheart came out of her tent, she was greeted with her altar cloth neatly folded on a stool. The original embroidery had been removed without a trace, and instead of the expanse of black, a charming scene of a night sky had been embroidered into the silk, with a detailed moon hanging in the corner.

-

Astarion tried to ignore what he saw in the corner of his eye. He focused harder on his book, but the little brown blur in his peripheral didn’t go away. Not only that, but it got closer. Finally, he sighed and shut his book to look at the stuffed bear right beside his face. Behind it, Karlach wore a pleading expression.

“Asti?”

“You only call me that when you want something.” He clicked his tongue and rolled his eyes. “Did you rip him again?”

“His ear caught on my armor when we were moving camp.” She turned Clive’s head, showing an ear just barely hanging on to his head. “Can you…?”

Astarion rolled his eyes, then held out his hand. Clive was deposited, and Karlach waited in eager anticipation as he went into surgery. After a few deft stitches, Astarion snipped the thread, then looked him over.

“His leg’s a bit loose, give me a moment,” he murmured, going back in with his needle. Shortly after, Clive—good as new—was held out to the tiefling. “Be more careful with him.”

“You’re the best, Asti,” Karlach gushed, giving Clive a squeeze before heading back to her tent.

-

“Wyll, you are causing me physical pain. Stop.”

Wyll looked up from his work. The shoulder of his cloth armor had torn in their last tussle, and he was using their bit of downtime to stitch it back up. Across from him, Astarion was leaning forward, hand against his mouth and red eyes boring into the warlock.

“I’m…just trying to fix it up. I do this all the time.”

“And you’re using a whip stitch?” Astarion held out his hand. “Give it to me. I can’t bear anymore of this torture.”

Wyll hesitated. “You really don’t have to.”

“Oh, yes I do. I’m not saving the world with someone who’s dressed like a scarecrow.”

Wyll sighed, then handed the armor, needle, and thread over. He scooted a bit closer as Astarion got to work. “I’m surprised you’re so good with a needle and thread.”

“Well, if Cazador couldn’t be bothered to give me more than rats to eat, it shouldn’t be surprising that I was on my own to keep from wearing rags.” He squinted at the tear, then set to work; his stitches were so neat and small that they disappeared into the cloth. “Besides, two hundred years of imprisonment is a very long time, even for elves. You need a hobby if you’re going to get out with your sanity intact. Embroidery’s good for that.”

Wyll smiled. “Maybe you could make a nice living on that once we’re done. Set up a nice tailor shop.”

Astarion scoffed. “Go on the straight and narrow? Wyll, you’re adorable, but there’s plenty of unattended goods out there just begging to find their way into my pockets.” He finished up his stitching, giving the armor an experimental tug before he snapped off the thread. “There. Do try to be more careful, and for the gods’ sake, just bring it to me before you butcher your next piece of apparel.” Fictober 2023 Drabble Master Post

#fictober23 #baldur's gate 3 #bg3 #astarion #wyll ravengard #gale #shadowheart #lae'zel #karlach #clive the bear #Camp seamstress Astarion is canon I'll fight you on it

[angry-trashcan]

Welcome Home

Part fourteen to Hair Holds Memories

Warnings: Mentions of past abuse, fainting, reader uses they/them pronouns. Let me know if I missed anything.

2.1K WC

(First) (Read on AO3)

You looked back at Ravio. His face held a small, fake smile as he waved slowly. His robes blew in the gentle breeze of the clearing. “Be safe.”

You nodded, “We will.” Before turning back and stepping through the portal, hand in hand with Legend. The darkness faded quickly as the bright light from the new world over took your vision. You were the last one through, taking in your surroundings slowly as your eyes tried to adjust.

The smell of magnolia blossoms flew through the air. Bees danced around honeysuckles on an old fence. Your vision blurred.

“Anyone know where we are?” Time’s voice sounded like a distant echo to your ears as you looked to the familiar tree line beyond the small field.

“Not mine, there’s too many trees.” Wind piped up.

“The air smells sweet though. Maybe it’s spring?” The voices melded together as you fell to your knees.

“Y/N! Are you okay?!”

“It may have been the portal.”

“The portal usually doesn’t affect them, though!”

There were too many voices at once as you looked up to the trees above you. A large white flower dropped a pedal as your eyes went black.

<><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><>

You awoke to the smell of cooking meat.

“These woods make good huntin’.” Twilight’s voice was light from somewhere near you.

“They really do. You caught this not far away, huh?” Wild responded.

“Yeah, it’ll feed us good for a few meals.” The conversation was carried on quietly as you opened your eyes and looked around. It seems like they had set up a camp right where you had fallen. You were laying on your bedroll, covered with your blanket along with Twilight’s pelt. It was warm, too warm for the spring air. The rest of the group were sat around the fire Wild was cooking at or talking amongst themselves on their own bedrolls. You sat up slowly, letting the too-warm blankets fall from you.

“Y/N?” Hyrule called from somewhere to your right. You looked to him. He had a soft smile on his face, trying hard to conceal the worry underneath. “I’m glad you’re awake. How are you feeling?” He made his way over to you and sat on his knees next to you.

You shrugged, “I’m okay. I’m sorry that happened. I don’t know why I did that.”

He shook his head, putting a hand on your leg, “Don’t be sorry. We all figured it was the portal. As long as you’re okay that’s what matters.” He gently squeezed your leg before standing and offering you a hand. “Let’s get you something to eat. It will help whatever left over feelings you may have.” He pulled you up and held your hand as you walked to the fire.

“Oh, you’re up!” Wild exclaimed, wrapping his non-cooking arm around your legs from where he sat.

“How are you feeling, love?” Warriors asked, concern plastered across his brow.

“I’m okay. Just hungry now.”

“Well then come sit and let’s get something in your stomach. Wild says dinner will be done soon.” Warriors moved over on his log to make room for you. You crossed the group and sat next to him, Hyrule taking a place next to your legs on the grass.

Time looked at you hard from a few seats over, “Are you sure you’re alright? You gave us all a scare there.”

You nodded again, “I’m sure. I think I was in a bit of shock is all.”

“From the portal?” Four asked the question with a hint of confusion in his tone.

You sighed, “No, not from the portal.”

“Come on, you couldn’t have been that attached to the merchant.” Wind laughed out, causing everyone to shoot a glare his way.

“No, no it wasn’t leaving Ravio.” You looked down into the cooking pot, watching the venison simmer.

“Then what is it, darlin’? You cain’t just leave us all in wonderin’ after that.” Twilight asked.

You felt your nails dig into your other hand as you spoke up, “This is my home.”

A silence fell.

.

.

.

.

.

“What’s his name.” Legend’s words weren’t a question.

“Legend-“ Warriors began.

“I’ve already told you that if we ever ended back up here, I was taking care of it. What’s his name.”

Your shoulders gave in a bit, not answering.

“If you don’t tell me I will find out myself, Y/N. He’s going to pay for what he did to you.” Legend continued, his eyes now baring a hole into you.

“Legend. That’s enough.” Time’s voice carried across to the other man.

“No, no it’s not. I’m going to find that bastard an-“

“Please. Please, stop.” A cry came from your throat. Warriors put an arm around you, pulling you into him. The chain’s eyes cycling between you and Legend.

He stood, “I’m taking first watch. I’ll eat later.” He made his way into the trees before he was out of view.

You steadied your breathing, trying to comprehend the situation.

“We aren’t going to do anything we were asked not to do.” Four spoke.

You nodded against Warriors side. “Thank you.”

“I hate what he did as much as the next, but I’m not going to go against your wishes.” Sky explained, his hand gripping into tight fists.

“I told you I wouldn’t let you get hurt again. I intent to follow through with that.” Hyrule looked up at you from his place on the ground, a soft smile on his lips. You pulled away from Warriors for a moment to meet the smile, running your hands over the mark on your hand.

You sat up, wiping the tears from your cheeks. “My village is just beyond the tree line. It won’t take long to get there from where we are. I know the woods well enough to get there in the daylight.”

Time nodded, “We can leave in the morning then. If you aren’t comfortable being in the town, we can camp. But we will need to go into town to get supplies occasionally.”

You shook your head, “No, I’ll be fine. My family home is outside of the town a bit. And besides, I have y’all. Who is going to bother me when I have my own personal attack dogs?” Twilight shook his head, holding back a small smile and Warriors bumped your side.

“That’s right! Nobody’s gonna fuck with you!” Wind shouted. Sky hit the back of his head causing an argument.

<><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><>

You headed the group beside Time, leading the way through the woods. Your earlier guess was right, it was spring. Small colorful flowers littered the forest ground and occasional large white pedals would fall from trees.

“It won’t be much farther from here. I think we should cut through town and go to my family home. I’ll talk to my mother and see if we can all stay there.” Time agreed.

“If it’s a burden we can stay at the inn. It was plenty big to fit us all last time we were here.” His armor clanking as he walked kept a steady rhythm.

“Time?” You asked, looking up at him.

“Hmm?”

“I never got to tell my mother, brother or grandmother goodbye. I probably just disappeared in their eyes. And it’s been over a year now. I’m worried what’s going to happen when they see me.” Your hand brushed his but you decided not to grab it.

“I think they will be glad to see you home and safe. I’m sure they have been worried, but those worries are going to end soon.” He looked down at you, giving you a small smile. Something else hid behind his eye. Was it regret?

“I guess you’re right.”

“Aren’t I always?” He chuckled a bit before you bumped his side. He snatched your hand up in his own, bringing it to his lips. “We’ll be right there with you.”

The village was soon in view. Thatched roofs and brick walls sticking out through the trees. Music carried through the main street, falling out of a pub full of day drinkers. Warriors elbowed Legend and made a small comment about them visiting later as the group walked by. Paper lanterns of all different shapes and sizes hung over head. Blowing in the breeze of the morning. Fresh bread sat out on a small cart next to an open door to a bakery, the sweet smell filling your senses. The group finally made it to the other end of town and to a small split in the roads.

“The village is very homey. I forgot how much I liked it.” Sky noted.

You nodded, smiling. “It is. I really do love it here.” Time’s hand tightened on yours as you veered left in the road.

“I can see why. It reminds me of Hateno.” Wild smiled as he spoke.

“And Hateno reminds me of here. They’re similar in a lot of ways I think.” The road lead back into the forest, though this time not as thick. A small clearing soon came, light shining onto a small cabin. Smoke came from the top of it. In the side of it stood a target with nearly a dozen arrows sticking out of it. Many right on the mark. So he has gotten better.

You took in a deep breath, removing your hand from Time’s as they followed you to the door. You let out another breath before reaching for the handle. The door opened before you could do it.

“I’ve told you a million times to clean up your damn mess outside, son! I will not have arrows layin’ around everywhere you hea-“ The woman turned to face the open door and dropped the basket of clothing from her hands.

“Hi, mom.” You stuttered out. She enveloped you in a hug. Soft sobs coming from her as she held you to her.

“Mom, I’ll clean them up later. Do you need help carrying that out or something?” The younger boy came around the corner to see the two of you in the doorway. “Y/N?” His voice caught as he ran to the two of you, wrapping both of you in his arms as his own tears began to fall. When had he gotten so tall?

The three of you sank to the ground together, rocking and crying for a few moments before the woman pulled away. She put your face into her hands, staring through her glassy eyes as if she was seeing the dead walk. “It really is you.” She whispered out. “I- I thought-“

“But it’s okay. I’m here.” You covered one of her hands with your own, wiping her tears with your other.

“Y/N, we thought you were dead.” The young man spoke, his voice cracking. You looked to him with your own tears.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to leave you like that. It wasn’t my choice.” You moved your hand to the boy’s face, wiping his tears as well. “Come on, lets get inside and I’ll explain everything.” You slowly stood, helping your mom to her feet.

“Y/N, I’m sorry to ask. But who are all of these people?” Your brother was giving the chain a hard look over.

You couldn’t help but laugh a bit. Then stopped suddenly. How am I supposed to introduce my eight boyfriends and adopted brother?

“These are my, um.” You looked around, trying to meet their eyes for support. Wild’s thumbs up was all you got in response. You took yet another deep breath. No point in lying.

“Mom, Jayco. These are my traveling companions.” You stepped towards them, intending to introduce them all. “This is Time, he’s my boyfriend.” You notice Time react to that but ignore it. Your mom makes a small gasp and your brother snickers. Moving over to Twilight. “This is Twilight. He is also my boyfriend.” Your mom gasps again, this time louder.

“Wait a second, two?” You ignore her.

“This is Four. He’s my boyfriend.” Your mom looks to your brother who has a dumb founded face. You work your way through the chain to Wind.

“And last but not least, this is Wind. He’s basically my little brother at this point.” Your brother shifts awkwardly between his feet at the comment.

“Okay, I see. Well, come on in everyone. There’s not much space but we can make do.” Your mom motioned for everyone to follow her inside.

Legend caught your hand before you could follow. Turning to him, he had a small smile. “That was very brave of you.” You shook your head.

“No, bravery isn’t telling the truth.”

“It’s doing the right thing. And that was the right thing.” He finished, interlacing his fingers with yours and making the way to the front door.

(NEXT)

I will add the AO3 link as soon as it's back up!

#LU #linked universe #lu legend #lu twilight #lu legend x reader #lu twilight x reader #lu four #lu four x reader #lu hyrule #lu hyrule x reader #lu time #lu time x reader #lu sky x reader #lu sky #lu warriors #lu warriors x reader #lu wind #lu wild #lu wild x reader #lu headcanons #linked universe headcanons #poly!chain #chain x reader #also known as I have been planning that first scene and the next few chapters since I started writing this #y'all are in for it now

[bratshaws]

through the hourglass 238. brb x oc

a/n: just get ready yall. just get ready (comments and reblogs are super welcome and encouraged!)

pairing: plus size!oc x rooster

warnings: none uwu

goodness gracious (pls read this one to know more what this fic is about!!)

chapter

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-

The evening sun cast a warm, golden hue over the park as Rooster, Beatrice, and their girls enjoyed a leisurely stroll. The sounds of children's laughter and the gentle rustling of leaves in the breeze created a serene backdrop for their family outing. 

But beneath the surface of their idyllic family moment lingered a sense of unease. Rooster couldn't shake the unsettling feeling that had come over him during his conversation with Mark. His questions had been too probing, his curiosity too invasive, and it left Rooster with a nagging sense of discomfort.

As they reached a bench that was close enough to the playground so Bianca could run around, Rooster paused and gazed out at the grass, his mind still preoccupied with the encounter. Beatrice noticed the furrow in his brow and the distant look in his eyes, and she couldn't help but worry.

"Roos," she began gently, "is everything okay? You seemed a bit... tense earlier."

Rooster turned to her, his eyes filled with concern. He wanted to protect her from unnecessary worry, "Just thinking about the conversation with Mark," he admitted, choosing his words carefully. "He asked some questions about you and your work, and it made me uncomfortable."

Beatrice furrowed her brow, “I mean,did he ask something else besides what you told me?”

Rooster hesitated for a moment, deciding how much to share. He trusted Beatrice implicitly, but he also wanted to spare her any unnecessary stress. "No,it felt... invasive, you know?"

Beatrice nodded in understanding, her expression thoughtful. She sits down on the bench with Nicole on her lap while Éowyn was busy holding Rooster’s hand as they watch her older sister climb a tree "I see," she said, placing a reassuring hand on his arm. "Well, Miranda was…kinda invasive too.”

“Yeah?”

She shrugs, hugging Nicole to her chest, “Asking stuff about us, even mentioning about a little ‘get-together’ she wants me to go. She says it’s because she’s trying to know as many military wives as she can but…I don’t know,I don’t trust her.”

Rooster furrowed his brow, concern deepening as he processed Beatrice's words. The fact that both Mark and Miranda had been intrusive about their lives raised more red flags for him. "That's strange," he mused, his voice lowered to avoid being overheard. "I don't like the sound of that at all."

Beatrice nodded in agreement, her worry mirrored in her husband's eyes. "Exactly," she replied. "It feels like they're prying into our lives, and I can't help but wonder why."

Rooster took a deep breath, his protective instincts kicking in. "We should be cautious," he said, his gaze scanning their surroundings as if expecting eavesdroppers. "I don't want them getting too involved in our business."

Beatrice nodded in agreement, her maternal instincts aligning with his protective stance. "You're right, Roos," she said, her voice determined. "We need to set boundaries and be careful about what we share with them."

"I'll keep an eye on things," Rooster promised, his tone resolute. "And if they continue to push boundaries, we might have to distance ourselves even more.”

“It just feels like they…show up out of nowhere.” she whispers, “I don’t know,Roos. Is Mark…different? I mean, you mentioned him wanting to talk to Mav but like, was he acting even weirder then?”

Rooster leaned in closer, keeping his voice low as they discussed Mark's behavior. "Yeah, babe," he replied, "he was acting a bit strange when he wanted to talk to Mav. He kept mentioning how much of a legend Mav was and seemed almost too eager to connect with him."

Beatrice furrowed her brow, her concern deepening. "That does sound strange," she admitted. "And you said he knew about you before you even found out about him?"

Rooster nodded. "Yeah, he seemed to have some information about me, which I found odd. It's as if he had done his homework before we even met."

"That's definitely unsettling.” she pauses, “...could they just be socially awkward?”

Rooster turned his head towards Beatrice’s, giving his wife a sweet smile, “It’d be nice if we both didn’t feel how weird this whole situation is.” he says, leaning back on the bench and arching his brows,” But eh, it’s fine,gorgeous. We’ll be alright. Let’s focus on other things,hm?”

Beatrice, while smiling, still had a bit of fear clinging to her spine, “Yeah, you are right.” and leans down to kiss Nicole’s head, their daughter napping against her chest because she had a very good dinner.  “I just think it’s weird, is all,Roos.”

“I know.”

“And I don’t want to get too in my head.”

“I know,gorgeous.” and he leans down to kiss her shoulder, “Relax, it’ll be okay.” would it? Maybe he should message Mav in any case. But not now. “How about we go to Mr.Scoops?” he said it quietly, he suggested it to Beatrice but Bianca, who wasn’t too far away, snapped her head in their direction with her eyes widening.

“YES!” she shrieks, startling a few other passerby’s with her voice, the very mention of the ice cream place was always…special, “YES!LET’S GO!”

“Bibi,” Beatrice says as their nieces comes running, sneakers unlaced and hair a mess, “Don’t scream like that, there’s no need to.”

Bianca quickly slowed down, her excitement still bubbling but tempered by her aunt's admonishment. "Sorry, Auntie Bea," she replied with her legs still bouncing up and down. "I just really love ice cream."

 "I know you do, sweetheart. We all do."

Rooster joined in with a playful grin. "And Mr. Scoops has the best ice cream in town. What flavor are you thinking of, Bianca?"

Bianca's eyes sparkled with anticipation as she considered her options. "Hmm, maybe strawberry today. Or cookies and cream. Ooh, or maybe both!" she gasps, eyes staring at nothing, “Maybe all of them.”

“Alright,alright no,” Beatrice holds up a finger, ‘No, three is the max we’ll get, no all of them,Bibi, you can’t even eat that much.”

“...yes I can.”

“No.”

Rooster chuckled adjusting Éowyn on his lap before looking at Bea, “If we go now we might get the college kids instead of the families.” he says, knowing the last time they went there they had to wait so long he felt like he aged five years on that line, “What do you think?”

Beatrice considered Rooster's suggestion, weighing the pros and cons of going to Mr. Scoops at this particular time. She knew that going later would likely mean longer lines and more families with children, but going now might mean dealing with a crowd of college students.

"You're right," she conceded with a nod. "Going now might be a better idea. We can beat the rush and hopefully have a more peaceful ice cream experience."

Rooster smiled in agreement. "Sounds like a plan. Let's get going then."

Bianca, who had been eagerly awaiting their decision, practically jumped with excitement. "Yay! Ice cream time!"

–

With everyone asleep now, they had a great dinner and an even better dessert, Rooster was back in his office, hand on his chin, mouse scrolling through his emails and eyes narrowed. He still had…something in his head was itching, it was itching and it was telling him to just check. 

He wondered if any of the guys talked to Mark or was he the only one?

“Roos?” her soft voice makes him look at the door, to where Beatrice held two mugs with some of the ice cream they brought home. In reality they didn’t have any while at the ice cream shop, deciding that the girls should have it instead, “I brought you some, belgian chocolate.”

Rooster's gaze softened as he saw Beatrice standing in the doorway, holding the two mugs with that precious grin on her face. He pushed back his chair and leaned back, holding a hand to grab the mug when she gets closer."You're the best, babe," he said, pressing a loving kiss to her forehead.

Beatrice smiled,sitting down on the extra chair in his office, tucking her legs under her bottom. "Well, I thought you could use a little break," she replied. "And what better way to unwind than with some delicious ice cream?"

Rooster nodded in agreement and took a spoonful of the ice cream, savoring the rich and creamy flavor. "You always know how to make everything better," he said, his eyes closing happily, “This is still so good. Fuck.”

"That's my job, isn't it? To make sure you're happy and taken care of."

“Funny,thought that was my job.” he smirks with a wink, “Honestly,thanks babe. Are the girls asleep?”

Beatrice chuckled softly, her eyes twinkling with affection. "It's a team effort, Roos," she said, savoring her own spoonful of ice cream before nodding. "Yes, out like a light. It's been a long day for them." she licks her lips, tapping the edge of her mug as she watches her husband swivel his chair from left to right, “What are you doing?”

"Just going through some emails," he replied, setting the spoon aside and turning his attention back to his computer screen. "I couldn't help but think about our conversation with Mark and Miranda earlier."

Beatrice tilted her head, her curiosity piqued. "Is everything okay, Roos?" she asked, her voice filled with concern.

Rooster sighed, his shoulders slumping slightly. He knew he couldn't keep it to himself. "It's just... something about Mark and Miranda doesn't sit right with me," he admitted, his brow furrowing. "They were asking a lot of personal questions. And…”

Beatrice's expression shifted to one of mild surprise, her mind quickly processing the information. "I did notice that too," she said slowly. "But I thought maybe they were just trying to get to know us better."

Rooster nodded, acknowledging her point. "Yeah, that's what I thought at first. But the way Mark was asking about your job, it felt... invasive. And then he brought up the bar and..."

Beatrice's eyes narrowed slightly, her intuition kicking in. "And what?"

Rooster hesitated, choosing his words carefully. "He seemed to imply that I should have some say in what you do. Like, he was surprised that I allowed you to work there." he snorts “Allowed, like i fucking own you or something.”

“Is that what's been bothering you?” she asks, then finishes her sentence, “The most?”

Rooster ran a hand through his hair, his frustration evident. "Yeah, it's been gnawing at me, Bea," he admitted. "I don't like the idea of someone assuming they have a say in your choices. You're your own person, and you make your own decisions. I would never try to control or limit you."

Beatrice's eyes softened.She reached out to gently place her hand on Rooster's, offering a reassuring squeeze. "I appreciate that, Roos," she said sincerely. "You've always been supportive of me, and I've never felt pressured to make decisions based on anyone else's expectations."

Rooster smiled, relieved that Beatrice understood his concerns. "I just wanted to make sure we're on the same page, babe," he said. "I love you for who you are, and I wouldn't change a thing about you."

Oh he was going to make her cry.

Beatrice leaned in, pressing a sweet and tender kiss to Rooster's lips. It was a silent affirmation of their love and understanding, a reassurance that they were a team and would always have each other's backs.

"Thank you for being my rock, Roos," Beatrice whispered against his lips.

"You're my everything, Bea," Rooster replied, “You know that.”

They stayed like that for a moment, their connection deepening as they basked in the comfort of each other's presence. The world outside seemed to fade away as they focused on the love and trust that bound them together.

Eventually, Beatrice pulled back slightly, her gaze fixed on Rooster's. "So, what do we do about Mark and Miranda?" she asked, her brow furrowing in thought.

Rooster contemplated the question for a moment before responding. "What we planned, ignore them, set some boundaries," he said. "Let them know that there are certain topics that are off-limits….maybe tell them to fuck off.”

“Rooster.”

“What? I’d love to do that.”

Beatrice frowns a bit, chewing her lower lip, “Let’s just make sure that it's essential to maintain our privacy and protect our relationship. And especially the kids."

“Or…” he purses his lips, “They can fuck off.”

Beatrice rolled her eyes, then stands up to her feet to hug him. He remains seated, wrapping his arms around her waist and kissing her covered stomach, “Don’t let it get to you,Roos,” she says, cupping his face and tilting his head up, “Please?”

Rooster sighed, his features softening as he gazed into Beatrice's eyes. He knew she was right, as always, and he couldn't let his frustration with Mark and Miranda affect him so much…he just…worries.

"You're absolutely right, babe," he said, "I won't let it get to me.”

She holds up her pinky, “Promise?”

He smirks, hooking his finger with hers, “Promise.”

Beatrice smiled, her heart swelling with love for her husband. "That's why I married you," she said, leaning in to kiss him gently. "You're so strong and protective, but you always listen to reason."

“Most of the time.”

She giggles against his mouth, ‘You do have your moments.”

Rooster chuckled, nuzzling her affectionately. "I learned from the best," he said, his eyes filled with adoration. She smiles down at him,cupping his cheek and kissing his lips one more time, “We should go to bed,huh?”

“We should.” she holds out her hand “Or we can watch some Peaky Blinders while the girls are asleep and have more ice cream.”

“Oh,I like that idea.” he smiles, “Why don’t you go to the living room? I’ll finish it up here.” he kisses her knuckles and waits until she’s out of the office to turn his chair back to the screen. His brows lower and he immediately types something quick, quick enough that Beatrice wouldn’t suspect anything.

There is a group of people who could easily find out more about this whole thing, because they are worse than high schoolers when it comes to gossip. He clicks send on the Dagger Squad group chat and then turns the pc off, walking away from his office after turning off the light.

#bradley rooster bradshaw #rooster bradshaw #bradley bradshaw x oc #top gun maverick #bradley bradshaw x reader #bradley bradshaw x female reader #bradley bradshaw x named reader #tgm oc #tgm fic #tgm fanfiction

[kaitou-kid-my-beloved]

A Little Ghost in a Bowtie (@livmadart's Phantump Conan AU)

(Chapter 3 of 4) (Prev) (Next) (Ao3 link)

The Mouri Detective Agency reminded Heiji of the police station he’d practically grown up in… if it was a heck of a lot smaller, and much more lived in. Aside from the desk and consulting area that Heiji had been expecting, every single wall was packed with filing cabinets and pokemon supplies-  there were scratches and scorch marks on a lot of the furniture, and scattered poke-chow in the corners. Definitely someplace a pokemon trainer lives.

“Sorry about the mess,” Ran-chan said, picking up a few stray pieces of trash as she entered the room. “My dad is out on a case right now, so we can use the agency,”

“Got it,” Heiji nodded, still taking in the room. There were just so many things to look at.

“I like your Lucario, by the way,” Ran-chan said, sitting down on one of the orange couches in the middle of the room, which Heiji followed suit, and sat opposite her.

“Thank you,” Lucie preened.

“She’s grateful for the compliment,” Heiji said, smiling knowingly at his partner.

“Most of my pokemon are native to Kanto, but I’ve always wanted to travel to Sinnoh and see if I can find one, they’re so cool…” She sighed.

“You’re right, we are,” Lucie rumbled happily, and Heiji swatted her lightly.

“She was a gift from my parents when I was a kid- though she was an egg at the time, none of us knew what she’d end up being.” He shrugged. He might as well let Ran-chan know some stuff about him before he asked her probing personal questions about her dead friend.

“Wow, then you’ve been together for a while,” She smiled appreciatively. “I got Chives when I was ten- from our local professor,” She said, pulling out her venusaur’s pokeball again. She clicked the button in the middle, and suddenly half the room was full of one very large grass type.

“And now you’re a champion, huh?” Heiji said, taking his time to examine a champion ‘mon. He didn’t get the chance often. He and his team were good at battling, but they weren’t champions.

“Yep!” Ran-chan smiled, though her eyes were sad. “And I don’t regret it,”

“Why would you regret it?” Heiji blinked, a little confused.

“Well…” Ran-chan’s smile faded. “Shinichi told me that if I won the league- that he’d take me to Tropical Land, his treat. And… you know how that turned out,” She sighed, so world weary it made Heiji sink deeper into his seat.

“I’m… I’m really sorry for your loss,” He managed. The existence of Shinichi Kudo may have plagued Heiji’s life, but he’d been a dear friend to others. Ran-chan offered him a small smile of thanks for the platitude, even if he was sure it didn’t really mean all that much.

“It is what you’re here to talk about, right?” She laughed humorlessly, tugging on the sleeves of her jacket.

“Right,” Heiji nodded uncomfortably. He glanced at Lucie, and she nodded, striding off to talk to Chives. “I want to run through the basics of the case first, just to make sure I have all my facts straight,”

“Alright,” She nodded, and he started reading from his notes. He wasn’t really paying attention to his own words though, since this was mostly so he could listen in on Lucie’s side.

“Chives, right?” She was saying, “Since I don’t see any other ‘mons in here, mind telling me what you know about the case? You’re Ran’s partner pokemon, you must know something,”

“Honestly? I wouldn’t know much more than her if it weren’t for Conan,” Chives rumbled.

“Then I’d very much like to talk to him,” Lucie growled. “Where is he?”

“He’s right here, Lucario. Or at least, he should be,” Chives shrugged as best a venusaur can.

“My name is Lucie,” Lucie growled, though she glanced around wildly, before placing a paw to her chest underneath her spike in a familiar stance- she was checking the aura of the room.

Heiji found himself at the end of his notes, and tuned back into his own conversation. Ran-chan had agreed with everything he’d said- though he hadn’t really had any doubt about that.

“Is there anything else you can remember about that night? Anything at all?” He said. He wasn’t expecting much, but anything was better than nothing.

“I’m sorry, but I really did tell the police everything,” She said, shaking her head.

“What about earlier in the day, was there anything at all that stood out to you as odd in the park? Maybe the other case that occurred?” He prompted. She put a hand to her forehead in thought, obviously making an effort to answer his questions as best she could- which he appreciated.

“Well… during the other case, there were these two suspects that really creeped me out. I think they creeped Shinichi out too, since he looked kinda spooked whenever they got close to him,” She mused. “They ended up not being the criminal in that case, but Shinichi still looked suspicious of them…”

“Two suspects?” Heiji sat up straighter. The pidgey had said that Kudo had been killed by two men.

“Yes, if I remember correctly they were both wearing black- one of them was wearing sunglasses, even on the ride, and the other had some of the longest hair I’ve ever seen on a man,” She nodded. 

Two men wearing black, with one of them having extremely long hair… That was them, for sure. So Kudo had met them during his previous case? Had he discovered something about them, something that drove them to kill him? What exactly had happened at Tropical Land?

“Heiji!” Lucie suddenly hissed, dashing back to his side.

“Woah, Lucie, what’s wrong?” He asked. She looked spooked, and he cast his eyes about for anything that may have scared her. Not much usually could- hence his surprise.

“Is she okay?” Ran-chan asked, brows furrowed in concern.

“Uh, are you okay?” He asked Lucie.

“There’s another pokemon in here,” She hissed again. “One very good at hiding…”

“What?” He blinked at her, then around the room again. He didn’t see anything, but that didn’t really mean much in the face of Lucie’s aura skills. “Hey, Ran-chan, there wouldn’t happen to be a third pokemon in here by any chance?”

“Oh!” Ran-chan exclaimed. “Yes! There probably is! Sorry about that,” She smiled apologetically. “Conan! Are you in here?” She called, and Heiji stiffened again. That was the name they needed to hear.

“....I’m here,”

The noise was small, and haunting- so similar to the voice of a human child’s that Heiji took a moment to figure out which language he was hearing the words in. Still, that echoey quality could belong to nothing else but a ghost type.

“Ah!” Ran-chan seemed delighted by the response. “Conan, I think you may have startled our guests, would you mind so much coming out and apologizing?”

Heiji waited with baited breath for something to happen. For several seconds Ran-chan just sat patiently, a nice smile on her face. Lucie growled a bit, and Ran-chan laughed.

“Conan, please?” She asked the room, and Heiji finally saw some movement.

On the other side of the couches, to Heiji’s left over by the desk, a dark shape faded into view. It had a silver piece of hollow tree trunk for a head, with a few bright red leaves hanging off gnarled branches, and a twisting tendril of gray for its body. A bright red bowtie was tied around its neck, the same shade as its leaves. It blinked at them all with big, blue eyes, and Heiji felt a chill go down his spine.

“...Sorry,” It said, its haunting child-like tone ringing in Heiji’s ears.

“That wasn’t hard at all, was it?” Ran-chan laughed, beckoning the ghost type over to her. Somehow, she looked happier than she had since Heiji had first seen her. The little ghost hesitated, glancing around, before drifting over to her waiting hands.

A ghost type. No wonder Lucie had been spooked- she hated things that she couldn't punch if she needed to. Even now, she was giving a low, warning growl. He lightly swatted her again, and glared at her to tell her to knock it off.

“Let me introduce you! This is Conan, my shiny phantump!” Ran-chan chirped jovially, pulling him into her lap. “Well, technically he’s still wild- he didn’t really seem to like the idea of a pokeball very much. That’s fine though, since he really is very well behaved. He spends most of his time invisible, anyway,” She shrugged.

Heiji had heard of phantumps before, but he’d never seen one- let alone a shiny. Honestly, this one was adorable; nothing like the subject of a terrible ghost story at all, which was when one usually mentioned them.

“Hello, Conan,” Heiji greeted him cordially. They still needed to question him.

“Hmmm,” Conan hummed, scowling at him. Rude.

“Nice of you to finally join the party!” Chives bellowed loudly, causing his trainer to shoot him a stern glance.

“You’re enjoying this waay too much,” Conan whined, curling his tail over himself.

“He started following me a little more than a month ago,” Ran-chan was saying, and Heiji once again marveled just how much happier she was with the little ghost in her lap. “He showed himself to me a few weeks ago, and he’s stuck around ever since!”

“Cool,” Heiji said.

“I know right?” She grinned.

“They’re just here to help, y’know,” Chives rumbled, laughter in his tone.

“That’s true, I guess…” Conan grumbled

“You, Ghost, what do you know?” Lucie growled, positioning herself with Heiji and the couch in between her and Conan. Conan rolled his eyes, sighing.

“I have a name you know, a few of them, actually- you could stand to use one,” Conan hissed at her.

“Is your Lucario alright?” Ran-chan said, settling a hand on Conan’s head.

“She’s… not a fan of ghost types,” Heiji explained. “She knows mostly fighting type moves, afterall,”

“I understand that,” She nodded. “I’m not usually a fan, but Conan’s just so shy- he’s harmless, really- I’m pretty sure he doesn’t even have a full four moves,” Conan scowled at her words, but Lucie relaxed, which Heiji was grateful for. Though- if he didn’t have a full four moves, how old was he?

…And why had the pidgey been so sure he’d know more about the murder than it had? For that matter, why had he decided to come live with Ran-chan at all, still as a wild pokemon no less?

“Fine, what do you know about the murder of Shinichi Kudo, Conan?” Lucie said, with much less hostility this time.

“Honestly? Your friend there has most of it,” Conan grumbled, though he too seemed less standoffish. “Those two men in black that Ran mentioned were the ones to do it- I found them later by coincidence and discovered their codenames, Gin and Vodka,”

“Codenames?” Lucie asked, tensing again.

“They’re part of some big organization,” Conan shrugged, as if that wasn’t horrifying.

“How do you know that?” Lucie prodded again.

“They mentioned it,” Conan rolled his eyes again. “They said that the poison they used was something new- created by their organization. If their organization can make something that strong, something that won’t even show up on an autopsy, then they’re bound to be well funded- and formidable,”

“....That’s… new information,” Lucie settled on.

“Wow, Conan you’re being pretty vocal,” Ran-chan commented. “He’s usually so quiet,”

“You don’t say,” Heiji said, still grappling with the idea that Kudo may have been taken out by a major crime syndicate.

“The pidgey we got the tip about you from witnessed it- and didn’t mention any of this, would you mind giving me your perspective of the events?” Lucie said, obviously also shaken.

“Fine,” Conan said, though he looked a little uncomfortable. “I noticed one of the men- the one in sunglasses, he was being very suspicious, so I followed him,” His tail reached up, curling around one of his branches. “I discovered him blackmailing another man about a gun smuggling ring-” This just kept getting worse, huh, “The amount was a million yen. I was filming all of this, but I really should have just let Sherlock out to catch them,”

“You really should have,” Chives sighed, and Conan glared at him.

“But then of course, being an idiot, I forgot that there were two of them,” Conan scowled, glaring down into the couch. “I heard footsteps behind me, and the one with long hair was behind me… I couldn’t run fast enough, so, he hit me on the head.”

…Me?

Oh.

Oh.

#dcmk #pokemon #dcmk x pokemon #phantump conan au #hattori heiji #mouri ran #edogawa conan #Rosie Writes