#we stopped seeing him like after he said i was a 'strong young lady' uh bro you'd signed off on like 5 years worth of school physio/ot | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

luveline · 8 months

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Hi jadeybabes!! Like everyone else I’m adoring the soulmate prince au and I’m wondering if we could have a peek into Steve’s thoughts and feelings about finding his soulmate after searching so long and rushing to a quick wedding even though they hardly know each other?

Like we’ve seen reader’s apprehension and insecurities mixed up with just how kind and pretty she thinks he is, and I’m wondering what’s going through Steve’s head? Love you!

hi lovely, love u ♡ prince!steve au fem, 1.2k

His private gardens are silent beyond the low hum of dragonflies zipping across the pond and the creak of his hammock. The old trees he's suspended between don't move an inch, but the netted fabric Steve lays on curls tight with every slow swing.

He can smell hyacinth where it grows at the perimeter of the bluegrass, and the fragrant cocoa of his hot chocolate steaming on the paving stones beneath him. There are a hundred beautiful things to savour out here in the evenings, but Steve can think about nothing but you. Your eyes, the timid sweet smile you give him when he's touching you. Your voice, and how you speak to him when you're alone.

Steve knows he's likely the only person fortunate enough in his entire kingdom to meet his soulmate when he desired it. Which isn't to say he didn't hold out hope when he was young, thinking one day he'd meet them, a diplomat's daughter or the child of a visiting King. He knows it was stupid to assume his soulmate would be another royal, but when you're a kid you believe what you're told.

"Well, of course she'll be educated," his mother would say, sitting two feet away at the dining table, an oyster spoon in hand. "Slight, well-mannered, quiet. You'll be king, so she'll need to be strong. She'll need to know how to take a beating."

Steve remembers thinking, Why? It's not as if I'll hit her.

It's still true, but he can guess what she meant: To be thrust into the spotlight and with little choice in the manner, you have to have a strong disposition. Steve can't not be a Prince. His soulmate can't not want to marry him. She'll need to buckle up.

He doesn't technically agree with his mother's thoughts back then, but he understands them. Steve believes you have much more choice in the manner, and he's dedicated to giving you that choice even if the wedding is being forced on you both. He wants to make this something you want too.

Sighing, Steve rakes a hand through his hair. He needs time to himself, without Robin or Munson and especially without his mother's lady's maids. Steve finds his days stolen and his time delegated, richocheting between government, education, fencing, fittings, toning, training. He can keep up. He doesn't mind. But without an hour alone every now and then, he'll explode.

He stretches out as much as the hammock allows with a frankly hideous groan. His neck and shoulders pop. What he really needs is an hour with the masseuse, Claire. Before Steve met you, he thought she was his soulmate. She has nice hands.

He hears you before he sees you, your footsteps on the pathway. He immediately sits up from the hammock with mild grace, standing in the grass with no idea where to put his hands.

He clasps them behind his back as you come into view.

"Hi, Steve," you say hesitantly.

He can't help it —he sees you and a smile splits his face. Trying not to come on too strong is out the window.

"Hi," he says. You've stopped a couple of feet away. The light of your soul mark is muted to near invisibility, tinged somewhere between pink and purple. It looks ethereal against your skin. "Are you okay?"

"I'm fine. Uh, Robin said you'd be here. That they'd let me through."

"Only you," he says. He told them quite concisely that you're the single person permitted to interrupt his time alone.

"I can come back later."

"No, tell me what's wrong."

"It's… Why do you assume something's wrong?"

"Because you've willingly sought me out?" he asks with a well-meaning laugh.

It's the wrong thing to say. You shift from foot to foot, rubbing your palms together sheepishly. "I guess it was stupid. I'm sorry, you can, uh, you can go back to what you were doing. Sorry, Steve."

"Wait a second!" he says, though he drops his volume when you flinch. "Wait, no, don't– Don't leave, I didn't mean that you can't come and find me unless there's something wrong. I want to talk to you. Really badly. That's why I told them to let you in."

"About what?"

"About everything," he says.

You and Steve sit on one of the steps leading down to the fish pond. It's a beautiful feature with mirror clean waters and water lilies, their petals a quiet pink melding into sunshine orange. He points at it, his head inclined to yours.

"Nymphaea aurora," he murmurs. The water ripples, a darkening purple reflection of the sky as the sun sets. "They're bred for the colour specifically."

"Do you like those ones?" you ask him.

"I like all of them." He doesn't know how to explain how he feels, the dawning hope of being close to you, the magnetic tethering. "We could get different stuff if you wanted. It'll be your garden too, soon," he says, watching fondly as you draw your legs a touch closer and bend at the waist, hugging your thighs. "Are you tired?"

"Kind of, but I know you're busy tomorrow." You want to talk to him as much as he wants to talk to you. He tries hard not to feel smug.

"I'm really sorry. We shouldn't be separated right now, we should be spending the week together." It's a common phenomena. People meet their soulmates and disappear for days on end together, appearing later to beg forgiveness, cheeks aglow with joy. He wanted that with you. He wants whatever he can get.

Steve drops his voice to a whisper, bending at the waist to meet you eye to eye, "Do you want to run away with me tomorrow?"

You don't flinch, wince, or smile. Tentative, you whisper back, "You couldn't run away."

"Just for the day. We'll wear fake eyeglasses and sunhats and slip out in the morning when they change the guards. I've done it before."

"You have?"

"So many times. What do you think of that?"

"What would we do all day?" you whisper.

"Anything we want. Sneak into the opera house, eat dinner in the square from the food carts. We can finally get to know one another. Just you and me," he says softly.

Your tired smile tugs at the corners.

"Okay. Yeah, I want to go."

He reaches across the gap to stroke your cheek, a brisk, wanting line from the highest point to the skin shy of your jaw. In the evening dark, your face awash with the milky light of the appearing moon, you're the prettiest girl he's ever seen.

You laugh softly and turn your face away, shaking your head before sitting up altogether.

Steve sits up. "Then we'll go. But we should head to bed now, I'll have to wake you up in a few hours. They've started to expect my escape in the morning."

Steve walks you back to your room. He wants to kiss you goodnight, and there's a pause where he thinks about it before telling you goodnight. When your door closes behind you, he has to stop himself from knocking and asking if you want to leave now.

He's eager to get to know you, but you both have time.

#prince!steve au #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington x you #steve harrington x y/n #steve harrington #steve harrington fic #steve harrington blurb #steve harrington drabble #stranger things x reader #stranger things fic #steve harrington imagine #steve harrington fanfic #steve harrington fanfiction #stranger things

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messers-moony · 3 years

Text

Accepted | F.H

Paring: Five Hargreeves X Wife!Reader

Summary: Five craves nothing more than to be accepted and loved by his siblings. That doesn’t appear to happen when he time travels back to 2019 after disappearing for seventeen years.

Five had never seen anyone so beautiful before. Even in the apocalypse, she was gorgeous. He knew it wasn’t because they were the only ones left either. She had his heart from the moment they accidentally ended up in the apocalypse together.

Y/n was a normal girl, an ordinary girl. She had no powers, completely powerless. It just so happens she was walking down the sidewalk and brushed shoulders with Five, which brought her with him.

He couldn’t be mad at her. It wasn’t her fault that they had brushed shoulders. He should’ve been more careful. Y/n was a shy and skittish girl. Not very talkative. It took her a week to use her voice after being thrown into the end of the world.

Despite Five’s commonly inpatient nature, he was extremely patient with her. She was all he had now, and he felt completely comfortable with her. It took a year for her to open up to him, to trust him finally.

She told him all about school and what it was like while Five listened intently. He loved listening to her talk about normal kid activities, things he never got to participate in. Y/n promised him once they got back to save the world, no matter how old, they’d do those things together.

The girl had a certain aura around her that just made him smile. After five years, they were inseparable. Five couldn’t imagine life without her. He couldn’t fathom how he lived without her. He could tell her anything and didn’t fear of being judged.

He had been strong for so long, but not he didn’t have to be anymore. He could let loose and be himself, whether it was being playful, cheerful, upset, or angry. He could be him, and that’s all that mattered to him.

At the age of twenty, they decided to date, knowing it’d be a risk but a risk well taken because Five proposed at the age of twenty-five. Obviously, getting married wasn’t really an option. Nevertheless, he always thought of her as Y/n Hargreeves. His pride and joy.

At the age of forty-one, they were both taken into the commission– a job they both loathed. However, in order to get back to their time, it had to be done. Every night after a mission or a long day, Five would snuggle up Y/n’s chest and sob.

It became a daily routine for the next four and a half years. Every night Five would cry. He missed everything and hated everything. He regretted not listening. He hated the killing. He missed his siblings. Y/n would sit and listen while rubbing his back.

She thought for sure that his siblings missed him. Oh, how wrong she was. She found that out when they returned back to their timeline. Both lovers had fallen to the ground back in their thirteen-year-old bodies.

“ Does anyone else see Little Number Five and a little girl, or is that just me? “ A male queried as five people peered at the two.

Y/n and Five both got up from the ground looking down at their attire. Their clothes were ten times too big for them now. Five appeared to look just as young as he did forty-five years ago, and so did Y/n. Five couldn’t help but smile at her gorgeous appearance that he hadn’t seen in years. She was beautiful at all ages, but he was particularly fond of her teenage form, as was she of him.

“ Shit. “ Five muttered as he walked past them, and Y/n followed.

Five led her into the Hargreeves manor. It was a huge house, one that consisted of too many bedrooms and bathrooms for one person. He held her hand tight, and he stood at the end of the table. At the same time, his siblings piled around the table.

“ What’s the date? The exact date. “ Five’s voice was stern as he began making food, “ The 24th. “ A brunette female responded.

“ Of what? “ Five asked, annoyed, “ March. “ She replied again.

“ Good. “ Five said, opening the loaf of bread.

“ Are you gonna introduce us to your lady friend? “ The male from earlier questioned, and Y/n took refuge behind Five.

Five sighed as he pulled her next to him, letting his arm rest upon her waist, “ This, is Y/n Hargreeves. “

“ Hargreeves? Is she dad’s biological child, or was there another child we didn’t know about? “ The big male quizzed, and Five smirked, looking up at his siblings, “ Or perhaps the most obvious conclusion, but you guys aren’t smart enough to see what’s right in front of you. “ Five insulted, which made Y/n lightly hit him.

“ She’s my wife. “ The boy summarized, kissing her cheek, “ Wife?! You guys are thirteen. “ A woman in a blue shirt interjected.

“ Ignore that. What just happened outside? “ A large male queried as Five continued to make his food, “ It’s been 17 years. “

Five scoffed, “ It’s been a lot longer than that. “

Gently Five removed his arm from Y/n’s waist, and spatial jumped behind Luther to grab something. Y/n was hesitant but took a seat on the counter as her husband's siblings stared her down

“ I haven’t missed that. “ The big male murmured, “ Where’d you go? “ Questioned a male in all black.

“ The future. It’s shit, by the way. “ Five replied as he spatial jumped from getting his marshmallows and back to the front of the table, “ Called it! “ The skinny male exclaimed

“ I should’ve listened to the old man. You know, jumping through space is one thing. “ The teen began as he looks through the fridge, “ Jumping through time is a toss of the dice. “

The boy looked up from what he was doing and took his sibling's appearances in, the ones he missed dearly but saw all dead. If you were Y/n, you could see his green eyes glass over. But if you were the Hargreeves siblings, you saw a heartless and cold teenage boy.

“ Nice dress. “ He complimented, “ Oh, well, danke! “ The skinny male exclaimed.

“ Wait, how did you get back? “ Asked the anxious brunette, “ In the end, I had to project our consciousnesses forward into a suspended quantum state version of ourselves that exists across every possible instance of time. “ Five answered.

“ That makes no sense. “ Blurted the black-wearing male, “ Well, it would if you were smarter. “ Five smirked.

“ Five, stop. They’re trying to understand. You probably sound insane. “ Y/n spoke up for the first time since coming back, “ Oh, I like her. “ The skinny male chuckled.

“ I’m Klaus. “ He introduced, “ Pleasure. “ Y/n greeted with a smile.

The strong male looked baffled, “ How long were you two there? “

Y/n sighed, “ Forty-Five years. Give or take. “ Five answered, “ So what are you saying? That you two are 58? “ He questioned again.

“ Our consciences are 58, apparently our bodies are 13 again. “ The teen boy answered, “ Wait, how does that even work? “ Questioned the brunette again.

“ He got the equations wrong. Meaning his math was off, bringing us back into the same bodies we left in. “ Y/n softly explained as Five ate his food.

“ Guess I missed the funeral. “ Five said as he picked up a newspaper on the table, “ How’d you even know about that? “ Asked the large male.

“ What part of the future do you not understand? “ Five barked, “ Heart failure, huh? “

“ Yeah/No. “ Contradicting answers.

“ Nice to see nothings changed. “ Five said, clicking his tongue, walking away.

“ Uh, that’s it? That’s all you have to say? “ Questioned the curly-haired woman asked the boy who was walking away.

“ What else is there to say? It’s the circle of life. “ Five said now out of the room and into the rest of the mansion.

“ Well, that was interesting. “ The big male concluded.

Y/n sighed, “ I’m sorry for him. The past few years for him haven’t been the greatest. Just know he cares about you guys. “

“ I’m Vanya. “ Smiled the anxious brunette, “ And that’s Allison, Luther, and Diego. Klaus interjected earlier. “ Vanya introduced, pointing at each member.

“ Nice to meet you all. I’m going to go find Five. “ Y/n smiled as she walked away.

It took a couple of minutes, but she eventually found what seemed to be like their bedrooms. Only one door was shut, so she knocked hesitantly on it. Sniffles were heard on the other side.

“ Five, it’s me. “ Her voice was serene and quiet, “ Come in. “ His voice was muffled through the door.

Her hand turned the door handle, and she walked inside. Gently she shut the bedroom door and locked it, knowing he hated people seeing him vulnerable. Y/n turned to see him sitting on his bed with his elbows resting on his knees, hands on his face crying.

She knelt in front of him, taking his hands into her own, “ They don’t care. “ Were the first words muttered from his mouth, “ They do care. They’re just confused. “ Y/n replied.

He shook his head and sat on the floor in her embrace, sobbing, “ It’s going to be okay, Five. I’m right here. I’ll always be right here. “ Y/n reassured as she ran her hands through his hair.

She felt a gentle kiss being laid on her shoulder, knowing it was his way of acknowledging what she said. After minutes passed, he had stopped crying and instead fell asleep, right in his lover's arms where he was always accepted.

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patchworkpuzzle · 3 years

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MINORS DNI 18+

word count: 3k

warnings: cheating? (it’s a consensual roleplay so idk), oral (f!recieving), overstimulation, breeding, creampie

author’s note: Wow first time writing/posting smut….. y’all can thank @doinmybesthere for this. Like she wrote that rp headanon thing and I just couldn’t get this out of my head (even if I was the one that suggested it to being with) Anyway…. hope you enjoy!

“H-hi…!”

That was the first thing out of your mouth when you opened the door to the repairman. You knew he was coming, the invoice on your answering machine said ‘11am sharp’, but you couldn’t help being caught off guard. You just weren’t expecting him to be so young…. Or handsome.

“Sorry! Come in!” you shake your head as you open the door further, taking a step to the side to get out of his path.

He gave you a chuckle, smiling kindly as he walked through the threshold of your home “Did I catch you at a bad time?”

“No, no, no!” You quickly reassure, closing the door behind him while waving a hand in reassurance “I knew you were coming, just… just guess it slipped my mind for a moment!”

“Hey, it happens. Things slip my mind all the time!” He laughed for a moment, amused by your almost frantic nature in reassuring him before squaring his shoulders “So, where’s the problem?”

You shyly met his gaze before, pointing the direction of your kitchen, taking small steps in that direction “Um, the problem is this way.”

You led him to your kitchen, trying your best to ignore his large frame behind yours. You couldn’t understand why you were so nervous around him. You never felt like this when it was your gardener, or the grocery delivery person, or any of the other repairmen that showed up to help you out. Maybe it was because he wasn’t a middle-aged man. Maybe it was because he had the nicest smile you have ever seen, and wonderfully dark eyes that matched dark hair that was pulled back into a small ponytail, or that the t-shirt he wore showcased his strong arms really, really, well.

You shook your head to shake you out of your thoughts, now was not the time to gawk at the help. Now was the time to tell him what needed to be fixed before escaping to the other room to start folding the neglected laundry.

“Uh, it’s the sink, I guess” You spoke once again when you got into the kitchen, pointing at the sink “It started with the dishwasher. It was working funny and then the sink followed suit. My husband tried to fix it, but I think he made it worse…”

“Not much of a handy man around the house, huh?” He chuckled as he bent down to open the cabinet that held all the pipes to the sink.

“Uh, no.” You gave a breathless giggle as you moved out of the way “He’s helpful in other areas, just not this one.”

“Ah, I get it, not worries! That’s what I’m here for.”

“Yeah, exactly…” You fiddle with your hands as you stare at his profile for another moment “I’ll leave you to it. I’ll just be in the other room if you need anything….?”

“Sero, you can call me Sero” The man, now known as Sero, smiles up at you “And sounds good to me!”

You simply nodded, dumbly, as you quickly turned yourself away from him and exiting the room to make sure he couldn’t see the blush that was now painted on your cheeks. Though mentally you were kicking yourself over how dumb you were acting. Why was he making you so nervous? Why were you acting like such a fool? He was just here to fix your sink, to clean out your pipes, nothing else!

You groaned at the way your brain phrased that sentence in your head, placing your head in your hands. This was going to be a long day.

“You don’t have a lot of people to talk to, huh?” Sero asked from where he was positioned under the sink.

You knew he was bound to say it. After you finished folding your laundry, you asked if everything was okay. When he told you it was, you went to tidy your bedroom. Once your bed was made, and everything was put away, you came down to check up on his once again. After another affirmative you just went to check the mail to then immediately come back into the kitchen to bug him once more. You were surprised he wasn’t annoyed with you.

“Guess not…” You chuckle, playing with your fingers as you lean forward on your kitchen island “Normally I do! Just…. Everyone is busy lately. Sorry for bothering you so much…”

“Don’t apologize! I don’t mind!” He quickly reassured as he stood from the ground, turning to test to see if the sink was finally working “I like the interaction too. Makes me feel like a person and not a tool, ya know?”

“Oh! That’s awful! People really treat you like that?”

“Yeah, but hey!” He turned back to you, wiping his hand on a dish towel he had around his toolbelt “Just means I appreciate people like you even more.”

The wink he sent you way caused an almost girlish giggle to escape your mouth as you turned your head away from him. After a moment, the silence that hung in the air somewhat heavy, you pushed off the counter “Are…. Are you hungry? I can make you something?”

You rushed towards your fridge, opening it to inspect the things within it to see what you could possibly prepare for him. Head racing with those thoughts you didn’t notice him moving closer to you, or that he was behind you, until you felt one hand on your hip and the fridge door closing in front of you.

“I could think of something I want to eat.” He breathed hot on your neck as he pulled you closer, making sure that you could feel the prominent bulge on your backside “If you catch my drift.”

You gulp trying to move away but only succeeding in wiggling your hips further into him, he hissed and gripped your hips more tightly to stop you from moving. Both of your breathing starting to grow hot and heavy, mingling together as you turn your head shyly towards him.

“W-we shouldn’t be doing this” You shake your head, trying once again to move away from him “My husband wil be home any moment…”

“Will he?” Sero chuckled, turning you around to face him, pushing your body back until the small of it hits your countertop “I don’t think he will. If he was, then you would have already had lunch ready.”

He tilts your chin up, leaning down until his lips hover over yours. His hot breath caused your tongue to poke up to run across your lips as a flush began to bloom on your cheeks “And you seem like a dutiful housewife, you wouldn’t keep him waiting.”

“S-Sero…” You breathe out, closing your eyes as you felt his forehead connect with yours.

“Tell me to stop, that you don’t want it.” His breath was tickling your cheeks as he spoke “Tell me and I’ll leave right now, and we’ll never speak of it again.”

“I… I don’t want you to stop..”

Your lips were captured in a hungry kiss as soon as you spoke those words. The kiss so engulfing that it captures all your thoughts, how soft they were and how they work against your own that when you granted his tongue access you didn’t realize that he had picked you up and placed you on the countertop.

He forced your legs to wrap around his waist as he grinded your hips together, the action causing a small moan to leave your mouth as you parted from the kiss. More mewls kept tumbling, out of your control, as he trailed kisses down your throat. Sero delighted in the way your hips would involuntarily buck into his when he would nip at the delicate skin, causing him to leave harsher nips the further he went down.

“So sensitive,” He murmured once he got to your collarbone, taking the time to lick a stripe up your neck and chuckling in your ear as you whimpered “Does your husband not take care of you, baby?”

“Y-yes…!” You give a tiny yelp when he bites onto your ear lobe.

“Clearly he’s not doing a good enough job,” Sero brings a hand down to rub you through your pants, cocking a brow at how you ground yourself onto his palm “Is he?”

You whine, shaking your head ‘no’ at his statement. He wasn’t wrong. Your husband has been less than affectionate with you lately, and when he has it was always lackluster. And after months of a non-excitant, or if it was non-pleasurable, sex life you were quite needy. Even your vibrator hasn’t been able to be enough for you anymore. But now? The way he was touching you was burning a fire deep within you, and you wanted nothing more than for him to continue to let you burn brighter.

“Do you need me to help with that, little Lady?”

“Yes!” You cry out, tugging at his shirt to try and pull him closer as you continue to buck wildly into his palm, like a horny teenager, once again. “Please Sero!”

He groaned when you called out his name, resting his forehead against your shoulder to regain some semblance of control. After a breath he pulled away from you slightly to remove his shirt, giving a cocky smirk as you took a moment to admire him, as he reached down to pull your shirt over your head.

“Like what you see?” He teased, smiling only widening when you gave a small shy nod as a response, reaching behind you to unclasp your bra before tossing it aside “Aww, why don’t you say it, baby?”

You shyly brought your arms up to try and cover your chest, turning your head away embarrassed. It had been a long time since someone had looked at you the way Sero was; so hungry, like you were about to be eaten alive. It was causing you to become nervous.

“I know I like what I see.” Sero brought his hands to gently cup your chest, causing your arms to fall away as he leaned down to press gentle kisses along the swell of your breast “I like what I see a lot.”

You mewl when he starts his assault on your chest. The way he was nipping, sucking, and biting all over your breasts, never staying on one for too long, was causing you to pant. He was aggressive, but not enough to break the skin or leave a mark; which you were grateful for. His hands continued to grope as his lips grasped onto one of your nipples, assaulting it with continuous flicks of his tongue.

You let out a quiet moan as you arch your back into his touch, a hand coming up to tug at his hair gently while the other started to wander the expanse of his now exposed chest. Relishing and marvelling at all the lean muscle under your fingertips, slowly dipping lower and lower…

“Ah, ah, ah” Sero chides, removing your hand from tugging at his toolbelt to undo it “it’s all about you right now, baby.”

“But I wanna make you – ah!” you cry out, taken by surprise as his own hand slipped between your pants and panties to run through you folds.

“You’re already so wet,” Sero slides one of his long fingers into you, groaning at how tight you are “You really are pent up, aren’t you? I barely touched you”

You don’t have the care to answer him, or to be embarrassed by the slight squelching sound that could now be heard as he slowly pumps his finger in and out of you. You keen when a second finger joins the first and his pace starts to pick up, his thumb coming up to rub at your bundle of nerves. Shamelessly spreading your legs wider as you buck your hips into his hand, desperately trying to chase your release that is so close to washing over you, the ache in your core almost unbearable.

Your release finds you with a choked out gasp as you clamp your thighs tightly around Sero’s hand as your body spasms with the intense aftershocks, which are only amplified as he continues to finger you through your orgasm; only stopping when you have officially calmed down. Well, calmed down enough.

“Oh, please, please, please fuck me Sero” You beg, letting out a whine when his fingers leave your drooling hole.

“You want more, hm?” He asks, bringing his hand up to your mouth, to which you open for him to let his fingers into your wet craven. His moan spurring you on to suck his digits with more fervor “Then get down.”

His command sends a pleasurable shiver down your spine as you carefully slide off the counter. Once you were on steady feet he turned you around and forcefully, but still with a gentle touch, bent you forward, allowing you to adjust on shaky arms before quickly pulling the rest of your clothes off. The swift smack that echoed throughout the kitchen, and the slight burning ache on your ass, caused your legs to shake.

“Step out.” His voice was deep with desire, and you couldn’t help but immediately follow his instruction.

A surprised, and strangled, gasp left your lips as you felt his tongue take a swift lick up your folds. Only for it to be followed by another, one more fervent, as he gripped your hips tightly to pull you back onto his face as he continued to swipe at your folds greedily.

“More, Sero, please” You whimper, your voice needy as you try to move closer to him. “I want more!”

“Want me to fuck this pretty pussy bad, huh?” He hummed, spreading your folds to get a better look “I will, don’t you worry. Just wanted a taste.”

He’s big, you don’t really know for certain as you haven’t had the chance to see it. But from how he felt grinding on you, and the way the tip of his cock runs through your slippery folds, you can tell that it will be quite the stretch.

You whine as he slowly starts to enter you, the stretch is an intense but a pleasant burn as he slowly sinks into you inch by inch. You both groan in unison when he finally bottoms out. You close your eyes as you try to adjust, you’ve never felt so full, and you know Sero knows this as well.

“Good, you’re so fucking tight!” He groans, slowly pumping in and out of you, bringing a hand around to rub your clit “Relax for me, baby. I’ll take real good care of you, trust and believe.”

Once you started to relax was when his pace quickened, your moans getting louder in tandem to the speed his hips were going. It didn’t take long before his thrusts were hard and fast, hips snapping into you with such force that you were unable to stay upright on your arms. The chaffing of his jeans and toolbelt were just adding to the rough pleasure you were losing your mind to.

Your walls started to clench and flutter around him much sooner than you were expecting, his relentless fingers that were rubbing your clit making it impossible to hold out any longer. Another orgasm runs through you, your wail of ecstasy lost as your ears deafen to any noise as blood flushes through your body.

His pace and how his cock kept hitting that special spot inside you meant that you weren’t sure if you were about to start cumming again or if you hadn’t finished cumming in the first place. Not that you cared or could really think. The delirium he kept you in was so wonderful that you couldn’t find in yourself to try and fight it. The slick that was constantly spilling out of you and onto your thighs proof that this was the best fuck you had in a long, long time

You don’t know how long it’s been, or how many times he made a mess of you, you’re now too dumb to really think due to how overstimulated you are, all you can do is moan and mewl for him and ‘just take it’. To enjoy the drag of his cock going in and out of you, the way the vein on the underside of his cock catches so wonderfully against your walls.

“You’re doing such a good job, baby. So, so good” Sero mumbles, placing kisses along you back and cracking a head over you ass once again “You’re gonna keep taking it baby, keep taking it so good for me till I cum, okay?”

You whimper, turning your head to face him, the cool countertop a wonderful contrast to your flushed cheeks “Cum for me, please! I want it so bad!”

“Fuck! Yeah, you want it. Want me to cum all over you, don’t you? Want me to cum all over this pretty pussy, making you forget about your worthless husband, yeah?”

You merely nod your head, your voice all but gone as his pace somehow gets even faster making it impossible for you to let out any noise but screams of pleasure, your mouth in a permanent ‘O’ position as you try to hold on until he cums.

He does with a loud groan, hips pressing snuggly against your ass, as he paints your insides white with ropes and ropes of his cum. Slowly pulling out with a hiss, spreading your swollen and sore lips apart to watch it drip out of you and down your thighs.

“Are you okay, love?” Sero asks after a beat, slowly regaining his breath.

You tiredly laugh and nod your head “Yeah, I’m okay.” you slowly start to pull yourself upright, trying to properly stand on your wobbly legs “You know you broke character. You’re not suppose to cum inside some random housewife.”

“Yeah, well.” He shrugs his shoulder, collecting you in his arms “Got too lost in the moment… Now come on, let’s get you cleaned up!”

Before you had the chance to tease your boyfriend even further he threw you over his shoulder and started bounding his way to your shared bathroom to draw you a bath, just like he said he would.

#sero #sero hanta #mha #bhna #sero x reader #sero hanta smut #sero smut #mha x reader #mha smut #bnha x reader #bnha smut #test test test test test

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spideyobsessed · 3 years

Text

Before It’s Too Late - Prologue

peter parker x avenger!reader

Synopsis: With all the life changing events taking place, will you ever get to overcome some of your biggest fears?

Chapter one

“Come on, Y/n! Do it for me!” your best friend pleaded.

“I told you not at school! It’s not my fault you went out drinking on a Tuesday.” you scolded Gwen, who is being dramatic as always.

“Please! I’ll give you 5 dollars.” She clasps her hands together and pleads some more as she shoots you a sheepish smile. You let out a sigh and shake your head, knowing you’d give in to her eventually. “How about you just hand over your jello?” You bargain, doubting she even has money with her.

“Deal!” She cheers loudly before groaning and holding her head.

Ignoring your whiny friend, you scope out your area of the cafeteria. Once you were certain there were no eyes on you, you turn back to Gwen, “This is the last time I’m doing this at school.”

“Yeah yeah, just hurry!” She rushes.

You take a deep breath and focus all of your energy towards your hands. You place your fingertips on either side of Gwen’s head, a purple aura radiating from them. As the energy transfers from your fingers to her temples, you watch a wave of relief mask her face.

“Better?” You ask her, the purple already gone from your fingers. “So much better. Bless you, almighty Y/n!” Gwen bows her head and graciously hands you her jello cup. You let out a loud laugh before accepting the treat, “You are ever so welcome, peasant.” She shoves you slightly before joining you in laughter.

“I saw that, ya know?” A third voice suddenly appears.

Your eyes widen when you see who the voice belongs to. Michelle Jones. This girl notices everything and now she’s just seen you use your abilities. So dumb. So careless. How could I let her catch-

“See what, Mj?” Gwen interrupts your panicked train of thought.

The odd girl invites herself to sit at your table. She squints her eyes while looking back and forth between you and Gwen. “I saw how close you guys were just a minute ago. It just seemed like something is going on.” She speaks with subtle confidence, as if she just cracked a big case.

“What? Uh no. Nope. Nothing going on here, that’s crazy talk.” You chuckle nervously. The blonde girl besides you gives you a disappointed look, “Nice save.” You gulp hard and your palms being to sweat.

The secret is out. I’m done for. I’m going to live the rest of my life as a lab rat being poked and prodded every single day-

“I don’t know. Things just seemed kinda... fruity over here.” Your thoughts interrupted once more, this time by Mj and her idiotic comment. She and Gwen begin to laugh as you bury your face in your hands, your nerves settle, thankfully.

“Very funny, very funny.” Gwen manages to say through her laughing fit, “but we all know who Y/n really wants to swap spit with.” she points a finger.

You turn your head, and almost as if it was second nature, your eyes land on the guy you’ve been crushing on since 8th grade year.

Peter Parker.

You feel the heat spreading across your face and you’re sure your pupils are dilated out of this world, but none of it is enough to tear away your gaze. Gwen let’s out a high pitched “Aahh” as she attempts to replicate that of a beautiful church chorus (and does quite the opposite). You’ve learned to tune out your best friend’s theatrical tendencies.

The smallest smile creeps onto your lips as you watch him and his best friend, Ned, laugh and toss grapes into each other’s mouths. Gwen and Mj share a knowing glance before continuing their antics.

Look at him! The way he grabs his stomach when he laughs, the way his eyes crinkle in the corner when he smiles too wide, the way his curls droop over his forehead. He’s perfect... Oh no.

You whip your direction back to the girls next to you, “Is it that obvious? Does everyone really know I like him?” Your nerves return. “You only make it like super obvious, dude.” Mj snorts, stealing a fry from your tray. You sigh and start to pick at your rightfully earned jello.

“Too bad he doesn’t even know I exist.” You grumble, fully and shamelessly basking in your own self pity. “I can fix that,” Mj smirks, “Hey losers! Get over here!” She shouts from across the lunchroom.

She instantly captures the attention of Peter and Ned, who are obviously use to her ever so friendly nicknames, and everyone else in the cafeteria. You make brief eye contact with the curly haired boy and fight the urge to just melt in your seat.

Sweat starts to bead from your forehead as you turn to Mj and whisper harsh words of protests. “Just go with it, Y/n.” Gwen attempts to reassure you. You close your eyes and take a deep breath. Please please please don’t embarrass yourself, you thought as they approach your table.

“Yes, Mj?” Ned questions her with his eyes squinted. You can tell they’re both worried about what might come out of her mouth. Quite frankly, you are too! Mj has no filter and is too unpredictable.

You try to avoid making eye contact with Peter, which is really hard to do considering he’s standing right next to you. You smell the strong scent of cologne and suddenly your throat is drier than the Sahara Desert. You sit in silence as you fiddle with your fingers.

“You guys know Gwen and Y/n, right?” Mj speaks in her monotone voice as she points a thumb over to you and Gwen.

This brings out a loud chuckle from Ned, “Uh duh! Of course we know Gwen Stacy and Y/n Y/l/n.” You can’t help but tilt your head over to Gwen, who is just as confused as you, but seems to be entertained by the event unfolding before your eyes.

“What Ned means is, uh.. y-yes. We’ve seen you guys around. And totally not in a creepy way or anything. We’re not stalkers. I just mean I’ve seen you pass by my locker. Not that I was looking for you or anything. I-It’s just that- well...um. I’m gonna.. stop there.” Peter finally chimes in with a painfully awkward laugh, but you swear it’s music to your ears.

Mj clears her throat, “Anyway, it’s your lucky day, nerds. Liz is having a party this Friday and these ladies don’t have dates, so you’re gonna take them. Ned with Gwen and Peter with Y/n.”

While Mj sits back and watches in amusement as Peter and Ned take turns stuttering words of confusion and hesitation, you lean over to Gwen, “Are we just going to let her set us up with them?” “Shh. It’s getting good.” Gwen shushes you.

“Well what about you, Mj? Won’t you be like.. the fifth wheel?” Ned asks a pretty valid question.

“As a young woman, I will be attending the party alone because I refuse to contribute to today’s patriarchal society norms.” Mj answers the question, sounding even more serious than you thought was possible.

The four of you are left speechless, none of you really knowing how to respond to that subtly backhanded statement. Mj continues, “They’ll be ready by 8:00 though. So don’t be late.”

“Demanding much? What if we had plans on Friday?” Peter scoffs while crossing his arms over his chest.

“You two have plans on a Friday night that don’t include a lego death star?” Mj mirrors his actions, calling his bluff.

Peter trades a defeated look with Ned and drops his arms. “No.” he sighs. “Good! So like I said, 8 o’clock. You’re dismissed.” Mj asserts before waving them off.

You get a sudden jolt of confidence and shoot Peter a small smile. He gives you one in return as he walks away with Ned.

“Really?!” You slap your hand on the table as soon as you were sure the two boys were out of earshot. “I believe the words you’re looking for are “Thank you, Mj. You’re the best!” but whatever.” The sarcastic girl smiles, obviously satisfied with her ‘leadership skills’, as she likes to call it.

You could just burst with embarrassment, “Oh, I have a few words I want to say, alright.” However, the bell rings before you get the chance.

- - - - -

The final bell of the day had finally rung and you walk to your locker in a slump. You spent the last three hours replaying the impromptu game of matchmaker at lunch over and over again in your head.

I can’t believe Mj pulled that stunt, you thought, but why was he so against it? He probably doesn’t want to go with me.

You absentmindedly put away your books and shut your locker. As you begin to walk towards the exit, you don’t even realize that the boy you’re constantly thinking of was right next to you.

Peter jogs a bit to catch up with you. “Uh h-hey, Y/n.” he says timidly, his voice making you stop dead in your tracks.

Your eyes widen and your legs now feel weak once you realize it’s really him. “Peter, hi!” you practically yell. Don’t seem too excited! You cringe at your eagerness before giving him a more calming, “Hi.”

The two of you chuckle at how awkward you both are. After a few seconds of silence and avoided eye contact, Peter is the first to start a conversation. “So lunch was pretty...” “Interesting?” you finish his sentence. “You read my mind.” He breathes as he looks down at his shoes.

You take this as your chance to apologize for your very bold acquaintance friend’s behavior. “I’m really really sorry about Mj. I had no idea she was going to do any of that. You and Ned don’t have to take us, if you guys don’t want to.” You manage to push out in one breath.

“No, it’s okay! I know how Mj is.” He reassures you with the sweetest smile possible. “I actually came to ask you what you’re wearing on Friday. I wouldn’t want to be underdressed.”

Heat immediately rushes to your face. This is not a drill! Okay, okay. Just breathe. Be cool. “Uhm I really haven’t given it much thought yet.” You tried your best to keep your composure despite the happiness coursing through your body.

“Oh, that’s totally cool!” Peter hesitates for a moment before saying, “Maybe we could, ya know, trade numbers and you can let me know later.”

You nod your head, maybe one too many times. “Yes, I think that’s a great idea.” You tell him, unable to hide the big smile plastered across your face.

The two of you chuckle once again at the awkward, yet somehow endearing, tension as you switch phones.

I can’t believe this is happening.

You can’t help but take notice of almost every little detail.

Peter’s phone has a screen protector, but still has a good sized crack on the top left corner.

There’s several unread messages, emails, and missed calls.

His home screen is a picture of probably the most beautiful sunset you could get in Queens. And oddly enough, the picture looks like it was taken from the very top of one of the skyscrapers.

I wonder how he got this picture.

After taking in as much as you could, you finally put in the 10 digits of your number. You simply put your name in as “Y/n” and locked the phone, handing it back to Peter, who was taking his sweet time.

Once you got back your phone, you see that he did not keep it as simple as you did. He put his contact name as “Peter :)))” and somehow managed to take and upload a contact photo as well. You smile widely at the sight on your screen.

“Awesome! So I’ll... text you later?” You say more as a question, but Peter doesn’t seem to notice this. “Yes, later! Sounds great.” He smiles as he walks backwards in the opposite direction from you.

“Y-yeah, uh, later!” You say as you copy his actions and also begin to walk backwards. “Later.” Peter gives you that smile that you love so much. You quickly turn around before he could see you blush anymore than he already has. Anyone with decent eyesight can see that you ended the day happier than you started it.

Okay, okay. Thanks, Mj.

- - - - -

“Oh what’s that, Peter? You want my number?” You say out loud, reenacting your conversation with Peter just minutes ago. The stares of strangers walking by you go unnoticed because you’re in your own little world, thinking about the boy of your dreams asking for your number!

“I mean sure, but I can’t promise I’ll get to you right away. There’s just SO many people blowing up my phone.” You say with a sigh as you dramatically place the back of your hand to your forehead. Wow, I’ve been hanging around Gwen too much.

You laugh to yourself, and continue your routine trek home until you hear a faint cry. To your right is a little girl, no older than seven years old, sitting on the stoop of these apartment buildings. You take a quick glance around, checking for any adults she might belong to. When you see no one around, you decide to check on her. With caution, you stroll over to where she’s sitting, and it was in this moment that you realize she’s cradling a small kitten.

You crouch down to her level, “Hey, sweetie. What’s wrong?”

The young girl looks up at you with her big, tearful eyes and then back down at the kitten. You let her sniffle a few times and muster up the courage to speak. “It’s my kitty.” her voice cracks, “He’s really sick, but my mom said we can’t go to the vet.”

You look down at the poor cat. His fur is matted, his breathing is labored, and he looks as if he hasn’t been eating. You can’t help but pity the both of them.

She can barely finish her sentence before breaking down again. Instinct kicking in, you start to rub small circles on her back in order to comfort her, “Don’t cry, don’t cry. I can help him!” The child instantly perks up.

“How are you gonna do that?” She questions skeptically while simultaneously placing the small creature in your hands.

You flash a smug smile before wiggling your fingers in front of her face. “With magic.” You whisper. The little girl’s eyes sparkle as she gazes upon the purple aura beaming from your hand.

You had no problem showing off your abilities to children. With their hyperactive imaginations and short attention spans, they don’t pose a threat when it comes to exposing your secret.

Finally turning your attention to the sickly kitten once more, you press your index and middle finger to its stomach. Just as it did with Gwen earlier today, the purple energy moves from your fingers and onto the kitten. It only takes a few seconds for the cat to spring out of your hands and back to its tiny owner, moving with full strength and purring happily.

The little girl gasps in pure amazement as she picks up her cat and squeezes it to her chest. “Thank you so much! I love magic now!” She squeals, a hint of sparkle still in her eyes.

You let out a lighthearted laugh and ruffle her already messy hair a little bit. “Sure thing, hun. You take good care of him!”

“I will, I will!” She smiles brightly before rising to her feet. “Mommy, mommy! Spiderman feels better now!”

and with that, the little girl disappears through the door.

Did she really name that cat Spiderman?

You roll your eyes and shake your head before carrying on.

- - - - -

“Alice, I’m home- woah. What the hell is this?” You spit in shock at the sight in front of you.

Your Aunt Alice walks up to you and gently pulls you through the doorway. She lets out a loud over exaggerated laugh, “Y/n, we have a guest! Don’t be rude when we have a billionaire in our house.” She whispers the last part to you.

“Uh- right! My apologies. I’m Y/n Y/l/n.” You walk up to the clean cut man with an outstretched hand.

He whips his sunglasses off of his face and you immediately feel ten times more intimidated and a hundred times more confused. He pushes himself off of your couch and steps in front of you.

The man placed his firm hand in yours and gives you a subtle shake, “I know who you are, kid. I’m Tony Stark.”

/ / / / / / / / / / / / / / / / / / / / / / / / / / / / / / / / / / / /

The next part!

Okay guys that’s the end of the introduction chapter!! I hope you guys like it! I’m sorry it’s everywhere right now, but it’ll start making more sense as it goes on, like most stories do.

I’m open for some feedback!! Let me know if the chapter was too long or too short. Maybe it could use more dialogue or less dialogue. Whatever you have in mind, just please be nice!! I haven’t written a story like this since I was like 15 so I might be a little rusty. If you’re still here, thank you for reading this far!!

edit: Sorry for any typos!!

#peter parker x reader #peter parker x avenger!reader #peter parker imagine #bucky barnes #bucky barnes x reader #peter parker x stark!reader #steve rogers #spiderman #spiderman: far from home #spiderman: homecoming #tom holland x reader #tom holland #sebastian stan #avengers x reader

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nights-legacy · 3 years

Text

Funny Way of Showing It - Shinsou x Sister! Reader Pt. 1

Main Masterlist MHA Masterlist

+You are the sister of Hitoshi Shinso. You are the same age and were both adopted by Aizawa and Yamada as a young children. Everyone knows how Hitoshi wanted to be in the hero course but instead you got in. You have a force field quirk that can be both used defensively and offensively. He says he's proud of you but why then is he pulling away from you?

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

I jumped in excitement after my letter of acceptance finished. I got into UA. Class 1-A even! I ran out of my room to Hitoshi’s. I knocked on the door lightly, not sure if he had finished his yet. I heard a humph inside before someone approached the door. I recognized the humph as a bad one. I set my head on the door frame as he opened the door.

“Hi.” I said. He nodded before turning back into his room. He plopped down on his bed. I sat down Indian style next to him. “So…did you get in?”

“Yeah.” He said solemnly. I cocked my head to the side. He glanced at me before sighing. “I got in but I got into General Studies, that’s it.” He said while closing his eyes. I saw an irritated look pass over his face before it went neutral. “How about you?”

“Yeah, I got in too.” I shrugged and looked away. I pursed my lips, feeling bad now. I know how bad he wanted to be in the hero course. I didn’t really care where I ended up. In reality, I was just trying to support Hitoshi.

“What class?” I heard him shift. He sat up, propped his knees up, and propped his arms on his knees. He looked at me expectantly. I sighed and straightened my back.

“Class 1-A.” I said biting my lip. I didn’t want to look at him but I did anyway. He was looking down with a slight upset look in his face. “I’m sorry Hitoshi. I know how much you wanted…” He held his hand to stop me. I snapped my mouth shut.

“It’s alright, sis.” He said. He set his hand down on mine. “I may be disappointed in placement but that doesn’t mean I can’t be in the hero course one day.” He smiled. I nodded before he pulled me into a bear hug.

“Ah!” I yelled and giggled.

“I am so proud of you though!” He said enthusiastically. “You didn’t even think you would get in let alone the top hero class. See, I told you your quirk is worth more than a shield.”

“Yeah, you were right.” I rolled my eyes and pushed him off by elbowing him. He groaned and let go. I looked over at him, he seemed happy but I knew that this would bother him more than he would let on. A few chuckles from the door caught our attention. We looked to see our dads standing there.

“Congrats you two.” Dadzawa said. He had a soft smile on his face. PapaMic was nearly jumping in place.

“Did you two know?”

“Weeellll…” Papa started. “We knew that you two got in but we didn’t know your placements until your letters were delivered.”

“Just in case loud mouth here couldn’t keep his mouth shut.” Dad threw his thumb over his shoulder. We laughed as Papa looked at him in annoyance. “Also, just because you are now my student, doesn’t mean I’m going to be easy on you young lady/man.”

“I wouldn’t have it any other way.” I said hopping up. “Just please, all I ask is don’t expel the entirety of the class like that one time. That would suck.”

“Crap. Yeah please don’t do that again. I mean I wouldn’t be able to deal with them being all mopey.” Hitoshi laughed, pointing at me.

“Hey!” I exclaimed offended before pouncing on him. I wrestled with him, ignoring the bounds of laughter behind us. The wrestling went on for a bit but ended up with me pinned by Hitoshi sitting on my back. “Fine I give up.”

“Wimp.” He said. I rolled my eyes before hitting him with a small force field. He flew off my back and I got up and bolted. “Hey! No force fields in the house!”

~Time Skip~

The weeks leading up to class starting were nerve racking. Preparations, the little paperwork, and other things. All that, along with Hitoshi being distant and quiet now and then. Well, more than his normal quiet behavior. The day classes started was the worst yet. We left for school but he hadn’t said one word to me. He wouldn’t even look at me straight.

“Have a good day, Toshi.” I said as we made it in the doors. He nodded and walked off without a word. I sighed and walked to my classroom. I took a breath and walked into the classroom. At least half the class was already here.

“Heyo!” A couple of others waved to me. I shyly waved back. I sat down and kept to myself. The last few showed up and stood in the door. A familiar yellow sleeping bag caught my attention. I rolled my eyes at his antics as the students at the door got spooked. I sighed and got up when he said we are going to do quirk testing.

“What about orientation?” I chuckled when Dad gave out an annoyed sigh. The day went on and I made a few friends. I stayed away from the loud, explosive blonde that had been the subject of the news a while back. The red head Kirishima was really nice and Yayorozo was pretty cool too. I groaned, rubbing the back of my neck as I waited in the classroom for my dad’s to finish.

“So how was your first day kiddo?” Papa came in the door with Dad in tow.

“Exhausting.” I said giving dad a look. He just shrugged. “But no one was expelled. So that was good. I am curious though. What made you not expel that Midoriya kid? Everyone thinks it was just a ploy to make everyone do their best but I know different. So what was that?”

“I saw potential in the kid. Nothing more. See how long he lasts.” He said. Papa and I shared a look.

“Uh huh. Sure.” I said. I got a side, stink eye. I laughed before Papa spoke up.

“So have you talked to Hitoshi today?” I looked at him before looking at the surface of my desk. I shook my head sighing. “What has gotten into that boy? You two barely go a day without talking.” I just shrugged, staring out the window.

The next couple of days passed the same. Hitoshi and I would go to school together, silently. I would wish him a good day and I would either get nod or a wave in response. He did not speak to me much out of necessity at home either. I sighed as I pushed around my breakfast on my plate. I looked up as Hitoshi washed his dishes.

“So how’s school been on you?”

“It’s only been two days.” He said blankly. I flinched. “But how was hero training on you?” He looked over his shoulder at me. “I heard a couple of guys in your class really got into it.”

“Ye-yeah. They did. Apparently they were childhood friends that’s turned into a rivalry or something. It really hyped the rest of us up for our turns.” I said. He hummed and turned back. I bit my lip. I went to say something else but he spoke again.

“Must be nice.” He set the dishes down hard in the drainer. I flinched again. He wiped off his hands and walked towards the front door. “I’m heading out first, see ya later, sis.”

“By…” The front door slammed. I sighed before scraping the remnants of my breakfast and washing my dishes and leaving. I walked to the train station and made it to school. Dad announced we were going to the USJ. The whole class was excited. The day was going to be great. At least that’s what we thought.

“Y/N.” I felt a hand on my shoulder. I looked up through my haze to see Papa. I had gotten hit pretty hard by some of the villains. Some were able to outsmart me and get around my shields. I was holding my side where I just knew I had a couple of broken ribs.

“Papa.” I whimpered as I tried to move.

“Don’t move too much.” He knelt down. He moved my hair and held my face, checking me over.

“Dad, he…” He shushed me. Someone called him and he looked over his shoulder. I felt myself getting more dizzy. I heard him speak with someone. I collapsed into his lap.

“Y/N!” I heard him yell before I blacked out. I woke up sometime later in Recovery Girl’s office. I groaned as I pushed myself up. I heard the curtain being pulled back.

“Oh good. You’re awake.” Papa said.

“Yes but what about Dad?” He smiled but sighed. He sat down on the edge of the bed.

“He’s holding. He’s beat up pretty bad but he’s strong. You know that.” He brushed hair out of my face. “You dad will be okay.” I nodded. Recovery Girl cleared me and we went home. We walked in the door and Hitoshi shot up from the couch.

“Thank god your back.” He said in relief. I felt emotionally and physically drained so I just walked past him to my room, giving him a small ‘yeah’. “Y/N…” I walked into my room, let my bag drop, and carefully changed clothes before climbing into bed. I heard my door open. “Y/N.”

“I’m fine, Hitoshi.” He heard him pause before he moved forward. I felt him place a hand on my shoulder.

“Are you sure? I mean, you went up against a whole fleet of villains. Real villains. Normally, hero students wouldn’t even see that until…”

“I know. Wouldn’t see that until further into the course. I know Hitoshi.” I sat up. I looked at him. I could see worry laced in his eyes. “I’m fine. I mean I gotta get used to this right? The bad guys, the danger…” I looked down at my hands. “You’re more cut out for this than I am.”

“Y/N…you are cut out for this. I believe in you.” He said grabbing my hand. I looked at it before up at him.

“You have a funny way of showing it, Hitoshi.” I deadpanned before pulling my hand from his and turning over with my back to him. I could almost feel the surprise rolling off of him. “Goodnight, Hitoshi.”

“I, um, goodnight.” He left my room without another word.

@spicy-therapist-mom @dxnaii-rxse

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fnf-amateur-writing · 3 years

Note

Hey! It’s Fox again! How are you doing? I just started school back up today, so I’ve been busy Xp.

Think you would be cool with writing some Pico with an s/o who is a writer, and tends to ask him about things like “hey, how long does it take someone to bleed out” or other things like that?

I understand if you don’t feel like it, and I hope you’re having fun 😊

🦊

Hello again Fox, I'm doing quite well rn. I'm cool with your prompt, especially since I need more writing material anyways.

Took me a while, because I didn't want to do a hc, but rather come up with a oneshot with a little twist to the style. Well, hope it works well.

Good luck with school, mate!

TW: Mentions of violence, swearing, slight sexual reference, and crime.

Pico with a writer S/O who asks him strange questions

Prologue:

On a chilly autumn morning, you were sitting out on your patio with a laptop and a mug of your favourite beverage next to you. Whenever you looked up, you could see the warm coloured leaves fall as the breeze accompanied you. The whole scene was an aesthetic.

When your boyfriend, Pico, came outside to see this, he knew that the nice environment you surrounded yourself with meant one thing. "You're back in your writing space already. Heh, with that bestseller you published, I thought you were comfy taking a break." You simply smiled and said, "can't waste the inspiration rush I got right now."

Pico had a good point though, with your rising popularity as an author, you were near set to retire before turning fourty. But you wish you weren't given all of the credit, since your boyfriend's stories of his dodgy job has occasionally sparked some ideas for your stories. However the books you wrote in the past were usually meant for the young adult and had few mature themes. This time, you thought maybe it's time to garner extra inspiration from those stories.

You were met with some disappointment when you realised that your mug was empty, only a drop entering your mouth. "Here, babe, I'll ya some more," Pico said, taking your mug and walking inside. "Quick question," you stopped him. "Yeah?"

"What would be the best place for a murder cemetery?"

"... What?"

Chapter 1:

"So you're doing some story about the police hunting down a mass murderer?"

"Pretty much."

"And to think you were gonna write Pixar's next script. Aight' I respect that." Pico takes a seat next to you with a refill of your drink placed next to your favourite writing laptop. "Thanks, Pico. But yeah, I want to branch out to something edgier, and I think you can help too."

"Let me show you what I've got so far." You showed him some of your notes in a little notepad document, detailing the story thus far and your current plans for this chapter. "Oh, that's it? Just looks like boring police preparation mainly," Pico commented. "Yeah, it's not much right now. But it'll get juicy later." "And bloody?" "And bloody."

"Welp, I'm gonna head back in," Pico got up, "let me know if you need anything." He head back inside, closing the door, but then opened it almost immediately afterwards. Pico stuck his head out, "by the way, the guy should use some strong alcohol or something to throw off those sniffer dogs."

Chapter 2:

"And then, because they used a silencer, the police don't immediately notice the--"

"Nope! I'm calling bullshit (Y/N)!" Pico had suddenly interrupted your explanation of the scene you were currently working on. "Silencers can help prevent some hearing loss, sure, but they're not magic."

"Alright," you reply, "no silencer, but the killer still has to kill in a way to not get blood on them, so I thought shooting and killing them from a distance would work." "Well, they're alone. Instead, have the guy get shanked in the neck or something, and have the killer use a plastic bag as a glove. It saved my ass one time."

"Woah!" you exclaimed with a giggle, "you used a knife once? What happened to my trigger happy boyfriend, huh? That's pretty sus."

"I forgot to reload the Uzis, alright?"

"What an impostor would say."

Chapter 3:

"What would be the best way to muffle the scream of someone you kidnapped?"

You two were sitting on the couch together watching a show. You didn't have your laptop on you, so Pico didn't expect you to still be thinking about that book. "I can't say from experience, really," he said as he paused the show. "However, shove a rag in their mouth and duct tape it in, and you should be good."

"Thanks Pico, also one more thing." "Yeah?" "What if our killer also wanted to..." God, this one was gonna be awkward, but you had to say it or else no help. "You know, cut off this victim's willy. How would you do that?"

"Wai-wha-uh-ga," Pico started fumbling his words like never before. He stopped, then took a deep breath. "YO, WHAT THE FUCK?!" "It'll make sense in the story later, I promise!" You watch Pico begin to lose it, breaking into laughter. "Ladies, gentlemen, and others," Pico dramatically stood up, pulling a little Showcaster impression and directing his arms towards you, "my famous 'young' adult novelist partner!"

Chapter 4:

It was in the dead of night, but you awoke to Pico on his phone. His vpn was on and Tor was up. As per usual, he was checking up on his little hitman service, where others could request for a certain someone's guts to fly if they paid him a hefty sum first. Though tired, you ound this to be the best time to ask him some more questions.

"Pico, how do those sites work?"

"Oh, you're awake," Pico blankly stated, sleepy too. But he still answered you. "Basically, some anonymous rich guys in the area give me money and a target, then I just do the thing and send a mission accomplished email." "Do they pay you in person?" "Nah, we use always use Bitcoin. It's a lot harder to trace than real money."

"Thanks Pico. Goodnight," you wish him, yawning and going back to sleep. "You too... So this guy is a hit man too?" "Hush. Tomorrow." "Okay." Pico puts his phone away, leaving it on a nightstand. You then spoon the night away, peacefully thinking of murder as you drifted off.

Chapter 5:

On a morning similar to before, you two sat on the patio with your drinks and laptop at the ready. Pico watched rather awkwardly as you typed away, wondering why you haven't entertained him with another question yet.

"You gonna ask anything else?" "What? Oh, nah," you plainly state. Inevitable, sure, but he was kind of saddened. He liked being able to share his messed up wisdom. "So, you're done?" "Almost." You turn to look at him, "want the spoilers?" Pico smiled, "sure thing."

In the novella you and Pico crafted together, the main character is a cop who hunts down a killer. They eventually notice that there would be two murders at a time for unknown reasons. Well, it was unknown until one victim had left up a dark web hit man for hire site. They that the hit man not only kills the target, but the client as a hidden price for the service.

And any request will be fulfilled, according to the hit man's site.

"Do they catch 'em?" Pico asked. "Well, ANY request is granted. So, if our hero were to... hire him to kill himself..."

"No way!"

"He did. They find both of their bodies in his bedroom."

Pico was a bit impressed with the ending you came up with, but then he remembered something. "Why did that guy get his thing cut off?" "Lol, I forgot," you giggled. "He sent a message to the hit man, saying he wishes the target would choke on his dick."

"That's my favourite part."

Epilogue:

After everything was finished up, you sent the book off to your editor. After the initial joy of knowing how the story ended, you saw that Pico was still in thought. "What's up with you?" "Oh nothing, well it's just... I'm probably just biased, being that I'm a bit of a hitman myself, but it's kind of sad to see the guy go."

"Then I should spoil the epilogue I came up with." Rather than being excited, Pico nervously asked, "what's an epilogue?" He didn't get an answer, only you staring at him. "Sorry, school held too many bad memories for me to pay attention."

"Anyways," you continue, "the rest of the police gang did some background checks, and find that our killer was a normal guy with no criminal history."

"Penilian?"

"No. But I did decide to take a more supernatural approach here. Somewhere across the country, another string of double homicides occur and that site is active once more. And the story kind of repeats itself."

"Penilian."

"You joker," you give him a playful little kiss on the cheek, one that definitely caught him off guard. "So is it canon?" Pico smirked. "Nah, just thanking you for being my cute little co-author." "Oh," Pico started, "so we're flirtin' now, huh. Come here babe!" He tackled you onto the ground, giving you several kisses in exchange.

"Actually, I think we call that 'making out'," you chuckle out, flustered. "But that doesn't mean I said stop'!" You pull him in for more, accidentally bonking your heads together rather painfully. "Nice double kill there, (Y/N)."

#fnf x reader #fnf imagines #pico x reader #fnf pico

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skellebonez · 3 years

Note

Hmmm how about MK and Monkie King with number 1 and number 45

I wanted to write a follow up to a certain fill that got some wonderful art recently too! But then the finale happened and now I made it depressing, sorry. Spoilers for... everything as this is set 3 days after the final episode. This also plays around with the “Sun Wukong is still super immortal and powerful but...” and other theories. (second prompt line is only used as inspiration in fill)

Do not give me that look./ You may technically be an adult, but you’re still my child.

The moment MK's curse was lifted and he was re-aged from 4 years old to adult Wukong acted like nothing had happened at all. No understanding conversations about how his powers could hurt him, no cooking together, no video games, and no accidental couch naps. It was as if the entire day had been undone to the sands of time.

But MK remembered and when the literal next day Wukong announced he was going on vacation... let's just say he was not happy in the slightest. He had tried to voice his objections, citing the Spider Queen as a prime example for why they should be worried, but the immortal monkey just flashed him dual thumbs up with a “Monkey King Out!” and flashed off somewhere MK couldn’t follow.

And now he was back and while MK had been more than happy to get going at first, to push everything that happened deep down inside him and ignore it for as long as possible (why was he doing that, he needed to stop doing that, look where that got them he was a mistake a bad choice as a successor and now he’s barely a successor at all) there was only so long he could go before it became clear there was more wrong than what Sun Wukong was telling him.

There was more wrong with Sun Wukong himself that he refused to admit.

He tried to hide it as well as he could. Despite the heat outside and the fur covering his body he still wore full body clothing. Hiding away the gashes and healing scars that riddled his form now. There was a nick in his eyebrow that had never gone away, and when MK watched closely he could see his mentor sometimes place his hand too far to the left when grabbing something. He walked with a slight limp, though that had improved over the last few days.

And he was quiet. Yes, when someone was addressing him he was “yeah totally, we got this fam, onward westward!”, but when MK caught him alone... especially outside on the deck of the drone, watching the horizon, he was more quiet and still than the Monkie Kid had ever seen him before.

Or maybe he was always like this and now Wukong was too hurt or distracted enough or just didn’t care anymore that MK was finally seeing him.

It was hard to tell with how distant he had been the last three days. Distant in the same way the day after the curse was lifted, but quieter.

“We need to talk,” He said from behind his mentor, watching as Wukong’s tail jumped only a little. Maybe that was just surprise at the words themselves. “Alone. Please.”

He expected Wukong to brush him off, to say “aw bud, can’t it wait? look at the sunset!” despite the sun having set so far they barely had any light left or something else. But instead he straightened up (MK heard the slight crack of his back again, much softer than when he had first heard it after their crash landing, and he wondered how much his back had healed from whatever injury it had) and turned to his student with an odd expression. Somewhat soft and fond and somewhat worried and resigned. Like this was more than just 3 days coming (and it was).

“Let’s... get something to eat first, alright?”

MK didn’t mention that they had eaten just over an hour ago.

They sat in the kitchen of the drone, alone under the dimmed lights with cups of tea and sliced fruit between them (mostly for Wukong). Neither had said anything as they prepared the small snack, and neither said anything as they sat down and took sips of their tea.

MK had made it slightly too strong.

“What did you want to ask first?” Wukong started off, picking up a peach slice and biting into it carefully. Slowly. This was something else that was noticed. Before when eating the Monkey King would just shove whatever he was eating in his mouth and MK wasn't certain he tasted it. But now it was like he was trying to make every meal last as long as possible. “There’s... a lot. I can tell.”

“We spent an entire day together and then you left without telling me anything,” MK said firmly, gripping the tea cup in his hands. He squeezed harder, just to see what would happen. It should have shattered... it didn’t. “Why didn’t you just... say something?”

“... I thought I was protecting you,” Wukong admitted honestly, taking another bite of peach. “And the city, the others... That if I acted distant you wouldn’t wonder where I went a-”

“Wouldn’t wonder wh- no!” MK interrupted, gritting his teeth. “No, Monkey K- Wukong.” The change in how MK addressed him made Wukong jolt, looking at him with wide eyes. He had never called him by his name before now. “We spent an entire day together. You took care of me, helped me when my powers went haywire, helped me make food! You never treated me like that before! You treated me like... Like I was...”

“My kid,” Wukong finished for him, now looking down into his tea cup. “MK... You’re an adult, I know that, but somewhere down the line I started to think of you as... I didn’t know till then I guess, and that terrified me. The idea of you getting hurt that day was the only thing that compared to admitting I got attached to you as more than just my student.”

Had this revelation come sooner MK might have been more surprised. More disbelieving. But after that day and everything that happened once the curse was gone...

“... you have a funny way of showing it,” MK snapped without thinking, eyes widening and jolting upright when he realized what he had said. “I-”

“Don’t,” Wukong said with a shake of his head, sipping his tea with a sigh. “You deserve to be angry with me. I talked to, uh... Pigsy? Sandy too. Tang.... Mei. Your boss in particular laid into me pretty hard after the excitement died down... Don’t know how I went 1000 years without knowing what a ‘lie by omission’ was.”

“... you abandoned me.”

“Yes... I didn’t mean it that way, but that doesn’t change that I did.”

“You didn’t trust me.”

“NO.” Wukong said firmly, voice raised for the first time in days. MK glowered at him. “No, that is one thing I will not back down on. Yes, I lied to you and left you behind and that was a mistake I will need to make up for over a long time, but it wasn’t because I didn’t trust you. I trusted you to take care of yourself, to teach yourself the lessons I left behind, and take care of the city. And you did! You did so much better than I even hoped for, and I hoped so badly that you would do as well as you did! I didn’t leave you there because I didn’t trust you, I left you there because I did... and because I thought I had to do everything myself...” He sighed, running a hand down his face. “I’ve been alone so long... I forgot I could do things with help on my end, I guess...”

“If... If Lady Bone Demon hadn’t finished what she was doing...?”

“Had the Lady Bone Demon not been working faster than I thought she was I would have come back with nothing less than even more trust in you as my successor.”

“... am I even still your successor without...?” MK trailed off, trying to keep his voice level. The tea cup still held strong.

“Yes,” Wukong assured, reaching out to put a hand on MK’s shoulder. MK noticed how he almost missed and corrected his hand. “The staff and my powers alone didn’t make you my successor. I picked you before those, remember? You’re still the Monkie Kid, MK. Nothing is going to change that for me.”

The young man went quiet for a moment, taking a shaky breath. He wanted to ask why he was chosen, what made him so special... but there would be time for that in the future. For now he had gotten at least some of his questions answered. But there was something much more pressing to touch on.

“,,, you’ve been lying to all of us,” he accused suddenly, reaching up and grabbing the wrist of Wukong’s hand on his shoulder before he could pull back. He looked his mentor in the face, watching as Wukong’s eyes widened in realization and horror. “Do not give me that look. Stop... please, stop lying. I’m not stupid, I can see you’re still hurt bad. You’re supposed to be invincible but you came back hurt and... and almost nothing can hurt you!”

Wukong didn’t meet MK’s gaze, looking down at their snack as he breathed heavily and shakily. He knew he was caught, that much was obvious.

“Please... talk to me, for once. I know I do the same thing, I lied to everyone else by not telling them about LBD or the calabash or Macaque coming back-” Wukong tensed at that, an odd sound escaping his throat. “-and look where it got us. We both need to talk. To everyone else. To each other.”

Wukong’s arm was shaking where MK held it, but he didn’t try to pull it back. Not until MK let it go. He sat back down, looking at the table like it held all the secrets of the universe before bringing his hand up to cover his eye. The one with the nicked eyebrow.

“Bud...” Wukong started, biting his lip. There was something wrong in his tone. “I... you were going to find out eventually. I can’t keep this up forever, not like Macaque can.” MK tensed at the mention of the other immortal monkey, watching as Wukong did not move his hand. “This takes a lot of focus. And... with my invincibility partly gone-”

“What?” MK asked, so soft he thought Wukong hadn’t heard him.

“... You didn’t get my powers from the staff, MK,” Wukong said. “And they don’t just duplicate. That’s not how they work. From day one I have been... siphoning my powers to you. Bit by bit. As you got better at controlling them I would give you more until I felt I didn’t need them myself anymore. When I locked away your invincibility I just undid what I had given you and slowed down the transfer... you’d been half invincible for weeks.”

“No...” MK started, slowly realizing what Wukong was implying. “No, no you’re lying again! This is a terrible, horrible prank!” Despite wanting to be quiet before MK found himself yelling. “Say you’re still lying!”

“No,” Wukong shook his head, looking down at the scar on his arm that was now visible as his sleeve had slipped down. “Most of this will probably heal eventually, except maybe one thing, and I’m still immortal! There’s no undoing that no matter what I do. I’m not dying any time soon. But my transformations? Cloning? My cloud...” He trailed off at that, breaking in a shaky breath. “You didn’t even get to use that... Lady Bone Demon took all of it when she took it from you. I still have some powers, some of my transformations and hair stuff and some invincibility... but I’m not the same overpowered Monkey King you met when you freed DBK...”

And as he trailed off, Wukong lowered his hand. Something flickered, something familiar. Too familiar. Reminiscent of Macaque’s shadows but brighter. And after there was something else reminiscent. In reverse.

MK had only seen it for a split second, when all of Macaque’s glamor magic had dropped. The milky white right eye and the scar over it that was left behind from his battle with Wukong 500 years ago.

And now Wukong looked at him with a similarly white left eye, a similar scar that wasn’t just a nicked eyebrow running down his face.

It makes sense in retrospect, much more. MK supposed that when you lose an eye you lose depth perception and it takes a while to get used to judging where things are.

“... what happened before you came in to save me?” MK asked quietly, watching as more of the glamor fell with a curse from Wukong. There was another nick on his cheek that was still healing, a piece of one of his ears had been ripped off too. No doubt there were more injuries under his clothes that Wukong hadn’t let anyone see.

“She has Macaque under her control,” Wukong said plainly, groaning as he held his head. “Damn, that... letting that down...” He groaned again and before MK could realize what was happening Wukong’s eyes rolled back into his head and he slipped from his chair to the floor.

“WUKONG!” MK shot up, rushing over to his side and yelling over his shoulder in the hopes someone would hear. “Pigsy! D-DADSY! Help, SOMETHING’S WRONG!”

When Pigsy rushed in with the others in tow Wukong hadn't regained consciousness.

#and i shall leave it there because I am clearly evil #monkie kid #lego monkie kid #gen fic #monkey king #sun wukong #mk #qi xiaotian #lmk spoilers #i have too may theories and this is just one #prompt fill

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smol-and-grumpy · 3 years

Text

Legally Yours - Ch. 26

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Reader

Summary: Dean Winchester tops the list of hottest entrepreneurs 2020 and yet, there’s still something he wants but can’t have because, in order to get that, he would have to settle down and get married. She agrees too quickly because she wants to secure a more comfortable life for her and her daughter. Will she be able to help Dean get what he wants without losing herself in the fake story they spin up to deceive his father and the world?

Chapter Warnings: We’re still at the angst, because someone’s obviously still an idiot. We also might detect some jealousy.

WC: 4214

Beta’d by: @deanwanddamons <3

This series is complete on Patreon

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Series Masterlist ~ SPN Masterlist

Five days later, she’s sitting in her kitchen, job application website open on her laptop while Bobby’s at work and Olivia’s at school.

The first night was hard on the girl. Olivia crawled into bed with her, spinning up tales that she missed her toys they left at Dean’s but she is sure that a part of the little girl’s heart is aching for Dean because hers is too.

Y/N hasn’t heard from him and it took everything in her not to shoot him a message and ask him how he’s doing. She’s fairly certain that if she would choose to go down that road, she’ll get weak and that’s against the new rule that she’s set up for herself in order to protect herself and her family.

Donna sent her a text when she arrived back at her old apartment, asking how her honeymoon was going and when Y/N told her that she’s back, Donna offered to come over. They sat around the tiny kitchen table with boxed wine between them, drinking and talking. Yeah, boxed wine. Over are the days of cheap bottles. Well, she reckons she could afford it with the money from the marriage contract but she’d rather not as she has a future to think about.

She didn’t sulk, didn’t allow herself to. She needed to be strong for Olivia and keep it all together. Her friend parted with a promise to help her find a man who she deserved. She only smiled. Couldn’t find it in her heart to say that she’s not looking for a man, that she thinks that Dean’s ruined her for all other men, that she’s most likely destined to be alone forever. At least she has Liv, and honestly, that’s all that counts. God, she’s so glad to have that little girl. She would have been broken beyond repair if it wasn't for Liv.

While she touches up her CV at the kitchen table where she poured her heart out to Donna the evening before, her phone starts to buzz next to her. Her heart jumps. She hates the buzz of her phone because she’ll always think that it could be Dean and when it’s not him, she will always feel so deflated. Somehow, she’s okay with the situation but a little part of her still hopes that he would change his mind and come back to her.

This time it’s no different when she looks at her phone. If anything, it’s even worse. Sam’s calling.

She debates on not picking up but decides that she has to because he’s probably calling about the annulment. It’s really the only thing left that keeps her tied to Dean on a contractual level, and after she signs that, it’s like the marriage never existed.

“Sam?”

“Yeah, uh, hi, Y/N,” The man can be heard on the other end. A little breath leaves him, and she can imagine that he’s smiling. Ever the friendly Sam. She can’t lie, she misses him too.

“You’re calling about the annulment?” She gets straight to the point. There’s really no point in stretching this out unnecessarily.

“Um, actually no. Dean’s not really talkative and he’s not going to sign it.”

“What do you mean he’s not going to sign it?” She doesn’t understand, has a hard time wrapping her head around it. Why did Dean still want to be married to her when she walked away from him? There’s no point in pretending anymore and she has made up her mind. The only way she’s going is forward and not back. She wants to move on.

“Don’t worry about it. He’s only been back two days, I need time to talk him through it. We should have the annulment finalized by Monday, I promise.”

“I trust you,” She says into the receiver, because she does. If someone can talk sense into Dean, it will probably be Sam. “How is he?”

“Do you want to hear the truth or do you want me to lie to make you feel better?”

“Lie.”

“He’s doing great.”

“That’s good.”

Sam snorts, “Well, I knew you'd feel better if you knew that he’s doing okay without you.”

“You’re right. I don’t want him to feel bad but somehow I also want him to, you understand?”

A burst of laughter rumbles on the other end, “I know,” Sam replies, “He’s a gigantic dick, Y/N. I think he knows that and he’s beating himself up for it. He’s been back at work for two days and according to Rowena, it’s hell. He doesn’t talk to anyone and if he opens his mouth, it’s to shout at people.”

“Wow, he’s coping well.”

The man laughs again, “Dean’s never been good at taking rejections. He’ll get over it, eventually. Someday. Maybe. Well,” Sam pauses and exhales loudly, “Tell you the truth, I don’t think he’ll get over it. I’ve never seen him like this and it scares me, hence me calling you.”

Y/N feels sorry for him. And there she thought that she was miserable without him. Somehow it gives her a little satisfaction to know that he’s doing just as bad, if not worse. Can anyone blame her to feel like this?

“I’m not going to go back to him just so that he’ll stop being an ass to other people.”

“That’s not what I was going to ask you about.”

“Ah, why beat around the bush, Sam. What is it?”

Sam sighs, “Okay, as you might know, Dean hasn’t told anyone that you two broke up.”

“Why am I not surprised?” She hopes Sam can feel through the phone how hard she’s rolling her eyes right now.

“Shush,” Sam scolds and continues before she can say sorry for interrupting him, “He has a charity gala to attend tonight, and it would be great if you would accompany him.”

The bark of laughter that leaves her mouth is hard to hold back, “You what?”

Sam’s not laughing, “I mean it, Y/N. He’s not doing great and he has to attend. Technically you are still his wife and you have a contract, so..”

“Oh, please, don’t come at me with a contract, Sam. Dean told me that I’m allowed to walk away. He said that he doesn’t need me to get the shares. He wasn’t the one stopping me when I walked out on him, so tell me, why should I do this? Why should I pretend when I don’t have to anymore?”

“Because you still care about him,”

Sam’s answer is a hit to her heart. She does. She cares so fucking much but also, that means that she’s not going to give in because it’s time to put herself first. She can’t hold herself together for Olivia’s sake when there’s nobody backing her up. She won’t go through this again.

Of course Sam’s on Dean’s side. He’s friendly to her but if Sam would have to pick sides, it would always be Dean’s.

“I’m sorry,” She says, her voice shaking a little. No, she’s not going to cry. Not again. Not anymore.

“Okay,” Sam relents too easily, “Can’t blame me for trying.”

“No, I can’t. Dean’s lucky to have you as a friend.” She means it.

“I’ll come to see you as soon as Dean signs the papers, Y/N.”

“Thank you.”

“Take care of yourself and Olivia, okay? And tell me if you need anything.”

“I will, Sam. Thanks.”

“Goodbye, Y/N.”

She hangs up before she can say goodbye. The phone drops onto the table and she’s back to burying her face into her arms as she sobs.

For the next five weeks, Y/N tries to avoid looking at tabloids pages, instead, concentrating on Olivia and helping to ease the little girl back into her old environment.

Of course there have been texts from Donna telling her that there’s no news from Dean, at least not with another woman. She knows that she shouldn’t care about it, because if he wants to date again, it’s his right, but somehow, she can’t help but feel the pinpricks in her heart. It’s not something bad but something good because it keeps her hopes alive for a while. After she was reluctant to answer Donna's text about Dean in the first two weeks, her friend has decided that she doesn’t want to update Y/N anymore. Which is also fine with her. The less she’s reminded of Dean, the quicker it will be to get over him.

She snorts out a laugh at that thought. Yeah, right.

Bobby has been weird the last two weeks too. He went out to meetings, saying it has something to do with his union but she knows that he doesn’t even have a union so she really doesn’t have any explanation for the two to three times the man went AWOL when he should be home but again, it’s nothing that should worry her. Bobby is still young enough to have his own life. She guesses that it has to do with a new lady friend maybe. Maybe Bobby’s being cautious too, maybe he doesn’t want her and Olivia to know when things aren’t steady with the two. She couldn’t blame him for thinking like that.

Tonight is the first time in over a month that she feels comfortable enough to leave the security of her own home. Perhaps Donna has something to do with it, begging her to finally go out and face the world, and Y/N can’t lie that Donna’s not right. It’s time to face it like a grown-up. She can’t be buried in her four walls forever. She eventually has to go out and socialize. She’s been going out a lot for interviews but that’s about it. No company has called her back yet, though. Thankfully, she still has more than enough money to get by.

As soon as she arrives at The Roadhouse and Donna sees her, the woman is quick to be by her side, “I have a surprise for you!”

“Oh no,” Y/N rolls her eyes, “I hate surprises.”

“It’s not bad, I just thought, you know,”

“Donna,” She warns her friend. Somehow, she doesn’t like where this discussion is going.

“There’s this guy, I invited him. He’s nice, so be nice, okay? He’s not going to be the love of your life, I know that too but you should put yourself out there, just a drink, okay? It will broaden up your horizon, maybe get your ex-husband out of your mind for a little bit.”

Jesus, Donna’s talking a mile a minute. She barely understands what the woman is raving on about.

“What?”

“There,” Donna pulls her close, points a finger to the booth where Garth is sitting with someone whose back is turned to her.

“Oh, Donna, no!”

“Why, Donna yes!” The blonde exclaims cheerily before placing her hands on Y/N shoulders and pushing her towards the booth. “His name is Cubbie.”

“Cub-what?”

“It’s a nickname, Y/N.”

“If that’s the nickname I don’t wanna know about his real name.”

“Cuthbert. Cuthbert Sinclair, if you wanna know. He’s a magician.”

“That’s great. Super.” Y/N groans and turns around towards the exit but Donna’s hand is firm around her shoulders, guiding her back to where Garth is already standing up to make room for her.

“Hey, Cubbie! This is Y/N, the woman I talked to you about.” Donna’s all smiles and somehow, Y/N’s hand itches to hurt her friend.

“I’m Y/N,” She says then. The only way is forward now.

Cubbie, still what a fucking weird name, stands up and his hands immediately go to her arms and pulls her closer to press a wet kiss on her cheek.

Ew. Oh no, this won’t end well.

Reluctantly she sits down, wonders how long she has to sit here until she can get up and leave without being too rude.

She lets him buy her a drink and he orders fries to share between them while they talk. It’s not exactly bad but they just share small talk about the weather and where they’re from.

“So, you’re a magician?” She tries to sound like she’s interested, wanting to get into the deeper conversational territory.

“Yeah,” Cubbie reaches over and strokes her hair behind her ear and when he sits back up, he shows her the coin that he apparently pulled out of her, a bright smile dotes his face. She does her best to resist the urge to roll her eyes.

“Good god,” She exclaims and the man laughs.

He goes on to tell her about magic, which she again, has no interest in listening to. Jesus, the man can talk. While she debates on maybe hurting herself with a toothpick to have a fucking reason to get out, Cubbie excuses himself to go to the bathroom but before he goes, he leans down next to her, “How about we’re doing a little disappearing act, huh?”

“Oh god,” She huffs out but Cubbie doesn’t get her blatant disinterest. He just smiles at her.

“Think about it, I’ll be right back.”

Good riddance, is what she wants to say but doesn’t. Instead, she smiles a faux smile.

While he’s gone, she takes out her phone, shooting Bobby a text that she’ll probably won’t be that long when he feels someone is taking a seat in the booth opposite of her.

“Back alread—”

The word won’t come out because it’s not Cubbie who’s sitting across from her but Dean.

He has a cap on his head, is dressed casually in a black t-shirt underneath a blue plaid shirt. There are faint black circles under his eyes. He has shaved off his beard but from the length of the stubble, she can tell that he’s in the process of growing it out again.

“C’mon, Y/N, seriously? That guy?” He asks, sounding offended, and honestly, it’s not what she really wants the first thing out his mouth to be after not being on speaking terms for over a month.

“It’s none of your business, Dean.” She snaps at him.

“You’re right. It isn’t.” He agrees, “What is he? An accountant?”

“He has a name and he’s a magician.”

Dean barks out a laugh and even though it’s mean, she can’t help but smirk with him.

“His name is Cubbie.” She adds, which earns another hearty laugh from Dean.

“Cubbie the magician?” He cocks an eyebrow.

“I don’t know if he has a stage name,” Y/N shrugs, “He asked me if I wanna do a disappearing act with him.”

“Oh, he will disappear, alright,” Dean growls angrily.

She can’t read him. Why is he here, why is he crashing her blind date? So she asks, “Dean, what is this? Why are you here?”

“I’m here every week to see if you’ll be here.”

“You know that there are phones, right?”

“Would you have answered the phone if I called?” He challenges her and she holds his gaze. He’s right, she probably wouldn’t, even if she was hoping that he’d call but she doesn’t think that she would have picked it up because she doesn’t know if her heart can take what he’s going to tell her over the phone. “Yeah, I thought so. How’s Olivia?”

“She’s good. She enjoys being back at school. She’s going on a field trip in two weeks and I think I’m going to go along to chaperone.”

Honestly, Y/N has no idea why she’s telling him that. Why she easily falls into a conversion with him about little things. But it feels easy, it feels like meeting an old friend. Someone where she can just pick up where they left off, even if they haven’t seen each other for a long time. Dean was her friend, she can’t deny that, and she guesses the reason why she feels at ease is that her heart can’t forget it either.

“I can do that, too,” Dean suggests without even thinking twice.

“Dean, she’s none of your concern, we’re fine without you.” Her words might be too harsh but he needs a reminder that not everything revolves around him.

“Great.” He mumbles as Cubbie comes back from the bathroom. The poor guy stands there and is a little irritated by Dean’s presence.

“You ready to leave?” Cubbie asks, straight up ignoring Dean’s presence and she has to give him that. It takes balls. Dean’s not someone who can be ignored. He’s tall and broad and yeah, awfully good looking.

She stands up, nodding her head. Even if she has no intention of going anywhere with Cubbie, she also knows that she can’t stay here with Dean.

When she walks away, Dean holds her back by her wrist. The touch of him is almost too much to bear and she stills, has to close her eyes as she tries to breathe evenly.

“You’re leaving with him? Seriously?”

Opening her eyes to look at the source of the voice, she can clearly see the irritation on Dean’s face.

Pulling her hand from his hold, she brings it close to her chest, fearing that she’d reach out if she let her heart decide over her mind, “It’s none of your business, Dean. You had your chance but you blew it. I’m trying to move on.”

Dean stands up too and he’s close. The warmth radiates from him. Her body betrays her a little, sways a little closer to him. Cubbie is a couple of steps ahead but he stalls and looks back, waiting for her to follow him out. She wants to, she really does, it’s just so hard to move when the magnetic pull of Dean wraps itself around her.

“Now, say it again a little more convincingly. Make me believe it.” Dean demands with a gruff voice while he crosses his arms over his chest, his palms nearly disappearing into his armpits, as if he too, has to resist reaching out to touch her again when it’s not what she wants.

How is it possible that he still can read her like a book? It’s not fucking fair.

She narrows her eyes, staring him down. “You’re an ass, Dean.” She hisses and pushes out of the door, past Cubbie. When she’s out, she flags down a cab and gets in. Only when the driver rounds the street of the first block does she realize that she left Cubbie at the bar. Great. Now the act with her leaving the bar with some date is even less convincing to Dean.

God, she’s a failure.

“You know he still cares deeply about you, right?” Donna flops down on Y/N’s worn out couch with a bottle of beer in hand and Y/N walks over to join her friend with her glass of red wine.

The incident at the bar in which Dean had held a metaphorical pissing competition against an oblivious Cubbie was four days ago. Almost a distant memory. She hasn’t heard from the magician, but also it’s not really surprising since they didn’t even exchange their numbers and Donna has not mentioned him again. At least there’s that.

She frowns for a moment, “Cubbie? He barely knows me.”

Her friend rolls her eyes to the back and takes a pull at the bottle, “Dean, dummy!”

“Yeah, well, he has a hell of a way of showing it.” She grumbles, burying her face into her goblet and tips it back to take a big gulp.

Donna admitted after the incident that she watched them with amusement. Poor Cubbie was standing there lost and sulked away on his own. Apparently, Dean grinned brightly, and god, just the image of him being so joyful and cocky about her misery makes her want to smack him across the face. But for that, she would have to see him again, which she won’t. Nope. Not going there. She can’t move on when he keeps popping up.

“You don’t see it, do you?” Donna tilts her head that’s resting on the back of the old faded sofa, cocking her eyebrow as she asks.

“See what?” Y/N eyebrows match her friend’s.

“Jesus Christ, Y/N!” Donna huffs out, followed by a giggle. Okay, the woman should definitely not drink any more beer, also since tomorrow is Monday and she has to work. Y/N for her part, is still struggling with finding a job that would keep her head above water. She’s debating on taking two lesser paid jobs but then again, there would be no time left to spend with Liv and since she’s making Liv her priority, she keeps on searching. The blonde lays her hand on Y/N’s thigh, squeezes it, “He’s so fucking in love.”

With knitted eyebrows, she glares at her friend. Dean? In love? Has that been obvious? She shakes her head, “That’s not what he told me,”

Her friend sits up straight and turns to her before taking a big swig of her beer and slams it onto the coffee table. Y/N gets irritated, shushes her friend with a nudge of her elbow. Liv is sleeping next door, and Donna usually knows that she has to be fucking quiet.

“Oops,” Donna says with a shrug, and they both freeze to listen if Liv has woken up because of the noise. When they don’t hear a sound, they both breathe out in relief. Yeah, there’s no chance Donna will get another beer from her tonight. The blonde grins at her. A grin that spells mischief, “Have you ever thought that Dean Winchester, a guy who’s never been in love might not know how it feels to be in love? Have you ever thought that he might be so fucking gone on you and tries to identify his feelings but he can’t because he doesn’t fucking knows what it is?”

God, Donna talks a mile a minute and Y/N’s brain is having trouble catching on and processing.

Her friend pauses to wriggle her eyebrows at her but otherwise, Donna doesn’t say anything because she waits until it settles.

Memories of the last day on the beach flashed in her mind. She recalls him asking her how she knows when you love someone and her answer was you just know.

Could it be that he was struggling then already? He probably was but she was too deep in her own mind that she didn’t really notice.

“No,” She answers.

“No, what?” Donna asks.

“No, I have never thought that he doesn’t know how it feels to be in love. But I mean, he’s loved his mother, right? He loves Sam to a certain extent. He’s a grown ass man. He should know how he fucking feels.”

“My god, your skull is thicker than I thought.” Donna rolls her eyes dramatically. “Loving a parent is not the same as loving a partner, duh! And with Sam. There’s the bro thing, I guess? They love each other but it’s just all caveman-esque grunting and a lot of back-slapping involved. It’s how I love you,”

“You love me while you grunt and slap my back?”

“Shut up!” Donna laughs, “Anyway, where was I...oh! Yes. Listen, Y/N, maybe you’ve been too harsh on him. I mean, yeah, of course, you have Liv to care about but don’t tell me that Liv was heartbroken when you brought her back to this place.”

She pulls her bottom lip between her teeth in thought. When she snaps out of it, she tips her wine glass back and empties it in one go.

Her friend watches her, pauses to let the things she said sink in. God, she doesn’t know why Donna’s only talking about Dean now. It’s been what? Almost two months. Where was Donna when she needed that kinda talk at the beginning when she left Dean? Donna was always here, her mind says, you just didn’t want to burden anyone and you thought that you could manage everything on your own.

“Fact is, Y/N. I’ve never seen him like this. He barely goes out, even if he’s invited to events. The gossip sites avoid him because he became a grump while picking up fights with photographers, and don’t even get me started on the last TV appearance where he only gave short, snappish answers, making the stupidly hot interviewer very uncomfortable. A couple of months ago, he would have charmed the woman and they probably would have fucked when the producer yelled cut.”

“How do you know they didn’t?” She asks, and she doesn’t even know why she asks because the thought of him hooking up and going back to being his old self does make her feel a little uncomfortable and admittedly, jealous.

“Honestly? Maybe because the interviewer told a tabloid that she refuses to interview Dean again because he’s a dick.”

“Well, he is a dick, she’s right.” She says drily, and she’s standing behind her opinion, it’s just now that Donna has said all those things that it makes her really wonder if she’s been too harsh to Dean. Maybe he just needed more time to figure out what he was feeling. But again, it’s too late now, isn’t it?

Ch. 27

Please share your thoughts with me, I’d love to hear your feedback.

#legally yours #dean winchester #dean winchester x reader #dean winchester x you #dean x reader #dean x you #dean winchester fic #dean winchester fan fic #dean winchester fan fiction #nathalie writes

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five-rivers · 3 years

Text

Medium Despair

For @sapphireswimming

Danny woke up gasping for air and fighting against his sheets. By the time he’d recognized his surroundings, he’d already rolled off his bed. He dragged in ragged, shuddering breaths. He could breathe. He could breathe. He wasn’t suffocating. He wasn’t at school, in his locker or otherwise. He could move he could stand. He did stand, skin prickling with the memory of electricity.

“Sydney?” he called, softly. “Is that you?” He could see a glowing form in the corner behind his dresser, and with that dream there weren’t a whole lot of other people it could have been, but it was polite to ask. At least in Danny’s opinion.

The ghost slid out, slowly, flickering. “Sorry, Danny,” he said, and he really did sound remorseful.

Danny might believe it more if it wasn’t 2:20 in the morning on a school night, and this wasn’t the third time Sydney had done this. Still, Sydney was something like a friend.

“What is it, Sydney?” he asked. “Did something happen at the school?” Casper High was one of the most haunted buildings in Amity Park, which honestly didn’t make sense.

Danny had done his research. The school was old, sure, but Sydney was the only person who had ever actually died there. That didn’t stop the Lunch Lady, Technus, and a whole host of others from hanging around the place, although most of those others were pretty weak. Hardly strong enough to even interact with Danny or other ghosts.

Sydney shrugged.

“Then what’s wrong?”

Sydney looked down at the ground. The puddle of not-light he cast on the ground – visible only to only Danny and other ghosts – rippled and glimmered.

Danny frowned. “I have fun talking to you during the day, Syd, but I do have to sleep. I’m human, you know?”

“I know,” said Sydney.

“So why are you here?” asked Danny, briefly spreading his arms in exasperation and the dropping them to his sides again. He was still unsettled by the dream he’d just had.

Being close to ghosts while he was sleeping was just a recipe for nightmares. They weren’t always about their deaths, but more often than not…

Sydney’s death was a particularly unpleasant one. Danny did not expect to get back to sleep. Not tonight. Hence his annoyance.

“I need to…” started Sydney, before trailing off. “I need…”

“Sydney?”

“Warn you.”

“About what?”

“Not what they seem,” whispered the ghost. He looked away and phased out through the wall.

Danny’s frown deepened. Usually, Sydney was much clearer than that. Sometimes, talking to Sydney, Danny forgot he was talking to a ghost.

Danny sat down at the edge of the bed and tried to work a kink out of his neck. He caught himself scratching at his skin as if he wanted to pull it off a minute later.

It was always like this since the accident. Especially after he had a dying dream.

Forcibly, he stopped himself. His skin was fine. There was no electricity flickering under his skin. He was alive. He was safe. His body was his body. His body.

(He was not floating above it, light as air, staring at its waxy pallor, at the glassy, empty eyes.)

He was alive, alive, alive.

Awake.

Not dead.

Slowly, he laid back down on the bed. He was alive, awake. A medium, yes, associated with more ghosts than could possibly be healthy, either physically or mentally, yes, but alive. Definitely, clearly, alive.

He didn’t like it when ghosts woke him up. Especially when they came with ominous warnings about the future.

Maybe Sydney would let Danny track him down tomorrow, but Danny doubted it.

“Something’s off,” said Danny, staring up at the tall front of the school.

“Yeah,” agreed Sam, “it’s Spirit Week. When the teachers participate in medieval rituals to brainwash us into supporting the troglodytes that ‘represent’ our school in sports.”

“I was going to argue,” said Tucker, “but that is about what it’s for, isn’t it?”

“Yeah,” said Danny, “I don’t think it’s that. Probably. Unless there’s a ghost that appreciate the pun?”

“You appreciate puns.”

“I’m not a ghost,” said Danny, frowning at Sam.

“That’s true.”

Danny sighed. “I just have a bad feeling about this. I know you can’t see like I can, but… be careful. If you do see anything weird, let me know.”

“Hey, Danny!”

“Oh, I changed my mind. Kill me now, I want to be a ghost.”

Jazz ran up and threw an arm around Danny’s shoulders. “You left so early!” she said. “Are you excited about Spirit Week, too?”

“No,” said Danny.

Jazz paused, looked at Danny more closely. “You look terrible,” she said. “Maybe you should talk to the counselor?”

“Pass,” said Danny.

“You know, you’ll have to talk to me in more than monosyllables at some point.”

“Do I?”

Danny rolled his eyes.

“Anyway, I’ve got to go to talk to Mr. Lancer about my speech! Have a great Spirit Week, guys!”

She ran off.

“I will never understand her,” declared Sam. “But I think she does have a point about the counselor. Maybe they’d be able to help with the nightmares? At least the non-ghost-caused ones.”

“All my nightmares are caused by ghosts.”

“Eh,” said Tucker, giving a half-shrug.

“Will it make you feel better if I agree to go?”

“Yes,” said both Sam and Tucker.

“Ugh. Fine,” said Danny.

Danny walked though the deserted hallway, pass in hand, study hall abandoned behind him as he looked for the counselor’s office. He’d never been there before, but it should be around here somewhere, right?

A cold hand settled on his shoulder.

“You must be Danny Fenton! Your sister told me all about you.”

Danny turned to look up at a tall woman. She was dressed a lot more flamboyantly than Danny would have expected.

“Yeah? That’s me. Who are you?”

“I’m Penelope Spectra. Your counselor! Why don’t you tell me what’s wrong with you?”

“Uh,” said Danny. There was something unpleasantly an unexpectedly pejorative and assumptive about that statement. Weren’t counselors supposed to tell you that there wasn’t anything wrong with you? That your feelings were valid.

He shrugged. He couldn’t put his feelings into words.

(Couldn’t open his mouth for fear of cold leaking out past his teeth, his soul exhaled with his breath.)

(Why did he feel this way?)

“Why don’t you step into my office?”

The room was… not what he expected.

“Sorry about the dust,” said Spectra. “I’m just moving in. They upgraded me.” She smiled, showing all her teeth. “So… like I said, your sister told me a lot about you, and I have a few things I’d like to try for your laz—Excuse me. Your difficulty with staying focused. It happens sometimes with traumatic brain injuries, that a promising young mind can be—Well. In any case. I am here to support you and find a way for you to succeed. What’s troubling you?”

Danny’s ginger perch on the dusty chair turned into a frustrated slump. “Nothing,” he said. He pushed himself back up. “I should go—”

“Oh, just humor me,” said Spectra. “There has to be some reason you came. Anxiety? Stress? Social pressures?”

Danny shook his head and stood up.

“Nightmares?”

He sat back down.

Danny leaned over the table to whisper to Tucker during English, when they were supposed to be reviewing vocabulary words.

“Have either of you seen the counselor before?” asked Danny, after what was easily the worst week of his life. He was starting to have suspicions, but…

“Yeah,” said Tucker. “When you were in the hospital. He was pretty cool.”

“He?” asked Danny. “He?”

“Yeah?”

“I’ve been seeing a ghost for the past week.”

“Ghost therapist? Well, if it’s working…”

“It isn’t. She’s from hell. I swear. A literal demon from hell.”

“Exorcism?”

“Exorcism.”

Jazz didn’t often come to school after hours, but she’d left several important things and she was the student body activity director, voted for and everything.

Important thing #1, her speech, which she had to practice.

Important thing #2, the—what was that?

Already spooked by the late-night atmosphere, she ducked into a doorway and peeked at the place she’d seen movement. There weren’t many classes held down that hallway, and she didn’t come down this way often, so maybe she was just—

No. That was her little brother and his friends conducting some kind of satanic ritual over a wastepaper basket.

Their parents were terrible influences. She was going to give them a stern talking to when—what what what what WHAT—

What had she just seen?

She looked back around the corner to see the… whatever it was dissolve in smoke and fire and shadows. Then Danny and his friends started cleaning up as if this was a perfectly normal Thursday night.

Jazz… Jazz was going to process this. Later.

She turned around and walked straight back out to her car. There was, after all, nothing that important.

“So,” said Danny, leaning towards Sam on the bleachers as he watched his sister give her speech. “Looks like we saved Spirit Week.”

“Never say that to me again,” said Sam.

“But we did. Look at all this spirit-filled people.”

“You were literally the only victim.”

“But Sam~”

“It does seem less grim, though, doesn’t it?” asked Tucker, contemplatively. “You are no longer the goth bird of happiness.”

“Maybe a bit,” allowed Sam. “I think that’s just because everyone’s glad this week is over, though. No offense, Danny.”

“None taken. I’m glad it’s over, too.”

#danny phantom #phic phight #phic phight 2021

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mah-gah-lee · 3 years

Text

What a weird family reunion Reggie x Reader (xLuke)

gif originally posted by @jatpsource

Word Count: 3515 words

Summary: You’re Reggie’s little sister. You were 3 when he died. You’re now a ghost for a decade. One night, you recognize your brother and jumped into him to an unexpected family reunion. How is it going to happen? Will Reggie believe you? In a mysterious way, that’s Luke who help you to convinced Reggie.

Warnings: cuss (language), mention of death, mention of divorce, mention of drugs

A/N: This is my first fic about jatp characters. Hope you’ll enjoy! keep in mind that french is my first language, so i’m so sorry if there’s some mistakes in my fic

disclaimer: It takes place during episodes 6 and 7. I do not take into account the possibility of a Juke. The chemistry while they sing is there but no romantic feelings.

Tagged: @asdfghjkl-fanfics @standingtalllove

_______

Losing a child is the worst thing a parent could live, losing two is unimaginable. It’s seems being 17 years old was a new malediction in Peters family.

You were 3 when your older brother, Reginald, died in a weird hot dog accident. At that point, your parents were literally a fight away from a divorce but never did it because of you. You were too young to be in a divided family, according to them. But Reggie's death separated them for good. Yet they really tried to support each other, to overcome that and give you all the attention you needed. But your mother overprotected you and made you live in the shadow of your late brother. Your dad couldn't stand it. And when they finally divorce, moving out from reggie’s childhood house, you went to live with your dad.

Even though you were too young to form a strong bond with your brother, in a way you missed him. Your mother’s house was full of pictures of him, some of his clothes were still in a room, dedicated to him. When you visited your mother, you didn’t understand why you always found yourself in this room. You were drawn like a magnet to the comforting room. Reggie’s presence in this new house brought you such a sense of security that your mother had repeatedly found you asleep on a pile of your brother’s T-shirts.

And then you died in 2009. Kanye West had interrupted Taylor Swift's speech at the VMAs, Miley Cyrus hadn't gone crazy yet and One Direction didn't exist yet. What an era! You didn't know why the great light didn't come looking for you but you were there, as a ghost in 2009. And the time has passed ... You've had your best concerts, the best parties. A forever teenager who couldn't eat, drink or sleep.

And then 2020 came.

…

You were tired of always doing the same thing for over a decade, but you couldn't help but go to every open scene that came up in your beautiful city. It was as if an inexplicable force was pushing you to go there.

This evening was no exception to the rule and you were in a very hip little bar in the city center. You wore one of those sleeveless, gray crop tops with high waisted pants, your leather jacket draped over your shoulders. Your eyes were directly drawn to a group of girls in colorful costumes. You couldn't help but roll your eyes. It's been 10 years since you died and it seemed to you that these girls looked like the same plagues that ruined the lives of so many teenagers in your time. You put on an expression of disgust when they all took the stage, but when the music started you couldn't help but admit it was pretty catchy. However, you didn't expect a ghost to appear in the middle of the stage, improvising a choreography. Was that part of the show?

But looking at the audience's non-reaction, you knew it wasn't. The ghost disappeared for the first time, and your gaze sought directly the distinctive light source of another apparition in the room. Your gaze lingered on a small group of three boys - the blond boy included - and two girls. You have wrinkled your eyes to better distinguish the teenagers, and your face expressed confusion.

“Reggie? “

You wanted to go see him so badly. You were pretty sure it was your brother but it all came too fast. The moment you decided to walk towards them, the organizer announced a new band.

“Okay, looks like we're close the night out with one more group…Julie and the fat ones.”

What was that for a name? Your attention had been diverted and when you looked back at the group, the boys had disappeared as one of the young girls took the stage. Your heart was beating so fast. You couldn't go wrong; you had seen so many pictures at your mother's house that it was impossible that this boy was not your brother. But you missed your chance…

Julie started to sing and your eyes were captivated, as much as your ears were. This kid was so talented! When she sang a rather high note, the tension in the room charged into electricity. The next second, the young singer was joined by the group of boys you had seen in her company. Appearing distinctly as the ghosts did. On drums there was the blond boy you had seen dancing a few moments earlier, on the electric guitar, a boy with tousled brown hair who seemed slightly familiar to you ... and on bass, with a flannel shirt, there was your brother ... Reggie was there, identical to the photos you had admired so much.

The bar was on fire as Julie and The Phantoms performed. What a sick name for a group made up of two-thirds of ghosts! The song was so catchy that your heart beat to the sound of the music. But your eyes did not leave your brother, you were unable to move, frozen in place. What should you do ? Will you introduce yourself after the performance? And, what would you say? "Hey hi Reggie, I'm your sister, I died ten years ago and you twenty-five years ago. Unbelievable, right?! Nice to see you again" And once again, before you knew it, the song was over and the boys were gone again, leaving Julie alone on stage in the bewilderment of the many people in the facility.

“for God's sake, where are they?”

You didn't want to miss it anymore. Even though the whole situation was strange, you wanted to see your brother again.

Your eyes flew over the room before seeing the scene play out before your eyes. Julie seemed petrified in front of a man. The boys watched in amazement and as Julie left with what appeared to be her father, you rushed over to the group of three musicians before they disappeared again.

“omg please don't poof out again.” You said almost out of breath

The boys looked at you like you were crazy before the guitarist jumped off the bar counter, bursting with energy.

"Wait, you can see us?"

“as much as when mister "all eyes on me" made his performance”, you were pointing your head at the blond boy.

The group looked at each other in puzzlement and Reggie finally spoke, his blue eyes full of mischief.

“So…hi there cutie, how can we help you?”

Your face expressed disgust and you stuck your tongue out mimicking vomiting.

Luke gave Alex an amused smile, seeing Reggie flirting and your spontaneous reaction. The bassist couldn't help but charm the pretty ladies.

“Wow Reggie, that's gross ... you're my brother.”

Reggie burst out laughing at your response, not noticing that you called him by his first name when he hadn't even introduced himself to you yet.

“Yeah right, for sure. You just could tell me you weren’t interested. But I’m charming...”

It was the first time he had been given such an excuse but you looked so serious that he stopped dead in his tracks as Luke and Alex watched you. They always knew Reggie had a sister. But the scene unfolding before their eyes seemed impossible. (Y / N) was so young when they died and now must have been around 28, something like that. But the girl in front of them was a teenager, their age. How was this possible?

You didn't want to drop the information like that. It was worse than anything you could have imagined. But it had escaped you. Now he didn't take you seriously. Your eyes were wet with tears. It was scary to find you in front of your brother for the first time as a ghost teenager. Luke looked panicked when he noticed your eyes, squeezing Reggie's shoulder as you seemed to beg.

“Can I ... can I meet you in a quieter time please, Reginald?”

Your brother's eyes widened as Luke's hug on his shoulder tightened a bit. The eagerness and desperation in your voice had made both boys react, Alex was just looking at all of you like all of this wasn't real. The use of Reggie's name made him tense, surprised. Few called him Reginald. In fact, only his family, and the boys when they wanted to annoy him, called him that way. And although his nickname is obvious enough to deduce his

full first name, he deeply felt that you weren't just anyone.

He seemed a little panicked and looked around for his friends to support him. As if the solution would fall by itself just by the presence of Luke and Alex.

“Okay, but I want Luke and Alex’s there! What about tomorrow? I’ll give you the address!”

Wow, that was quick.

“hm, yeah, yeah sure, as you want”

You nodded and Reggie silently slipped a note to the drummer. Alex took a pen, write something on a paper towel and gave it to you. You weren’t surprise, you also can make some tricks. And you just had the time to thanks them before they poofted again.

…

The next day, you landed in front of Julie's garage. Lucky she's at school because you shouldn't be explaining your presence, so she managed to see you the way she saw boys.

Before entering, you peeked out the window and frowned. There seemed to be only Luke so far. He was leaning over the piano, his head in a notebook. Your body went through part of the garage door and you cleared your throat.

“hmm, hi ... i came to see Reggie ..”

Luke instantly raised his head and you caught his attention.

“oh uh, hi! He should be here soon, come in.….”

Silence felt as Luke motioned for you to sit on the couch. It was a rather pleasant studio; the plants gave a warm atmosphere to the room and the music set sent you good vibes.

"Does your girlfriend mind that I'm here? I mean, that seems to be your HQ"

"girlfriend?"

"The girl you sing with" I simply said.

"Julie? Um, yeah, she's not my girlfriend. She-sh-she’s great and we have this powerful connection but…not, not in a romantic way. Music tied us. Music and friendship "

Luke chuckled lightly as he scratched his head. You were surprised they weren't dating. Yesterday the tension was intense. He seemed authentic when he had continued his momentum. You let out a smile amused by so much overflow.

“It's okay, I don't need to know your full relationship statute or your social security number.”

The guitarist gave you a frank smile, his eyes twinkling with amusement. For a ghost, his gaze was really alive.

“ I’m Luke, by the way”

"Y / N… Re .."

"Reggie's little sister… I-I remember you a little."

"You look familiar to me. Maybe I saw you in a few pictures with Reggie."

Silence fell and you started to feel anxious. Maybe it was a bad idea? You had grown up since Reggie died ... were you still his little sister after all? Luke seemed to notice your dismay and put a comforting hand on your knee.

“hey, is something bothering you?”

“What if he doesn't believe me ... if he definitely thinks I'm not his sister.”

“Let's be honest, it's a little hard to believe. The last time I saw you, you were three years old.”

It was as if the memories flooded into your mind and let you carried away in your words.

“Yeah, you gave me this teddy bear with a guitar and told Reggie you wanted to be my favorite.”

Luke chuckled slightly before staring at you, speechless. He seemed dazed. This anecdote dates back to twenty-five years anyway. He himself had a hard time remembering it until you said it a few seconds earlier.

“what was the smell of the stuffed animal?” he asked, confused about that funny fact

“sorry, what?”

“the plush, what did it smell like?”

“hot waffle, why?”

“okay ... maybe you are his sister ... tell me more about what you remember”

You looked at him with a puzzled expression. Everything had been so natural before he stopped in all the movements. And now, it was hard to think about for the memories you had of Reggie on demand. The teddy bear given by Luke story had slipped out of your mind without you realizing it. As your brain seemed to boil, the fog of your thoughts cleared.

“can I use your guitar?”

“hell no ... why?” Luke exclaimed with far too much anticipation

“I have this lullaby stuck inside of my head ... I think Reggie sang it to me when I was a child”

Your pleading and desperate gaze fell on Luke who categorically refused to let you take his guitar. He ends up grabbing his six acoustic strings, terminated. There was something about you that made him weak.

“Maybe you can teach me but ... my guitar is my guitar, nobody touches it.”

You nodded and the lead singer moved closer to you. You were stunned by its smell, like a distant memory. Luke had definitely been a part of your life before he died, you were sure of that. You leaned over her shoulder, humming the lullaby that was left in your head. It didn't take long for him to find the right chords. Luke continued several times before you stopped singing, looking at him intently.

“that's exactly it ... this lullaby”

You both looked at each other, an indecipherable expression in your eyes. You both jumped at the sound of the garage door. Reggie appeared with Alex.

"Ready to compose hellish songs! oh did I interrupt something?”

"No, no I was there to see you. I guess you have a lot of questions."

"hell yeah, can we start from the beginning?"

You smiled to approve his request. The boys settled down on the sofa, while you sat down on one of the single armchairs. And the flow of questions began

“When are you born?”

“(your birthday date) 1992” you simply answered.

“What’s your name?”

(y/n) (y/m/n) Peters

It’s seemed to convinced a little Reggie but doubt was all over his face. It was information you could easily get on the internet nowadays.

“What’s my favorite food?”

“Pizza, mom said your favorite was the extra cheese with pepperoni”

“And what was my favorite toy?”

“I freaking don’t know, how can I suppose to known that?”

“ah ah!” he pointed the finger at you, as if that answer was proof that you were lying. It broke your heart but you didn't show it.

Instead, you rolled your eyes and Reggie kept going to ask you some question. Of course, you would have liked to have answered his questions correctly. Your mother told you some anecdotes about him but not to the point of knowing all the details.

“What’s the most terrible thing I said to my mom?”

“Omg I don’t fucking know! I was 3 when you’re died, asshole!”

Luke smiled when you exploded. Reggie was Reggie, as weird as possible. Now you were angry and desperate. Your brother didn’t believe you and he kept dragging you into this miserable feeling that you were never going to get your brother back. You had spent your short life living with a faint memory of him. Your blankie was one of his t-shirts, his voice reasoned in your head when you couldn’t sleep.

But then, in front of him, you were a stranger to him. Your heart was bruised from not being able to hug him and to finally meet this brother who had left far too soon.

“Okay, okay… So, how can you proof me you’re really my sister?! “

In the room’s corner, Luke looked at you, you looked desperate, about to cry again. He grabbed his guitar and cleared his throat. Reggie turned to him as the guitarist still had his eyes on you, a heartwarming smile hanging across his face. You had managed to convince him in a few minutes. He felt connected to you and the things you told him were disturbing. You could only be Reggie's sister; it was impossible otherwise.

"Hey…What about the song you told me earlier." he said with a soft and comfort voice

Your eyes caught his gaze, grateful for the initiative. You nodded and Luke started playing the few notes you had taught him a few minutes earlier. It was so different from all the songs the brunette could play before. It was a lullaby, such easy children's music with just a few notes. Of course, the band wasn’t supposed to play when Julie wasn’t in the room but, Luke had thought it was the best thing to do to encourage you to keep going. He didn’t know why, but he wanted Reggie to believe you. Luke believed you, hard as nails. There only had to look at your eyes to understand this reality, and Luke had noticed that. You had the same blue eyes as your brother. How could Reggie still doubt that? You started to sing

You're so sleepy

Very much sleepy

You want to go to the fairyland

You close your eyes

And jump into your dream.

When you'll wake up

I’ll still be on your team.

The instant Reggie heard the first notes, he knew. But hearing you sing the lullaby he had invented for you when you didn't want to sleep as a child, was a magical moment. You were his baby sister. He gave you that sad little puppy face, so overwhelmed. Reggie opened his arms and you jumped into a hug, so glad he finally accepted the fact that you were his sister.

You felt oddly safe again, like taking a nap in Reggie's pile of old t-shirts. You were so happy to find your brother and to be able to live your non-life by his side. Nothing would be as boring as it used to be. Reggie pushed you away with a concerned look

"but wait ... how did you die?"

"Yeah ... I don't really know ... I was at a really, really good rock concert and I bought this drink ... and I think I got drugged up there and ... I guess I'm dead? tadaa " you tried to tell him in a light tone.

He had just learned that he had a little sister. He didn't have to know that she was sneaking out at rock concerts and drinking alcohol before she was old enough. Right? Alex looked at Luke and Reggie with his half amused half confused smile. As for Luke, he fidgeted from foot to foot at the discovery. Y / N was as much rock and roll as they all were. Rebellion had to be his middle name

You loosened Reggie's embrace and lowered your head, pursing your lips so as not to show your embarrassment. He asked if you wanted snacks and you nodded. There was a slight silence. You didn't notice the urgent look Luke gave Alex but the next moment the blond jumped up to accompany the bassist, leaving you alone in the garage with the lead singer.

The silences were a little longer until Luke cautiously approached you. You could feel the awkwardness from miles away.

“ Sooo, you made this.”

“ yeah ...” you answered in a shy voice

It was the moment you had to thank him but your words seemed frozen. You mustered all the courage to plant your gaze in Luke's eyes.

“Thank you ... for helping me earlier.”

“oh it was nothing”.

“I ... yes, yes it was. You can't imagine how important seeing Reggie again is to me. Thanks for ... for helping me open his eyes.”

A slight smile caught his lips and he reached for your cheek before stopping his gesture. Instead of stroking your skin, he simply put a section of your hair back behind your ear.

“I would do anything for my best friends.”

And Reggie was definitely one of Luke’s best friend. You hardly swallowed, your stomach contorting under the effect that the guitarist made you. Time had seemed to fly at an incredible speed as the moment was interrupted by Reggie and Alex coming back to you.

“OMG LUKE DON’T FLIRT WITH MY SISTER, SHE’S 3!”

You cleared your throat and stepped aside to pull yourself away from Luke as far as possible. Your gaze fell on your brother and you raised an eyebrow at the last remark. 3 years old, really? You were 3 years old twenty-five years ago ... now you were eternally a teenager

“I’m seventeen.”

“Listen, i'm your big brother, you’re three, end of discussion.”

Your face wanted to laugh and you pursed your lips to keep from succumbing. But your eyes… Your eyes met Luke's in a complicity that slowly settled. Could you fall in love with your big brother's best friend? Definitely yes...

#jatp #jatp cast #jatp cast x reader #jatp imagines #jatp fic #julie molina #luke patterson #alex mercer #reggie peters #reggie x reader #reggie peters x reader #luke patterson x reader #charlie gillespie #jeremy shada #writing #owen patrick joyner #madison reyes

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verai-marcel · 3 years

Text

Forever and Always (RDR2 Fanfic, Arthur x F!Reader)

Summary: You reminisce about your life and have a sweet moment with your family.

Author’s Notes: I was listening to a podcast about wedding dress design and got inspired.

Tags: pure fluff, Arthur x F!Reader

Word Count: 1644

AO3 Link is right here, darlin’.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

Twenty-five years.

A quarter of a century.

Funny how time flies, and all of a sudden you're nearly fifty years old. Looking back, you can see the crazy turn of events in your life like some kind of movie, detached and yet feeling every single emotion as if you were there in that moment.

***

Fresh out of college, you remembered the night you found your partner sleeping with your roommate. The white hot rage and cold grip of disbelief sent you fleeing into the rain, into the streets, into a bar in the middle of the night. As you meandered between sadness and anger, a bartender had given you a cold glass of orange juice, soda water, and a bit of ice, with a shot of grenadine.

"Here ya go, sweetheart. On the house."

You had looked up and drowned in eyes the color of volcanic springs, finding the same warmth and comfort in his kind gaze. Taking a cautious sip of the drink, you found it to be the perfect drink, not too sweet, and took your time savoring it.

"What brings you here tonight?" he had asked.

After a moment of silence, he held up his hand. "You don't need to tell me if you don't want to."

He leaned in close. "But I'm happy to listen, whenever yer ready."

His sweet smile undid you, and you poured out your heart. He seemed to nod along with your story, as a stranger would, but there was a steadily growing fire in his eyes. After a while, after a few interruptions from other customers ordering drinks, you had finished venting, nursing the last of your drink and debating what your next move should be.

"Alright folks, last call!" the bartender shouted. A few people came up and got one last drink before he started to clean up.

"Well, thank you for listening to me," you said, dropping a tip on the bar. "I really appreciate it."

"I didn't catch yer name."

You told him.

He smiled. "I'm Arthur. Could… could ya wait a bit? I'll walk you home."

You slumped. "I don't want to go home."

Arthur raised an eyebrow at you. "Where were you goin' to go, then?"

You shrugged. "Walk around until sunrise, I guess. Not feeling sleepy."

He tilted his head as he observed you. After a few moments, he shook his head. "If you don't mind, you can come sleep on my couch. You need some rest, darlin'."

"Um…" As sweet as he was, you had just met him.

Arthur pulled out a pen and scribbled something on the back of a bar coaster before giving it to you. "Here's my address. You send it to someone you trust, so they know where you are."

Touched by his offer and his understanding of your hesitation, you agreed. You texted his address to your best friend who lived a city away and told her that you were staying with a new friend and that you'd call her in the morning and tell her everything.

Then you waited until Arthur was done with his shift and followed him home.

***

That was years ago. He had helped you deal with the whole situation with your ex-significant other and ex-roommate. He stood outside as backup while you confronted the two of them and told them that you were leaving. Then you found yourself temporarily moving in with Arthur, bunking on his sleeper sofa for a couple of weeks while you searched for another place to live.

And then you slept in his bed. And your temporary move became permanent.

Life continued. You slept together, in the adult sense of the term. You got pregnant. You dated. You gave birth. He proposed. You got married. He finished college. You became the breadwinner while he worked part time and took care of your daughter.

Nothing went in the 'normal' order of things, but what was normal, anyway?

Looking at the photos of your wonderful daughter when she was a small child, you smiled as you heard the doorbell ring.

"Hey Mom!"

"Hi Avery!" You greeted her with a warm hug. She was twenty-three now, working hard during her first year out of college. You got to see her a couple times a month, and each visit made you smile, no matter how grumpy she might be.

Today the two of you were just hanging out, having tea and going through some of the old boxes in the attic, when she pulled out an old scrapbook.

"Wow, didn't know you did scrapbooking."

"I didn't, I only made one for my wedding."

Together the two of you looked through your silly notes and hand picked photos, telling her the story behind each one, and who each person was.

"Do you still have your wedding dress?" she asked after seeing the photos of you and Arthur, dressed up in a tuxedo that barely fit his broad shoulders.

"I do, somewhere."

After some time searching, you found it, brushed it off, and held it up to your body. "I don't think it'll fit, I've gotten a bit wider since I wore it."

"C'mon Mom, just try it!"

Smiling, the two of you went to your bedroom and you managed to shove yourself mostly into the dress. Except for the shoulders.

"I've gotten more buff," you joked as you pulled the dress off yourself. "You try it."

Avery took the dress, stared at it for a moment, and with your help, pulled it on. It looked like it fit, until she moved her arms.

The sound of a seam ripping made you both pause.

"Oh my God, I'm so sorry–"

You patted her shoulder. "It's fine, sweetie. It's just a dress, it can be fixed. And you look beautiful in it."

Your daughter grinned, and you could see Arthur's eyes and smile on her face.

After she spun around a few times, she took it off and handed it back to you. Out of curiosity, you checked which seams had torn.

"It might fit you now," Avery joked.

"Sure, why not?"

You pulled it back on, and sure enough, the seams that had torn were the very ones stopping you from fitting your thicker arms through. You turned around and looked in the mirror. Twirling around a bit, you suddenly felt young again, remembering the first time you had tried this dress. Your two closest friends had been by your side, encouraging you to buy the dress because you were so pleased with it.

And you remembered the last time you had worn this dress, walking down the aisle with Arthur, hand in hand, the two of you grinning at each other as if there was nothing else in the world, just the two of you, happily in love.

"Let's take some photos outside!" Avery suggested, her eyes lighting up with enthusiasm.

Smiling at your daughter, you walked through your house and out to the small backyard that Arthur lovingly cared for, with a small waterfall and herb garden.

He was there, kneeling in the dirt, planting some new basil plants. He turned around at the sound of the back door opening.

"What're you two doin'–"

Arthur's words stopped abruptly as his jaw dropped. He hadn't seen you in that dress since the wedding, and for him, time stopped and all he saw was his beautiful lady, dressed in white, smiling like a goddess.

He quickly washed his hands with the garden hose, wiped them on his jeans, and came towards you.

"Beautiful, just like an angel," he said in awe.

You went to him, holding your hands out to him. He took them and brought them close to his heart before lifting your hands to his lips and kissing your fingers oh so so tenderly.

"Amazin', I feel the same as I did on our weddin' day, seein' you like this."

"I'm a little wider now…"

"That don't matter none," he said, leaning closer to you. His forehead touched yours and he looked into your eyes. "Yer always lovely."

"Awww!"

Avery's exclamation brought the two of you back to reality. She had her phone out and had been taking photos of the two of you, a giant grin on her face.

"I'll send these to you later, after I touch them up a bit," she said. "I, uh, got an errand to run. Bye Dad, bye Mom, I'll catch you later!"

She left, giving you a conspiratorial wink. You looked back at Arthur to find that his eyes hadn't left you for a single moment.

He was in his late fifties now, streaks of grey in his hair, giving him a sophisticated appearance. He smiled much more these days, finding happiness in tending his small garden and being outside in the sunlight. He was still strong, still broad shouldered, but he had filled out a little from your delicious home cooked meals.

And he still looked at you like you were his entire world.

"Should we go inside?" you asked with a mischievous smirk.

"I got mud on me," he said, although he didn't resist when you pulled him into the house.

"I'll get you all clean," you said. "Then we can get dirty."

"Darlin'," he said as if he was chastising you, yet he was chuckling softly as he let you lead the way.

***

That night, looking at the photos Avery had emailed, you realized how the two of you appeared, so deep in love. You both looked younger in her photos, and you wondered if it was because of the photo editing.

Showing Arthur, he just smiled and kissed your cheek, his whiskers scraping your skin lightly as he nuzzled you.

"See? Told you my feelin's fer you would never change." He pulled you into his arms and held you close.

"You'll always be my shinin' star."

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

End Notes: I started with a small idea and it kinda got longer. Oops.

#arthur morgan #rdr2 #RDR2 fanfic #arthur x fem!reader #Writing #Fanfic #Fluff

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whimsicallyenchantedrose · 3 years

Text

Dead Man’s Cell Phone--Chapter 2

Summary: When Emma Swan starts getting phone calls and texts from an unfamiliar number, she decides to check it out–only to discover the number belongs to a Killian Jones, who was killed in a robbery gone wrong six months ago. With some help from a medium, Merlin Emrys, Emma hopes to find out why a dead guy is contacting her–and why she feels such a strong pull to someone she has never met before.

Rating: K+

Tagging a few people who may be interested (Let me know if you want to be added or taken off the list): @sailormew4 @annaamell @flslp87 @emmateo26 @bethacaciakay @ultraluckycatnd @effulgent-mind @ilovemesomekillianjones@kat2609 @brooke-to-broch @missgymgirl @galadriel26 @the-lady-of-misthaven @charmingturkeysandwich @jennjenn615 @laschatzi @kimmy46 @snowbellewells @iamanneenigma @daxx04 @nickillian @a-rose-for-a-savior@in-spirational @gillie @britishguyslover @ginnyjinxedandhanshotritafirst@kmomof4 @linda8084 @golfgirld @captain-swan-coffee @searchingwardrobes @hollyethecurious @laughswaytoomuch@allyourdarlingswans @winterbaby89 @facesiousbutton82 @cssns @therooksshiningknight, @lfh1226-linda @tiganasummertree @eastwesthomeisbest @dreamingdreamsalways @xsajx @justren21 @laughterandbooks @cocohook38 @therealstartraveller776

Welcome to my entry for the Captain Swan Supernatural Summer! A big thank you to @cssns, the ladies on the Discord! Thank you also to @eastwesthomeisbest, my artist and my beta @veryverynotgood!

Other Chapters: Prologue 1 3 4 Epilogue

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

"So after the phone calls, the text messages started coming," Emma said, settling into her best friend's plush sofa.

"Texts?" Mary Margaret asked curiously before taking a sip of her tea. "What kind of texts?"

It felt like Emma had known Mary Margaret forever. Both girls were placed in the system at young ages-Emma, because her parents abandoned her on the side of a road as an infant, and Mary Margaret, because her parents both died of illness. They ended up in the same group home, and quickly became the best of friends. They were closer than sisters until the day Mary Margaret was adopted by Cora Mills, and then eventually, Emma was fostered by Ruth Nolan.

Even after being placed with other families, Emma and Mary Margaret kept in touch-letters, phone calls, even the occasional visit. On one such visit, Emma's foster brother, David, was home from college, and as soon as he and Mary Margaret met, it was love at first sight.

They were so in love it was honestly a bit nauseating.

When they got married fresh out of college, Emma couldn't be happier. She'd always considered Mary Margaret her sister in all the ways that counted, and now they truly were.

There was no doubt about it - Mary Margaret Nolan was the person Emma was closest to in the entire world, and so it was only natural that when the weird stuff with the cell phone started happening, Emma decided to discuss it with her.

"Weird ones," Emma answered, taking a sip of her own hot cocoa with cinnamon. "Stuff like Help! or You're the only one who can save me!. And then some of them were even stranger. Just...random letters and symbols, almost like someone was randomly pressing buttons on a keyboard."

"So what did you do?" Mary Margaret asked, sitting on the other side of the sofa and turning toward Emma.

Emma shrugged. "I tried answering at first. You know, you hear about people who are abducted and, like, stuck in a basement for years and stuff like that. I kept thinking, what if someone really needed help and I just...ignored them?"

"And what happened when you answered?" Mary Margaret asked.

"Nothing," Emma answered before taking another sip. "No answer, just another cryptic text several hours later. Finally, I decided I'd had enough. Either someone needed help, or someone was messing with me. I decided I'd call the number, decide whether I needed to help them or tell them to go f-" She stopped, glancing over at Mary Margaret's toddler playing with blocks nearby. "Well, go do something not at all child-friendly to themselves."

"Let me guess, your call didn't get through."

"Nope," Emma confirmed, "but it was even weirder than that. I dialed the number just after receiving a text, but it went directly to voicemail."

"But that's not possible!" Mary Margaret exclaimed.

"Right?" Emma said. "So I tried to ignore the whole thing. Maybe the phone was just...I don't know..glitching or something, although I don't know how a technological glitch could make phone calls and text someone. Anyway, for some reason, I just can't let go. Even though I don't know him, somehow I feel a...connection...to this Killian Jones. I just-I don't know what to do about it."

Mary Margaret was silent for a moment, taking several sips of her steaming beverage, before turning back to Emma with a cautious look in her eyes. "There is...there is another possibility, if you have an open mind."

"Just how open are we talking?"

"Pretty open," Mary Margaret said. "What if-and just hear me out, I know this is crazy-what if Killian Jones is contacting you from beyond the grave."

"What, like a ghost?"

Mary Margaret shrugged. "I mean, I know it sounds crazy, but why not? One of the other teachers I work with was talking about this medium. His name is Merlin Emrys. Supposedly he can contact the dead and see ghosts and stuff like that."

"A medium? Seriously?" Emma asked, crossing her arms and raising an eyebrow. "Mary Margaret, you know those people are frauds. It's all about researching their marks ahead of time and then cold reading them. They're only in it to bleed as much cash out of vulnerable people as possible."

"I know it sounds crazy," Mary Margaret conceded, "but what if it's not? I've thought about going to him myself. If I could just talk to my parents one more time-make sure they're okay, make sure they've moved on, or whatever happens after someone dies. Well, it would provide a lot of comfort."

Emma's heart turned over, and she took her friend's hand. She knew how much Mary Margaret missed her parents. It was different for Emma. She'd never known her parents, only knew they'd tossed her out like garbage. She wasn't sure she even wanted to find them.

"I know you miss them," Emma said.

"I do," Mary Margaret said, "but that's not the point. The point is...what do you have to lose? Maybe this Merlin is just a quack like you said, but maybe not. Maybe he could be the key to unravelling the whole mystery."

Emma was silent for a moment. It was crazy; she knew it was. A medium wasn't going to give her the answers she needed if all her bail bonds tricks had failed her, but what the hell?

"Fine. I'll go see Merlin," Emma caved.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Emma's eyebrows rose as she took in the small, ranch-style house Mary Margaret had directed her to. She was skeptical before seeing the place, but now-now red flags were going up everywhere.

There was a huge, gaudy sign out front that read "Merlin, the great and powerful. Wizard of the unknown and medium of the great beyond." The sign-indeed the entire front of the house-was decorated with all kinds of astrological signs and symbols.

Was this guy even for real?

Emma seriously considered turning around and getting back in her car, but she'd promised Mary Margaret she'd at least check this Merlin out and give him a chance, and Emma was a woman of her word. She took a deep breath and knocked on the door.

A moment later, an older man with longish, thinning gray hair and a rather unkempt gray beard opened the door. He was wearing long robes. Really playing the part, apparently.

"Merlin Emrys, I presume?" Emma asked as the man welcomed her inside with a sweep of his hand.

The man chuckled. "I'm afraid not. I'm merely his apprentice. Who might I tell Merlin is calling?"

Emma cocked an eyebrow. "You mean your all powerful boss didn't see me coming with his second sight or whatever?"

Emma stepped inside and the apprentice shut the door after her. "My master isn't clairvoyant. He merely has the ability to speak with the dead."

"Right," Emma said, not even trying to tamp down the skepticism in her voice. "I'm Emma Swan, and I'm here to-"

He stopped her with a raised hand. "Don't say too much. Merlin does not wish to be influenced by his clients. He wishes to sense the energy around you for himself."

Emma shrugged. "Sorry."

"It's quite alright," the apprentice said, moving toward large drapes at the far end of the room. "I'll be just a moment. Please, make yourself comfortable."

Emma looked around the room while she waited, and it took everything in her to keep from rolling her eyes. This guy was really playing up the whole "psychic" thing. It felt like she was in some sort of fortune teller carnival tent. All the signs and symbols. This guy even had a crystal ball. An actual crystal ball.

This trip was a massive waste of her time, but maybe it would at least prove to be entertaining.

"Emma Swan, welcome!"

Emma looked up at the handsome black man who made his way through the curtains. He was dressed in much the same way as his apprentice, only he wore a sorcerer's pointy hat on his head.

"Uh, thanks," Emma said, stepping forward and offering her hand. "Full disclosure. I'm more than a little bit of a skeptic, so if this is one of those 'it can only work if you truly believe' deals, we might have a problem."

"My gift can withstand the doubts of the skeptic," he chuckled before reaching out and taking her hand.

No sooner had his hand touched hers than he gasped, taking a step back, eyes going wide. "Would you-would you care to follow me back to my private sitting room, Miss Swan? It's far more comfortable back there."

Emma cocked a brow again, wondering what this odd man was on about. Still, she didn't sense any overt deception in him, and he didn't seem to be any threat to her, so she shrugged before following him through the curtains.

This backroom was far more ordinary than the room they'd just inhabited. Emma took a plush armchair, and Merlin sat on a sofa across from her.

Merlin pulled off his hat and sat it beside him. "I apologize for all the theatrics, Miss Swan," he said, reaching for a pot of tea and then raising an eyebrow in question. Emma declined the beverage with a small shake of her head, and Merlin proceeded to pour himself a cup. "I attempt to play up to what most clients expect from a psychic. Unfortunately, most poor souls who come to see me are out of luck. The loved one they wish to contact has passed on. For most, all I can do amounts to smoke and mirrors. I could tell the moment I shook your hand that you were different."

Emma inwardly scoffed. She knew enough about cons not to be fooled by a clever con man. Made sense he'd use a different tactic with a skeptic than he would with some poor, grief-stricken sap who was a true believer.

"No offense, but I still think you're full of crap," she said.

Merlin smiled. "It seems those with the most energy surrounding them always do."

"So, what?" Emma asked. "Are there ghosts all around me or something?"

"There are a few spirits here with us today," Merlin confirmed. "There's one who's quite insistent. It's a man; looks as though he died rather young. I don't sense he's family, but you were close. Maybe coworkers? Perhaps friends?"

Emma took a deep breath, a face coming to mind. Surely he couldn't mean-

"I'm getting a G in the name," Merlin said slowly. "Greg or Gray….no. Graham."

Emma's heart turned over. Graham. Sweet, slightly dorky Graham Humbert. They'd worked together on more than a few cases, and they'd become good friends.

In fact, they'd been teetering on the precipice of possibly becoming more than friends when he died suddenly.

"How did you know to mention Graham? How did you know that name would get the biggest rise out of me?" Emma demanded, voice hard.

"I don't choose the spirits who come to me," Merlin explained calmly, "I merely give them a voice. Graham is pleased to see you again. He's glad you're doing well."

The anger came then, spurred on by the pain the memory of Graham's death brought back. "Why are you doing this to me?"

"He died quite suddenly, didn't he?" Merlin asked, ignoring her question. "I'm feeling a tightness in my chest. Something with his heart?"

"Heart attack," Emma confirmed tightly. "He had a heart attack right in front of me and died in my arms."

"He's sorry, so very sorry you had to go through that," Merlin said, putting a comforting hand on her arm. "He never wanted to be a source of pain for you."

Emma felt the tears at the back of her eyes and had to take a deep breath to keep them from falling. "Yeah, well, he didn't exactly have a say in the matter. Look, I don't know how you knew to bring up Graham, but I'm still not buying it."

"He apologizes he couldn't bring you a bear claw today," Merlin continued with a smile. "Oh, and he asks if you remember the day he thought he saw a wolf. He wants you to know he wasn't drunk. It really was there-in spirit at least."

Emma gasped, remembering the night she and Graham had gone to the Rabbit Hole for a drink after a long shift and Graham swore he spotted a big, gray wolf right there on the main street of town. Emma had made fun of him for that, telling him he'd clearly imbibed a bit too much that night. There's no way Merlin could have known about that incident. He couldn't have found it in any newspaper or online article about Graham's death.

Was it...was it possible this guy was the real deal?

"Okay, I admit, it's weird you'd bring that up," Emma said. "Let's say I believe you, can you ask Graham if he's okay? If he, like, moved on or whatever?"

"You just asked him," Merlin said. "He's here with us and can hear you. He wants to tell you that he is okay. He's more than okay; he's happy. He's moved on, and he's at peace, more than he could have ever thought possible."

Emma smiled, feeling comfort at the thought.

"There's someone else here with us as well," Merlin said. "Another male presence, but I don't believe you know this one. This one seems angry, desperate."

"Um...should we be scared?" Emma asked.

Merlin shook his head. "He doesn't mean us harm, only wants his story told. He's too indistinguishable to speak now, but I sense he'll be accompanying us on our journey today as well."

Wonderful. An angry, desperate ghost guide. Just fantastic.

"So, Emma," Merlin said, after a moment, "what brings you to me tonight?"

Emma pulled out her phone and laid out the entire story for Merlin. She told him about the calls, the texts, everything. Merlin took her phone in hand and gasped as soon as it touched his hand.

"There is a huge amount of energy here," he said. "There's no doubt a spirit has attached itself to you-or at least your phone."

Emma felt a chill. "My phone is haunted?"

"Not precisely," Merlin murmured, turning the device over in his hand. "Someone wishes to get your attention; wishes for you to help him, but there's something odd here, something I can't quite place."

"What do you mean?"

"The spirit is...indistinct," Merlin said, "hazy and just beyond my reach. I've never experienced anything like this."

Emma waited, her curiosity more than piqued at Merlin's odd reaction to her cell phone.

After a moment, Merlin's eyes widened. "Your friend Graham cleared up the mystery for me."

"What?" Emma asked. "What does Graham say is going on?"

"The reason I can't get a clear read on the spirit attached to your phone-this Killian Jones-is, well, because he's not dead."

Notes:

-So there you have it. For those of you who have wondered how this story could possibly have a happy ending since Killian is dead-this is how. He's not actually dead!

-Up next: With Merlin's help, Emma finds out how this is all possible-and she finds the not-dead Killian Jones.

Next Chapter-->

#cssns21 #captain swan supernatural summer #my franfiction #cs ghost story au #dead man's cell phone

57 notes · View notes

fandomhopped · 3 years

Text

Amorous Little Girl

Pairing: Uhtred x fem!oc

Summary: The royal family disappointment and the Coccham group meet through an accidental run-in, sprouting into a kidnapping:)

Warning: toxic daddy issues, aethelflaed slander, one swear word—i think that’s it (unless you want to add terrible writing as a warning-😭i’m sorry in advance)

Word Count: 5k

“Father, why am I never allowed to meet these men?” Magnhild asked King Alfred after he sent her out of the room upon the arrival of Uhtred of Bebbanburg.

“Because you are a young woman,” he answered and flicked his wrist as if to tell her to leave.

“Aethelflaed has met them,” she retorted and crossed her arms with a pout.

“You and Aethelflaed are nothing alike,” he told his daughter.

“She is my sister,” Magnhild responded.

“Aethelflaed is educated, and refined, and independent on her own accord. You are an amorous little girl,” her jaw went slack at his accusations.

“An amorous little girl?” she questioned, “Are you joking?”

“Magnhild, we will speak of this later. I have king duties to tend to,” he dismissed her.

“Fine,” she muttered and slung open the doors to go into the hallway.

She was angry, blind rage took over her body. She hiked up her dress so she could walk faster down the corridor, fuming. She wasn’t paying attention to where she was going, she knew the halls like the back of her hand. Her jaw clenched and unclenched over and over as she thought of what her father called her.

An amorous little girl? He could not have been serious. She did not speak up about politics nor the ways of war and domination, but only because that was what her mother taught her to avoid. However, that did not mean she did not understand and have her own opinions of the matters. She only ever tried to obey and please her parents, but she could never be Aethelflaed.

As she came to the realization that she will never receive her parents love, she began to cry. She always cried when she was mad—something she hated she did and probably why her father thought of her as a little girl.

Oh, how her blood boiled as she thought of how much they paraded around Aethelflaed and obviously showed her more affection. Aethelflaed with her perfect face, and her perfect etiquette, and her perfect, moral, Christian heart, and her knowledge of the ways of war, and her sweet attitude, and her independence.

She became distracted when these thoughts came forward, running right into another person in the hallway. It was a very muscular man, because she was nearly knocked onto the ground.

“Oh, God, I didn’t see ya. I’m sorry,” he apologized quickly and put his hand on her shoulder.

“Finan, why are you hitting women? Is that not a sin?” another man next to them spoke, causing another man to laugh.

“Pardon me,” Magnhild excused herself and took a step to walk away, sniffling.

“Wait, are you hurt? Why are you crying?” the same man that hit her asked.

“I am fine, forgive me for running into you. I wasn’t paying attention,” she apologized.

“Well, why are you crying?” the man, who has not spoken, asked, he looked as if he were a Dane.

“Family issues,” she told them hostilely.

“Your family issues involve the king?” the accented man asked and Magnhild scoffed, crossing her arms.

“My family is the king,” she spoke, annoyed with their ignorance. Everyone knew her mother and father, everyone knew Aethelflaed, everyone knew Edward—even at his young age—yet, no one knew Magnhild.

“The king has another daughter?” the tallest one asked.

“Yes, but my father thinks I’m an amorous little girl, so I don’t meet too many men when they visit him,” she told them, “why are all of you here to see the king?”

“We have a report from East Anglia,” the tall replied.

“Ah, a battle for Beamfleot is soon to come,” she nodded to show her understanding, wiping the tears that had fallen down her cheeks, “I must be on my way, but if you need to find me, which you probably won’t, I will be somewhere in the courtyard.”

“Wait, what is your name?” the accented man asked.

“Magnhild,” she told him and looked to all three men, “and yours?”

“Finan,” he introduced himself, but you had already heard his name when you first ran into him and the tall one said it.

“Nice to meet you, Finan,” she shook his hand and looked to the quiet one.

“Sihtric,” he said and she shook his hand next.

“Sihtric, I love your name,” she complimented and looked to the last one, “and yours?”

“Uhtred,” he answered with a crooked smile and grasped her hand, kissing the back of it. He looked into her eyes, the smile not leaving his lips.

“Uhtred,” she repeated and smiled her beautiful smile that usually had men crawling after her.

“We were going to the ale house after we speak with King Alfred,” Finan chimed in, the two not breaking eye contact.

“I might join you,” she told them and turned on her heels with an excited smile gracing her lips.

Once sun set, Magnhild went to the ale house—without telling her parents, of course. They would have her sent to the chapel with the priest to be cleansed, if they knew she was going to drink with unmarried men.

She walked into the ale house and looked around for the three men she had met only that day. As she stood at the bar, waiting for the woman to give her her drink, she felt an arm sling over her shoulder.

“Aye, Lady Magnhild, I thought you weren’t going to join us,” he spoke and laughed. Magnhild grabbed her drink and walked with Finan to Uhtred and Sihtric along with another man she sort of recognized.

“Ah, here she is,” Uhtred said as she sat next to Sihtric, “Alfred’s secret daughter, meet Alfred’s bastard son,” he introduced and Magnhild’s eyes widened, her head snapping to the boy.

“Magnhild, family disappointment,” she introduced herself and shook his hand with a smile.

“Osferth…family reject,” he greeted awkwardly.

“Well, I do not have much time until my sister realizes I’m gone and tells my father,” she told them and downed what was in her cup, “shall we, gentlemen?”

“We shall,” Finan held up his cup and the others hit their cups together before drinking down the ale.

After many, many pitchers of ale and laughs, the group resorted storytelling.

“You let him trap you for a year then with Mildreth?” Magnhild asked as she laughed along with the rest of the men besides Uhtred, “everyone knows of Mildreth’s debt.”

“Okay, time to go,” Uhtred interrupted and stood up to go pay for his ale.

“No, Uhtred,” Magnhild whined and poked her bottom lip out. He looked down to her and got the dirtiest of thoughts, but quickly pushed them away, “I’m sorry for laughing, please stay,” she begged and grabbed his hand to pull him back down to sit beside her. She poked her lip again and tilted her head down to look at him through her lashes. He pulled his lip between his teeth with his tongue, looking down to her poked out lip then back up to her eyes, and sat down.

“We have already spoken of my misfortunes, let’s speak of yours,” Uhtred prompted and looked to woman, “why does your father think you’re an amorous little girl?”

“He…,” she snickered, “caught the guard and I… in bed and my sister told him that of our various acts before that,” she answered, then laughed before her next statement, “he threatened to sell me to the whorehouse,” she laughed harder this time.

“You have not waited for your wedding day?” Osferth asked as the men only stared at her.

“Not all of us are strong in our faith, but I did pay for my sins once Alfred found out, he—,” she stopped when she saw royal guards sent by her father, “shit,” she hissed and turned her head away, “what do I do?” she asked the group, who quickly became serious, as they watched the guards walk around the ale house.

“Sit on my lap,” Uhtred told her.

“Is this the time?” she asked him and sent him a look of confusion.

“Pretend you’re a whore,” he told her with a smirk and pulled her into his lap, “don’t look at them, keep your face at my neck when they come over here,” he instructed and she nodded, “Finan, toast to something.”

“Uh…t-to Baby Monk,” he said quickly and everyone hit their cups before drinking.

“Gentlemen, have you see the Lady Magnhild?” a tall guard asked and Magnhild kept her face in Uhtred’s neck, pretending to kiss it. Uhtred’s arm snaked around her waist and pulled her closer.

“Dark hair, blue eyes, and warts all over her face?” Finan asked the guard and he shook his head, “then I have no idea,” the men laughed as their drunken state returned.

“Who is Lady Magnhild?” Uhtred asked as he tilted his head to give the girl in his lap better access to his neck.

“King Alfred’s daughter,” he spoke and Uhtred furrowed his eyebrows.

“His daughter name is Lady Aethelflaed,” he corrected the guard.

“He has another daughter,” the guard responded.

“You lost the king’s daughter?” Finan asked and the guard looked away from Uhtred, “Should we help find her?”

“We cannot do everything for Wessex,” Sihtric shook his head and laughed.

“I am finding a room for the night,” Uhtred stood up abruptly and threw an arm over Magnhild, hiding her face in his side, “with this one,” he smirked and gestured to the girl, “sleep well, we leave midday.”

“I think we should be telling you to get some sleep, Lord,” Finan chimed in and they all laughed. Uhtred slapped Finan in the back of the head and walked out with Magnhild.

Once they were outside, he pulled her into a darker area, “Do you think they saw you?” he asked.

“Not at all,” she laughed, “oh, that was the most exciting thing I’ve ever done.”

“Your family knows you’re gone, we need to get you back,” he told her and looked around.

“They care not, they only do not want the ones who know of me to be confused when they do not mourn my sudden disappearance,” she told with a bright smile, “I want to do something else exciting.”

“It is late, you need to sleep,” he shook his head and tried to reason.

“No, Uhtred, they can wait a little bit longer before they know I am back,” she brushed it off and jumped eagerly, “let’s sneak into my bedchamber.”

“That is not a good idea,” he rejected the thought and shook his head.

“Why?” she asked and swayed a little bit due to the ale still in her system.

“For the same reason it is not a good idea for us to be alone right now,” he stressed and looked around again.

“Oh, that is—,” she was interrupted.

“Lord Uhtred!” a deep voice called from a close distance. Uhtred sighed and grabbed Magnhild, pushing her against the side of a close building and connected his lips to hers, “Lord Uhtred!” the voice called again, even closer.

Magnhild’s hands went to the side of his face and pulled him closer, completely forgetting why he even pushed her against the wall. She was pretty sure he forgot as well, because he reached for her hands and held them above her head.

“Lord Uhtred,” the voice called again, meekly this time, after clearing his throat. Uhtred pulled away but kept his face right in front of hers for a second before turning to the man.

“What?” Uhtred seethed and moved forward a little to make sure the man couldn’t see her face.

“King… King Alfred wants to see you,” the man said and gulped at the sight of Uhtred so mad.

“I will be there in a moment,” he told the man, causing him to leave quickly. Uhtred turned back to Magnhild, “I’m sorry if I made you uncomfortable, I did not want him to see you.”

“It is fine, Uhtred,” she told him and then gestured back to the town, “uhm, I should get back to my…,” she trailed off.

“Alfred will ask me to help find you,” he told her, “stay here and I will come back for you.” Magnhild nodded and Uhtred left her against the wall. She brought her fingers to her lips as she smiled.

What seemed like a long while after Uhtred left her, she heard loud stepping approaching her, so she pushed herself against the building.

“Lord Uhtred, we’ve already looked back here,” one man said as the light of a torch shone around the corner.

“We are looking everywhere more than once, this is the king’s daughter,” Uhtred responded.

“I didn’t even know the king had another daughter,” one man said and Magnhild threw her hands up in defeat. The men stepped around the corner, she jumped in fake surprise looked across the group.

“Lady…Madgefeld, we have been searching for you,” one of the guards spoke.

“It is Magnhild, you arse,” she corrected him and stood in front of them, “I know that you were looking for me, because none of you know silence nor surprise,” she insulted them, “take me to king, it is back to hell for me.”

The guards and Uhtred led her to the courtyard before Uhtred turned to the men and told them he could take her to her father.

“Did you hear that, Uhtred? They didn’t even know name,” she crossed her arms, “that man has been working for my father since I was born, and he did not even know my name.”

“You cannot worry yourself with that,” he told her and rested his left hand on the small of her back, “maybe it is better to not be known at all, than to be known by all.”

“I do not wish to hear your wise quotes,” she told him and laughed.

“I am not wrong, if you are to mess with something, you will not be held accountable by the kingdom of Wessex and possibly beyond. If…Aethelflaed is to do so, all of Wessex, Mercia, and Northumbria would know of the princess of Wessex’s mistake,” he reasoned with her. She stopped walking and turned to the man.

“Friends are not supposed to give solutions to problems they complain about,” she told him with a scowl.

“We are friends?” Uhtred questioned playfully and pulled a look of mock confusion.

“You have lied and covered for me more times since I met you earlier today than anyone I’ve ever known, I consider that to be a friend,” she said with a smile, “do you not agree?”

“ ‘Friends’ is so constrictive, it takes away the chance of being anything more,” he spoke confidently and tucked a strand of hair behind Magnhild’s ear, running his thumb down the shell of her ear before pulling away.

“Are you under the impression that there is a chance of anything more?” she asked in return with a teasing smile.

“Well, you seemed to enjoy what was happening earlier,” he shrugged and looked over her body shamelessly.

“You are not married?” she asked him and he cleared his throat.

“No,” Uhtred shook his head.

“I would have assumed women throw themselves at your feet,” she tilted her head to one side.

He furrowed his eyebrows, “They do, but I do not marry the first attractive lady I see,” he told her, “otherwise I would already have you in your house of God.”

“Was that attempt to flatter me?” she asked and leaned against the wall behind her.

“That depends… did it work?” he asked and looked up and down the hallway before placing his hand next to her head on the wall and leaning against it, “oh, come on, Magnhild, give me a chance.”

She let her head hang loosely before looking up to him, “Fine, this is your chance,” she shrugged, “woo me, Lord.”

“W-woo you?” he questioned and down the hallway again.

“Yes, do what you believe will win me over,” she told him and smiled.

She knew what she was getting into…or, at least, she thought she knew.

She felt as though she knew the Lord Uhtred and what his next play would be: to win her over with lame attempts to get her to swoon.

She definitely was not expecting him to lean in and bring her lips to his. Taken by surprise, she did not move at first, she only stood against the wall with Uhtred towering over her.

Right as he was about to pull away and apologize, thinking she was uncomfortable, Magnhild came to her senses pulled him closer to her. With one hand remaining against the wall, his other crept up the side of her body and to her neck.

She placed her hands on either side of his face as he held his body against hers. His tongue tasted of ale as it slipped into her mouth, a wave of pleasure washing over Magnhild.

Their moment was cut short when Uhtred quickly pulled away at the sound of a door closing.

They looked to see priests walking toward them, Magnhild grabbed Uhtred’s hand and ran toward her bedchamber quickly, escaping the view of the priests.

She pulled him into her room and held him against the door, reconnecting their lips and picking up exactly where they left off.

Magnhild hadn’t been with anyone since the guard that her father caught her with, so she wasn’t sure if it was the act or the person that had her wanting more than what was happening.

Uhtred seemed like a good person, but she only just met him that day. It felt wrong, but that feeling did not stop her from letting him pick her up and placing her on the bed.

Once she untucked his tunic, a knock came from the other side of the door.

“Magnhild,” a voice called, but the girl did not move from her spot nor stop her actions with Uhtred, “Magnhild, I know you are in there,” she recognized the voice as her mother’s.

“I need you to hide,” she told Uhtred and he groaned quietly before hiding behind the door. Magnhild opened it and looked to her mother, “hello, Mother.”

“Magnhild, why do you need to disobey your father and I over and over?” she asked as walked into the room. Magnhild gestured for Uhtred to sneak behind her mother and leave the room.

“I do not,” Uhtred heard her say before he walked quickly down the corridor and to the guards that remained in the courtyard.

He cleared his throat and rolled his shoulder before speaking to the men, “the princess has returned to the queen.”

“What took so long, Lord?” one of them asked and the rest laughed. Uhtred only walked past the group in silence.

“You ‘ought to be careful, we all know what happened to the last man that got caught in the princess’ bed,” another one spoke.

“Aye, poor Bjarte,” another commented, “and his wife.”

“What, uhm, what happened to Bjarte?” Uhtred asked before continuing his path to seek out Finan.

“Beheaded in front of all of Wessex, ‘t‘s a shame—he was the best of us,” the same man answered and hung his head.

The Dane-slayer looked over the men and back in the direction of Magnhild before finding a place to sleep for the night with the words of the royal guard on his mind.

The next day, Uhtred settled his affairs in Wessex, he saddled his horse and readied himself for his trip, as did Sihtric, Finan, and Osferth. He had no intent of speaking to, or even seeing, the princess which he shared an intimate moment with the previous night.

He had worked too hard for his land and the right to keep his life for a girl to mess that up. If Alfred had had his best warrior beheaded for being seen with her, he has no doubt in his mind Alfred would do the same to him.

Uhtred rode to the gate of Wessex, before hearing someone yelling after him. Of course he turned to see what the commotion was. He saw Magnhild quickly making her way toward the group.

“Wait!” she called as she ran toward their leaving horses, “take me with you.”

“I will not,” Uhtred shook his head, hoping Alfred did not see what was happening.

“My father is putting me in nunnery, because he said I am not Christian enough. Please, Uhtred, I cannot bear the life of a nun,” she begged and grabbed his leg.

“You cannot leave Wessex, you are a princess,” he reasoned and glanced to Finan for him to help. Finan only shrugged at his lord before Uhtred looked back down to Magnhild.

“They do not care for me here, most of the people of Wessex do not even know of my existence,” she told him with pleading eyes, “please, Uhtred.”

“You cannot pretend that you do not have a life here,” he told her and got off his horse to guide her back toward her father. He put his hand on her shoulder and started to walk her back.

Magnhild pushed his hand away from her and stood tall in front of him, “Uhtred, I’d rather pretend that I’m something better than these broken parts, pretend I’m something other than this mess I am, and I want get away more than pretend that I am loved and happy here,” she told him and he sighed, looking back to see no one is even watching the princess beg to leave her home.

“I know that you wish for my help with this,” he let out a long breath, “but bringing you with us is too much of a risk for yourself and for me.”

Magnhild let her jaw hang loosely, “where is the Uhtred that I was with last night?” she asked and crossed her arms.

“We were drunk,” he excused and put his hands on his hips.

She scoffed and slapped his arm, “you were as sober as you are now,” she told him.

Uhtred sighed and said, almost painfully, “We must remember it differently.”

“Well, then,” she scoffed and took a step away from him, “this is good bye, I wish you unsafe travels, I must be off to my long robe and headdress.”

“Magnhild—,” he began.

“If I were Aethelflaed, would your answer be different?” she cut him off, yet he stayed silent, “of course,” she threw her hands up before walking swiftly away from the man.

Many, many morning later, Magnhild sat with Abbess Hild on a pew before a cross.

“If God loved me, why would he give me a family who does not love, nor like, me?” Magnhild asked with anger, they had been on the topic of conversation for a bit of time now.

“He loves you, God does not give His people anything He knows they cannot handle,” Hild responded and held the princess’ hand in hers.

Magnhild wiped her eyes, “does He punish me, because He knew I was going to have sinful relations with Bjarte last winter? Did He know before I was going to lay with him, so he cursed me with an unloving family?”

“I assure you, He did not.”

“It is all so confusing—the sinful relations. I know he had a wife, and I know we were not married when I invited him into my room, however, why does it matter so much? It is only pleasure, is it not?” Magnhild spoke quickly, “I just do not understand.”

“The act is saved for man and woman after they’re wed,” Hild explained vaguely.

“But, why?” she asked, “for example, if man and woman are already said to marry, why do they have to wait until after they are married before a priest?”

“Man and woman are supposed to be united before God, then they can go to their next step—having children. One leads to the other, if you perform the act with other man besides your husband, you will have bastard children running all over Wessex,” Hild told her, then muttered, “which is a Dane’s way.”

“Abbess, is it wrong to marry a Dane?” she asked next, with the same look of begging for guidance.

“I do not see why it would be, as long as you raise your children to be Christians as well,” Hild shrugged, “but surely your father will not marry you off to the Danes.”

“And if I want to marry a Dane without my father’s knowledge?” Magnhild questioned and looked to her feet to avoid eye contact.

Hild furrowed her eyebrows, “Lady, Danes are cruel, and unforgiving, and merciless, and will mock our God,” she told her.

“But this Dane is not cruel, he does not hate Christians,” Magnhild defended and looked back up to Hild.

“I have only ever met—,” a look of realization overtook her face, “oh, Magnhild, you don’t mean U—.”

“May I interrupt?” a deep voice with a hint of a smile in the tone called from the doorway. The women turned quickly to the voice to see the man in question standing there, staring back at them.

“Uhtred,” Hild greeted and welcomed him with a hug as Magnhild stood far back behind Hild, “why are you here?”

“I have come to visit someone,” he told her.

Hild pulled a look of confusion, “you visit a nun?” she questioned, “a woman of God?”

“Eh, if that is what she is telling herself now,” Uhtred chuckled to himself briefly, “do you know where Lady Magnhild could be found?”

“Uhtred, if you have come to pull one of these women into sin while she is in a volatile state, then I beg you to leave,” Hild spoke sternly, yet Uhtred still watched her with a crooked smile—the one that Magnhild saw every night she fell asleep. Well, the crooked smile and the look on his face when he left her to her version of torture.

“I would never do such thing,” he said and laughed.

Hild sent Uhtred a look that the princess could not see, “Magnhild, please join us.”

Magnhild drug her feet as she walked over to the pair, “Yes?”

“Lord Uhtred would like to speak with you,” she spoke and took a step to leave, then looked back to Magnhild, “I will excuse myself, but remember what I told you,” Hild nodded to her before leaving the two.

“Lord Uhtred,” Magnhild greeted.

“ ‘Care to take a walk with me?” Uhtred nodded his head to the door.

Magnhild stared at him for a moment before agreeing, “Only because I want to speak of something other than my un-Christian acts,” he laughed before following her outside.

“Do you have a normal dress?” Uhtred asked and looked around suspiciously.

Magnhild gave him an odd look, “I have the dress I wore before I was sent here, why do you ask?”

“We are taking you with us,” he shrugged and put his hand on the small of her back, looking back one more time before leading her behind a building to find his three loyal men.

“Excuse me?” she looked over the group then sent a glare to Uhtred, “Why are you doing this? Is this a test to see if I have changed into a better Christian?”

“What? No,” Uhtred shook his head, “Is this not what you want? To leave?”

“You are joking,” she stated, “I cannot just leave.”

“Why not?” Sihtric asked.

“Because… well, because… what happened to your safety and mine?” she changed the subject.

“Your father will not kill me, I know of this now,” he told her and grabbed her hand, “we came back for you, you can stay here if you wish—but if you are to go with us, we must leave before Hild returns.”

Magnhild sighed, rubbing her temples with her fingertips. She could go with this group of men that she barely knew, or she could stay in torment.

She knew what she wanted to do, but was that the right choice? She only wanted someone to love her, care for her, not ignore her or her feelings—Uhtred came back for her, that had to count for something, right?

“Ugh, give me a moment,” she looked around the corner and left the group.

“That went well,” Sihtric muttered and looked to Finan.

“Why are we doing this again, Lord? Will this not result in treason?” Osferth spoke up.

Uhtred refused to face his men, “We will be fine.”

“Forgive me, Lord, but why this girl? You have done nothing other than speak and think of this one since we left Wessex,” Finan asked with a voice of concern.

“I do not know yet,” he admitted and looked around the corner, “she is—.”

“If you say she is different because she is not loved by her father, I’m going to leave,” Finan spoke jokingly and ran his hand over his face.

“I was not going to say that,” he sent the Irishman a glare, “she is…an amorous little girl that interests me.”

“Okay, we must go quickly,” Magnhild appeared before the men with a bright smile on her lips.

She was finally getting away, she was finally free, and no one would care about her absence.

“You ride with Finan and you keep your head down until we are out of sight,” Uhtred directed and helped her onto Finan’s horse, “I am going to speak with Hild, you all to the woods until I join you.”

They did as Uhtred said. Hild knew as soon as Uhtred began to answer cryptically that he had Magnhild with him. She knew what they were doing, yet even after he left with Magnhild, she did not speak of it to anyone, not even the king—but then again it wasn’t as if the king came to check on his daughter.

Hild knew the princess would be happy with Uhtred and his men.

And that she was, Magnhild used the skills her mother drilled into her brain, so she couldn’t be the best wife. She cooked for the men, she helped with cleaning, and she helped Uhtred with his needs…all his needs.

The two had had the talks, and Magnhild made it very clear that she did not want to get married yet, however she would not reject being a significant other to Uhtred. After a brief temper tantrum from the man, he agreed.

Magnhild lived with Uhtred in peace and happiness…until Alfred called for Uhtred once again.

#ems100 #uhtred of bebbanburg #uhtred ragnarsson #uhtred x oc #uhtred one-shot #tlk fic #tlk oc #tlk fandom #tlk uhtred #the last kingdom #tlk #finan #sihtric #uhtred #osferth

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tothemeadow · 3 years

Note

THE REQUEST ARE OPEN AGAINN!! AHHHH CONTINUATION OF PILLAR BODY SWAP THANKYOUUUU

‘switch ‘em up pt. 4′ / Pillars x Reader (now with the Kamaboko Squad!)

warnings: none

words: 2,243

(a/n): I just wanna thank the lovely anon that gave me the idea to this plotline; it helped a lot!

for reference: Giyuu/Shinobu | Gyomei/Mitsuri | Obanai/Tengen | Sanemi/Muichiro | Kyojuro/you

“I’m not sure I understand entirely,” Tanjiro confesses, his eyebrows furrowing. “So you’re looking for some special type of herb?”

“Precisely,” Shinobu says.

Overhead, birds chirp and flood the skies, hopping from branch to branch and competing each other with their harmonies. A delicate breeze sweeps through the area, carrying loose leaves and the crisp smell of nature. On any other day, you’d love to come back; however, considering the circumstances, you’d rather not be here.

After much discussion on what should be done to return everyone to their normal bodies, Shinobu voiced an idea that may work – finding a special herb and using its medicinal properties. It’s a bit of a longshot, but it’s not like anyone else has any other better idea. And whether the others voiced it or not, everyone is secretly wishing that this magical plant will bring a miracle.

As such, you and the rest of the Pillars take the trip to Mount Sagiri; Tanjiro insisted he tag along since he knows the area well, plus he wanted to help. Of course, this meant traveling with his two friends, Zenitsu and Inosuke. Truthfully, it’s quite a crowd you’re traveling with, but it should prove to be useful to have extra eyes searching for the herb.

“Giyuu knows this area as well, so it shouldn’t be too hard to find it!” Tanjiro chirps, looking to his friend. Although Giyuu is still stuck inside Shinobu’s body, he looks away, a light blush dusting his face. “Plus, Urokodaki-san should be able to help us!”

“Wait, that old man who used to be the Water Pillar?” Tengen questions.

“Don’t disrespect him,” Giyuu abruptly snaps. The muscle in his jaw ticks. “That is all I ask.”

At that, Tengen lets out a drawn-out whistle. “Damn, alright. Don’t tear my head off, waterworks.”

“Waterworks? What kind of name is that?” Sanemi speaks up. “I think you’ve been inside of Obanai for too long, Tengen. Your insults are starting to turn lame.”

“Fuck you,” Obanai mutters.

“It’s not my fault Obanai doesn’t possess a flamboyant sense of humor!”

With a sigh, you watch on as Tengen, Sanemi, and Obanai start bickering. Frankly, you don’t know why they’re even putting in the effort. Everyone is stuck in a situation that they don’t like, so what’s the point?

Beside you, Zenitsu wrings his hands, an uneasy expression crossing his features. “Uh… Kyojuro? Wait, wait, sorry – (y/n)?” You hum in response. “Are all the Pillars this… tense? Like, normally?”

“Heh. Well, not really. Sanemi’s always got a stick up his ass, and Obanai’s just naturally edgy like that,” you tell him. As you look to him, it strikes you as odd to have to look down at him. You’ve otherwise grown used to the height difference, but it still takes you aback sometimes.

Zenitsu snickers. His unease melts away, his shoulders visibly relaxing. “When you put it that way, it sounds just like that moron Inosuke.”

“Oi! Who the fuck are you calling a moron?!” Inosuke barks.

Quirking an eyebrow, Zenitsu shoots you a bored look. “See what I mean?”

“We’re here!” Tanjiro exclaims.

Having been distracted from the short conversation with Zenitsu, you’ve completely ignored your surroundings. Cursing yourself internally for being so careless, you look ahead, taking in the sight of a small home with an even smaller garden next to it. So this must be Urokodaki’s home, huh? How quaint.

“This doesn’t really look like much,” Muichiro voices. Shifting his attention to Giyuu, he cocks his head. “So this is where you were trained?”

Giyuu nods stiffly. The look on his face – Shinobu’s face – is, well, vulnerable. You haven’t seen him show so much emotion before, and it’s a bit startling. If you’re being entirely honest, it looks as though he’s ready to throw up everything that’s inside his gut.

“It’s just as I remember!” Tanjiro chirps. “It’s nice up here, don’t you think? The air gets thinner from here on up, so please be careful when scaling the mountain.”

As if on cue, the door to the house slides open, revealing an elderly man with a tengu mask adorning his face. The air about him demands respect; it’s more than obvious that this very man was a Pillar, and a strong one at that. You watch on as Tanjiro and Giyuu step up towards the house before dropping into respectful bows. Tanjiro’s movements are much more fluid, more comfortable. Giyuu’s are more… wooden.

“Tanjiro, my boy!” Urokodaki greets. Ushering Tanjiro closer, he greets the young man with a hug. “…Who’s this fine lady with you?”

Tengen laughs.

“Urokodaki-san, it’s me,” Giyuu grumbles. “Giyuu…”

Although you can’t see Urokodaki’s face, you have a pretty good idea of what it’s like. The man falls silent, glances from him to Tanjiro, then he scans over the group behind him. Sure, you can’t blame him for being skeptical; a random swarm of people showing up to your house unexpectedly is bound to raise some questions. However, these are all Pillars he’s dealing with. This isn’t something to take lightly.

“Urokodaki-san,” Tanjiro begins, “we need your help. We’re not entirely sure how, but all the Pillars switched bodies with each other. It’s been like this for a number of days now, and we don’t know how long it’s supposed to last.”

After another moment or so of silence, Urokodaki sighs and crosses his arms. “Listen, kid, that seems a bit… much, don’t you think?”

“It might be some sort of Blood Art!” Tanjiro rushes. “Please, Urokodaki-san!”

Again, another sigh. “So everyone is in another body than their own? Haven’t heard of an ability like that before, but that doesn’t mean it’s not possible.” Nodding in Shinobu’s direction, he says, “So, that’s Giyuu’s body, but it isn’t him?”

“Unfortunately, yes,” Shinobu tells him. “Believe me when I say I don’t want to be in Giyuu-san’s body more than I have to.”

“Ehhh?! What’s with all the talking!” Inosuke bursts. “You guys said you wanted to find a plant, not talk to some old coot!”

“Inosuke!” Tanjiro scolds, but he’s too late. In a blink of an eye, Giyuu practically materializes right before Inosuke, his fist colliding with Inosuke’s gut. There’s a loud groan of pain as Inosuke drops to the ground, his hands clutching onto his stomach. To the side, both Zenitsu and Tengen break out into fits of laughter.

“I told you not to disrespect him,” Giyuu grunts.

“Ohoho!” Kyojuro booms, just as loud as always. At this rate, he’s going to blow out your vocal cords before you can get them back. “How loyal, Giyuu! I’m impressed!”

Rolling your eyes, you break away from the group, opting to join Tanjiro. “Urokodaki-san,” you greet, giving a polite bow, “it’s a pleasure to meet you. Listen, I know this is a complicated situation, but we really need to find this plant. It’s crucial that we do.”

Urokodaki hums. “I know you – you’re Rengoku Shinjuro’s boy, aren’t you?”

“Huh? Well, technically – but I’m not Kyojuro. I’m (l/n) (y/n), the Wild Pillar.”

“You’re not? Figures. This whole “switched body” conundrum is making my brain work in ways it hasn’t worked in years.” Urokodaki waves a dismissive hand at you. “Whatever. If all of you are willing to look for such a plant, feel free to scale the mountain to your heart’s content. I’ll get dinner started.”

“Thank you so much!” Tanjiro chirps. After Urokodaki slides the door shut behind him, the two of you turn back to the others, smiles plastered on both of your faces. “Everyone – it’s time! Let’s turn you all back to normal!”

After hours of searching, no one has come up with anything. Granted, a vast variety of edible plants line the mountain – all of them useful in one way or another – but it’s not the dreaded silva you’re looking for. Shinobu said it was vine-like, with delicate leaves shaped like bells. The only you found worth of any interest was watching Inosuke eat almost every mushroom he could find and crack open acorns like they were nothing.

Soon, the sun began to dip below the horizon, painting the sky with hues of peach and berry. The view was simply breathtaking, and you had to stop to take it in for a few moments.

“It’s always been like that,” Giyuu says quietly. Stopping next to you, he gazes at the setting sun, a wistful gleam in his eyes. “Most of the time, we were too busy training to watch it, though.”

Now that you think about it, Giyuu has been acting weird ever since arriving. Call it intuition, but you’re almost positive that he was feeling guilty about something. And he said we instead of I, so that only confirms your suspicion. Glancing around, you imagine a younger Giyuu descending the mountain, panting like crazy in the thin air, narrowly avoiding the numerous traps Urokodaki set up. If he experienced anything like the pain roaring in your back and sides right now, you’re amazed he dared to set foot back on this very mountain.

“Thinking back to simpler times, huh?” you ask, voice soft.

Giyuu scoffs. “The training was far from simple, but yeah. Things were a lot more different then.”

As if acting on its own, your arm slings itself around Giyuu, tugging him closer and holding him against your body. With him in Shinobu’s body, he’s so small, his head nestled against your chest. At first, he tenses up, but then slowly relaxes in your hold. Ever since switching bodies, you’ve noticed Kyojuro’s personality starting to bleed into yours. Hell, even his body is trying to one up you.

“I miss him,” Giyuu whispers.

Your heart drops to your stomach at his tone. “…Who?”

“Oi! Are you two just gonna stand there or are you coming back down?” Sanemi snaps.

Muttering a curse under your breath, you pull away, but you keep a hand on Giyuu’s forearm. “You’re helping me down, got it? This mountain gives me the creeps and I don’t want to get rammed by another damned log. Seriously – how did Urokodaki-san even set them up?”

Despite the saddened glint in his eyes, Giyuu manages to crack a smile.

The inside of Urokodaki’s house is cramped, but it’s also very homely. Scattered around the living area, each person more or less sticks to themselves, too much in pain to engage in lively conversation. Shinobu treats to the wounds, making sure bones are intact and intestines didn’t take too much of a beating. The only ones completely unaffected are Tanjiro and Giyuu, but that much is obvious.

“So what now?” Mitsuri asks. Still in Gyomei’s colossal body, she’s probably one of the Pillars that’s had the most trouble adjusting to her new form. “We’re not going to give up looking, are we?”

“I didn’t think it was this rare,” Shinobu admits. “Perhaps we were looking at the wrong spots on the mountain? It’s possible.”

“Take a breather before springing back into motion,” Urokodaki says. Sitting before the hearth, he absentmindedly prepares some tea. “Think, plan, then go about your business. A mindless game of hide and seek isn’t going to produce any results.

“Mmph! Mmph!” Nezuko agrees (or you think so, anyway). You’ve only met her a handful of times outside of her box, but you enjoy her company very much.

“Wait,” Shinobu suddenly says, snapping upright. “Urokodaki-san, what’s that you’re grinding up right now?”

Setting down his mortar and pestle, Urokodaki busies his hands with plucking apart wildflowers. “It’s silva. It grows right out here in my garden.”

At that, Shinobu’s draw drops. “By the gods-“ She facepalms, then, and groans. “That’s the herb we were looking for! You’re telling me that it’s been down here the entire time?!”

“Why didn’t you say what you were looking for?” Urokodaki says. “Could’ve saved a lot of time.”

“You’ve got to be fucking kidding me,” Sanemi curses.

“That wasn’t very flamboyant of you,” Tengen chimes in. “I agree with Sanemi – this is bullshit.”

Urokodaki shrugs. “And how is that my fault? You’re all Pillars, are you not? Shame on you for being unobservant.”

“Urokodaki-san, please,” Tanjiro says.

“Alright, alright, fine.” In a couple of minutes, he prepares the tea as planned and pours it into a number of ceramic cups. “Since you’re all on my ass about it, drink up.”

“Uh, should we really be drinking this…?” Zenitsu squeaks, staring down at his own cup.

“Stop being a pussy!” Inosuke cackles. Tipping his head back, he downs his tea in one go.

Everyone more or less follows suit, taking sips of their own tea. As you set your own cup down, you feel the beginning of a warm, pleasant sensation in your lower tummy.

“Hey, Shinobu?” Tanjiro asks. “Is the herb supposed to make you feel sleepy?” At his words, Nezuko slumps to the floor. One by one, all the others drop like flies, yourself included.

Some time passes before your eyes crack back open. The inside of Urokodaki’s house is dark; from the crickets chirping and an owl hooting nearby, you quickly realize that it’s nighttime, and it’s probably late. With a groan, you sit up, dragging a hand across your face in the process. Wait… that’s not your hand, and it’s not Kyojuro’s either. Squinting through the darkness, you’re able to make out slight details, but it’s enough to make your heart sink. The herb didn’t work.

You’re in Giyuu’s body instead.

#kny #kimetsu no yaiba #demon slayer #kny x reader #kimetsu no yaiba x reader #demon slayer x reader #kny pillars x reader #kny hashira x reader #kny pillars #kny hashira #request

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theleftovertaco · 3 years

Text

The Boys in Lingerie

OK FIRST EVEN VAGUELY SMUTTISH POST

Basic warnings in order please don’t interact if you don’t want to see this. Use basic judgement. You know if you’re too young to read something

Once again, I try to keep it house, gender, and year neutral so anyone can fill in the blanks where they wish, guys, gals, and nonbinary pals alike

We have standard lineup- Fred, George, Draco, Neville, Harry, Ron, Oliver, Cedric, and now Charlie and Blaise have been added!

ON TO THE FEMBOYS IN LINGERIE

Fred

You and Fred had messed around before with kinks and lingerie

He always liked how it looked on you, how the lace hugged you perfectly

Freddie is a very forthright person, if he wants to try something he will tell you in advance, and so he talks to you about him wearing some

You agree immediately and the two of you find a magazine to order some because there is no shop that sells that in Hogsmeade, unfortunately

He finds a pair of pink panties and chooses those because of course he does and when the box arrives (he has to avoid George’s questions about what's in the box)

He puts them on and then sends you a notes asking you to come to his room while no one else is there

And when you find him

“Baby boy, you look amazing.” He smirks and spins in a circle before leaping on the bed, you following close after

George

George wandered into a strange shop in muggle London when you and him were exploring during Christmas break

He found a sex shop where they sold a lot of lingerie and before he got yelled at by the shop owner to “get out, you tosser!”

He couldn’t get the lingerie out of his head

He didn’t think about you wearing it, well maybe a little. No he actually thought more about the cloth on his own body

So about a couple weeks after seeing those and getting back to school he plucked up the courage to ask you (he was a Gryffindor, dammit, he shouldn’t be scared)

“How would you feel if I... wanted to wear panties?” “Sure, love, sounds good if that’s what you want.” “Wait, that’s it?” “Yea.” “Ok good, cause I kinda already ordered them.”

He darts into the restroom to put them on and then comes out to show you and holy fuck

He’s in this pale blue pair of flower lace bikini panties and walks out looking just a little timid and you fucking jump him

Draco

Draco saw a pair of Pansy’s underwear during a game of strip poker and while most of the other guys were ogling her, he was thinking about how the silk would feel on him

He buys a pair, but then they just sit at the bottom of his trunk for about a month and a half

Then he wears them once or twice around the common room under his trousers before he even thinks of telling you

He writes you a note during History of Magic (its not like Binns will notice anyways): “Can you come to my dorm after classes today? I want to show you something.”

So you go thinking its gonna be some gift his mum sent again but you enter the dorm and see him in a pair of silk black panties

“Honey, you look fantastic!”

You may or may not have torn them off of him

He may or may not have had to buy another 10 pairs

Neville

Neville sees a girl in a thong in one of his dormmates old magazines and he just gets a little spooked

Because his immediate thought isn’t about you in them

It’s about him in them

So he panics

Slowly but surely, as your relationship progresses he gets a little more bold, in general, since you make his confidence skyrocket when you’re around him

So he wears them around during the day and when he pulls you into a empty classroom you’re a little scared about what he’s gonna do because of the timid look on his face

But he pulls down his trousers to show the pastel yellow thong he’s wearing and he slips on his old cat ears

You let out an audible groan

“Kitten, you look beautiful.”

He blushes and looks down in embarrassment just a little

“Nuh-Uh, don’t you dare look embarrassed kitten, come here.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

Harry

You and Harry had a very honest relationship

He is a rather frank person and is not afraid to tell you want he wants in a relationship, but of course, you know that right out of the gate

Plus after the heels debacle, he knew never to try and hide what he wanted to wear from you

So when he discovers your collection of lingerie, he straight up asks you if he can try them on

“You sure?” “Yes please.” “Yeah ok go ahead, sunshine.”

He grins and snatches his favorite pair, a red set of satin underwear that barely cover anything

“You ready love?” “Of course sunshine, come on out!”

He steps out and you are speechless to say the least

He looks amazing and you pretty much drag him over to sit on your lap while you kiss him

So now he wears panties all the damn time because why not

If he likes it and he’s confident wearing them, you’re all for it

Ron

Ron is still a bit wary about wearing lingerie

He’s been wearing more stereotypically feminine clothes, but wearing panties is a whole other game to him

But you suggested it, and he was willing to try

It takes him a bit to warm up to the idea of lingerie

Ron has you walk him through it, what would be comfortable, what wouldn’t be, and he settles on a pair of black satin ones “They’ll be comfortable, promise!” “If you’re sure...”

You do a trial run where he just kind of lounges around the common room wearing them underneath his normal clothes

By the end of the day he’s hooked on it and you are too

He likes the softness of them

Ron has always felt like he had to be strong, and measure up to his brothers masculinity, but when he’s in the lingerie, he feels like he doesn’t have to conform to that

Anyways yes he likes the panties

Oliver

Oliver saw a pair on you once under your sweatpants when you were cuddling

“Oh, what are these?” “My panties???” “They’re pretty... do they make them for guys?”

Bro was straightforward

So you buy him a pair “I trust your judgement love, buy whatever you want!”

So he ends up with a pair of red silk ones that feel amazing

He wears them whenever possible

About a week after he starts wearing them, Angelina somehow finds out and the Gryffindor quidditch team dares him to ride on the broom in only his panties

So he tries it... before immediately slipping off and falling on his ass

“Stupid fabric.”

He manages to stay on the second time, and well, now you have a few candid shots of your boyfriend riding a broom in lingerie

Not that you’re complaining

Cedric

I need to stop calling Cedric Pretty boy, but does that mean i will? no

Pretty boy loves you in lingerie

The fabrics are always so pretty

And he has never been shy about this, so he just asks you if he can try on a pair of yours

“Yeah, of course pretty boy go ahead.” he kisses you on the cheek and runs off to find a pair

He puts on a pale yellow satin pair of briefs

And walks back into your dorm

“Fuck, pretty boy!” “You like it?” “Baby, I adore it!”

Cedric begins wearing them around campus

He likes how his thighs look in them, and soon he starts wearing them under his skirts

If he bends over, you can see it pretty easily, he knows exactly what he’s doing

He tries to rile you up

Fucking tease

Charlie

Charlie is a very muscular person

It isn’t that he doesn’t like traditionally feminine stuff, he just never thought he had the build for it

It takes a while for him to change his mind, since contrary to popular belief, he is actually pretty insecure

“Don’t you think I’d look strange in them, stocky kid in girls underwear?” “Well, it’s not just for girls, and no you would not! I happen to think that you would look beautiful!”

He likes that word. Beautiful

People have always described him as handsome, cute, but never beautiful

So he agrees

Maybe it’s something about wizarding Romania that’s more accepting but when the lady at the shop you go to sees that the panties are more fit for Charlie, she winks at the two of you and says to “have fun with those”

So he puts them on and holy shit

He understands it now

He feels beautiful

Blaise

Blaise likes being pretty lets be real

He doesn’t really give a flying fuck what people think of him

So he jumps on panties real quick

Finds the prettiest pair of emerald panties he can find and he loves them almost immediately

He likes putting on a short skirt and makeup on to top off his whole vibe because why not

Another thing about Blaise is that he is a fucking flirt

With everyone, not just you

And while you trust that he would never cheat on you or betray you, if he gets a little too flirty with anyone else, all you have to do is creep your hand up to the satin undergarment and give it a little tug to remind him who he belongs to

You, bitch, it’s you

Ok that’s it for now idk what I’m doing next so if you want me to write something please send me an ask. Also I rarely write suggestive/smut fics if you know ways that I can make this better please for the love of god let me know.

This feels like a good time to say that this is the final set of characters. I have 10 right now, and if I keep accepting more people I’ll just end up doing 20 characters every time. I love doing these but I don’t have the time or energy to do every single character, it just would not be good for my mental health. That being said, if you want a specific headcanon of a specific character, please SEND ME AN ASK so I know that you want that directly. I would be more than happy to write it for you.

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