#Id give him a bone crushing hug if I could .. | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

forever-rogue · 2 years

Note

may i request one where joel finds comfort hugging reader in a bone crushing hug after a long day 👉👈

do with it what you will fluff angst spice ill take them allll i just want this man to crush me and id welcome it hehe

AN | One bone-crushing hug with a side of angst and softness coming right up 🥰

Pairing | Joel Miller x Fem!Reader

Warnings | Language

Word Count | 2k

Masterlist | Joel, Main

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

You looked at the watch on your wrist and sighed softly. The watch didn't work. It hadn't for a long time.

But he'd given it to you and that made it special. You'd never taken it off, even when the battery died. He insisted he'd get you a new watch or even a new battery at the very least. You never took him up on the offer; it didn't matter to you whether or not ticked away as long as you had it.

Normally it served as a bit of reassurance. Today it served as a reminder that he was gone. Not gone, but gone for long enough that you were starting to get worried. Not that you would ever admit that to anyone. You didn't want to appear weak, but you also didn't want to cause anyone else to worry.

But this wasn't like Joel; he was never gone for more than two or three days at most.

It had been over a week.

And not knowing what happened to your lover was brutal.

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

"Worryin' isn't going to solve anything."

"Well, not worrying isn't solving anything either," you threw a hard look at Tommy and shrugged before going back to your relentless pacing, "so if I have the option, I'll choose worrying."

"It's probably the bad weather," he mused, and you were sure he was trying to convince himself of that as much as you, "could be a lot of things. Jumping to the worst possible conclusion isn't…"

"I love your eternal optimism," you stood in front of the windows and looked towards the gate as you often did, "but I'd rather expect the worst and be pleasantly surprised when he comes back. Versus the alternative."

The younger Miller brother nodded before letting out a long sigh, "I know."

"I'm scared, Tommy. It was supposed to be a simple supply run," stopping suddenly, you turned to him, eyes glittering with unscheduled tears, "what if he doesn't come back? It shouldn't have taken this long. I don't know what I'll do. I-I…"

He remained but hugged you tightly, trying to soak in all the worry and doubt you had. If it was an option, he would have taken all the worry and fear from you and dealt with it himself. If only.

"Why don't you go home for now and get some rest?" he suggested softly, wiping away the tears that had rolled down your cheeks, "I'll stay here. I'll let you know if anything changes."

"Tommy-"

"Go and be with the kids," he whispered as your heart panged. You knew Ellie was just as worried about you, but she was the glue holding you all together right now, "they need you too."

"Okay," you nodded, "thank you."

"It'll be okay," he promised and you desperately wanted to hang onto his hope. All you could do was give him a small nod.

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

By the time you got home, you were spent and felt like you could use a year long nap. You closed the door behind out and let out a long sigh, letting go of everything you'd been holding back as you kicked your shoes off.

You heard Ellie's voice in the living accompanied by a small set of giggles. Your heart softened at the sound and your heart yearned to be with them. You shred your coat before making your way over to them, Ellie on the floor on a big fluffy blanket as she played with the little girl. Your little girl; but really they were both your girls.

The two of them stopped as soon as they heard you, Ellie offering you a small smile and Emma babbling and cooing happily. There had never been anyone you'd loved more than these two…and Joel.

You walked over to them and sat down, pressing a kiss to the top of Ellie's head before pulling the baby into your lap. She squirmed as she tried to hug onto you, "she's been really talkative today. As much as a one-year-old can be."

"I wonder who she gets that from," she teased, causing the girl to grin sheepishly.

"Definitely not Joel."

"Definitely not Joel," you agreed. You sat back against the couch let out a long breath as you pulled up your legs and laid Emma against them, giving her tickles which only caused her to laugh harder.

"She looks like him," Ellie stroked her rosy, chubby cheek as you nodded. She had the same big, brown eyes and roguish hair, her expression often appearing as though she was deep in thought, "he's going to be okay, you know."

"Ellie…"

"I mean it," she insisted in that steadfast way she often did, "he'd never leave you or her o-or…"

"You," you finished for her, "we're all family, Ellie Bean."

"Yeah," she sat next to you and leaned her head on your shoulder, "he'll come back. Nothing would stop him."

"You're right," and god, you hoped she and Tommy were right, "he'll be home soon."

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

Several more agonizing days passed without any word, and the nagging feeling in the pit of your stomach felt like it was going to eat you alive. Even Ellie, happy, optimistic Ellie, was started to show signs of worry. She’d never admit it, but she didn’t have to; it was written all over your face. You were just glad that Emma was still a baby and wouldn’t remember any of this.

That thought alone had led you down a rabbit hole of worry. What if he didn’t come back? What if she never got to see her father again? What if she didn’t remember him? How were you supposed to raise and take care of Ellie and Emma all on your own?

You groaned as you startled awake for what was the umpteenth night in a row. You hadn’t been sleeping much; every time you managed to fall deep enough into slumber, the dreams - nightmares - came again and caused you to wake up. Most of the time you ended up giving up on sleep and would sit in the kitchen, nursing a mug of tea that grew cold as the sun came up.

A book was currently in front of you, one you’d read a hundred times before, but you weren’t actually taking anything in. Your mind kept wandering, wandering, wandering. You were so lost in thought and so zoned out at the same time that you almost missed the pounding on the door. You almost ran to the door when you snapped back into reality, trying to keep the noise from waking the girls up.

When you got to the door, you wretched it open without even looking to see who it was. It was Tommy, wild-eyed and looking somewhere between excited and nervous.

“Come,” he didn’t hesitate to grab your arm as he pulled you out of the door, “come.”

“What’s going on?” you looked at him, confused but going along with him. You noticed that the front gate was closing and a group of people were nearby. The hairs on your arms stood up as a shiver ran down your spine, “Tommy?”

The crowd slowly parted and you felt like your heart felt like it stopped in your chest. Part of you wondered if you were dreaming, but you felt Tommy squeeze your shoulder, “go.”

Your feet were carrying you, faster and faster until the rest of the crowd dissipated and you found yourself face to face with him.

“Joel,” you hadn’t even realized you were crying, weren’t consciously aware of anything else but him.

You didn’t get a chance to say anything else before he threw his arms around you, wrapping into the tightest, most bone-crushing hug imaginable. You didn’t care; you wouldn’t have cared if his touch bruised you black and blue. It was him, he was home, he was here.

You held him back just as fiercely, and you could physically feel the tension in his body ease as he let himself relax into your familiar touch. You weren’t even sure how long he you, how long you clung onto his body before you finally parted.

He took your face in his hands, his touch calloused but tender as he studied, almost as if he too didn’t believe you were real. He looked worse for the wear, but nothing unmanageable, nothing that would take him from you. And then he smiled, the same wonderful, lovely smile that made his dimple appear and the corners of his eyes crinkle, “sweet, beautiful abejita. I heard you were already planning my funeral.”

A moment of silence passed before you burst into laughter, tears - this time of joy and happiness - running down your face. Joel brushed them all away before kissing you softly. There was no way to properly put into words how much you’d missed this, him. When you pulled back you felt his arms wrap around your waist, “even if you didn’t come back, I’d find you and kill you myself if you thought you were going to get away with leaving me with two monsters to raise on my own.”

“Fuck, I’ve missed you,” you buried your face into his chest and breathed him in. It didn’t matter that he was sweaty and dirty; him being here was enough, “you and that mouth and everything else about you.”

“I’ve missed you too,” you looped your arms around his neck and held onto him tightly, hugging him as you rocked back and forth, “I love you.”

“Terribly,” he agreed in the way that he was prone to doing, “I’ll always come back home to my girls. Even if I have to come crawling back.”

“Joel!” the small voice came from behind you. You turned to find Ellie there, holding a warmly bundled up Emma in her arms. Word got around fast, “you’re back.”

He let out a sigh of relief at the sight of his girls, dropping to his knees in front of them as he looked them both over. The baby, miraculously, was still sleeping, but he stroked her cheek before repeating the gesture on Ellie. She swallowed thickly, tears unshed in her eyes as he hugged the two of them, gently, delicately.

“I missed you both,” he promised, not that there had ever been a question on that. Ellie nodded, at a loss for words, “what, kid? No smart comment from you?”

“No,” she shook her head, a few tears falling down her cheeks, “I missed you. I’m glad you’re home, Joel.”

“Me too,” he promised, turning back to find you watching them with nothing but reverent fondness in your eyes, as you smiled at him, “me too.”

#joel miller #joel miller x reader #joel miller x fem!reader #joel miller x you #joel miller imagine #joel miller one shot #pedro pascal #tlou #tlou hbo

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heartofwritiing · 1 year

Text

Rest Easy

paring: musicianbur x fem!reader

summary: Wilbur overworks himself which results in him falling asleep in your lap in the studio. based on one of an idea I had from this

authors note: I was feeling a little bummed so I wanted to write something quick and fluffy I hope you guys like it!

warnings: fluff, one swear, unedited, and not proofread, please ignore any mistakes!

The text you got from Wilbur when you were on your way to your apartment was short but sweet.

-Gonna be home later than usual, working on a bug in the studio with a particular song. don't wait up for me if you’re hungry love you <3

It was only around 6:45pm which was a bit late for him work wise. So, since you were close by anyways, and your stomach was growling to eat something, you headed straight for the studio a few blocks away. Making a small stop at the sandwich place on the way he always raved about.

You knew his order by hear so you didn’t bother messaging him, plus you wanted to surprise him.

Arriving at the studio you entered the control room, noticing the red light was on indicating the band was recording. You quietly shut the door behind you, and John-their music producer- swiveled around in his chair to give you a small wave. Everyone else you could see through the glass window in the recording room was chilling with their respective instruments as you guessed, waiting for instructions.

You could hear a backing track of guitars and drums play through the speakers, as the warm baritone voice of your boyfriend mixed in with the instrumentals lulled you into a state of comfort.

"Fuck," he swore through the mic when he messed up a line. It echoed through the speakers reverberating off the walls. He just wanted to get this last bit right and then they would be done. You couldn’t help the giggle you let out at his minor outburst of annoyance. you swore you thought he could hear you through the padded walls because his eye line met yours through the window, a look of surprise crossed his face. Lifting your hand that held the bag of food with a wave, his eyes lit up with alleviation and gratitude, he motioned for you to come in.

You somehow maneuvered your way passed all the wires and various equipment strew all over the studio without tripping. Wilbur Pulls you into and bone crushing hug after a few hours of separation he couldn’t wait to get his arms around you.

“You didn’t have to bring me food,” he says pulling back, giving your cheek a quick peck.

You give him a frowned look. “who said it was food for you, smart guy?” Jokingly of course.

Wilbur just deadpans.

“Come on, you went to my favorite sandwich place,” Wilbur lifted your arm still holding the take away bag to prove a point. He saw the logo of the shop on the front. “walked two blocks just to bring it to where I am.”

Damn, he caught right on to your ruse. You rolled your eyes playfully and threw up your metaphorical flag in defeat.

“okay, fine you caught me, I thought id be nice and bring you something to make sure you don’t starve, especially after such a long day, sue me.” You stepped closer once again to give a kiss to his lips.

Wilbur hummed in appreciation before leaning in.

“and that is why I love you,”

“because I bring you food?”

“precisely my love,”

Joe who was scrolling through instagram on the loveseat against the wall was listening to the whole exchange with a smirk pulling at his lips until he spoke up.

“You two are disgustingly cute,”

You pulled away from Wilburs lips reluctantly and turned your head to the amused Joe, who you didn’t even know was still here.

“we try our best,” you shrug.

You trudge over to where Joe was sitting and plop down beside him while Wilbur gets back to work to finish up this last line. Not knowing he was gonna be here you didn’t think about getting Joe something but he waved you off saying he would get something afterwards.

Watching Wilbur sing into the mic was a whole thing. He seemed so lost in his words when he sang, concentration purely written across his face as his throat muscles bob with each note. You thought he constantly so good but today he just looked so damn good. His hair was fluffed in a particular direction, glasses sliding down the bridge of his nose and his eye brows scrunched as he pressed his full lip’s against the pop filter.

You felt so dumb at the jealousy of an inanimate object surging through you as you watched him wet his lips with his tongue and they brushed the mesh.

He must’ve felt eyes staring at the side of his head because, he turns his head in your direction with a smirk and that glint in his eye that makes your body heat. He sends you a wink as he finishes a word, then quickly puts his attention back forward.

Happily, about a few minutes later, Wilbur came to sit next to you, munching away at his sandwich. You both chatted away about your day eventually he had to get back to finish up the recording.

About half an hour later you were both still in the studio. Joe had already left but Wilbur was adamant to get this last track perfect.

"Wil, honey?" you called out, he lifts one headphone and he raises his eyebrows at you.

"I think you should rest, just for tonight, you've done so much and you looked exhausted, and it's getting really late we should head home." concern laced your voice and made him consider stopping for a moment.

You had checked the time once again peering at your phone and saw the time read: 1:33 am. But you knew him too well.

It wasn't fair of him to keep you here all night. You had work in the morning as well. Wilbur felt the guilt gnawing at his chest, the yawn in his voice telling him to rest. rest. rest.

"I'm sorry love, just two more lines and I promise, I'll be done.

He walked over to you and placed a kiss on your forehead quickly before turning back around again.

You always loved Wilbur's determination, but he sometimes could overwork himself to the point of exhaustion. Noticing the growing bags under his eyes and the grogginess increasing in his voice every day, you knew he was over-working himself. Non-stop for the past five days. The new Lovejoy ep was causing him so much stress, he put too much pressure on himself, which worried you immensely. He would go to the studio early in the morning, get home late, fall into bed next to you, get up the next day, and do it all over again. He was tiring himself out more than usual and it wasn't good for him.

You scrolled through your phone absentmindedly in the same spot, fighting off sleep. In your peripheral vision, Wilbur stood in front of you startling your occupied brain. He moved when you noticed him and he laid his head down in your lap, his long legs dangled over the arm of the couch before you could say anything.

Wilbur buried his face in your tummy as his hand snaked around your waist so he could cuddle into you further. It was an odd position he was in, but he seemed cozy.

"you tired?" you tilted your head, running your hands through his messy brown locks. Wilbur hummed at your touch and nodded in response.

"I'm sorry, I should have listened to you," he mumbles into your shirt.

Sometimes you hated his stubbornness, but you loved him so that made up for it.

Not even a minute passed and Wilbur was already softly snoring in your lap like a tired cat. You giggled at your boyfriend and admire his calm features, running the pad of your pinky down the bridge of his adorable nose and watching as he twitched at the contact. A faint smile spread on his lips. He looked too peaceful, so for now, you'd let him sleep. You were happy he was finally getting some well-deserved rest anyways.

"Rest easy, my love."

End

taglist: @justanormalfangirlx2 @merakiwi

#fanfiction #wilbur soot x reader #cc!wilbur soot #cc!wilbur soot x reader #musicianbur #musicianbur x reader #wilbur soot x fem!reader #mcyt #mcyt fanfiction

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ptergwen · 3 years

Text

through the lens

w/c: 2.3k

warnings: swearing and mentions of blood (all fluff tho!)

summary: yours and peter’s date night doesn’t go as planned, thanks to his “little” accident and mj’s photography project

a/n: it’s been a minute but i’m back! for now lol i promise i’ll be way more active when exam season is over <3 this was based off the lovely pic above taken by the even lovelier zendaya and i hope you enjoy these… let’s call it random workings of my mind

“hang on, can you come closer?” mj instructs you, you promptly stepping towards her. “is this good?” “great,” she affirms and squints behind the camera. “smile really big on the count of three, okay? one, two, three!” doing as she says, you give mj your cheesiest grin with your eyes squeezed shut and all. she snickers while snapping the moment on her polaroid.

mj asked you to be her subject for a photography project. you’re happy to do it, although it’s super last minute. like, barging-into-your-room-and-begging-you-for-help last minute. she was supposed to turn this in days ago. lucky for mj, her teacher was feeling generous and gave her an extension.

you have to work fast because of mj’s deadline and your plans with peter. he’s coming over for a movie marathon and cuddles right about now. well, he’s actually running a tad bit late. that’s typical peter for you.

“just a couple more, and then you’re free,” mj informs you while shaking out the polaroid. “this is honestly pretty fun, you know.” you glance at the photo she’s holding with an eyebrow quirked in surprise. she captures you well. “what made you choose me?” “no one else was free on a saturday,” she snorts and tosses the picture in a pile with the rest.

your mouth falls agape. “i’m not free! peter’s gonna be here in…” you check the time on your phone, much to your dismay. “he’s a few minutes late, but still. i have things to do, too.” a smirk sets on mj’s face as she gets ready for the next photograph. “relax, y/n/n. i was kidding. i’m sure spider-dweeb will be here sooner than you know it.” sighing lightheartedly, you take a seat on your bed.

“don’t call him that,” you shake your head. mj throws her own head back to the ceiling. “ugh, but that was a good one,” she insists, you only humming. “it’s better than penis parker, at least.” “nah, i like the alliteration,” you laugh out and earn a giggle from mj. “you’re lucky parker doesn’t have super hearing, or does he?” winking, you hit a pose for mj. you’re looking at her over your shoulder with smolder eyes.

“ask him yourself, after you get this shot.”

the two of you continue messing around with her polaroid until the film is almost gone, and peter has yet to arrive. you’re starting to worry. you aren’t sure where he could be.

he doesn’t patrol on weekends unless it’s an emergency, and he would’ve told you if there was one already. he’s never this late without sending a text, either. it’s almost an hour past when date night should’ve started. on the other occasions peter has gone off the grid, they didn’t end well.

“i’m freaking out, em. do you think he’s in some kind of trouble?” you ask mj, pacing around your bedroom. she offers a sympathetic shrug. “maybe he just ate some bad yogurt. remember last time?” being the dummy he is, peter once scarfed down an entire tub of vanilla yogurt before he realized it was expired. no one heard from him for days. he didn’t show up to school or answer any calls.

may ended up inviting you over and explaining he’d gotten a stomach bug, which you then tended to him for the rest of. the story was so amusing, and so peter.

“may doesn’t buy him dairy anymore. why do you think he always raids your freezer?” you bring your fingers up to rub your temples. “the kid can empty ice cream cartons in one bite,” she agrees, silently cringing. her curiosity piques at the fact. “is that also a power?” “who cares?” you nearly shout, your fingers curling into fists. “what i wanna know is if peter is fucking okay.”

on cue, there’s a knock at your apartment door. you and mj exchange looks of urgency, both rushing out of your room to answer.

mj follows you through the hall and stands by your side while you fumble with the lock. when your door pulls open, ned has his hand raised to knock again. “ned? what are you doing here?” you don’t give him the chance to speak. “have you heard from peter? he was supposed to be here a while ago, but he never showed.” rather than answering in words, ned takes a step aside.

the sight you’re met with makes you gasp. peter peeks out from behind him, cuts and bruises littering his flushed face. he gives you a lopsided smile.

“you have your answer,” mj murmurs to you and eyes ned curiously. he lets out a nervous chuckle. “here he is.” you push past ned and practically jump into peter’s arms, your hug bone-crushing. “peter, oh my god! are you okay?” wincing, peter hugs you back by your waist. his chin rests carefully on your head.

“hey… i’m alright, baby. still pretty sore, though,” he sucks his lower lip between his teeth. you take the hint to loosen your grip on him. “i was worried something bad might’ve happened to you. i… i guess i was right.” your tone softens, you threading a hand in his curls. they’re completely disheveled from whatever went down with him.

ned heads inside to catch up with mj, the two of them letting you have a moment alone.

“someone’s got a spidey sense of their own, huh?” peter tries to lighten the mood by joking. it doesn’t work, a frown still evident on your face as you try to untangle his once soft locks. “baby, everything’s fine. i just… had a little accident is all. no big deal,” he reassures you and moves in to peck your lips. you’re so shocked that you dodge the kiss.

“little? your whole face is black and blue, pete!” you tug on the white collar of his button up, peter letting out a shaky breath. your other hand comes to rest on his cheek, touch gentle. “how’d you get like this?” he licks across his lips shyly and sets his hands on your hips. “see, on the way over there were these bad guys who-“

“no there weren’t,” ned cuts in, scoffing at the beginning of his friend’s story. peter shoots him a warning look over your head. “yes there were, ned. you weren’t even there!” he catches mj glaring at him before he continues. “don’t listen to him. anyway, i had to fight them because…” when he trails off, you stroke your thumb across his cheek, avoiding any wounds in the way. raising both eyebrows, mj speaks up.

“because why? go on, parker. i’m intrigued,” she encourages him. everyone can tell peter is lying except you. the question really is, what’s he lying about? he gulps down his spit, pulling your body against his for comfort. “take your time, peter. we can wait,” you say only for him to hear. his love filled eyes meet yours, and he nods. ned huffs at the dramatics unfolding before him.

“dude, you’re making this way worse than it actually is. just tell her!” he demands, mj cocking her head to the side. peter’s gaze flits between the two of them. “tell me what?” you wonder softly and tilt his chin, willing him to look at you again. “i… i…” peter’s shoulders slump, his voice lowering in defeat. “there weren’t any bad guys.”

“of course there weren’t,” ned confirms. “no shit,” mj adds. exhaling, you wait for your boyfriend to further elaborate. “what really happened, then? be honest, pete.” peter lets go of you so he can come into your apartment properly, you shutting the door behind him. he scratches the back of his neck as he fills you in. “ok. um, me and ned were hanging out.”

ned is attempting to stifle a laugh for some reason, which mj elbows him for. you take one of peter’s hands. “yeah?” “we were at my place, and… you know those really slippery steps on the sixth floor?” peter pauses for someone to answer, playing with your fingers. “the ones flash almost wiped out on once?” mj questions in amusement. he lets a quiet chuckle out. “good times. yeah, those.”

his gaze averts to the ground, you listening on. “so, i was walking ned out on my way over. we were talking about spidey stuff-“ “as per usual,” mj mumbles to herself. ned raises his hands in defense. “—and i told ned i could always stick my landings. he didn’t believe me.” you playfully roll your eyes, seeing where this is going. “so… i, uh, decided to show him,” peter finishes off.

“i did a, um, backflip. tripped and fell down the flight of stairs,” he finally admits to you, putting his other hand on top of your intertwined ones. “clearly, i was wrong.” his bloody face is now red from humiliation. “you didn’t trip, dude. you freaking summersaulted!” ned corrects him and bursts into laughter he’s been holding back. “idiots, both of you,” mj simply remarks.

“that’s it? why didn’t you just say that?” you almost laugh yourself. groaning, peter rests his forehead against yours. “because it’s embarrassing! i wanted you to think i’m a tough guy or whatever.” placing both hands on his cheeks this time, you nuzzle your nose against his. “you don’t have to be a tough guy to impress me, babes. you’re kind, smart, funny. makes up for you being such a klutz.”

peter cracks a grin, easily capturing your lips in the kiss he didn’t get to before. it doesn’t last long because mj gags and ned whistles at you. you’re both giggling when you pull apart, peter kissing the tip of your nose for good measure.

“you really mean that?” he checks, tucking back a strand of hair from your face. “of course. i have a thing for himbos,” you tease and poke at his bare chest. his eyes widen. “how about i get you some ice and you find our first movie?” you’re already off to the kitchen, beaming at peter. “date night’s still on?” he happily plops down on your couch, mj showing ned her pictures from earlier.

“as soon as those two get out of here,” you call loudly enough so ned and mj hear you. “yeah, yeah. we’re leaving,” mj deadpans, shoving the photos back into her portfolio. peter glances over at it curiously. “what’s that for?” “photography project,” she says and gets an idea. “i have some film left. y/n took up most of it… you losers want the rest?”

while mj coerces her way to a higher grade, you put some popcorn in the microwave for your movie marathon.

“well, i could use a new lockscreen. i’m in!” ned quickly concedes. him and mj both give peter hopeful looks. “i’m not!” he protests, squishing one of your pillows against his chest. “with my face looking like… this? forget about it.” mj walks over to him and places her portfolio on the coffee table. “what? those gashes are gnarly… in a good way, i mean,” she promises.

“painful, too,” peter murmurs. “y/n, hurry up with that ice!” mj demands, grabbing the polaroid camera from its string around her neck. you wave her off. “what i’m saying is, they’ll look sick in my portfolio.” mj forces a smile, ned looking at her weirdly. “uh, what’s the theme of your project again?” “freestyle, baby,” mj casually replies.

peter comes up with a condition that could persuade him. “if you say please, i might consider it,” he concludes, mj perking up. “please be in my project. pretty please?” she instantly requests, ned pursing his lips from behind her. peter rubs his chin. “y/n, what do you think? should i?” you pipe in from the kitchen. “yeah, so she’ll leave my house.”

“you heard the lady. i’ll do it,” peter gives in. all but squealing, mj gestures for ned to sit. “this’ll only take a few minutes. you guys are really saving my ass.” ned gets comfortable next to peter on the couch, who wants to see how far mj will really go. “aw, we are? i believe that calls for a…” ned catches on. “it comes after please…” mj picks up her camera with gritted teeth. “thank you, morons. say cheese!”

that’s the only warning peter and ned get before they’re blinded with the flash. ned does a toothy grin as he leans into peter’s side. peter musters up the best smile he can, hair a mess and cuts burning pink on his face. satisfied, mj snatches the photograph as it pops out.

“pleasure doing business with you two,” she states, you joining the three of them in the living room. you set the popcorn on the table and give peter his ice pack. he presses it to his cheek, kissing the back of your hand. “send me that!” ned reminds mj, helping himself to your bowl of popcorn. she salutes him.

“there’s my star. what do you say, y/n? wanna take one more really quick?” mj suggests, already holding up her polaroid. you take the other cushion next to peter, your head on his shoulder. “can peter be in it with me? since he’s in the modeling mood tonight.” he wraps an arm tightly around you. “let’s do it, sweetness.”

eagerly jumping in front of you two, mj crouches down to get a better angle. “on the count of three. one, two, three!” the camera clicks, and you surprise peter by laying a smooch on one of his cheeks. he’s holding the ice against his other, genuinely smiling for this picture. ned coos at you, mj showing off her work when it dries.

“how adorable,” she says sarcastically but means it. peter nods at her in appreciation, his lips brushing the side of your head. “what can i say, you’re a pro,” you compliment mj. “come on, em!” ned cheers through a mouthful of popcorn.

tonight was an unexpected and exciting mess, even if your date night did get crashed.

#peter parker #peter parker fluff #peter parker imagine #peter parker x reader #peter parker x y/n #peter parker x you #peter parker smut #peter parker fic #peter parker fanfiction #tom holland #tom holland fluff #tom holland imagine #tom holland x y/n #tom holland x you #tom holland x reader #tom holland smut #tom holland fic #tom holland fanfiction

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harrysweasleys · 4 years

Text

a day in the life // f.w

request: Hi Alexaaaa So someone brought up this idea on my blog and i wanna request it id thats alright with you. So like imagine Fred having an auror wife and stuff and him being v protective and not wanting her to go on this dangerous mission but she goes anyway but gets really badly injured and poor freddie is worried sick. I love comfort fics i cannot lie and i hope u like this request thank you

warnings: mentions of explosions, injury, blood, and food

word count: 2.4k

a/n: hey guys! i hope you all had a wonderful week and that everyone is safe! the new year is right around the corner, can you believe it? where did the time go?? anyways, this was such a fun request and i loved writing it so much, so i hope you all enjoy! xx

“For the last bloody time, Freddie, it’s going to be fine,” you groaned, your head tossing backwards as you repeated the words to your husband for what felt like the thousandth time.

He crossed his arms, “I know you can handle yourself, but please. Please, for me, be careful. Don’t let anyone get the jump on you.”

A small smile made its way onto your lips and you placed your hands on his shoulders, “I always return, don’t I?”

“Yes,” he grumbled. You knew he hated it when you went off on dangerous missions — how couldn’t he? You were his wife. It was practically an oath of his to protect you. A vow. There was no way he’d let you run into the jaws of death without giving you a rough time beforehand. He always had something to say about it.

And he often did just that. He’d go on and on about how you could get hurt, how something could go terribly wrong and he could be left by himself. How you needed to see things from his point of view. You’d then spend the morning comforting him and convincing him you’d be fine, but at the end of the day, he’d always give you a bone crushing hug, muttering “glad you’re home safe” as he did so.

“I’ll be home in time for dinner, yeah?” you asked, standing up on your tip toes and pressing a light kiss on his nose. He scrunched up his face as you did so. You could tell he was trying to act upset at your leaving, but he couldn’t stay mad at you. Especially when, in his thinking, it could be the last time he sees you.

“Fine,” his lips stuck out in a small pout, one of his hands reaching up to run through your hair, “Stay safe, love.”

You brought your hand to his, lifting it to your lips and pressing a kiss to your knuckles, “Love you. See you soon. I’ll be fine.”

He then tossed your hand to the side — gently, of course — and brought your lips to his. His hand was cupped under your chin, fingers causing a slight ticklish feeling as they delicately moved against your skin. But the feeling went practically unnoticed as you lost yourself in his kiss. His kiss that often rendered you breathless and weak in the knees.

You could feel his love and protectiveness in the gesture and it almost made you want to call in sick so you could stay curled up in bed with him, ignoring the world’s problems and acting as you two were the only people on the planet.

But, sadly, that couldn’t happen.

So you gingerly pulled away, already missing his warm lips against yours, and muttered a quiet “I’ll be fine,” once again before beginning to button your jacket.

It was going to be a long day.

Hours later and you were, in fact, not fine.

The mission had gone horribly wrong, leaving you with a heavily bandaged left arm, a throbbing head, and a group of St Mungo’s best Healers giving you countless antidotes and potions to prevent bleeding and further damage. You had only really been in for about an hour, but the swelling in the left side of your body had gone down heavily.

The pain was still rather horrendous, but you didn’t want to make a big deal out of it. Especially not with the current levels of exhaustion floating through your body. You felt as if any second now, you could completely pass out and stay asleep for the next seven years. And you wouldn’t even complain.

Pain really did take a toll on one’s body.

What was even more draining, though, was the fact that your Healer told you you’d have to stay the night. You trusted the staff at St Mungo’s with your life — it wasn’t exactly the first time you’ve been treated here, to be honest — but the room you were staying in was incredibly chilly and the food here was never as good as at home.

Plus, here, you didn’t have Fred’s body curled up next to you.

Fred.

He had gotten the message an hour ago that you were here and he said he’d close up shop early to come see you. They said he sounded rather when they sent someone to deliver the message, but you knew he’d barge in through those doors with wide eyes and panic written across every inch of his face. He was never one to really hide away from his worry, but you had seen him silent on a few occasions. Usually when he was in shock.

You felt awful. Both physically and emotionally. Fred had every right to be paranoid about you leaving the house; this wasn’t your first injury. And yet, you spent every morning persuading him to let you go. Fast forward to today, where you were currently bandaged in an uncomfortable bed at St Mungo’s. Not an ideal ending to your day, to be honest. And not an ideal piece of news for Fred to receive.

“Your husband is here, should we let him in?” one of the healers came to your side, checking under the bandage on your hand before nudging her head in the direction of the hallway.

A small groan left your throat, “Of course.”

She walked towards the door to the room and opened it, Fred’s frantic face finding its way to your bedside as quickly as possible. You could see the paleness of his skin, making his usually fiery hair stand out even more. His sweater was badly buttoned, and you were pretty sure the scarf he was wearing was on backwards.

If the situation was any different to the way it was right now, you’d probably have a good chuckle.

His hands immediately found yours, giving small, gentle squeezes as if he would break you if he put any more pressure, “Love, are you okay? What happened? Are you badly hurt?”

You let out a sigh with a small smile, “Freddie, I’m fine. It’s just some minor bumps and bruises. I got caught in the middle of an explosive curse, it’s fine.”

He pulled his hands away from yours and sat on the small metal chair next to the bed, pulling it as close to you as he could, his eyes scanning every inch of you as if he were doing his own evaluation, “It’s fine?! I was worried out of my bloody mind, woman. Can you imagine the panic when some bloke comes to tell me my wife’s at Mungo’s? Bloody thought you were dying.”

“You’re not getting rid of me that easily,” you joked, rolling your eyes playfully before reaching your hand out to grab his, toying with the wedding band on his left hand, “I just have to stay here for the night. I’ll be home first thing tomorrow.”

“You have to stay?” his bottom lip stuck out, the childish pout on his face adding to the guilt fluttering in your chest.

You sat up slightly, trying to limit the weight on your bad arm, “I’m sorry, love. It’s for precaution. I don’t want to leave and make things worse. But, I promise, as soon as I’m discharged, we are heading home and doing nothing all day, yeah?”

“Well, I’ll stay here with you tonight ,” he puffed out his chest slightly as if he was a superhero, causing a bubble of laughter to erupt from your chest. Maybe it was just the exhaustion from your day, bud Fred’s sense of humour really never failed to get to you. Even at the worst of times.

Your eyes began to droop, but you gave his hand a squeeze, letting him know that even though you were fading, you were still listening and conscious. The last thing you wanted, now that he was here, was to leave him alone in the cold room. Cold, both in temperature and in atmosphere.

“You look tired, love,” his voice was soft, gentle. Loving. All the things you wanted to hear right now. If you were honest, you were worried he was going to be furious. Not at you, per say, but at what happened. So the fact that he was being caring and sweet meant more to you than you could begin to express.

Your eyes fluttered shut as he rubbed soothing circles on the back of your hand, “Tired? Me? Never.”

His laugh was quiet but you could hear it loud and clear, “Go to sleep. I’ll be here when you get up.”

You didn’t want to sleep, to be honest. You wanted to sit up and talk to him. To let him know you were sorry and just what went wrong today. You knew he’d listen, and would most likely panic a bit more when you told him the details — but he’d be comforting. And that was kind of what you needed right now.

But, alas, your body had other ideas, and before you knew it, you were sound asleep.

“I can handle it myself,” you groaned, both hands gripped tightly on the jar of jelly, twisting with all of your might and still, somehow, not getting the lid to pop off.

Fred stood in the doorway to the kitchen, his arms crossed and a small smirk on his lips, “Alright, I’ll just watch from here.”

You stuck your tongue out at him, turning back to the jar and focusing all of your strength into opening it. Which wasn’t saying much, to be fair. You hardly had your strength back, and your body was still as sore as ever. You should probably give the jar to Fred, but your inner stubbornness told you to do it yourself. You couldn’t improve if everyone did everything for you.

“You’re sure?” his voice was laced with amusement as he held back a laugh, watching as your cheeks turned red from the amount of force you put into opening this jelly jar. You were surprised it hadn’t broken, but then again, were you even applying that much force?

“I’m fine!” you grumbled, using your sleeve to prevent the skin on your hand from getting irritated, your palm already bright pink from excessive use.

But it seemed to be no use. Your toast will have gone cold by now, and your breakfast just wouldn’t taste the same.

“Fine, here,” you mumbled, sticking your arm out and pushing the small jar into Fred’s chest, your bottom lick stuck out in a pout that could rival your husbands, “I hate feeling useless.”

He popped the lid of the jar as if it were nothing before handing it back to you, “I know, love. But you’re not useless. Your body just needs time to recuperate, yeah? Can’t go pushing your limits or you’ll just end up back in St Mungo’s, and I reckon you don’t want that.”

“I don’t want that,” you replied, beginning to spread the contents of the jar onto your now-cold toast, “I’m just bored. I miss work. I stay home alone all the time.”

His arms slithered around your waist, giving you a light squeeze as he rested his head atop yours, “Georgie’s taking over the shop today so I can stay here with you. We can do whatever you want.” His warmth spread through your body.

You had to admit, that did lift your spirits a little bit. The whole day at home with your husband? That sounded like quite the treat.

“Really?” you turned to face him, his arms still wrapped around your waist, but he took a step back so you could actually look up at him, “The whole day?”

“Course,” he grinned, pressing his lips to your forehead, “Gotta take care of my girl.”

The day hadn’t been overly eventful; a few cuddles on the couch, a few cuddles in the bed, listening to music, sitting next to Fred and watching telly as he organized paperwork for the shop. Just a few small things. But being with him for the whole day, it really did make you feel a million times better than you had all week.

Maybe that was his plan. To use his very presence as a way to cheer you up. Whether he did it knowingly or not, it did the trick. And now, the aches and pains in your body seemed to dissolve as he ran his hands up and down your arms, the two of you curled up in bed and ready for another night’s sleep.

“Thanks for spending the day with me,” your shot him a smile, but highly doubted that he’d see it in the dark, “I already feel loads better.”

“Of course you do,” his voice sounded cocky even though you couldn’t quite make out his face, “I make anyone feel better. I’m a real treat.”

You scoffed, “Yeah, I adore your humbleness. That’s why I married you.”

One of his hands slid around your waist and pulled you closer to him, body flushed against his. He was still gentle as if not to hurt you, “Not the only reason you married me, love.”

“Right, I also married you for George. I don’t know what I’d do without that chap in my life,” you teased, one of your hands finding it’s way into Fred’s hair, twirling at the strands that were starting to get long. Not as long as when you were in school together, but long enough that it covered his ears and often made you tuck a few strands behind his ear.

“You wound me,” he tried to pull away, but you held onto him enough that he couldn’t. Your strength was starting to come back, which was a massive improvement.

“I’m actually the wounded one,” you rebutted, your face finding it’s usual spot in the crook of his neck, his warmth encasing you like one of his hugs.

His arms wrapped around you, “You can’t be wounded anymore! I gave you so much love. That should have healed you.”

You giggled, placing a light kiss as the nape between his neck and shoulder, “Silly me. Your love has healed me, that’s very true.”

Fred might have had a certain reputation while the two of you were in school. But now, with your marriage only getting better by the day, you couldn’t help but see him as just one thing. As Fred. Your husband, your lover, and the man who would throw himself into a fire if it meant saving your life.

You lucked out more than you can even begin to express, and you would continue to be so for the remainder of your days.

taglist (message me to be added!)

@grierpilots @hxfflxpxffs @mikumana @msmimimerton @pit-and-the-pen @diary-of-an-onliner @theweirdsideofstuff @thoseofgreatambition @theweasleysredhair @haphazardhufflepuff @starlightweasley @mytreec @thisismysketchbook @valwritesx @vogueweasley @hufflrpuffforfred @phuvioqhile @marvelettesassemble @shadowsinger11 @breadqueen95 @hahee154hq @inglourious-imagines @almostweepingbanana @ickle-ronniekins @iprobablyshipit91 @wand3ringr0s3 @susceptible-but-siriusexual @amhyeah

#fred weasley imagine #fred weasley imagines #fred weasley x reader #fred weasley reader insert #fred weasley one shot #fred weasley one shots

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jortsaaaaaaart · 3 years

Text

Competition raihan x Reader x Leon. Chp 1

All updates will be posted on my Ao3 https://archiveofourown.org/works/33064546

This will contain sex and a bit of violence later on.

It was a still spring morning in Postwick. The fog hung heavy in the air, faint lights in the distance were the only signs of any other people. This was your favorite time of day. No expectations, no people. And most importantly, nothing to do but drink your tea. On most days you could spend hours like this, in uninterrupted bliss. Today, however, your neighbor had other plans.

You heard him before you saw him. Hop was running up the path to your house yelling your name at the top of his lungs. Hop had always had way too much energy but this was ridiculous. You wouldn't be surprised if all of Postwick came out with torches and pitchforks for the crime of screaming at 7:30 in the morning. He rounded the corner to find you sitting on your porch, slowly nursing the last of your tea.

"(Y/N)! You won't believe it!" Hop exclaimed.

"What is it?" You groaned.

"Lee is back in town." You perked up at that. Leon hadn't been home in quite some time. "He's at the station right now and he brought something for us."

"For both of us?" Hop had grabbed your hand and was gradually pulling you off of your porch.

"Yes, he specifically asked for you too. Now move your fat arse!!"

You tried not to let yourself overthink Leon asking to see you. It had happened before. There probably wasn't any special reason your unrequited childhood crush would want to see you. Nope. None at all.

You followed Hop to the station down the hill, trying your best to keep pace with him. Sure enough Leon was at the station surrounded by almost all of Postwick. Being the champion had its difficulties you supposed. Leon looked up at the two of you when Hop yelled his name and suddenly you were aware of how sweaty and disheveled you must be. The two brothers talked animatedly while you tried to smooth your hair down.

Eventually Leon's eyes met yours and you felt that familiar lurch in your stomach. "Hey, Lee. It's been a while."

"(Y/N)! I almost didn't recognize you! How was Uni?" Leon smiled and gave you a bone crushing hug. "It's been years since I last saw you, you're not a kid anymore!"

"We're only two years apart, Lee! I'm 21 for Arceus's sake!" You laughed, hitting his arm lightly. "What are you doing here anyways, the gym challenge is starting in a week."

"I managed to get away for a bit, though I'm technically still on league business." Leon stopped and looked around, giving all his fans another brilliant smile and a wave. "Let's continue this at home."

That piqued your interest, he was on league business but it was secret? Or he at least didn't want all of Postwick to know about it. You trailed after him, mulling over the options, until you reached his house. The size of it and how pristine the grounds were always got to you. You felt small and dirty by comparison. Leon walked over to their battle court and released three Pokemon. A Scorbunny, Soble, and Grookey. All three Pokemon stared up at you expectantly.

"I brought these Pokemon for the both of you! It's almost time for the gym challenge so I figured you were chomping at the bit."

You were shocked, it made sense for Leon to give Hop a Pokemon- Hop had adamantly refused any endorsement other than his brother's. But you hadn't really put much thought into becoming a trainer. You had been sick with bronchitis when you were sixteen and missed the deadline for the challenge. After that life got in the way again and again until you decided you'd just go to University.

"The both of us?" You repeated incredulously. Hop had already dived towards the poor Pokemon who didn't realize how much petting they were about to receive.

"Hop told me you were back and hadn't found a job yet so I thought this would be the perfect opportunity for you."

"I don't know, I'm a little old to be participating, don't you think?"

"There's no age limit, I get plenty of older challengers." He assured you. "Besides, you're the smartest person I know. I still remember all those strategies you helped me come up with when we were kids. You'll do amazing." Leon placed a hand on your back, guiding you towards the Pokemon. Hop had Grookey in his lap by this point, leaving Soble and Scorbunny. The rabbit Pokemon bounded up to you immediately, seemingly upset it wasn't getting as much attention. It threw itself into your lap and demanded to be pet. You knew in that moment that you had made your choice, or Scorbunny had made it for you.

"Looks like that's that." Leon chuckled.

"What will happen to Soble?"

Leon scooped the water type up in his arms. "They'll be fine. I'm going to raise them, after all."

"I've got nothing to worry about, then." You laughed.

"Well, there is one thing. Which one of you is going to win your first battle." Hop cheered at his brother's words, his new Grookey hooting along with him.

"That's right! We're both trainers now, (Y/N)! We have to battle!"

"Have to? I mean, I guess it's okay. You okay with it Scorbunny?" Your new partner jumped up and ran to one side of the court. "I guess that answers that. You're going to be dragging me around quite a lot, aren't you?" Scorbunny, who you really needed to come up with a name for, hopped around happily.

Hop and you went to different sides of the court while Leon explained the rules. Hop was at an advantage with his two Pokemon to your one. But this was just for fun. Hop started off with his Wooloo and to your surprise it was downed in a minute. Scorbunny deftly evaded any attacks and retaliated with blazing kicks and Ember. Your heart was beating faster when Grookey was sent out. You felt elated, like you could see each move the opponent was making in slow motion. With the help of the type advantage, Grookey was down even faster than Wooloo.

You couldn't believe it was over and you had won. Is this how it felt for Leon? Heart racing, anticipating every second, and the feeling of joy and accomplishment when you won. It was addicting.

"What a great battle," Said Leon. Glossing over the fact that you just beat his little brother into the ground. "After seeing that I feel a lot better about giving you these." He handed each of you a sealed envelope. "That's my endorsement for the gym challenge, don't lose it. I'm talking to you, Hop. . . The opening ceremony is in a week, you'll get your uniform and badge case there. But for now I'll help you with your pokedex and trainer ids."

The sun had set by the time Hop was done asking Leon questions and you meandered back to your house. Being part of this gym challenge was a lot to think about, but you had genuinely enjoyed battling. You weren't as nervous when you battled, even with Leon near you. By the time you reached your porch you had made up your mind. You were going to head out and try to become a trainer.

. . . Now you just needed to find a tent. And a bag? What did you even need to pack???

Looks like you won't be getting much sleep tonight.

#raihan #Leon #hop #Pokemon #raihan x reader #leon x reader #Pokemon x Reader #x Reader #reader insert #fanfic

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angloie · 3 years

Text

Beach trips and I'm Falling in Love • 2.5/2

When Annabeth meets a strange boy on vacation, she doesn't expect for their relationship to grow much. He's... terribly sarcastic. Cocky. A not-so great match for her witty self. But after learning he visits the same beach every year she does, their strange friendship blooms into something more.

Their realtionship isn't the only thing that blooms over the yearsー that meaning a certain raven-haired boy.

genre ; childhood friends to lovers, fluff, strangers(?) to lovers, exchanging letters au, percabeth mortal au.

warnings ; swearing, suggestive(?) themes.

prev.

That night, Annabeth can't fall asleep.

(Percy can't either, because he can't stop thinking about Annabeth and how he thinks he saw her back there.)

What is Rachel to him?

Annabeth thinks. Her mind is something like a broken recordー stuck playing the question on repeat.

Not that she could judge, however, if Percy enjoyed her company more than hers, then that would be... Fine. Just fine. Rachel was probably more close to him after all these years unlike the blonde; who has been away for six years.

When Annabeth turns on her side to look at the shell seated stop her bedside table, she grimaces.

"You better make sure to return it!"

"I'll be waiting!"

Why does that make her frown?

The morning comes slow, slower than Annabeth would like, when the birds start chirping and evening comes to dawn after her sleep-deprived thoughts.

She knows that Percy's curled up inside his bed, (though certainly not the cabin he used to occupyー there's no one next door) snoring like he always does. She knows that Percy doesn't know that she's here, and Annabeth also knows that he'll be asleep until promptly one in the afternoon.

Annabeth thinks she'll meet him around sooner or later.

The lull of waves crashing across the shore gives her chills. Mornings, she now realizes, are the best part of the day.

The rose gold sun comes down in tiny slivers along the sand.

Percy is loyal. He's a great friend, much more than Annabeth deserves, witty and sarcastic.

Percy is not hers. He never was in the first place, really; him with his cocky smile and his big heart. That heart of his can only hold so much, can't it?

She starts to wonder if she's in there.

The shell in her pocket suddenly feels heavy when Annabeth reaches for it, the chipped and cracked coat somehow still intact. She'll give it to him when the time comes of course. Just not now. Annabeth couldn't even muster up the courage if she wanted to.

So, sandaled feet dug into the sand, she scans her surroundings.

At first glance the beach is beach is deserted, aside from a few lingering beach-goers that occupy the waves on their surfboards and the sand with their umbrellas.

It's quite tranquil on her ownー under the morning sun and all. She's been to beaches near her house back home,e but nothing can really beat this view.

Her eyes dart towards the ocean, where the surfers ride on the waves, laughing and cackling whenever one of their friends falls face-first into the cold waters. She laughs a bit, too, the scene reminds her of how she always used to fall when she was learning to surf.

Speaking of the surfers... They all look like they're having a blast. You know, Annabeth might start to think that the raven-haired guy looks like Percy, that he has the same smirk as him, but that's just illogical.

Right?

It's only until that they lock eyes is when Annabeth freezes.

Same sea green. Same sparkle.

Same Percy.

And it's only until he freezes, eyes widening and stopping to stare, is when she thinks Oh shit.

Then he's starting to come over, and her legs start moving on their own.

Away from him.

This can't be happening. It can't be. Not when she's not ready, when she's too nervous to even muster a word, not when Annabeth can't even look at him without her heart racing like never before.

She starts to walk faster. Not so fast that it looks suspicious, but fast as to escape his gaze and go back to her cabin.

Annabeth can hear him saying he needs to ‘do something' to his friends. Annabeth can also hear his surboard digging into the sand, as well as his footsteps getting closer and closer. So close, that she thinks it'll only be a few steps longer until he reaches her.

Fuck, fuck, fuck, Her thoughts get even more rapid, Can't the universe just wait for a second?

Annabeth completely shuts down when someone grabs her wrist.

"Annabeth?"

It takes so much to not year away, to not run, to not speak. It takes so much to turn her head and look at him, more, though, when his tone is the most heart melting thing she's heard in a long time. (good timing, really, and just when she's been trying to get all the feelings she holds for him.)

"Percy." She breathes out, eyes widening when she finally gets a good look of him.

He's... Grown.

His shoulders are broader. His hair, once unruly and messy, is exactly like in the previous pictures he's sent: Perfectly perfect and endearing. Annabeth notices that he towers over her figure quite a bitー what happened to the scrawny little Percy? Back then, she could easily look over him; but now? It's quite the opposite.

There’s an air around him, too, one that makes Annabeth gulp and her thoughts race.

Holy fuck.

Before she can let out a single word, she's engulfed into a bone crushing hug.

Thats pretty much when it all hits her.

Sure, he's wet and damp and smelling like saltwater and sweat, but she can't really pay any mind to that. Percy's warm. His touch is soft, gentle, just as Annabeth remembers.

Why was she avoiding him in the first place?

Just when she thinks that it's fineー that she will not tear up over something like thisー her body betrays her and she starts to sink further, further into the hug.

Is she tearing up right now?

"I missed you," Percy mumbles against her head in a way that makes her heart pound dangerously against her rib cage. “So much.”

So just like that, Annabeth nearly falls for him all over again.

"You dumbass!" She pushes him off, hands fumbling through her pockets. "I m-missed you more." Hands come to wipe at her fresh tears.

“H-here!” Annabeth sniffs as she hands him the one thing her mind has been lingering on non-stop: the shell.

He, blurry eyed and open mouthed, looks taken aback. For a second she thinks that he might be angry. That is, until he smiles.

“You kept it?” Percy asks. It's almost like he can't really believe it, like he didn't really expect her to keep it.

"Of course I did, seaweed brain,” She gives a lopsided toothy smile. It doesn't really match her flushed face, but who's paying attention to that?

When he looks at it fondly in his hands, Percy smiles to himself. “Its been too long, wisegirl." He looks her up and down. “You’ve changed."

She raises a eyebrow. "Like in a bad way?"

“N-no!” He's quick to correct himself. His looks the other way, trying to discreetly hide his blush. "No. Like i-in a... uhm- fuck." Percy covers his face.

"You've changed too.” Annabeth grins. “In a good way."

They smile each other for a second before someone from the shore line calls out Percy's name. He whips around, scowl growing on his face.

"I'll be back soon!" Percy rolls his eyes. He then turns to her.

"We should catch up," he says frantically, thoughts running on overdrive, "Have you been downtown yet? I'm staying at a new cabin a while away from hereー I'll take you there soon. Oh! And have you been to our spot? We can visit there later if you want.”

Annabeth cringes when the words fall from his lips. Our spot. She chews on her bottom lip. She can't really blame him for taking someone up there. Not even if she wanted to.

The rest of the day, and the next day after that, is bittersweet.

"I-Id be happy to.”

The sweetness is seeing Sally again. It's eating her famous blue cookies with Percy wearing bright smiles and her sporting the new sweater Sally crocheted. It's surfing for hours on end, it's playing with their dogs and meeting Mrs. O'Leary.

The sweetness is being with Percy once again; even if she does cringe when they go to their spot again.

The bitter, on the other hand, is meeting her.

Rachel.

Don't get her wrong. Annabeth was never much of a possessive or jealous person; and she still is not. She's level-headed, logical, and observative. Rachel is... Fine. She's crafty, Annabeth can tell by her paint-stained clothing and wry smile. She's pretty cool too. Rachel doesn't seem to have much of a problem getting along with her, so why does she feel so off about her?

"I'm Rachel," Annabeth remembers her smile quite clearly: It didn't quite reach her eyes. Or maybe Annabeth was just over-analyzing things? "It's nice to meet you, Annabeth!"

"Likewise." Annabeth gave a small smile. “Percy’s told me a lot about you."

“Oh, has he?” She giggled, "Well, I hope it's all good things." Rachel gave a teasing look towards Percy.

Now thinking about it, Annabeth might have been a teeny-bit judgy.

Percy, munching on a blue cookie, looks at her from his spot in his room. He narrows his eyes at her.

"I couldn't help but notice," He starts, as if reading her mind. "That you were a little on edge about Rachel.”

"Was I now?” She lazily questions, head hanging off his bed.

“I think so." Percy hums.

"I was not," Annabeth scoffs. “I was just... Cautious."

"What's there to be cautious about?” He asks, spinning three times on the chair near his desk. He pauses to let the dizziness swirl his vision before coming back to look at her. the dog beside him, Mrs. O'Leary wags her tail lazily.

She sighs. "Nothing, I guess? It's just... Y'know what? Nevermind.”

"Spit it out.”

"No!”

"Yes!”

“No!”

“I’ll make you a container of blue cookies for the next three days?"

"...Fine!" Annabeth breathes after a beat.

She stretchesh her arms high above above her head. “What... W-what is she to you?”

Percy freezes, and she instantly goes into a panicky state. “Actually- Ignore that. Thats a stupid question so you don't need to answer, I just really-”

“Aww, is my little Annie jealous?" He unironicaly coos, “Don’t worry about it. Rachel's great."

Annabeth notices that Percy says her name in a intimate way. She notices how heat instantly flushes her face. She also notices that how he never answers her question in a way she'll understand.

Now that she's left hanging, Annabeth really can't stop more questions from flowing in her mind.

Annabeth thinks that she's really been underreacting about Percy and his air of coolness. or maybe likeability?

Her arms flop down, and Mrs. O'Leary woofs.

Popularity?

Whatever it is, anyone can tell that Percy's much more than the dorky lame kid that used to be.

The group of girls that giggle and twirl their hair as they stare at him from their spot under an umbrella can surely see that, too.

It's not even those girls (who for the fact are pretty, much prettier than Annabeth) that can see that. Her neighbours talk about the 'handsome and nice young man that helped me carry my groceries'. (Guilty as chargedー the one and only Percy) or the 'Attractive boy who surfs early in the morning'.

The grannies at downtown's farmers market even gossip behind his back and treat him like some sort of Greek god with a perfectly structured jawline with a fit build and coy smile.

Oh, and did she mention he's as hot as the fucking sun?

(Which he, Annabeth thinks, owns up to.)

(She's really whipped for him.)

But he's respected her boundaries so far, so she'll keep her M rated thoughts to herself. But it's so fucking hard to not stare when he, clad in nothing but loose swimming shorts, shows up to her room at the crack of dawn.

"Looks like you're the talk of the town," Annabeth says teasingly as they settle into the sand. The umbrella provides the cool shade desperately need, to which Annabeth relishes in. “Is seaweed brain..." She feigns a fake gasp. “Actually likeable now?”

Percy threatens to shove a handful of sand down her throat, and she shuts up.

"Whatever," He mutters under his breath, eyes looking away from hers. For some reason he's avoiding looking at her. Annabeth thinks he's just embarrassed, but the way Percy steals glances at her when she's not looking, says otherwise.

"So where's Rachel?” She absent-mindedly asks. Not that she genuinely cares, or whatever, but theres really nothing else that occupies her mind.

“Around,” He replies. "She told me she's going shopping in the next town for some swimsuits. Or something.”

"Ah."

A seagull screeches from above.

“Wanna see who gets in the water first?"

Annabeth already jolts upwards into a sprint towards the shoreline. "Hey! No fair!”

So the next while is spent with nothing but firendly smiles and secretive glances from Percy, surfing and swimming and having the most fun they've had together in a while. Annabeth grabs his ankle from under the waves, and she thinks that that might be the loudest scream she's ever heard.

Percy, mind stuck with thoughts on revenge, tried to come up with a scare of his own, until his lame scare comes out as throwing a peice of seaweed on her forehead.

“Lameass!" She laughs, popping her head above the water.

“Smartass!” He yells back, eye twitching and tone sarcastic.

It isn't until the sun sets and the crabs crawl back into their caves is when they both flop back into the sand. Tired. Exhausted. Muscles sore and skin sunburnt.

For a solid thirty minutes it's just comftorable silence as the waves set the soundtrack. Along with the occasisonal him of the ocean, or even the cries of the cicadas back where the beach grass is.

For a solid thirty minutes, Annabeth thinks that she couldn't be more happier.

For a solid thirty minutes, all is calm, all is well, and nothing could be more perfect.

She closes her eyes for a minute thinking that she can spare one nap. Thinking that Percy will just wake me up, so it's fine if I snooze off, right?

Annabeth dozes off with thoughts of him.

When she wakes up, Pery isn't beside her.

Nor is he on the beach.

For a hot minute Annabeth freaks out, squinting through the darkness to search for his figure. The lantern her doesn't really provide much light, let alone three feet away from her.

But then she sees that his surfboard isn't wedged into the ground, and his things are still there.

So where is he?

Oh. Annabeth thinks lamely to herself when she spots the figure swaying with the waves atop his surfboard. There he is.

It's illogical, really, for her to go after him.

If you don't go, that Rachel girl's got him forever, her head prods, you'll lose him forever.

It's even more illogical when Annabeth grabs her surfboard with a determined look; sandy hair and all.

The waves are calm tonight. No huge crashing of the chilled water, no raging seas or bitterly cold air. The clouds enclose the pale moon, only tiny beams managing to escape. She thinks it casts a blue hue to everything.

Using her arm to paddle her way over, Annabeth catches a glimpse at the stars.

Gods, the stars.

They're brightー brighter than the city that isー and bigger, too. They shine in a way that leaves Annabeth breathless.

Percy hums when she closes in next to him. His limbs dangle off of the surfboard and into the cool waters, occasionally shifting to keep steady. She hums back in reply.

A small wave laps across the shore.

“That's Perseus.” Annabeth says lazily. She lays down, too, hair splayed across the board. "The constellation, I mean.”

“Perseus, huh?" Percy follows where she points: diagonal from the pair. “Like my name?"

"Like the Greek hero Perseus.” She murmurs quietly.

“You've told me about him." He recalls, "He slayed Medusa and saved Andromeda, right?"

"Mhm," Annabeth nods. "He also had a happy ending. That is, for most Greek heroes.”

She smiles to herself, and Percy can't really think of anything more beautiful than her.

Believe it or not, Percy is good at hiding things.

Like when he hides the secret stash of snacks under his bed from his mom, (for three years straight and running) or when he hid Mrs. O'Leary when she was just a pup in his closet.

He likes to think that he's good at hiding his feelings too.

Feelings about Annabeth, of course.

Not that he really has anything for herー it's just that whenever he sees her he gets a fluttery feeling in his stomach, his voice gets all awkward, his mind instantly goes to how fucking gorgeous she looks, and how she practically radiates coolness and calm.

Okay. So what if he's head over heels for her?

Percy thinks it started a while ago.

He thinks it started when Rachel first called him seaweed brain.

“-Seaweed brain,” it falls from her lips on a warm spring day, when they're sitting in his room while it rains.

Percy freezes to look at her. "What?"

“I said It raining cats and dogs out there,” Rachel repeats, “Seaweed brain."

When she catches the slightly shocked look on his face, she frowns. “Something wrong?”

"No,” He murmurs, looking down. "Actually- kinda. that nickname just threw me off a bit, I guess.” Percy give a lopsided smile.

Annabeth only calls me that, he thinks. It feels weird when you say it.

“Oh." She deadpans. “Should I not call you that then? I saw that Annabeth girl call you that, like, a ton of times in one of her letters.” Her eyebrows raise, and Percy reels.

“You were reading my letters?" He frowns. “...Whatever. The nickname- its kind of a personal thing. You know, between me and, uh... her. It'd be cool if you didn't say it.”

“Oh. Okay.” Rachel huffs.

Somehow, Percy never labeled it as love.

Percy didn't label it as love when Annabeth became the ‘nothing!' that came out of his mouth when Sally asked why he was smiling so much. Not when he couldn't stop staring at her in her swecause fuck, she looks so good. Not when Percy was confused on why his love for her became something more.

But that night, that one single night, when Annabeth came to join him under the stars, is when he thought otherwise.

With sunkissed sunburnt skin,

lips cracked and dry,

moonlight against her face,

The last day of Annabeth's vacation comes on a sunny humid day with the clouds nowhere to be seen.

He did label it love.

There isn't an air of despair, however, Annabeth'll be back next year for a solid week in winter. College would be a pain, so she'll have one last vacation with her family before she starts her career.

For some reason Percy isn't sad when the news comes to him on her college. New Rome, a prestigious school in the middle of both their cities. All he gives is a coy grin; she can't wrap her mind around hit quite yet.

"You got plans tonight?” Percy asks suddenly, his voice echoing through Annabeth's room.

“No.” She tilts her head. “Why? Got something planned?"

“Yeah, actually.” He grins. “We're going to a party of a friend of mine.”

“What?" Annabeth nearly falls off her bed, eyes widened and mouth agape. A party? Tonight?

“Yup! You better get ready, 'cuz we're leaving in...” Percy checks the clock on her bed side table. "Two hours. See ya!" Is all he says before he hopes out of her window.

Annabeth nearly screams, but remembers that he's been climbing and jumping out of her window for years now. she lets out a ragged sigh of relief.

"Fuck you!” She yells out to his figure, already dashing away. He turns around, sly smirk on his face.

“Only if you watch!"

And then he's gone, leaving Annabeth with a red hot face and a flustered mess.

Fuck.

The next two hours is- um, well...

Chaotic.

Just plain chaotic.

Her who closet is thrown into her bed in a contemplation what to wear. Light or dark? Whats the occasion? How much people are attending? What's the setting?

You're overthinking things again, Annabeth's mind jolts. Just throw something on!

Along with chaotic, she would also describe the scene as a fever dream.

She opts to wear a black bodycon dress with stringy ties and a loose and light jacket. Annabeth can't really deceive the rest of her look- her mind is all gushy and mushy.

So here she is, standing in front of the booming house, (Percy didn't even bother to drive here there, the jerk) hands fidgeting like she can't stop.

(She can't.)

Annabeth takes a deep breath. She won't be here for a while, so whats she so afraid about? Sure, there's somone puking in a bush that she wants no part in, and there might be concerning sounds coming from inside the huge building, but who's paying attention to that?

Before she can back out, a voice calls out her name.

"Wisegirl!" Percy beams, “Hey!”

“Seaweed brain.” Annabeth crosses her arms as a her bottom lip juts out. "We're were you?"

“Lets not focus on that." He nervously laughs. “But c'mon inside. I want you to meet a few people.”

"Hm?”

The house is just as bad as she thought.

Red Solo cups everywhere, the smell of alcohol and cigarettes especially strong near the kitchen and couches. Bodies bump into her here and there like some sort of mosh pit. They don't even apologize, instead murmuring something with a tipsy tone.

"Grover!" Percy calls a guy over. "Don't you remember Annabeth?”

"Annabeth?" Grover, what she can assume is his friend, looks over to them. His eyes light up when he meets her gaze.

"It's been a while!" Annabeth smiles. Grover! It's been a minute since she's seen him, back when they were all kids. She fondly remembers beach trips with him back then, eating popsicles on her cabin stairs and all.

“It certainly has,” He sighs happily.

Percy then introduces her to many others: Hazel, a bright girl with a even brighter smile, Frank, a towering guy with a friendly touch, Jasonー a blonde guy with a oddly stapler shaped scar on his lip, Piper, a bubbly girl with a flirtatious smile.

She'd go on about more of them, but at that point Annabeth would be rambling.

"Have you seen Percy around?" Annabeth asks to Grover when she loses him in the bustling crowd.

He nods his head no, and someone tugs on her arm.

“C'monnnn," A girl she met earlier drunkenly tugs harder, “We’re playing truth or dare downstairs!"

She wants do pull away, say no, but then Annabeth spots him in the crowd with people slung around him.

By the looks of it, they're flirting with him, words forming and lips ruling into flirtatious smiles. They touch him in ways that make her cringe.

Annabeth hates herself for frowning and continuing to stare. The worst part, thinks, is that he's not trying to pull away. Nor is he denying their actions. In fact, he's indulging in it.

Shit. She shouldn't be thinking this way. Percy's popular and nice. He's bound to attract a few people, and he's not hers.

Annabeth was never the jealous type, but for now she can let the horriblefeeling in her stomach slide just this once.

She accepts the girl's prodding with a feignged smile.

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mister-supernova · 4 years

Text

Please Don’t Go

Part 1

Pairing: Hope Mikaelson x Reader

Just when you felt like you were on top of the world, you slowly started to feel yourself sinking towards the ground. Your knees gave out beneath you seconds after Hope and MG left the basement. Thankfully Lizzie was there to slow your fall and she guided you back to your original sitting spot from earlier.

With the infection worsening, you thought to yourself that you’d give anything to have Hope back here by your side. That way your mind wouldn’t be completely focused on the pain.

The poison from the bullet began to travel all over your back, across your arms, around your neck, and it was quickly starting to blur your vision as well. You didn’t need a mirror to know that you probably looked as grey and sickly as Josie did.

From your spot against the wall, you could see that the witches must’ve gotten their powers back given that Lizzie could siphon now. You watched her desperately try to pull the magic out of the bullets that were poisoning you and her sister, but there wasn’t any progress made. Josie still looked like death and you were catching up.

Nothing they were saying could reach you from across the cell. Just like your vision, your hearing was feeling fuzzy, making anything the twins were saying to each other sound like a muffled mess of words.

A little later on, you saw the two of them stand and leave the cell for a few minutes. You figured it was because they wanted to help the school.

As much as you wanted to join them, you couldn’t move any of your limbs without them feeling like they were on fire and your head was pounding, making it more difficult to even focus on trying to move.

Now it was getting harder to catch your breath. You were struggling to keep your eyelids open because it felt like they were being weighed down by a ton of bricks. 95% of the saliva in your mouth had dried up, making your lips more chapped than you were used to and your throat drier than the Sahara Desert, and you were sweating worse than you do on full moons.

The bullets couldn’t be siphoned out of you, the poison couldn’t be removed, and you were quickly coming to the realization that neither you or Josie had any chances of surviving through the night.

“I’m sorry, Hope,” you manage to sputter out, “I don’t think I can win this one.” You squeeze your hand into a fist, wishing that Hope’s was there to squeeze it back and give you her assurance that you were going to be okay.

“Now I know that the Y/n L/n isn’t giving up just like that.” A familiar voice echoes through your head.

You didn’t have to think twice to know that it was Hope’s voice you were hearing. Even though your perception of time has been feeling off, you knew that there was no way she was back at the school already.

You open your eyes just to be sure, but to your surprise a blurry figure of what looked to be Hope was sitting right by your side just as she was before leaving to save Landon.

“Well, I doubt hearing voices and seeing people who aren’t really here is a good sign for me.”

“Says who?” She shrugs at you exactly as you would to her.

“Says every movie where a person is on the brink of death. They always see delusions before they...” you didn’t want to say it, “you know.”

“So you’re finally admitting that you’re delusional? It’s about time.”

You let out a weak chuckle, “They’re usually just figures of their subconscious as well, so the unusual sense of humor makes sense.”

She scoffs, “See, now that’s just rude. How do you know your sense of humor didn’t just rub off on me, huh?”

“No offense, but Hope wouldn’t normally be so comedic before my time of death.”

“So you’d prefer me to be a little more emotional then?”

You shake your head, “No, this Hope is fine actually. It’s comforting considering you’re just a figment of my imagination.”

She gives you a soft smile and though you know she isn’t really here, it sets your mind at ease, “Good because I wasn’t going to be able to burst into tears anyways.”

You smile back and avert your gaze to the stone floor, seeing her hand placed so close to yours. You were wanting more than anything to reach over and really feel her here with you.

“I’m tired, Hope,” you say softly, feeling your eyes burn the longer you kept them open.

“Just fight for a little while longer,” she moves her face to where it’s inches away from yours, “You know I’ll be back any minute.”

You scan the blurred features on her face, taking them all in like it would be the last time you’d ever get to see them, “I’ll just close my eyes for a little while. Wake me up when you get here.”

“Y/n...” you could hear her voice drifting away as you began to nod off.

You weren’t sure how much time passed before Kaleb and MG came running back down to help you up. It felt like you had dozed off for five minutes, but who knows how long you were really knocked out for. You were surprised to open your eyes and find that you were still breathing.

“Come on, we need to move you to your room.” MG took you by one arm while Kaleb grabbed another.

“Where’s Hope?” You muttered weakly, letting your head roll forward since it felt like a bowling ball to keep up, “Is everyone okay?”

“She’s not back yet, but the school is safe now. We also have something that will make you feel better. Just a little farther.”

The boys carefully and urgently used their vampire speed to guide you into your dorm before setting you down on your bed. When the air conditioner began hitting you directly, you felt even colder than you did in the basement where there was little to no AC. Chills ran throughout your whole body and you tried your best to keep yourself from shivering, but failed to do so.

“Here, Y/n. Drink this. Slowly.” MG uncaps a vial of blood and before you could question it, you felt the metallic liquid coax the inside of your mouth. You let small drops of it fall down your throat so that you wouldn’t choke and within seconds you felt yourself start to feel better.

“Why did I just drink blood?” You ask, feeling your energy slowly begin to return, “And whose was it?” You knew that vampire blood could heal those who are injured, but from what the Triad agents said, the bullet would tear you up from the inside out. Nothing should’ve healed you or Josie.

“It’s Hope’s. She told Dr. Saltzman that it would help heal you and Jo,” MG explains, “He gave her a vial not too long ago and she’s almost fully healed already.”

Though you still had many questions as to how that was possible, your only concern now was Hope coming back home.

You wished that you had the strength to go with her when she left, but doubted that she would’ve let you because of A; the unstable condition you were in, and B; there was no way she was going to let you get hurt again by taking you to the Malivore pit.

After another thirty minutes passed you were back to your normal and healthy self. Then later that evening, Dr. Saltzman called a meeting and confessed that the artifact that drained the witches’ powers was brought in by him.

The parents were the only other people who were made aware of it. That was how MG’s mom knew about it and used it against the students. He explained that it was only supposed to be used if things at the school were bad, but instead it put all the students in danger and nearly killed two of you.

The honor council would now be deciding what your headmaster’s fate was going to be and if you were honest, you hoped they weren’t going to let him stay. Yeah, Josie represents the witches and that’s her father, but what happened was caused by him and you believed that deserved some sort of consequence.

You weren’t in the honor council and there wasn’t much to do at the school except wait for Hope to get back to cast her vote. You imagined that she got to the Malivore pit a little while after the school assembly and that she just finished kicking whatever monster’s ass that was in her way and destroyed the pit for good.

Her and Landon would be driving back to Mystic Falls any minute now and you could see her beautiful tribrid face again. You couldn’t wait to see the look on her face when she sees that you’re okay or for the tight and possibly bone crushing hug that would follow.

A smile crept across your face at the thought of your first kiss and the fact that you’d be alive to do it again. Out of all the crazy beautiful and handsome students at this school, the tribrid liked you. Something about that felt so unbelievably bizarre but also super incredible.

As you lay with your back against your bed, thinking about how chaotic this day has been, you were about to realize that things were going to get even worse.

Your phone began to ring on the nightstand, causing you to sit up and crawl over to see that the caller ID was Hope’s.

She must be calling to let me know they’re on their way back, you thought.

“Let me guess, you had to fight off a horde of gremlins, you ‘incendiad’ the hell out of them and saved the day once again.” You smile confidently as you answer the phone.

“Not exactly,” Hope laughs nervously and you could hear a hint of pain in her voice, “I take it by your upbeat wittiness that you’re feeling better?”

“Yeah, your blood worked absolute wonders, Mikaelson. How did you know it would heal us?”

“I didn’t realize it at first, but I was shot by one of the Malivore bullets, too. Only, I healed when you two didn’t.”

Your smile begins to fade, “How is that possible?”

“Because Malivore was created by the blood of a werewolf, a witch, and a vampire. Which means one more thing… and I don’t think you’re going to like it.”

The other end of the call was silent, but you could hear Hope’s breathing begin to shake. “Hope, is everything okay?” You felt your heart slowly making its way up your throat.

“Y/n, Clarke found the final artifact and threw it into the pit. Malivore is going to rise at any minute unless I stop him.”

“And how do you plan on doing that, Hope? Where’s Landon? Is he there to help you?” You stood up, preparing yourself to ask MG to run you all the way to Fort Valley right now.

“I kind of snapped his neck, but he’ll be back. I couldn’t let him stop me from doing what I’m about to do.” You slowly felt yourself begin to panic.

“What are you about to do?” Her silence was the only answer you needed.

If Malivore was created by a witch, a vampire, and a werewolf, that could only mean one thing.

You let out a shaky sigh, “Hope, you’re not jumping into that pit.”

“Don’t you get it, Y/n? This is what I was meant to do. This is the whole reason why I was born, why my father sacrificed himself for me. I’m not some cosmic mistake without a purpose. I know that now and I know what I have to do.” Your throat knotted up tightly and an ugly feeling filled your stomach.

“No, Hope. Your father sacrificed himself so that he could live your life, so that you could be happy, not for you to jump into a mudpit where your family and friends will forget who you are forever.” You wished that she wasn’t so damn far away. You wanted to go help her, but you felt so useless.

“I have to do this. We don’t have time to come up with another solution.”

“Just come back!” you say desperately, “We’ll rally up the students, we can help fight Malivore or something. We can think of something, anything, just please don’t leave.”

You hardly ever begged for anything in your life, but you did not want to lose Hope.

“You… you said you’d be back, Hope. So just please, please come back.” Your voice softened as your throat tightened even more and tears built up in your eyes.

“In a few minutes you won’t even remember who I am.” That’s what broke you.

You didn’t want to forget Hope. You didn’t want to forget the sound of her laugh after one of your jokes, or her victorious smile after beating you in a spar session, or the way her eyes rolled when you’d say something sarcastic, or the proud look on her face after finishing another amazing painting.

“I already told Dr. Saltzman to get rid of all of my things. I’m sorry, Y/n,” you could tell that Hope was holding herself back from crying by the wavering tone in her voice, “I wish things were different and that we had more time. I have to go.”

“Hope,” you try calling out to her, but you were only met with a dial tone. You throw your phone onto your bed, frustrated and broken-hearted.

In mere moments from now, you would have no memories of the tribrid you had fallen in love with. She would cease to exist in your mind and there was nothing you could do to stop it... or was there?

sorry this took me longer to post than i expected to... i’ve been caught up with school and kept forgetting to add part 2, but thank you all for the love on part 1 and i’ll see ya again for part 3! <3

taglist: @chicken-wang09

#hope mikaelson #hope mikaelson x reader #hope mikaelson imagine #legacies cw #legacies imagine #legacies x reader #Legacies

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anika-ann · 4 years

Text

The Best Mistake of My Life - Pt.1

Type: One-shot/ch1 of a series

Pairing: Steve Rogers x reader Word count: 4100

Summary: A soulmate AU. They say having a soulmate is a blessing. Who wouldn’t love the idea of star-crossed lovers, right?

Neither Steve Rogers nor you consider yourself lucky though. It probably has something to do with the lines written on your skin. Because if the words are anything to go by, you’re not sure you want to meet each other.

Warnings: swearing, light angst, FLUFF

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Steve Rogers was born a sickly baby.

Born a sickly boy to a single mother in the time of great depression, money thin, his health even thinner and having a pathetic number of friends; though that never really bothered him. What his friendships lacked in quantity was hundred times compensated by quality. Bucky Barnes’ loyalty was everything Steve could ask for.

And what Steven Grant Rogers himself lacked in height and strength of body was made up for by the strength of will, amount of determination and a great compassionate heart, ready to welcome anyone sans bullies there.

Perhaps God had seen that Steven would grow into a man carrying his heart on his sleeve and decided that this man should be blessed with a love so magnificent they would tell stories about it; people always had. People were always telling tales about soulmates.

Having a soulmate wasn’t necessarily rare, but not everyone was bound to have one. Being one of the lucky ones was an amazing gift; a promise of a connection as unbreakable as the thread of fate, a promise of an unconditional love.

To know person had found the one, their soulmate, those who were blessed with one wore a brand on their skin, a clue to allow them to recognize their destined partner; a set of words.

It was the set of words what was troubling Steve Rogers the most. Despite Bucky’s reassurance, despite his mother’s last words, despite Steve willingness to fight everything else the world would kick into his way, he found moments in his life he cursed the words written on his skin, reminding him how weak he would always seem to people.

Above the visible line of his collarbone, sticking out on his rather skeletal frame, there sat the words of doom:

‘Oh no, there must be a mistake.’

The very first time his soulmate would spoke to him… they would be disappointed and silently praying that whatever force was behind bounding souls together made one hell of a misstep. A mistake.

That was what Steve was going to be to his soulmate; a mistake. A failure. A disappointment.

And why wouldn’t he be? Ninety pounds of rattling bones, list of illnesses longer than his birth certificate…. Every girl Bucky had ever tried to set him up with out of pity (which Bucky would deny until his last breath) had been disappointed.

“Maybe she’ll be more into brunettes. Maybe she won’t believe her soulmate is blond at first,” his friend would say, “or she’ll be from Queens and wouldn’t get over the fact you’re not, but once you’ll show her the true Brooklyn charm, she’ll fall to your feet.”

Then he would always pat Steve’s shoulder, pulling him into a one-arm hug and tried to get him a date once more.

Steve didn’t believe him. He never did, but recognizing his friend felt better if Steve played along, he would smile and poke his ribs in return.

“Whatever you say. Jerk.”

…

Much later, when he said to Peggy Carter that he was waiting for the right partner to dance with, he was starting to admit to himself that he wasn’t thinking about his so-called soulmate as the one. After all, he went against all odds, against rules, against destiny itself when he had been accepted to the army regardless of his fragile body. Maybe, just maybe it meant that not ending up with his soulmate was what would happen one day.

When he crushed the Valkyrie to the ocean, not even having taken a chance on Peggy Carter despite her obvious interest, he must admit he had been lying to himself.

His last realization concerned his soulmate; despite wanting to fight against the whole world, he couldn’t make himself to take a chance on Peggy Carter, a brilliant woman who was not carrying the right set of words.

His last regret was that he would never meet his true love.

His last thought was that maybe, his soulmate never had a set of words spoken by him on her skin – her first words to him might as well be the ones spoken when reading his obituary, somehow knowing he was supposed to belong with her.

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The moment you were old enough to understand the meaning of the word ‘soulmate’, you were intrigued by the concept; it probably had everything to do with the fact that you too were supposed to have a person meant to be your other half.

Every parent was bound to be delighted when their child was born with that kind of blessing, but the older you were getting, the more you understood what kind of a shock might occur when a kid had rather strange line supposedly spoken to them by their universe-chosen partner for life.

There were people who had words like ‘shit’ on them; literally. Not very delightful. Sometimes there were general lines like ‘Hello, how are you?”. Good luck hunting down the right person. In contrary, some people had a name on them; ‘Hi, I’m Peter Cameron.’ Lucky bastards.

And then… then there were people like you, whose words were just… weird.

“But I really am 95,” you mumbled under your breath, tracing the handwriting right under your collarbone subconsciously, the first thing you did in the morning if you remembered – which wasn’t every day, not by a long shot.

“This is the stupidest thing ever…”

You shook your head and started to get ready for your day at the office.

Your opinion on your soulmark had been changing during the years. You had had a period of fascination, simply being proud of carrying it. Then you had understood the meaning of your words, and you had been horrified and desperate at the idea of meeting your soulmate at such age or worse, having one that old while you would be thirty or something when encountering them.

Then had come the phase of how could I avoid having a grandpa as my soulmate. Maybe the number meant something different – your soulmate’s weight (you really wouldn’t care for that, you reasoned), his temperature (he might be hypothermic at the moment, no?), his hotel room number, the number of a seat in a theatre perhaps… there were so many possibilities, right?

Now, you just tried not to think about it too hard. You had had boyfriends, never lasting longer than few months sans the one exception of George, who had turned out to be the biggest asshole in the world despite your belief he had might have been the one; until you had caught him in bed with another girl.

Maybe it was that deep inside you had never believed in the relationships you had, because the guy never said the right first words. Or maybe you were full of shit and you couldn’t keep a guy interested, god only knew – hence not thinking about it too hard, going on with your life and taking it as it was.

You might meet him, you might not. It wouldn’t be the first case of never encountering a soulmate. Life was funny that way.

Best not to let it ruin your day. A rather nice day it was, today. If you only didn’t have to spend it in the crowded office with people demanding their licences and taking out their frustrations on you. Well. You were a grown-up; you had to be okay with things not always being okay. Which sucked. But that was life.

…

You had a chance to have a shortest coffee break to exchange ‘hello’s with Ryan – your actual favourite person in the world, your platonic ‘soulmate’ (not in the ominous sense of the word), your boss who never really acted like a boss – and that was it. Apparently, half of Manhattan had gotten their licence this very date years back, so the office was ridiculously crowded. Thank god for the glass between you and the jungle; it shielded you at least partly.

You grabbed the file of request no. 57 that day – you were like a machine, okay, you couldn’t remember the office ever managing to deal with so many in only three hours – pulling out the documents and the licence to make another driver happy.

Your hands were acting on autopilot and you didn’t even glance up when an ID was pushed to you through the small space between the glass and the counter, checking the renewed licence first.

Your first thought was ‘oh wow’. That guy on the photo was gorgeous. You couldn’t help but snap your head up, checking out the real-life thing.

OH WOW.

Scratch the ‘gorgeous’. Replace it with ‘unreal’.

You were tempted to ask if he was made by an ancient sculptor and then brought to life, because his body was as incredible as his face; the broadness of his shoulders begged for a touch. His muscular arms were not so hidden in the sleeves of his dark green shirt. The shoulder-waist ratio was clearly a God’s mistake, a one you were thankful for.

Forget ancient sculptures. His face must have been sculptures by angels and they left him with a halo of blond hair as a reminder. And his eyes. Oh god, such pretty eyes…

He gave you an unsure smile, opening his mouth to probably accuse you of staring and you quickly dropped your gaze, returning to check the licence before you would give it to him.

Your hand froze hovering above the date of birth. You hesitantly looked up again, biting your lip guiltily despite not being the one who had messed up. You felt kinda sorry for him waiting the line for nothing.

“Oh no, there must be a mistake…” you half apologized, half said only to yourself, meeting his suddenly alarmed gaze.

You put on your most apologetic face, hoping he wouldn’t be too mad. How had someone messed it up again? The birth dates were with typos all the time. How?! There were only numbers for God’s sake! It wasn’t like the person inserting the data to the computer had to spell Buchwald or Mxyzptlk or something like that!

Damn you, Sheryl or Kira or you whoever have done this!

The man – Steven Grant Rogers, as you had learned from his sadly valueless driving licence – was staring at you, speechless. You were honestly getting worried, though you weren’t sure if you were more scared for him or for yourself in case of his reaction escalating.

So you went to explain.

“Uhm… I’m really sorry, mister-“ You quickly eyed the name ID he had given you, checking if the office got the name right at least. “-Rogers, but there seems to be a typo in… in your birth date. I apologize for the mistake our institution made, even though I wasn’t the one to-- you don’t need to know that, it doesn’t matter-- I’m so sorry you have to come here again, but I can’t really let you walk around or rather drive around with a licence claiming you were born in 1918, so…”

You had become so flustered, your cheeks burning, talking and talking without being able to stop, not making any sense even, until-

“But I really am 95,” he admitted sheepishly and you wanted to laugh at the ridiculousness of that statement, when something in your brain clicked.

The click was about as loud as an atomic bomb falling on Hiroshima. You were sure everyone had to hear it.

It shut you up immediately. Your whole body froze, your mind buzzing uselessly, not a single thought staying long enough for you to actually understand it. Until two words got stuck, shining in red letters like a neon sign in your brain.

Holy. Shit.

“Excuse me,” you squeaked, grabbing his useless licence and mechanically rising from your seat, walking away.

The moment no one could see you as you got into a hallway, you broke into a run. You acted on instinct. You ran and you ended up in front of Ryan’s office, stumbling in without knocking and without an atom of oxygen left in your lungs.

Ryan’s neatly combed hair swayed as he snapped his head to the door, his eyes strict until they took the newcomer – hint: you – in, widening instantly.

He quickly jumped to his feet, pacing to you.

“Hey, hey, what’s wrong?” he asked, voice filled with worries.

You weren’t able to answer, because—holy shit. Your eyes frantically scanned the room, unable to meet your friend’s gaze. “I-- I-“

A hand landed on your shoulder, your eyes immediately falling on it on instinct. Shit, you couldn’t breathe. Could you?

Ryan’s free hand found you chin, tilting your head so you faced him. “Hey, baby, look at me! What happened? Was someone too much of an asshole to you?”

“I’m not-- he’s-“

Ryan’s face screamed concern, but he had fixed it in a second, soothing smile on his lips. He led you to his sofa, the calming blue cushions enveloping you.

“Sit down on your ass and gimme that,” he maneuverer the document off the steely grip of your fingers, sitting next to you as he looked it over. “Huh, quite a looker this guy. So what did he do?“

“I—the- the licence says he was born in---in 1918,” you stammered, finally able to breathe in properly and speak.

Ryan squinted at the date and then rolled his eyes.

“Oh jeez, again? Why is it so hard to just get it right? I swear I’m gonna have to fire Sheryl, she’s a disaster. What’s wrong with her? It’s not like they would be making a licence for someone that old! There’s a photo goddammit!”

“Ry-Ry… he said he was 95.”

Another eye-roll was his answer. “Yeah, I can count. He would have been if he was born in 1918 instead of 1981.”

“No, you don’t-“ you licked your lips and swallowed against the lump that grew in your throat. Your voice was as shake as your hands. “He just told me that. That he really was 95.”

Your friend observed you silently for a beat, not following. And then realization hit him like a train.

“Oh. OH. No shit?!”

It was your turn to stare silently, your mind loud enough to make noise and fill the space of Ryan office.

“Damn, does he really look like that? Lucky bitch!”

“Ryan!” you yelped in surprise when his fist bumped your shoulder, almost knocking you off balance.

It worked though. It grounded you and threw you back to reality. You tried your best to calm your breathing, but damn. This guy… he was your soulmate. You just met your soulmate. And he wasn’t a grandpa. He didn’t weight 95 pounds either. You weren’t in a hotel, neither in a theatre.

No. The number was only about one tiny mistake— oh, ohhh shit, what was the first thing you had said to him? Oh fuck. Way to go, girl!

“Are you okay?” Ryan asked rubbing the spot he had punched.

“No!” you shot back immediately, your mind racing.

“You know what I mean. You look better now. Though I gotta say, so is he. His face really is quite easy on the eyes. How about the rest of him?”

Ry-Ry, your bi-side is showing.

You chuckled at the easy talk, the tension from your shoulders falling a bit.

“Well… yeah, he’s like a model. So out of my league…” you muttered, remembering your ogling. This guy was your soulmate? Wasn’t it a mistake?

Ryan was suspiciously quiet; normally you would expect him to scold you for selling yourself short. Instead, he was staring at the licence, his lips parted in silent shock.

What now?

“What?” you demanded, following his line of gaze.

Ryan just chuckled, the incredulous sound ringing, echoing in the quiet space. “Girl, I hate to break it to you, but I might not fire Sheryl just yet.”

Your eyebrows shot up. “What?”

“Remember that one time aliens were falling from the sky?”

You blinked in surprise at that question, not following his train of thoughts. “Uhm… yeah? Pretty hard to forget that…?”

You were lucky you hadn’t been smashed under a building that day. Many people in Manhattan were, some sadly not. So yeah, you remembered.

“You remember the waitress from the café talking after the incident?”

“Oh my god, Ry-Ry, just spill it! I’m not following!”

Your friend huffed in exasperation, shoving the licence in your face, his finger on the name.

Steven Grant Rogers. Yeah, you could read too.

“That name should ring a bell, you dumbass! Would you say that this guy is handsome enough to be Captain America?” he hissed, making your heart stop.

Oh. Oh shit.

OH SHIT.

Your brain short-circuited.

“Oh my god. He really is 95,” you breathed out, your brain somehow choosing the least logical reaction to this whole revelation.

Ryan laughed. “Ding-ding, we have a winner! Holy crap, baby, I think you just got yourself a superhero soulmate!”

And just like that, you started panicking again. You gulped, watching the driving licence as if it could blow up.

“Shit, Ry-Ry! What do I do?” you whispered, desperation soaking through. What were you supposed to do upon that revelation? Captain America was your freaking soulmate!

Ryan smiled at you reassuringly, patting your cheek. “Not coming back to your spot behind the counter today, that’s for sure.”

“But-“

“I’m going in. I think this place won’t blow up if I fill in for once. I sure hope I remember the process, though I’m probably not gonna be as efficient as you are.”

You didn’t know what to say. Hell, you didn’t know what to do! But yeah, not coming back to the jungle sounded good, especially given your frantic escape.

“You really would do that?” you asked hesitantly and Ryan just rolled his eyes. “But… Ryan, what the hell do I do?!”

Your bestie gave you a lopsided smile and a wink, patting your cheek patronizingly once more before heading to take over your workplace.

“Whatever you want, baby. Whatever you want.”

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While you were having your own freak-out, Steve was standing at the counter, dumb-struck.

He couldn’t believe it. You had actually said those words. And judging by your reaction to his own, he must have said yours. Which… yeah, congratulation, Rogers, you had given your Universe-chosen dame an amazing note on her skin. To be fair, so had she.

Incredible.

Impossible.

His soulmate was in this century. In this millennia. That was what he got for ever thinking he could escape fate; a slap right in his face.

Because while for several cherished moments, he basked in the light on his soulmate not considering the pairing with him the infamous mistake the words on his skin claimed… he soon learned that it didn’t mean no heartbreak for him.

You had taken an abrupt leave to the back of the office and never came back.

Few minutes later, a man emerged from the door you had disappeared into, taking your seat and without a second look on Steve’s ID, he explained that Steve would have to come here again.

Steve didn’t care for the process of getting his driving licence renewed in the slightest, barely listening. His gaze was at the door to the hall, opened ajar, the door you didn’t return from after learning he was meant to be your partner.

When he had seen you behind the desk, he had considered you a beautiful dame, certain his heart had skipped a beat when your eyes met his. The sight of you was burned into his brain, now forever as a painful memory.

Clearly, you didn’t want him. Not because he was sickly, 95 pounds or 5’7’’ or all bones. Not because your words to him were about a mistake. Not because he was from Brooklyn. No. Honestly, Steve didn’t know why, what could scare you off so soon. He just knew you had escaped at the mere sight of him.

With his mind fuzzy, he walked out of the building into the bright nearly midday sun, blaming the sharp rays for the sting in his eyes. He sighed, running his hand down his face, suddenly bone tired.

“Mr. Rogers?” a shy female voice addressed him, instantly making him turn around to its source.

His lips parted in awe. There you stood, your airy floral dress reaching your knees, played with by the softest breeze. Hesitant smile on your lips. A tiniest spark in your eyes as he subconsciously took two steps to you, just to prove you would still be there if he came closer. You didn’t disappear.

“Y-yes?” he stuttered, actually feeling like the small man he had used to be before the serum.

You quietly introduced yourself, meeting his eyes once more, effectively stopping his heart again. You offered your hand for him to shake and he, feeling like he was dreaming, something else possessing his body, kissed your knuckles as he would have done if meeting you seventy years ago.

The most adorable heat warmed your cheeks at the gesture and you casted your gaze down; but Steve did catch a glimpse of the earlier spark shining brighter before you hid yourself from him

“I… I believe we have a lot to talk about,” you whispered and he instinctively gave your hand a gentle squeeze before letting go and shifting a half step closer to you. The corners of his lips unwittingly turned up, something warm building up in his chest as you returned the smile with hesitance.

“Yes, I think we do.”

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Nicolas J. Fury was sitting in his office, waiting for the door to finally open. There was something bugging him – and that something was about 5’7’’ tall, had red hair and was doing whatever it wanted, messing with his business. On top of that, she left him waiting; he had requested her ten minutes ago and she still hadn’t arrived.

He couldn’t help but let his sarcasm show when she came eventually.

“Agent Romanoff. Thank you for coming. Now, care to explain me why did you insist on Rogers getting his driving license renewed in person when we have done it for him already?” he demanded, leaning forward and resting his elbows on his desk.

The agent just shrugged. “He needs to meet people.”

“Don’t give me this shit, Natasha! What are you not telling me?”

Slow smirk spread Natasha’s lips, perhaps a bit smug, but she didn’t say a word.

“Romanoff-“

“Alright! Jeez, Nick, you have to work on your patience when it comes to Rogers, I swear…” she teased him. However, at least she started talking. “I might have run his… words through the system Stark provided us.”

Realization dawned to Fury. There was only one system she could be talking about. The soulmate matching one. Insert the words of a person and it would search the database for a possible match; everyone’s words were being put into the database at their birth. It made SHIELD’s work easier in case criminals happened to have a soulmate; the connection was so unique it usually offered a weak spot even for the rotten people.

Nicolas Fury raised his eyebrow expectantly, while Natasha just watched him, amused as she had the upper hand. The man rolled his functioning eye and sighed exasperatedly. Why was he keeping her around again? Oh right, she was his best agent.

“Fine. Did you find a match?”

Natasha snorted. “I didn’t even have to look for a match. There aren’t many women with ‘But I really am 95’ written on their skin,” she explained dryly and Fury just wanted to growl, cursing mentally.

How had no one thought about using the database in the first place?! It had cost them a lot of money, okay? They had it for a reason!

“She clean?” he inquired instead or swearing out loud and Natasha scoffed.

“Like a whistle, not even a speed ticket, which is rather ironic. She’s boring, really – she’ll be perfect for him. Can I go now? I have an ass to kick.”

“…Rogers’?”

“Barton’s, actually. Have a good day, Director,” Natasha spun on her heels and headed to the exit gracefully.

“Hey, I want her file!” Fury complained, already knowing he wasn’t going to receive it from her.

“Find it yourself!” she threw over her shoulder cockily, her red hair swirling with the sudden movement of her head.

The director of SHIELD tried to keep his amusement in check, controlled by the irritation, but he lost. The corners of his lips twitched as the door clicked behind his best spy.

Why did he keep her around again?

He started the search for the words Natasha had said, sinking into his chair comfortably.

Alright, no doubt future Mrs. Rogers. Let’s see how boring you really are.

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Part 2 (originally this was only meant a one-shot)

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Tags: @cxptain @mermaidxatxheart @smilexcaptainx

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If you wish to be tagged/untagged, let me know - either via an ask or a message :)

Thank you for reading!!

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hermit-pistol · 4 years

Text

@sallinthesky asked: Heiya!,omg I'm so happy to find this wonderful blog that I'm freaking out lol, but anyway, can I request a "My day was shit and I need a hug" with Team Bucciarati, and a 1.73-tall reader?,thank you in advance for my precious jewel!

I made these general Bucci gang hug headcanons! Hope you enjoy : )

Giorno Giovanna:

When you come home he'll be quick to notice that you aren't at 100%. He's usually very perceptive of emotions, especially when it comes to you

"Well, what can I do to help?" He'll pat the cushion on the couch next to him, inviting you to sit down and take a load off. You started by venting about your day, luckily Giorno was a good listener and let you ramble.

You thank him after releasing your pent up frustration from your day and leaned against him, taking in his scent. He smelled amazing.

"A hug would be nice." With your head on his shoulder, you looked up at him with a pleading expression, bottom lip between your teeth. He gave you a silent nod and you smiled before falling into his open arms.

Giorno gives the best hugs. It may not look like it, but he's surprisingly comfortable. Your stress melts in his embrace, as you hum contently.

Bruno Bucciarati:

It was his day off today, so he decided to surprise you by making dinner. Bruno's also had his fair share of hard days as well, being the capo and all. So when you slam the door open and stomp inside, he'll know what's up.

"Hello?" He called from the kitchen, hard at work chopping some vegetables.

"Hi." You answered curtly. He looked up from the cutting board and frowned; seeing you like this deeply upset him. To lighten the mood, he asked you to wash your hands and help with dinner. He manned the oven while you finished up the rest of the vegetables. He heard you heavily exhale as you showed no mercy, and soon the food had been beaten into a pulp. He could still salvage this for the recipe, though.

"Feel better now?" He turned around after prepping a pan for the oven. You nodded as you threw yourself into his arms. He chuckled softly and savored the feeling, pressing a kiss on your shoulder.

"I'll tell you about it over dinner, but for now, let's make sure we don't burn anything." Bruno nodded.

Narancia Ghirga:

He was too busy playing his video game to notice you walk in. It took him a while to notice that something was really wrong though, with you letting out the occasional overexaggerated sigh. Gamers. Gotta love 'em...

After about the fifth sigh he realized that something was wrong, "Babe, you okay?" He put down his headset and looked over his shoulder. You were slumped on the couch, and you shook your head pathetically in response.

"Aw, I'm sorry-" He jumped up (but not before turning off the console) and wrapped his arms around you. His hands felt a little clammy, probably from clutching the controller too tightly

"Thanks, Narancia." You gave a weak smile. You really just needed to be held right now.

He's very attentive and doesn't let you go until you insist you're okay for the tenth time. After you're feeling a little more like yourself you decide to play a video game together. Maybe a little friendly competition was just what you needed to get your mind off of things.

Guido Mista:

Mista, being the absolute gentleman he is, insisted on taking you out to a fancy restaurant for your anniversary. Unfortunately, you had to work during the day, but you insisted that working wouldn't affect your mood.

Well, weren't you wrong.

You couldn't even properly open the door to your apartment, fumbling with the keys, and shouting obscenities out of frustration. It was Mista who let you in, a concerned look on his face.

He was wearing a dress shirt, which was a pleasant surprise. His hat was still on, though. "Y/N, are you okay? The neighbors are gonna start asking questions."

You walk inside and shut the door behind you, throwing your bag on the floor as you walk towards your shared bedroom. Mista got more than an earful of your complaints from the day's happenings.

His arms around your waist were unexpected though, and you gasped in surprise. You could smell the lingering scent of the deodorant you bought him and forced him to wear. He held you close for a while before whispering a simple, "Better?". You smiled and nodded. "Good, because I-" *cue screams from the Pistols* eh we're starving!"

Leone Abbacchio:

He's always grumpy and hates when anyone complains. He spent the majority of his day running around chasing a target, and now he was resting at a public park. He didn't care if anyone found his attire strange; a nasty glare would be shot their way.

He didn't realize how late it was getting until his phone rang. Usually, he wouldn't answer his phone, but once he saw you on the called ID he picked up immediately.

"Y/N? What's wrong?" You knew that he hated phone calls, so this was a rare occurrence. You told him you were on your way home from work and just needed to vent because you had had a terrible day.

He decided to meet you back at your apartment and he listened as you complained, voice shaky. When he made it back to the apartment complex you were just pulling into a spot. He walked up to your car and knocked on the window, making you smile. He had such a funny way of showing affection.

Once you got out of the vehicle Abbacchio pulled you into a bone-crushing hug and whispered, "I'm sorry about your day." At these words, he hugged you even tighter. He was sweet when he wanted to be!

Pannacotta Fugo:

Fugo is not the best candidate when it comes to being in touch with one's emotions, so when you came home with a frown plastered on your face he was a little flustered.

You had disturbed his reading, which slightly annoyed him in that moment. Although, you did seem really upset. Despite him genuinely wanting to know more, what came out of his mouth was a simple, "What happened to you?"

Tears welled up in your eyes, and he felt instant regret in his choice of words. "Just work Fugo, that's all." You ran to the bedroom, and he was hot on your heels. You threw yourself on the bed and softly cried into the pillow.

He followed you, carefully sitting on the bed, placing a hand on your back "I'm sorry baby, please tell me what happened."

You turned over to face him; your eyes were puffy with tears. You held out your arms, pouting as Fugo picked up on what you wanted. His embrace was hesitant at first, but reassuring. Your stress from the day became less and less apparent. After you broke apart, he apologized for his actions and held you while you told him all about your day.

#here have this #while i work on alphabets #jojos bizarre adventure #jojos bizzare adventure x reader #jojo #jjba #jojo heacanons #jjba headcanons #vento aureo headcanons #Giorno Giovanna #Bruno Bucciarati #Narancia Ghirga #mista #guido mista #leone abbacchio #Pannacotta Fugo #fugo #sallinthesky #bucci gang

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moonflower-31 · 4 years

Text

I Won’t Forget You - Spencer Reid x Reader

Masterlist

Part 6

Pairing: Spencer x Reader

Warnings: Descriptions of murders, cases, Serial killer facts,

Tags: @dra-reid, @eevee0722, @ceeellewrites, @anotherr-fine-mess, @ssahoodrathotchner

~~~~~~~~~~

○●♡●○

It had been about two months or so since your little impromptu sleepover at the resident genius's place. Things had gotten a little better, at least on your part.

"Hey!"

You jumped from your make-do desk in your room, snapping your head towards the doorway where a friendly face awaited you. Gabriel had a bag of sweets in one hand and a malt in the other. "Jesus, Gabe you scared me." You cursed, holding a hand to your chest.

"At least we're even." He points out, putting the malt on the table in front of you. Also inconveniently on top of your written notes for the paper you had to write. You growled and moved the drink, glaring at your best friend.

"You've gotten even with me plenty of times since then! How many times do I have to say I'm sorry?" You ask in exasperation. Gabriel pretends to ponder your question as he pops a caramel apple sucker into his mouth.

"Says the girl who didn't call me to tell me she was home and instead decided to stay with the coworker she has a crush on. You didn't even bribe me with details!" He complained, dumping a few sweets in front of you.

You grumpily grab one of the sweets he had graciously offered and tossed it into your mouth. "It was one time! And I hadn't slept for like, four days! Besides, it wasn't my fault my mother decided to drop by and visit!" You huff.

"Yeah yeah. You know how much I hate that hag. Nothing against you, sugar tits." Gabriel comments, pulling the pop from his mouth. "But still, no excuse not to call me. Send me a text even. Some proof of life." He grumbled. "That malt is yours by the way. Iris insisted I get one for you while we were out. Couldn't say no."

You look over at the bright pink striped cup dripping with condensation that created a wet circle on the desk. For being pissed at you for over two months, Gabriel was a good friend.

You took the malt and started sipping generously. "I'm sorry, okay? What do I have to do to prove it to you?" You ask.

Gabriel smirked. You hated when he got ideas.

"Tell me about your night with Mister teacher's pet. Then I'll consider it." He teased, quickly bopping your nose.

"I already told you. After my bitch mother confronted me, he convinced me to head to his place. I couldn't say no. He eventually read me a poem and I fell asleep. And… he knows my real name now. Happy?" You asked with a groan.

"Oh come on, that can't be all of it!" He whined, almost like a child about to throw a tantrum for being forced to eat his vegetables. Not that Gabriel was any different. He would fight you tooth and nail if you tried.

"It is! Nothing else happened! No kiss, no dramatic display of feelings, no nothing. Just a really awkward drive to work." You huffed.

The thought of the drive was a little hurtful. After the night you both had, well more like morning and you slept through the rest of the day, Spencer had been distant. It didn't last long as a couple days later they all had to get on the jet for another case. Spencer then began to re-warm up to you and now you knew nothing different. Though he didn't try to flirt with you anymore. Not like Morgan. But the previous moments where he had you backed up against the map, or had called you a good girl. He never did it again. And to be honest, you missed it despite how embarrassed you were afterwards.

"Boo! And I thought you liked the guy!" Gabriel exclaimed, acting baffled at the chain of events in your life. He then shrugged. "More fish in the sea I guess." He teased, obviously gaging you for a response.

"I do! Just… I'm not as obscenely obvious about it as you want me to be!" You hissed, sucking up more chocolate malt into your mouth with a little bit of a pissy attitude.

"Well if you were, I'm sure he'd be your teacher's aide boyfriend by now. Now, who's right and wrong in this situation? Hm? Yeah, me. No debate." He insists, putting the sucker back into his mouth.

"Shut up. I have to write this paper. For my doctorate in social science." You explain. "Just because you stopped going to school doesn't mean I can't go ahead and add another doctorate to my belt." You try to change the subject, hoping Gabriel would ease up on you.

"You and those doctorates. Are you seriously trying to build a filing cabinet up there or are you just bored with working for the FBI already?" Gabriel asks, flopping down onto your bed.

"Neither. I just want to know as much as I can in all of my areas of schooling. Be taken seriously." You insist.

"Boring. Why don't you take classes on making candy or something? That would be seriously cool. And then you can open up your own business just to spite those parents of yours!

I can see it now!" He rants, hanging his head over the edge of your mattress as he spreads his hands as if displaying the business name.

You roll your eyes. "No thanks. That sounds like something you should do though. You'd fit right into that role, you know. Candyman." You tease. "Now I really gotta finish this paper." You insist.

"Fine fine. Just be sure to come down from your academic heaven long enough to eat dinner once Iris is finished." He insists, winking at you before he leaves your room.

Finally, you had your peace and quiet. But it was weird. The peace and quiet was very quickly becoming deafening by the influx of thoughts. Not the helpful kind either.

You began to come up blank on ideas for your paper and had more ideas on how you could have maybe done something different to prevent that awkward drive to work all those weeks ago. Where did this uncertainty come from?

You grumble and close your laptop after ten minutes of no progress. Maybe you just needed a break. Then again, it was your day off. And you didn't feel like wishing bad things on someone just so you'd be able to go into work.

Almost as if the universe had been listening and decided to throw you a sickened bone, you heard your phone begin to ring. You eagerly pick it up, knowing it would be something to keep you busy.

"Hello, Agent (L/N)." You answer without checking the caller ID.

"Yes, (L/N) I need you to come in. We have another case." Hotch answers the phone. You feel a slight feeling of excitement strike at your core. Sure, you'd been on 6 cases so far, but you enjoyed being around your fellow agents and putting another unsub away.

"Do I get any insight, Hotch?" You ask.

"It's a case in Lebanon Kansas. We have a large group of bodies piling up. We have two suspects we believe are working with each other. We just need to profile them and catch them before they kill again. I'll inform everyone once you've arrived." As soon as he finished, he hung up. He didn't give you any chance to reply. Typical Hotch fashion.

You stand up immediately, grabbing your bag and your go-bag you had packed at all times just in case this happened. You grabbed the malt you still had and drank the rest of it, grabbing a couple of the caramel apple pops Gabriel had left and shoving them into your pocket.

You wandered into the kitchen, grabbing a plastic container and putting some of dinner into it.

"Woah, woah, where the hell are you going so late?" Gabriel asked in a fatherly tone. You rolled your eyes and glared at him for a moment.

"I have work. Duh."

"Work? I thought you were off?" Iris asked, raising an eyebrow.

"I am. But unfortunately serial killers don't care that I'm off. Sorry guys. I promise I'll call you guys once I get back, okay?" You promise, finding a lid and putting it on the tubberware.

"You better. Or else I'll stick gum in your hair. And not the easy to get out stuff." Gabriel threatened teasingly, taking a quick bite of his food. "Have fun arresting some muttonheads!" He called.

You chuckle and sling your bag over your shoulder. "Will do!" You reply before you turn around and head out of your shared apartment.

○●♡●○

"Hey! (L/N)!"

You turn your head as you arrive to the bullpen. You smile as the eccentric Penelope Garcia raced up to you to give you a hug once you were down the stairs.

You graciously accepted the hug and turned to everyone else. "What did I miss?" You ask.

"Nothing much. Only Reid finally showing us another magic trick!" Penelope answered for everyone. Morgan chuckled and Reid blushed slightly. Emily was leaned slightly against Reid's desk, looking at you warmly.

"Seriously, he's really good." Emily affirmed. You chuckled and walked over in interest.

"Really now? Show me." You insist, standing in front of Spencer. He looked up at you and did a nervous chuckle.

"W-well your gonna have to turn around." He says, giving you an adorable michevious smirk.

"Oh come on-" you begin.

"He does this everytime, you'll get used to it." Emily adds, laughing slightly as she begins to turn around.

"Spencerrr… please? For me?" You asked, batting your eyes pitifully. You knew it would probably get you nowhere, but you could at lease try.

"No." He insisted.

"Pleaseeee!" You beg again, putting your hands in a clasped position. You even bended your knees slightly to add to the effect.

Instead of the immediate rejection, he pondered for a moment and stared at you.

"Come on kid, one person knows a magician's tricks. Let her be your protégé." Morgan suggests. You giggle and shook your head.

"No really, it's fine. You don't have to show me-" you begin to backtrack, not wanting to force Spencer into showing you.

"I'll do it. I-I mean… I have to find someone to pass my gifts onto." He chuckles, rubbing his neck a little nervously.

"Really?"

"Yeah!" He expressed.

Morgan raised an eyebrow and stifled a chuckle as he watched you two. He leaned over to Emily who had made her way over to where he stood and whispered into her ear.

Spencer then told everyone to turn their heads away except for you. Then he began to show you the way he made the mini bottle rocket. He wrapped his hands around yours and helped you with each step. The warmth of his hands spread to your cheeks, and the touch of them sent shivers down your spine.

"Then turn it upside down and…" Spencer instructed in a whisper, helping you to turn the cap upside down. You watched the foaming top for a few seconds, moving closer towards the unknowing danger of the cap. As soon as it began to jump up, Spencer pushed you back with an inaudible warning. You watched as the bottle skyrocketed and flew fast Hotch's ear. Through this, his hand clutched as your shoulder and refused to leave it.

"Reid, I thought I told you not to do that." Hotch warned.

Reid's face grew a little brighter with embarrassment. You didn't know what came upon you then, but you stood up and gulped. "It-it was me. He taught me and I shot it. Sorry sir." You insisted.

Hotch's lips pulled into a slight smile as he looked back towards you. He didn't say anything afterwards, but you knew he was just teasing you both. "Meet up in the confrence room in five minutes, we have another case." He says after he cleared his throat. You nodded with a cheerful smile and put your bag in your chair. You glanced to Spencer, flashing him a gentle smile before you turned to enter the conference room.

You entered the room and took your seat, taking the tablet out that Garcia had given you before. "So what do we have?" You asked.

"We have what is assumed to be over a dozen bodies killed with different MO's and different stages of aggression. The only thing that links them are the DNA from one or both of these suspects; Jensen and Sam Westchester. And boy do they have long records. That's why we were able to find their DNA matches so quick." Penelope answered.

Spencer took a seat beside you, causing your heart to skip just slightly. "How come we don't have these men yet? Why do they need our help?" You ask.

"We need to apprehend them. And get a confession. The Kansas state court system has been known to be unpredictable. Sometimes evidence is enough, other times they get off with a warning and community service." Hotch answers.

"At least they do that." Morgan grumbled. "How come we don't have these guys yet? Are they that slick?"

"Unfortunately yes. They are like Houdini when it comes to busting out of prisons and facilities. The last prison they were held in, one up in Ohio, said they were able to escape through knocking out a guard and switching clothes with him. They were in for a robbery charge." Penelope continued.

"So why escalate to murder? Unless these murders were scattered." You ask.

"They are. Over 15 years worth. It looks like they could maybe have more." Spencer spoke up, looking over the picture of one of the more recent bodies.

"It's quite possible. After all, Harold Shipman managed to get away with 218 proven murders. But they think he could've done as many as 250." You answer, sharing a serial killer fact you found interesting.

"So we just need to profile these boys and figure out the motive. And if we apprehend them, keep them apart." Emily points out.

"Why do you say that?" Rossi asks.

"If you notice the trend in each of these escapes, they only manage to escape when in contact with the other. In the prison they had time to be able to see one another and formulate a plan. Even when in questioning they were able to get notes to each other."

"Then we'll have to split up and get seperate confessions. These two are brothers, and neither seem to fit the submissive type.' Hotch explains.

"Two alpha males killing for seemingly no reason for half their lives. This'll be easy to get them to confess and rat out their partner." You say sarcastically.

"We have to try. Wheels up in thirty." Hotch announces, standing up and leaving the room.

You sigh and pick up the tablet. "Garcia, can you go ahead and check more than just their juvie records? I wanna have a list of information I can pick from for the profile. Possibly pinpoint some areas of their lives that lead to this behavior." You ask.

"Oh, but of course Queen! I'll get straight on that. But most of it will probably be sealed." She warned.

"Unseal those records Garcia. Anything that can help us." Morgan interjects as he grabs his bag and he too leaves the conference room. Garcia nods to him and quickly clicks her heels as she leaves the room. You sigh and pick up your things as you prepare to get onto the jet.

"You didn't have to defend me."

"Hm?" You ask, turning to look at Spencer. "Oh, you mean the rocket-thingy?" You clarify. "I was the one to beg you to teach me. Let's just be happy it didn't hit him in the head." You giggle. Spencer looked at you intently for a few moments before he nodded and turned his head away silently. Although it caused you to be uncertain, you brushed it off and walked out to your desk to grab your things.

As you grab your bags, you feel the small raised bulge in your pocket. You remember the caramel apple pops and smile. At least you could enjoy one of these on the way to deal with a pair of serial killers. Fun.

You pulled the sucker from the wrapper and popped it into your mouth, beginning your trek out to the jet. As you begin to walk towards the elevator, you notice a pair of hazel eyes following you. You feel a slight burning sensation on the back of your neck and your cheeks as you realized. He looked away once he noticed you were staring back.

Was he really staring, or was he just spacing out? You hoped it was the former. You were practically begging and praying for it to be. But you knew you'd never be that lucky.

As you began walking, you heard a jumble of feet behind you and the jingle of things inside a bag getting tossed around. "(Y/N!)" You heard. You widened your eyes and turned around, glad no one besides Spencer had been behind you.

"Spencer! You can't just call me by my first name right now!" You hissed.

"S-sorry, I just wanted to apologize if I sounded upset with you. I… I find it honorable that you tried to defend me. No one really does." He explained. You felt your heart melt a little.

"Spencer… I didn't think that in the slightest." You knew you were lying, but it was going to make him feel better. Besides, it wasn't that big of a deal. "And if that last part is true then I'll be your legendary defender. Like Voltron!" You insist, already beginning to geek out in front of your workplace crush. Way to go, (Y/N).

"Voltron? What is that? Is it like Star Trek?" He asked, beginning to walk towards the jet with you. You widen your eyes at him and gasp playfully.

"You, haven't seen Voltron Legendary Defender? Okay, when we get back you HAVE to come over and watch it with me. Afterwards we can watch some documentaries." You insist, practically bouncing on your toes. Spencer looked over you and smiled, unable to tell you no.

"Sounds like a plan."

#spencer reid #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x reader fic #spencer reid x you #spencer #spencer reid x reader fanfiction #spencer x y/n #spencer reid x y/n #Criminal Minds #Criminal Minds Fanfiction #criminal minds fandom

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hottestthingalive · 4 years

Note

If the fake fic titles are still open: id like to suggest “its too quiet” as a fic title (if they arent open feel free to delete this)

ooooohhhhh this is gonna be fun

-It’s quiet when Logan wakes up.

-Far too quiet, he thinks, because he lives in a castle, and there’s always some noise by the time he wakes up, even if it’s just the birds or the wind or the creaking of an old building in the winter.

-He cannot hear any of these things.

-Logan is the advisor to royalty. He did not get this job by having bad instincts, and so he sits up and gets dressed immediately.

-The castle is empty, he thinks at first, because it’s almost past noon (and why oh why did he sleep in so late?) and no one is there. The throne room, the kitchens, the gardens, the library, even the town outside -- not a single person seems to be there but himself.

-And then he checks the rooms, and he understands.

-They’re asleep. Everyone in the castle (and he can guess the town outside, too, and possibly the whole land) is fast asleep, and no matter what he does, he cannot wake them. He does his best, desperately tries to wake King Thomas, but he fails.

-He fails, and it is so, so quiet.

-And then there is noise.

-“Get away from our father, witch!” yells a familiar voice, though one he has never heard quite so desperate, and the twin princes crash into him, dragging him to the floor, knocking his head against the tiles as they stand over him with swords they must have pilfered from the guards and helmets and shields that are too large for them.

-“Roman? Remus?” he says, because he cannot believe they are awake, and the five-year old crown princes’ eyes widen in recognition.

-“Lolo?” Remus says first, and tears up, and he drops his sword to fall into Logan’s arms, already sobbing. “What’s happening? Why is everyone asleep?” Roman joins the hug quickly, and Logan sits up holding them both, and does not care that his tunic is soaked with their tears because he is so glad to see them.

-“I don’t know,” he admits.

-They leave the castle, eventually. Though the food does not rot and everything still works, they are all getting sad and scared and angry staying in this empty palace, and besides, Logan says they must look for a cure for whatever this is. Once they have waited two weeks, and know the sleepers do not need food or water or cleaning (once they have waited two weeks, and have been alone with just each other for so long, the quiet creeping into their bones and hearts and souls) they leave the castle.

-Everywhere has been affected, Logan starts to think. Nothing rots, nothing decays, but every living thing they see in their travels is fast asleep. They take food with them, and when they run out they borrow it from the more affluent homes they pass. Roman and Remus change from their princely attire to clothes better for traveling, and though Logan does his best to seem respectable at all times, he does as well, too. The twins grow out their hair, and he teaches them to braid it, keeping his own tied up as best he can.

-It is months before they meet Virgil and Patton and Janus, before Logan wanders into a pub when the princes are fast asleep to try and get a drink, Virgil popping up from behind the bar with wide eyes, a confused expression, and a sleeping baby in his arms. Patton is a toddler, who calls Virgil “Ver!” and Janus is so young, barely old enough to eat foods other than milk. Logan does not question the scales that cross one side of Janus’ face, nor Patton’s green-tinged skin and webbed fingers, or Virgil’s sharp teeth and purple and green eyes, but his princes do, incessantly. Virgil does not seem to mind.

-“Are Janus and Patton our new brothers?” Roman asks one day, whispering it to Logan as he and Patton play “Patton-cake” (A name Logan despises, for the record) and Virgil rocks Janus to sleep, Remus tracing the scales on the baby’s left side with careful curiosity.

-Logan exchanges looks with Virgil (Virgil who has begun to sit closer to him when the children are asleep, who exchanges stories and points out stars and is a shoulder for Logan to cry on, who he thinks is quite pretty and maybe, just maybe, could be something a tad different from a friend to him) and smiles, soft and sad. “They might as well be,” he says, and the young prince just grins, and takes Patton’s chubby hands in his own, and says “You hear that, Pat? We’re brothers, now!”

-Patton giggles, and says “Ro!” and “Re!” and “Lo!” and “Ver!” and “Ja!” and then “Mily!”

-Virgil looks over, still holding Janus, and frowns. “What’s ‘Mily’?” he asks, stepping closer.

-Logan might have guessed that it had been Patton’s family, before, but Virgil had told him one night, in a hushed whisper, that Patton had never met his parents, Virgil’s brother and his partners, that they had died when he was a baby and Virgil had taken him in. Janus was a more recent addition to their little band, a changeling left to die in the forest before Virgil had rescued him.

-“Family,” Remus says, in the way of his that almost seems unnatural, how he and his brother always seem to know what one is thinking, and perhaps they do. (This correlates to Logan’s theory -- that they remain awake because of magic in their blood. Virgil has confessed that he is a witch, a healer, primarily, that his brother had had the gift too and had thus given magical blood to Patton. Then there is Janus’ changeling nature, and Logan’s own magical descent from a human father and faerie mother. No one knows where the twins came from, just that the king and his partner had adopted them, and they could very well have power running through their veins, enough to know a toddler’s thoughts, or when someone is not looking so they can steal cookies from the kitchen, or to tease Logan about his ‘crush’ on Virgil.)

-“Family?” Logan says, and Patton repeats it; “Mily!”

-They find a way to break the curse, eventually, after three years, after they find the Dragon Witch and she warns them of a sorcerer who had plunged the world into an endless sleep. They have been living in a cottage built by Logan and Virgil and Janus’ budding telekinesis for years, now, the princes nine and strong and fast and brave, Patton six and an unusually fast swimmer and so, so kind, Janus nearly four and in awe of his brothers, toddling along after them at any opportunity. Virgil insists that they need to find this sorcerer, break the curse, when the children have been put to bed and he and Logan and the Dragon Witch sit at the kitchen table. The Dragon Witch (DW, as she insists they call her, refusing to give her real name, wary of Logan and Janus and their fey descent) says it is too dangerous, alone, and he reminds her they are three, seven with the children too. Logan sides with DW, though he sees Virgil’s point, and eventually he is swayed.

-Logan has long since fallen in love with Virgil, though he has not told him. He hopes Virgil knows that the long hours sitting on the bench under the willow tree outside their cottage and the mornings of cooking together and sleepy conversations and the nights spent in the same bed after the nightmares from being alone became too much for them both mean more to him than anything else in the world, save for the children they raise together. Sometimes, he thinks his feelings might be returned, and those are the days he feels like he might be glowing from the inside out.

-And when the sorcerer aims a spell at Virgil, says “If you are so lonely without the human-kind, you may sleep with them!” Logan jumps in the way, finds himself staggering and falling backwards into Virgil’s arms, sees horrified glowing purple and green eyes just before his eyes close. “I love you,” he whispers, and then he drifts away.

-And then he wakes up, and Virgil is clutching his face in his hands, eyes wide with shock, tears wet against his cheeks, and he says “Logan Logan Logan!” like it is a prayer and pulls him into a hug.

-“What happened?” he asks, and Virgil turns a furious shade of red, and DW laughs and laughs. “True love’s kiss!” Patton exclaims, eyes wide and shining with glee, and Logan finds himself blushing too.

-As in every fairy tale, true love’s kiss does indeed break the spell. The king is shocked, to see his sons so grown, but he is also more than happy to accept his new ones. “I do not want to make it seem like you are not their parents, as well,” Thomas tells Logan and Virgil, “for you are, and it would be selfish of me to think otherwise. Thank you, for saving me, and for caring for my sons.” He and Logan are rather good friends, after that, and when Logan is made a lord (and a rather powerful one, at that) it is only surprising to him.

-Virgil lives in the palace with them, and Logan finds himself flirting and holding hands and blushing far too often. They kiss again a few months later. They are married when Roman and Remus are eleven, Patton nine, and Janus five, and the king himself performs the ceremony. Patton scatters flower petals when they walk up the aisle hand in hand, Roman and Remus ties the long black and purple and blue ribbons around their wrists, binding them together, and Janus presents them with the knives they had given each other, as tradition dictates, to put in marriage sheaths at their sides. The Dragon Witch (who has long since told them her name, by now) makes the sky explode in color for them, and watches the children while Virgil and Logan dance together.

-Logan finds his family in the quiet, and yet he loves them for the noise they bring into his life. And in the end, he would not have had it any other way, even for all the hardship, for he cannot imagine a world without them.

I really do have a brand, and it is Analogical™. But I loved loved loved writing this piece, and I might expand on it in the future for funsies because sometimes family is a half-fey advisor to the king, a witch/healer, two slightly magical princes, a small frog child and the witch’s nephew, a tiny baby changeling, the king and his partner, and a dragon witch pretending to be mean who’s really just a big softie.

Send me a fake fic title and I’ll tell you what I’d write for it!

#asks #analogical #romantic analogical #familial drlamp #creativitwins #ts virgil #ts logan #ts patton #ts janus #ts roman #ts remus #ts thomas #ts dragon witch #cinder writes #anon #cinder's prompts #cinder's prompt fills #virgil sanders #logan sanders

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itsjustmyfantasyroom · 4 years

Text

Riddler part 6

Master List

Like i said in part one, I wrote this so long ago, straight after Fresh Starts actually, I was a different smut writer back then hehe.

Warnings: Smut.

WC: 1813

Enjoy x

“Wow you look amazing prima (cousin)” Blake lent down hugging you and kissing you on the cheek. “Rafael, you scrub up pretty well too” both men shaking hands.

Rafael was dressed in a dark charcoal pin stripped suit with a medium grey button down and black shoes, hair gelled perfect and smelling amazing. You were in a navy blue pair of shorts with a matching navy blue blazer and a black tank top tucked in, low heel pair of black heels and your hair in lose curls.

“Thank you guys for coming, means a lot”

“Of course Blake, wouldn’t miss it” you hugged your cousin around his middle and he kissed you on top of your head.

“Logan and Caesar are coming by the way. They heard we are going out after so that changed their mind”

“Of course they did” you rolled your eyes with a smile.

Logan and Caesar walked in not long after, making a fuss of you as they usually did, both shocked how nice you actually looked. They both treated Rafael nicely and asked questions to get to know him and told him funny stories about when your guys were going up. After the presentation, Rafael went to the bathroom and was getting drinks on the way back.

“Wow Y/N, good job catching him. How did you do it? Give me tips”

“I ‘am sure you Chico (boy) don’t need tips” you said back to Logan

“Have you opened up to him yet prima, told him about everything?” Caesar asked.

“Yeah I have. But I stuffed up last night” they both looked at you and went on to tell them what happened between you both last night.

“Pollo (chicken)”

“I’ am not a chicken. Me preocupe (I’am worried)”

“Por Que (why)?”

“What do you mean why Logan, it’s been so long and I don’t want to get hurt. I can’t do that again”

Caesar grabbed your arm and made you look at him, “He isn’t the gilipollas (asshole) you were with before. We aren’t getting any younger. You have closed yourself off for so long to happiness. He seems like a nice guy, go for it. Sigue a tu corazon (follow your heart). We all got you if something goes wrong”

---

“Which club are we going to?” Rafael was holding your hand looking a little nervous.

“Cuarto Rojo (Red Room)” Logan answered back as he hailed down a cab.

“You guys go to Latino clubs often?” Rafael looked between you all.

“It’s all we used to do once we got out of college and Y/N out of the academy” Caesar answered back.

You guys got to the club, showed your ID’s and walked to the table Caesar had reserved while at the presentation. The music was blaring with a fast salsa song. Rafael and Blake went to the bar to get drinks. As they headed back to the table Rafael seen you out of the corner of his eye and turned to look at you his eyes opening wide.

Caesar was spinning you around the dance floor, you both doing the salsa fast with some pretty advanced moves. You guys laughing with each other when he pulled you back into him. He couldn’t keep his eyes off you, he would have been jealous if it wasn’t your cousin. The way you moved your body, your hips, your feet. Blake and Logan saw him staring at you, and Blake lent over.

“You know she is the only girl in our family. Her and Caesar are the only two that have always been the same height. Mi Tia, Caesar’s Mum, put them in salsa classes together when they were 10. They won a lot of dance competitions till they got to senior year and Caesar’s crush teased him for dancing with his cousin so he put a stop to it.” Rafael nodded and looked at Blake with a smile. Blake lent back over to him,

“You know Rafael, I’ am not going to go all big brother on you, but I want to ask you one thing” Rafael nodded back at him, “Take care of her and love her how she deserves to be loved. She acts like she is tough, and her mouth shows she is, but she isn’t really, she just needs to be loved by the right person. And I really think that could be you”

“I promise I will” Rafael nodded back.

After a couple of songs, a slow song came on and you and Caesar walked back to the table. You walked over to Rafael and hugged him around his neck standing between his legs, he leant over and kissed you on the cheek and lent close to your ear,

“You looked amazing out there Hermosa”

“Gracias Guapo (thank you handsome)” you kissed him lightly on the lips “When a fast one comes back on, dance with me?” he nodded back.

Two songs later another fast song came on, Rafael grabbed your hand and pulled you to the dance floor. His dancing was amazing. The way he controlled you and led you around the floor, it started a fire within you. There was something extremely sexy about it, like it was foreplay in some weird way. The song ended and he pulled you close to him, you guys were nose to nose.

“Let’s get out of here” you said to him, a smirk coming to his face.

You guys walked back to your cousins at the table and you lent over to Blake, “We are going” he gave you a big hug and shook Rafael’s hand.

You hugged Logan and then got to Caesar, he whispered in your ear as you hugged, “Ve por ello bebe (go for it baby)”

On the cab ride home, you and Rafael couldn’t keep your hands off each other like two teenagers kissing in the back and running your hands up and down each other’s bodies. The taxi pulled up, Rafael paid and you both walked hand in hand into building. Once you got to your door, Rafael started to kiss your neck from behind, making it hard to get the key in the hole as he was kissing your sweet spot. Finally you got it in and pushed the door open. Rafael closed it behind you and slid the safety lock. You turned and pressed yourself against him, feeling how hard he had started to get. You pressed your lips to his and wrapped your arms around his neck and he led you back towards the bed room without breaking the kiss. You both fell in a heap on the bed. He pulled away and looked into your eyes.

“Do you want to stop?”

“No, te deseo (I want you)”

He smiled and lent in and started to kiss you deeply again. You pushed off his jacket and pulled his shirt out of his pants and started to undo the buttons, slipping it off once the buttons were all undone. He pulled away and sat up off you and taking off his shoes and socks, followed by his dress pants. You quickly followed undressing leaving you just in your bra and panties and you laid back down.

He laid down next you, you rolled onto your side and lent in and kissed you again. You put your hand onto his chest and let it run down to his boxers. You slid your hand down into them and wrapped your hand around his length, gasping at how big he was. He let out a little moan into your mouth. You started to stork up and down, from root to tip.

Rafael slid his hand to your panties and moved them to the side. He ran his finger over your folds and felt how wet you were. He slide one finger into you, you moved away from the kiss and moaned, then he added another one, making you let go of him and falling back on your back.

“Eres asombrosa” (your amazing) Rafael whispered.

He picked up the pace, thrusting his fingers into you, using his thumb to make small circles over your clit. It didn’t take long for the pleasure to wash over you, sending sparks all through your body. You moaned loud while Rafael fingered you down from your high.

Once you had claimed down, you lent over and pulled off his boxers. He moved his hips up to help you pull them off. He reached behind you and undone your bra throwing it on the floor and pulled down your panties. If he could have seen in the dark, he would have seen your cheeks go bright red.

“Confias en mi? (do you trust me)”

“Si” you whispered back

“Anytime you want to stop, you tell me and we stop”

“Ok”

Rafael lined himself up above you, and slowly started to slide into you inch by inch. He didn’t want to get too carried away with you, he wanted to control himself. It had been so long for him and for you, he wanted to last as long as he could

“Are you ok?”

“Yeahhh” he pushed in the last little bit and then paused for a moment.

“You ok Rafi?”

“Never better” he started to thrust in and out of you. The little moans coming out of your mouth was music to his ears and turned him on even more. He picked up the pace and you started to buck up meeting his every thrust, you ran your hands up and down his back. “I’ am close” he managed to get out

“Me-oh Rafael” you screamed as the pleasure ran threw again so intense your whole body was shaking. Your reaction was enough to send him over the edge after one big thrust and moaned your name and started to slow his thrusts till he was done.

Both of your breathing was hard and fast. Rafael stayed on top and in you for a little while longer, then he pulled out and rolled off of you falling onto his back. You rolled over on your side facing him. He rolled onto his side meeting your stare and a smile came to his face. He lent over and kissed you lightly on the lips. You took a deep breath and looked at him again

“What do you want to say?” he ran his thumb over your cheek bone.

“If this-if we are going to keep doing this-if we are a thing now. I’ll need to get some kind of birth control. I’m not on any, clearly, it’s been so long” you huffed

“Make an appointment and we will go together and see what you’re comfortable with”

“Really?” you grinned.

“Anything for my girlfriend” you jumped on top of him wrapping your legs and arms around him like a bear.

Tags: @detective-giggles @beccabarba @thatesqcrush @the-baby-bookworm @dianilaws @scarletsoldierrr @lv7867 @permanentlydizzy @averyhotchner @infiniteoddball @ritajammer21 @madamsnape921 @word-scribbless

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detectivecarlosreyes · 4 years

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In Case of Emergency (Ch 5/10)

Ao3 | 2.8/8.9k | Eventual Buddie | Status: Incomplete

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Chapter 5: Bad memories can make the worst nightmares Buck has a bad night in the time after he gets out of the hospital following the firetruck accident. Set somewhere in the season 2 finale, around the time of Eddie's probation graduation.

Eddie was woken suddenly in the middle of the night to the sound of his phone ringing. Barely glancing at the screen, he accepted the call without checking to see who was calling at such an absurd hour and buried his face back into his pillow with a mumbled, “Hello?”

Thinking it might be a prank call upon hearing the prolonged silence accompanied by the sound of heavy breathing, he dropped the phone from his ear and properly looked at the caller ID. It was only when he saw Buck’s name glaring back at him does his heart rate spike as he quickly brought the phone back to his ear, sitting up with a sense of urgency, completely awake.

“Buck?”

No response.

“Buck, what’s wrong?”

The only possible indication that Buck had even heard him was a slight hitch in his breathing which was now beginning to sound more and more laboured, like he was on the threshold of a panic attack.

“Buck! Evan. Talk to me, what’s going on?”

Eddie was already scrambling out of his bed, phone held between his ear and shoulder as he slipped on some pants and then shoes that were tossed beside his bed. As he gathered up a hoodie and briefly checked on Chris, he fished his keys from the bowl beside the door as an almost inaudible whisper came through causing him to pause.

“…Eddie.”

He heard a few thuds and clatters from Buck’s end of the call, sounds that Eddie couldn’t quite decipher until he heard the recognisable sound of rushing water. It was at that point that the call suddenly ended, with three ominous beeps. Eddie swore, setting the house alarm knowing that Chris wouldn’t be moving around in the middle of the night, and rushed to his truck as he hit redial, putting the phone on speaker as he started driving, the dull ringing tone the only sound filling the silence.

“Come on Buck! Answer the damn phone.”

His call rang out without being picked up and Eddie just hit redial again, doing his best not to take his eyes off the road. Buck still didn’t answer the second time. Giving up on the phone, Eddie tossed it on the passenger seat and pressed his foot down further on the accelerator, pushing the speed limits, thankful that the late hour meant minimal traffic.

It had only been a couple of days since Buck had managed to convince Maddie he would be fine back in his apartment. When he first got out of the hospital after all the surgeries to his leg, she had insisted that he stayed with her until he was more mobile on his crutches.

That was little more than a week ago and now with the way the call ended, all Eddie could do is fear the worst thinking maybe it was too soon for him to be by himself, far removed from help. He had stairs in his apartment, what if he had fallen down them? Recalling hearing the sound of water, maybe Buck slipped in the bathroom and he reinjured himself through the cast? All these scenarios played in his head as he made his way to Buck’s place.

Finally arriving at the apartment complex, Eddie haphazardly parked his truck and flew out the door, barely stopping to lock it with the button over his shoulder.

He took the numerous flights of stairs two at a time, easily arriving at Buck’s apartment in half the time the elevator would’ve taken. Fumbling with the keys, Eddie easily picked out Buck’s new blue one for this apartment thankful that it was easy to identify. As soon as it was open he rushed inside, calling out to Buck.

“Buck! Buck? You here?”

A croaky reply of, “In here,” could be heard coming from the downstairs bathroom.

It was only now that he heard the shower running and found the bathroom door wide open. From where he stood, Eddie could see Buck’s crutches laying messily inside the door frame.

Stepping inside, his attention was immediately drawn to the bathtub revealing Buck lying inside still fully dressed and completely soaked to the bone by the running shower, his casted leg awkwardly hanging over the side.

“…Buck.” Eddie breathed out with a breath he didn’t realise he had been holding taking in Buck’s appearance for a moment before he swiftly moved to the bath, pushing up his sleeves. The ice cold water splashed on his exposed arm causing Eddie to flinch at the temperature as he reached for the tap to turn it off.

Buck only acknowledged his presence when the water was no longer running over his head and he looked up at Eddie with a haunted expression marring his features. The nearly healed scratches beside his eyebrow look even more pink than usual, standing out against Buck’s pale, cold skin.

His eyes looking almost sunken, shadowed in the lighting as if he hadn’t slept in weeks. A small whimper passed through his lips as recognition set in, tears intermingling with the water droplets that were still falling from his hair.

Buck reached a desperate hand out to him, and Eddie took it in his own, kneeling down next to the bath now at eye level with Buck.

“Eddie? You’re…here?”

“Yeah Buck, I’m here. You called me, remember? And then you hung up on me and wouldn’t answer your phone, I was worried.”

“Oh.”

“Come on. Let’s get you out of the tub and into some dry clothes.”

Eddie helped hook Buck’s other leg to the side of the tub and turned him around so his body was facing out and all he had to do was pull him up to a standing position. He then guided Buck to the toilet and got him to sit down so the water from his shorts didn’t drip down into his cast.

Eddie handed him his towel that was hanging on the towel rail and instructed Buck to dry off as much as he could while he went to get some plastic wrap and fresh pajamas. Searching in his chest of drawers, he easily found some comfortable and warm clothes, and coming back to the bathroom, Eddie was greeted with a much more alert Buck who was still soaking up as much moisture from his shorts as he could with the towel.

“I have something dry for you to change into and some plastic wrap to cover the top of the cast while you change if you think you need it.” He set both items on the counter next to the sink and picked up the crutches that had been left abandoned, resting them within Buck’s reach. Catching Buck’s eye, Eddie gave him a quick nod before leaving the bathroom, closing the door behind him for privacy.

While he waited, Eddie was able to take in the state of the apartment, noting all the details. Every single light was turned on, from the kitchen to the living room making it seem like it was daytime. The couch had been turned into a fold-out, with blankets and pillows strewn across it. His work duffle bag was resting open next to the couch, presumably containing a selection of clothes for Buck to wear instead of having to go upstairs every day to get dressed.

His attention was brought back to the man in question, who awkwardly managed to open the bathroom door with his crutches and sheepishly ducked his head as he moved past Eddie to get to the couch bed. Eddie followed him and took a seat in the armchair next to the tv. He waited, watching Buck as he straightened up the pillows and blanket around him, doing what he could to avoid eye contact.

Buck finally sat down on the edge, briefly making eye contact with Eddie before running a hand through his hair and letting his gaze slide away, “You don’t have to stay you know. I’m good now.”

Knowing that he wouldn’t get a straight answer from Buck by pushing him with questions, Eddie stayed quiet leaning back in the chair with hands resting on his stomach, clearly indicating to Buck that he wasn’t going anywhere anytime soon. It didn’t take Buck long to realise this, so he picked up a pillow and rested it on his lap, smoothing out the wrinkles in the pillowcase as he traced random shapes that only he could see. He exhaled slowly before opening his mouth.

“I’ve been getting nightmares about the bomb, ever since I got home and was off the heavy meds. From what I can remember it tends to be the moments leading up until the explosion with me and the guys riding in the back of the truck except I always know what’s going to happen before it does, and I always managed to wake up just as it went off.”

Buck paused and gathered the pillow up in his arms, hugging it. Eddie waited patiently, giving him the time to gather his thoughts.

“Before, when I was in the hospital, I said that I couldn’t remember anything after the explosion and at the time it was true while I was all doped up. And I’ve remembered bits and pieces, but tonight was different.” His voice cracked before he breathed out, “Tonight I remembered everything.”

“I remembered all the pain from being thrown out of the truck, and the crushing weight of it on my leg. I remember thinking that I was going to die there, stuck and alone when that kid came over in his vest, surrounded by this intense heat trapped from the explosion in the metal and radiating from the road. There was no escaping the heat, it felt like I was burning from everything around me.”

Eddie leaned forward, concern colouring his voice with his observation, “I’m guessing that’s why I found you freezing yourself in a cold shower.”

Buck nodded, knowing where Eddie was going with that line of thinking, “I don’t even remember getting in the bath, but I guess even in my panicked state I recognised that I needed something to cut through the heat and properly pull me out of the memory.”

Eddie hummed, knowing all too well the need for a shock to the system to break of a memory.

“I’m surprised you managed to call me if you were that far gone.”

“I honestly don’t remember doing that either, I just remember you holding my hand back then, and then you actually were.”

Eddie bit his lip, recalling that moment and all the conflicting feelings that came along with it, his heart and his head fighting for control as he tried to decipher what they all really meant.

“What do you need?” he eventually asked after a moment of quiet.

Buck looked at him in confusion, not understanding the question.

“You called me – what can I do? What do you need me to do?” Eddie clarified, wanting to be of use, to help the person that has helped him through so much, his closest friend and confidant since moving to LA.

Buck answered with a shrug, looking away. “I- I don’t know. Really, you should just go home to Chris, I don’t want to keep you from him. I’m fine now, honestly.”

Shit. Eddie chewed his lip feeling both guilty for leaving his son and torn, wanting to help his friend who was clearly in need of some comfort but with the reminder, he didn’t want to leave his son for any longer than an hour even with the security alarm on.

Coming to a decision he shifted to the edge of the chair and leaned forward, “Do you trust me?”

“More than you could know Eddie.” Eddie couldn’t help but smile at that.

“Lie down. On your stomach.” And Buck does as he’s told, hugging a pillow under his face which he turned to the side to watch Eddie as he settled a pillow under Buck’s cast before moving around the apartment to turn off most of the lights.

He left the lamp beside the couch on, so now the apartment was bathed in a soft glow without feeling oppressively dark. Once all that was done, he took a seat beside Buck who gave him a questioning look but said nothing.

“Just close your eyes, let’s see if we can get you a few more hours sleep.” Buck shut his eyes without question, showing Eddie how much he really did trust him, which had him hoping against all hope that this idea would work.

He started to hum, a soft tune that his mother used to sing to him as a child that he now sings off-key to Christopher at times when he couldn’t get to sleep and started tracing the backs of his fingernails in lazy circles across Buck’s shoulders and back, gently enough that wasn’t scratching but firmly enough that it didn’t tickle.

Surprisingly, it didn’t take long before the tension in Buck’s body started to bleed away until his breaths evened out into a slow deep pattern. It looked as though he’d fallen quickly into a deep sleep and he didn’t stir when Eddie stopped in his ministrations. He couldn’t help but breathe a sigh of relief to see Buck looking to be at peace before he headed home to his son.

** ** ** ** ** ** **

Buck woke disorientated, somehow feeling more refreshed in the few hours of sleep he’d gotten than in the days after he’d left the hospital, unsure of how he even managed to fall asleep in the first place with that lasting memory still fresh in his mind.

It was only as he started paying attention to how he got in this position did Buck begin to notice the quiet clattering of dishes in the kitchen and the low murmuring of two very familiar voices causing him to blearily open his eyes to see not only Eddie but also Christopher huddled together over the island bench bathed in the morning sunshine making his heart flutter over their presence.

Seeing Eddie brought back the rest of his memory of what happened in the time after he’d woken from the nightmare and put himself in the tub. Remembering that Eddie had not only come at such a ridiculous hour because he’d called him in an irrational state of panic, but he also helped him out of his sorry state with zero judgment and stayed long enough to him get back to sleep which he didn’t think he would be able to do.

Sitting up slightly he sniffed the air, smelling the familiar scent of pancakes permeating the air and drew the attention of Eddie who caught the movement, gesturing for him to stay put while looking quite pleased with himself. Buck turned over to sit in a more comfortable position as the two Diazs’ continued murmuring to each other as they finished before they changed tact and made their way over to him in the living room laden with the freshly cooked breakfast.

“What are you guys doing here?” he asked, unable to keep the incredulity from his voice at having them being there on a weekday morning, “Not that I don’t appreciate that you’re here and made me breakfast, but shouldn’t you be at work, school?”

Buck watched bemused as Eddie carefully settled the tray on his lap, ensuring no coffee was spilled and sat down on the arm of the couch as he answered, “Well, Chris has just started spring break and I have an afternoon start, so I figured you might like some company for at least part of the day,”

They share a meaningful look at that and Buck gave him an appreciative nod, before patting the spot next to him, inviting Chris to join him, and laughed when Eddie quickly rescued the coffee mug just before Chris bounced into position excitedly.

“And I’m guessing you’re the genius who decorated these delicious smelling pancakes.” Buck proclaimed to Chris as he surveyed the strawberry slices and whipped cream smiley faces adorning the stack.

“Yep, Dad let me do it!”

“That’s a good thing, I don’t think your dad could have done a better job.” He said in a staged whisper to Chris.

“Excuse you! I managed to cook these pancakes, didn't I?” frowned Eddie in feigned indignation, causing Buck to laugh.

“Of course, Eds, and you did a great job,” he answered lightheartedly with an appreciative pat to the knee before reaching to reclaim his coffee which Eddie begrudgingly returned to him.

As he sipped at his mug, Buck couldn't help but feel his heart swell over having these two in his home taking the time out of their own free time together to spend the day with him, for no reason except to make sure that he was okay. And if he was ignoring his crush on Eddie that was slowly but surely growing, it was near impossible to ignore now.

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crazy4dragons · 4 years

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Everything Will Be Okay

Astrid comforts Hiccup after he finds out his injuries from a car accident are more serious than he thought. Pure fluff! Like Heaven AU. Hiccstrid are about 16 here.

Hearing her phone ring, Astrid turned her attention away from her homework and looked at the caller ID.

Hiccup 😜

“Hey, Hiccup,” she greeted as she accepted the call.

“Are you busy?” came Hiccup’s voice through the speaker.

“I’m just doing homework. Why, what’s up?”

Hiccup sighed. “I had physical therapy today. You know, for my leg. And my therapist told me that I’m not making the progress he thought I would.”

“Listen, you shattered your bone pretty badly. And with the fracture in your ankle, too, it might take longer than expected for everything to heal all the way.”

“That’s the thing, Astrid. It’s not going to heal all the way.” Hiccup’s voice cracked. “The doctors are recommending I get a second surgery. And if that doesn’t work, I might have to use a wheelchair off and on for the rest of my life. Or maybe just a cane if I’m lucky, but I don’t want to be walking around like an old man with a walking stick. Do you know how much I’ll get teased at school? If I can ever go back to school?”

“But there’s also a chance the second surgery could work, right?”

“I guess, but even if it does, my limp will never go away permanently.” He sniffled.

Astrid frowned. “Hiccup? Are you crying?”

He didn’t reply.

“Are you still there? Hiccup?”

“Can you…can you come over? I need you,” Hiccup said, still sniffling. “And if it’s okay with your mom, do you think you could just stay the night?”

“I’ll ask, but she might say no because it’s a school night. Are your parents there?”

“Yeah, both of them are here. I’ll be honest with you, Astrid, I cried the whole way home from physical therapy, and cried more when we got home. My mom sat with me for a while, but she thought that maybe it would help take my mind off of everything if you came over.”

Astrid shut her laptop and, putting her phone on speaker and resting it on her desk, began to pack up her school supplies. “Yeah, I can come for at least a couple hours. I’ll check with my mom about sleeping over, too. Is there anything you want me to bring?”

“No. But if you’re down to cuddle, that would be great.”

“Of course I am.”

“Great. Well, I’ll let you go, then. Do you need my dad to come pick you up?”

“No, I can walk.”

“But Astrid, it’s freezing out. And dark.”

“I’ll be okay.”

“I’ll ask my dad come get you. I’ll tell him to be there in fifteen.”

“Okay, if you insist. I’ll talk to my mom about the sleepover and text you to let you know what she says.”

“Sounds good. See you in a bit, then.”

“See you. Bye.”

“Bye.”

…

Twenty minutes later, Astrid walked into Hiccup’s house, her overnight bag over her shoulder and a pillow under her arm.

“Hello, dear,” greeted Valka. “I’m so glad you could come. Hiccup could really use a friend.”

“Is he in his room?”

“Yes, love, he’s in his room. Did you have dinner yet? Stoick made pan-seared salmon and noodles. We have leftovers if you’re hungry.”

“No, I didn’t have dinner yet. Do you mind if I bring a plate to Hiccup’s room?”

Valka looked at the things in Astrid’s arms. “Why don’t you go on up and get settled in, and I’ll bring it up to you?”

“Thank you,” smiled the blonde. She ascended the stars and knocked on Hiccup’s door. “Hey, it’s me.”

“Come in.”

Astrid twisted the doorknob and, after putting her bag and pillow down, shuffled over to where Hiccup was sitting with red eyes and a box of tissues and wrapped him in a hug. “You know, no matter what happens, you’ll still have me.”

Unable to hold back his tears, Hiccup broke out into a sob. “I just want to be normal,” he cried, burying his face into Astrid’s shoulder.

“Shhh, it’s gonna be okay. It’s gonna be okay,” repeated Astrid, running her fingers through his hair and hugging him closer. By the time Valka came upstairs with her dinner, he had stopped crying and settled back against the pillows, clutching Astrid’s hand for comfort.

“Here you go, Astrid,” Valka said, handing the blonde a warm plate of food. “And what about you, dear? How are you feeling?” She bent down and kissed Hiccup’s forehead. “Do you want any dessert? Or a soda?”

Hiccup shook his head. “No thanks, Mom.”

“Alright, well if you change your mind, just call me. I’ll be back to say goodnight in a little while. Just try not to worry too much, okay? I love you.”

“Love you, Mom.” Hiccup briefly hugged his mother before turning back to Astrid. “I’m just tired of the hospital. And surgery. And being stuck in bed. And I know the kids at school are gonna tease me if I show up with a cane. Or even a wheelchair.”

“They’re jerks if they tease you,” said Astrid, scooping noodles into her mouth. “But as for me, I’d much rather have you alive and needing a little help to walk than have you in your grave. Do you know how worried I was when I heard you were in an accident? And how scared I was when you were in your coma?”

“The coma was only two days,” Hiccup pointed out. “And seeing that I don’t remember it, it’s the least of my worries.”

“But from my perspective, all I could think about was, what if I lose my best friend?”

“And what kind of a friend will I be if I can’t do anything with you besides sit and talk?”

“I like talking to you,” shrugged Astrid. “And besides, you’ll be able to move around more soon. Even if it’s with some help. You’ll adapt.” She took a bite of fish. “You want any of this?”

He shook his head. “I already had some.”

“How about you put on Netflix or something so we can find a show to watch? As soon as I’m done eating, I’ll cuddle with you, too. I put on cozy clothes before I came here just for that reason.”

“What time are you getting up for school tomorrow?” Hiccup asked as he grabbed the remote.

“Six. I’ll try to leave without waking you, but I do have to give a warning that I have to set an alarm for myself.”

“Don’t worry about it. It’s not like I I can’t go back to sleep. I’m not going anywhere.”

“Are you still getting your assignments e-mailed to you?”

“Yeah. Right now I’m working on the project for my history elective, so at least I have something keeping me busy.”

“And you’re still making drawings to go with it?” Astrid asked between bites.

Hiccup nodded. “Yeah, wanna see?” He reached over and grabbed his sketchbook from the bedside table. “Here’s Thor and his hammer. And here’s some dragons. And here’s Freja and her cats.”

“They’re awesome.”

“I still have to color them in. I also have to draw Loki and Odin. And I want to do a scene of Vikings sitting in the Great Hall listening to stories. Then I have to get all these drawings on a poster and write a few paragraphs of background research for each of them. What about you? Any big projects you have to finish?”

“I have my AP bio exam coming up soon. That’s kicking my ass right now.” Astrid finished up her food and laid her plate aside. “But it’s okay.”

“And how’s it going with your boyfriend?”

“You mean David? He’s not my official boyfriend yet,” laughed Astrid. “But he is taking me out again on Friday night.”

“Is he treating you good?”

“Of course. I wouldn’t have agreed to a second date if he wasn’t.” She snuggled against Hiccup’s side. “By the way, what are we gonna watch?”

“Will you hate me if I put on Vikings? I know how much you love historical dramas.”

Astrid laughed. “Put on whatever you want. I’ll just snooze. But wake me up when this episode is over because I need a shower before bed.” She draped an arm across his middle.

Grinning, Hiccup pressed the play button before tossing the remote aside and hugging the blonde. “Your boyfriend won’t mind us cuddling, will he?” He winked.

Astrid playfully punched his bicep. “He’s not my boyfriend!” she insisted.

“That’s what you say,” teased Hiccup.

“And even if he was, he wouldn’t be any longer if he had a problem with our friendship.”

“Aww, you’d break up with your crush for me?”

“Of course. Friends come first.” She tugged the duvet over their bodies and kissed his tear-stained cheek. “I mean it. No matter what happens, I’m here for you.”

“Thanks,” returned Hiccup, squeezing her tighter and rubbing his nose against the side of her face. “And thanks for coming here tonight. This is exactly what I needed.”

“You’re allowed to kiss me, you know,” laughed Astrid as she felt him nuzzle her cheek. “You don’t have to do whatever this is.” She reached up and flicked the tip of his nose.

Smiling, Hiccup pressed kisses into Astrid’s hair and against her cheek. “There, is that enough for you?”

“I don’t know,” she shrugged playfully. “Maybe one more.”

Hiccup gave her cheek one last kiss before burying his face against her shoulder.

A warm feeling surged through Astrid’s veins as she let out a contented sigh and closed her eyes. “Alright. I’m gonna nap now. Remember, wake me up after this episode is over.”

“Maybe I will, maybe I won’t,” teased Hiccup.

“Unless you want me to walk around school smelling like a yak tomorrow, you’ll wake me.” She snuggled into his chest. “And Hiccup?”

“Yeah?”

“Everything will be okay.”

#hiccstrid #like heaven #like heaven au #fanfic #my writing #httyd #modern au #modern au hiccstrid #teenage hiccstrid

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