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melodyofmbaku · 4 years ago

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There Will Be No Tears (Chapter 1)

⚠️Warning: I won’t be continuing this series, just placing it here for posterity.🙏🏾 Thanks for understanding.

Prompt: “Don’t leave me. Don’t you dare leave me.” Word Count: 2.1k Warnings: So Much ANGST The boy squirmed slightly as you deftly lifted his sleeping form from his crib and nestled him in your arms. You smiled softly as you stared at the carbon copy of your husband swaddled in your arms. You couldn’t deny it, he was handsome. You placed a soft kiss to his cheek, and whispered sweet words of praise in his ears. You noticed a tear sliding down your cheek and quickly lifted your hand to wipe it away, swallowing deeply and repeating the mantra you had created to comfort you during trying times – there will be no tears. You turned and lifted the large baby bag you had packed earlier in the evening, hoisting it over your shoulder. It was full with supplies that would last a few days as you journeyed outside of your husband’s kingdom to a quiet and unsuspecting location, until you had found a place and settled down. You had decided that you and your son would live away from the palace, and have nothing to do with royalty. You’d live a quiet life, the way you used to before you met him. Maybe settle in the River Tribe, somewhere discreet, where you could find peace. You didn’t want any trouble. You took one last look around your 1 and a half year old son’s room, noticing the large rocking chair T’challa had bought for you the moment you he had discovered you were pregnant. You smiled at the memory – a small smile. The mantra played on repeat in your head. there will be no tears. You hurried out of the room closing the door quietly and began your walk to the west wing of the palace, where you would make your exit. Your eyes took in the architecture of the palace that had been your home for close to 3 years, you would miss it. It was where you had met T’challa. You had loved him, married him, and conceived your beloved son together in the walls of this building. How could you not miss it? Unfortunately, it was also the place that witnessed the breakdown of your marriage, the walls had heard every argument, saw every push, heard every insult, but worst of all it had heard your cries. The cries that had emitted from your lips as you realized that your beloved husband, the king had a lover. A lover who wasn’t you. You remembered the day you found out like it was yesterday, and you probably would for the rest of your life. __ You had woken up in the middle of the night and he wasn’t there. It wasn’t surprising for you to wake up with him gone in the middle of the night, He was king after all. He had a duty to his country and it was a job that did not give him the privilege of getting his 8-10 hours of sleep. Often times he would work through the night. You would always feel him slip back into bed as the sun rose, to kiss your cheeks and pull you close to him once again, returning just in time to spend a few minutes with you as you woke up. If you woke in the middle of the night and missed his presence he could be found in his office, huddled over a stack of papers, with a steaming cup of herbal tea to his side and his glasses on the tip of his nose. Sometimes you would watch him through a crack in the door and go back to bed, your heart content that he was fine. Other times you would give a little knock on the door and let your presence be known. He’d always welcome you in with a smile and pull you into his lap, leaving you with a kiss on your forehead. If you were really adamant, you’d manage to convince him to come back to bed, and he’d oblige. Every now and then you got comfortable in his lap and let him work as you slept for the duration of the night. This time was different. You had left your bed with a peace offering of herbal tea in hopes of resolving the quarrel that had you both going to bed with your backs facing each other. Instead of seeing T’challa huddled over a stack of papers you were met with a sight that would change the course of your relationship and Wakanda forever. You saw your husband, with his back facing you as a woman had her hands planted on his desk and her figure arching into his body. “You are my peace.” He said into the woman’s hair, as his arms rested loosely around her waist and his nose was buried in her hair. It was those words that broke you the most. He littered her neck with kisses as she reached back and ran her fingers through his coarse hair. Your husband’s hair. The whole scene made you sick to your stomach and you couldn’t help yourself as the saucer and teacup that held his favourite herbal tea slid out of your hands and crashed onto the polished marble floors of the palace. You were stunned for a second before you turned your back and walked hastily back to your quarters. “Y/N!” he called frantically. He murmured a few words to the woman in his office, took a few hurried strides across the room and closed the mahogany door of his office quietly. He then started his sprint towards you and grabbed your wrist pulling your body to him. “Y/N…” he said as his voice trailed off. He ran his fingers through the coils that sat atop his head – something he did when he was frustrated. “I’ve been going through a lot, it’s been hard on me you know?” He expected you to say something, but words couldn’t escape your lips. there will be no tears. You had thought that the increasing number of fights you had been having could be resolved by couples therapy, or communication, anything. You were wrong. This moment made you realize that nothing would solve this broken marriage, it was bigger than you. What you did know is that you wouldn’t have your son growing up in a loveless family, with puppets as parents. Finally, your found your voice. It was wobbly, and you didn’t know how he would take it but you tried anyways. “T’Challa?” A beat. “ I think we should… I don’t think we should… I can’t –“ you couldn’t finish your thoughts as he interrupted you. “Don’t leave me. Don’t you dare leave me.” He whispered as the grip on your wrist tightened. His head hung low, and he couldn’t look at you and instead chose to focus his sight on the floor. You took note of the pressure on your wrist, nodded and composed yourself. You pulled your wrist from his grip, smoothing the front of your night dress, and made you way back to your chambers. This time, he didn’t return. But you knew. You couldn’t stay. Your upbringing and dignity wouldn’t allow you to. You wouldn’t be a puppet queen. You couldn’t. It wasn’t in your nature. __ Weeks had passed since that night and you still operated on auto-pilot. You bathed, burped and played with your son as if nothing was wrong. You went to all your scheduled meetings as the queen, you picked out the linens for the dinners that were to be held in that quarter, you had lunches with T’Challa’s mother, you painted your nails, and braided your hair like you usually would. You spoke to your husband as if nothing was wrong. Replying when he asked you questions that he already knew the answer to just to get you to speak to him. “Y/N? Are we attending the Festival of Harvest this year?” he asked while looking at you expectantly looking for anything – something to indicate your anger. You busied yourself with the laundry you were folding and replied in an even tone “Of course, we attend every year don’t we? Why would this year be any different?” This year would be different. By the time the Festival of Harvest rolled around you and Kweku would have left the palace, never to attend another festival again. Prior to the discovery of his infidelity your interactions had been very different. You were bickering back and forth about almost everything. He would spend a few hours a day playing with his son but ignoring his wife. Often times he’d find you and plop Kweku on your lap and say “He needs his diaper changed, you can return him to me when you’re done.” When you questioned why he couldn’t change his diaper, he’d say “It’s the least you could do Y/N, you’re his mother.” In a condescending tone that you’d never thought would leave the mouth of your husband, your Challa. He would wait for you outside his nursery, and swoop him out of your arms when you exited the room without a word of thanks, and hurry along his way. When you expressed your tiredness while dealing with Kweku, juggling your palace duties, and trying to be a good wife at the same time, he’d simply ask “Y/N, could it be that you’re just not trying hard enough? You must learn to manage it.” T’Challa was never physical with you. Just dismissive, and condescending, and cold. This wasn’t the man you married. Whenever you expressed your concerns about his behavior he’d roll his eyes at you and try to placate you like a child. “If you’d just do what I suggest, you wouldn’t be getting yourself upset over nothing Y/N. Honestly, I don’t know if it’s the pregnancy hormones still swirling about in your system but I’m sure Shuri can help you out if you need it.” With these comments you’d just get more and more heated, which would result in many slammed doors, and a lot of raised voices. You could put up with the arguments, you could fix that, but giving himself to another woman? You couldn’t forgive. You knew you had to be objective with your exit. Though T’Challa had always been sweet to you until recently, he had the capacity to be cruel, he was the Black Panther after all. You wouldn’t put it past him to keep you in the palace as a captive if you made any attempts to leave him, especially with his son. During sex he’d let you know it was he who was dominating your body with skill that made you cry out wantonly every time. “You’re mine Y/N, say it!” he’d growl into your ear, and you would say it, because it was true. __ Your sons whining took you from your thoughts, and you remembered you had to be swift. There was only a small window that would allow you to leave undetected. You had been planning this for weeks. Waiting for the perfect moment. T’challa was gone on an annual hunting trip where many of the Dora Milaje would accompany him as he wouldn’t be in communication with the palace for 3 days. A lot could happen in 3 days. Today was day one, and you had planned to leave today as it would give you the most amount of time to get as far away from the palace as possible and leave undetected. The palace was still guarded, but loosely, and you knew all the blind spots. Perks of hanging out with Shuri in your down time. You snuck out the side door in the west wing, which led to an unsuspecting dirt road, spotting the cab you had arranged for idling in the shadows. Having already placed your small luggage in the cab before going back to retrieve your son it only took you a moment to settle yourself and a sleeping Kweku in the car. “What’s your destination?” the cab driver asked you curiously looking at your cloaked figure in the rear-view mirror. You took a deep breath and steadied your voice “Take us North, I’ll tell you where to stop.” The driver nodded his head and began the journey turning on a shitty American station that played pop music and country. You’d never forget this day. To you, it was monumental because you had managed to pull it off but it was also the day when you turned your back on your duty, your kingdom, your husband and your crown. When that realization struck you, the tears slid down your face disobediently. No matter what, you vowed to never look back

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pascalpanic · 4 years ago

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Picture Perfect (Marcus Pike x f!Reader)

Summary: You reflect on a perfect vacation with Marcus.

Warnings: language, talk of flying in planes, mentions of food, implied sexual content and sexual flirting

W/C: 3.6k

A/N: happy Easter loves!!! I really adore this fic and hope you guys do too! It’s part of the Beyond the Sea series I’m writing with the lovely @mandoalorian

Beyond The Sea Masterlist

You never thought you’d see the day when Agent Marcus Pike relaxed for more than a few hours at a time. Luckily, your hand holds three Polaroids, all of them proof of the wonderful week of rest and recharging the two of you just experienced. The plane is leaving now, the islands of Hawaii behind you and endless ocean outside of your plane window. Marcus is snoozing softly, head pressed to your shoulder, and you press a kiss to his beautiful temple. This is the man who holds all of your heart in his hands, and you’ve never been so sure that someone would protect it with their life.

He stirs at the sensation and you chuckle quietly. The roar of the airplane’s pressurized cabin makes everything quieter, and you smile as those brown eyes flutter open. “Just me. Love you. Go back to sleep, babe,” you murmur, and he complies, eyes slipping shut as he nuzzles closer. You look down at your hands again, at the three Polaroids.

The first photo makes you giggle. It was taken the first full day the two of you had in town. Marcus holds a tiny crab in his hands, a look of wonder on his sun-kissed face. He’s shirtless and crouched down, wet sand packed beneath him and patterned swim trunks bringing color to the photo.

The second photo melts your heart. Marcus lies in a hammock in the Polaroid, asleep in the shade. Stripes of light peek through palm fronds, illuminating bits of your boyfriend’s warm body. He wears board shorts and an unbuttoned Hawaiian shirt, his normally gelled hair forming soft waves. The sun you’ve spent your days in lightened it, leaving light brown and even blonde streaks in the top layer. A soft pink covers his nose and cheeks- a result of the sun as well. His ukulele is lying next to him in the hammock.

The third photo makes you tear up at the memory. Two dark silhouettes- one clearly yours and one clearly his- are just outlined against an orange, sunset-colored sky.

You and Marcus arrived at your condo late at night, tired after the long flights, both cross-country and then across the Pacific Ocean. You’d flown first-class, Marcus insisting he spoil you. It was comfortable, but the pressure of the cabin made your body ache and your joints swell. It was impossible to sleep, even with him to use as a pillow.

The first morning, Marcus rises late: it’s about 10 A.M. local time, and he sighs as he finds you still snoring next to him. You look so peaceful and sweet that he can’t bring himself to wake you.

For the next half hour, he sits on the condo’s porch, overlooking the water. He smiles softly as the occasional breeze passes through, noticing that the air slowly warms.

When you finally wake, you wander out to find Marcus on the balcony. You gasp in excitement as you see the rushing surf. “Oh my god,” you grin and wrap your arms around him from behind. “It’s so gorgeous.”

“Good morning to you too,” he teases as his hands rest on your arms. “Isn’t it though?” He leans back against you, watching the seagulls play in the splashing water. “How did you sleep?” He asks, still eyeing the sprawling ocean. There’s a small reef a few yards from the shore, shallow enough to walk in.

You notice it too. “Good. Can we make some coffee then go explore those little tidal pools?” You ask excitedly as you point at them, resting your chin atop Marcus’s chocolate-brown bed head.

“Of course,” he chuckles, turning to kiss the side of your face. “It’s the perfect time to get some sun, too. We’ll get our swim gear on.”

You press a soft kiss into the top of his head, smiling contentedly at the ocean and Marcus’s steady breathing beneath your arms. “I love you,” you practically sing to him, overwhelmed by the happiness of the morning.

“I love you too, pretty girl,” he murmurs back and turns to kiss you softly.

Twenty minutes later, each of you finished with one cup of coffee and changed into your bathing suits, you head down to the water and wade in. You squeal as the cold water laps at your ankles, your pink Polaroid camera hanging around your neck. One hand clutches at the pink plastic, lifting it instinctually to keep it dry. Marcus laughs and takes your free hand, the two of you commenting on the water and the sun as you wander to the rocky shoals a few yards out.

The volcanic rock in front of you is filled with holes and crevices, and it’s teeming with life. Marcus’s eyes widen in excitement as he sees a tiny crab. “Oh my god,” he laughs. “Look at this little guy!”

Walking closer, the crab doesn’t scuttle away. “Oh, do you want to be friends?” Marcus coos, squatting down.

“Careful of the waves, babe,” you remind him, a hand on his spine, between those gorgeously thick shoulder blades. “Don’t wanna get a concussion.”

Marcus shakes his head, absolutely beaming as he scoops up the little crab. “Oh, aren’t you the sweetest thing,” he mumbles to it, admiring its brown shell and tiny claws. “You remind me of that guy from Moana.”

Of course your boyfriend would draw that connection. He mutters the lyrics to Shiny from the movie to the crab as he turns to face you, holding it up. “Look, this is our baby now.”

You laugh and shake your head. “Well, I suppose our child needs a name,” you chuckle, daring to stroke the back of the crab’s shell. It snaps its little claws in return, grabbing at nothing in the air.

“Well, how about the crab from Moana? The Tamatoa?” He asks. The little thing’s claws are clacking rhythmically to some inaudible beat.

“Hmm.” You think about it for a moment, lifting the camera and snapping a photo of Marcus holding the tiny crab. “It’s a snippy little thing. Maybe we should name it Teresa,” you snort, laughing to yourself at your own joke.

Marcus frowns. “No, I like it much more than her. You’re our little Tamatoa, aren’t you?” He coos, holding it up to give it a little kiss on the back of his shell.

Classic, typical Marcus. Giving all of his love with no regard for his own safety. You almost see it in slow motion as the tiny crab snips the tip of Marcus’s nose. “Motherfucker,” he cries at the feeling, setting the crab back down immediately.

It makes you laugh much harder than you should. Leaning onto your boyfriend’s tanning skin, you wheeze out laugh after laugh. He joins you too.

When you both finally settle down and catch your breath, you giggle up at Marcus. “Okay, so that little shit was definitely a Teresa.”

Marcus laughs this time, giving you a brief kiss. “You are the absolute love of my fucking life, baby,” he chuckles and the two of you continue your walk.

Marcus has always been an early riser, and you forgot to close the shades last night before you passed out in the ridiculously plush bed. The early sunrise warms Marcus’s face until he wakes. He rolls over with a yawn and a stretch before kissing the side of your face. You grunt. “Hi.”

“Good morning, angel,” Marcus’s soft voice coos to you, an arm snaking around your middle. “The sunrise looks beautiful. Want to see?”

“No,” you frown. “Wanna sleep more.”

Marcus pouts, kissing your forehead. “Baby.”

“Fine,” you groan, the sleep starting to wear off anyway. “Only because I love you so much. And because I love your dick and don’t want it withheld from me this week,” you tease, sitting up and kissing him softly.

“Yeah yeah,” he laughs and stands, wandering over to the large window in the bedroom.

Your eyes widen at the beauty as you see the gorgeous colors of the sky. The sunrise is behind you, but the horizon is still shifting in hue, pinks and purples and oranges with the dark blue slowly fading away. Marcus wraps his arms around you as you stand next to him. “See. This wasn’t so bad to get out of bed for.”

Nodding, you rest your head against his chest. “I suppose it wasn’t. I’ll go make us coffee,” you murmur and press a kiss to his bare pec, giving his ass a light squeeze as you walk past him.

The two of you make your plans for the day over the coffee, discussing your options and ultimately choosing that today would be the perfect day to find a secluded little beach and just relax in the sun. They wouldn’t be hard to find around here: unlike other places you’d been, it seemed like the shore was endlessly beach.

Parking in a free lot, locking your ragtop Jeep behind you, you and Marcus wander down the beach for a while until you find the perfect spot. How did you know? Marcus spotted the perfect marker: a hammock.

Tied between two palm trees, under the shade of the fronds, was a woven hammock. It had no pillows, blankets, no one around and no belongings. Marcus decided it was yours now- or at least for the day.

The white sand is warm beneath your feet, flying out as Marcus chases you. You’d stolen his sunglasses just moments ago and now you’re running. “Get back here!”

“Only if you fuck me right here and right now!” You teasingly call over your shoulder.

Marcus stops, as if he’s considering it. You do too. Then he picks up into a faster run. “There’s too much sand for that, you little shit!”

Giggling, you stop and let Marcus crash into you, his warm body slick from the tanning oil he’d slathered on. You naturally wrap your arms around his neck. Marcus plucks the sunglasses from your head and puts them back on. “Thank you.”

“Any time, Pikey,” you tease and kiss him softly as his arms wrap around your waist. That was the name you’d called him when you first met, when you were young, up-and-coming interns for the FBI.

The two of you wander back, lying on your beach towels for hours and absorbing the warm rays. You and Marcus snack on some packed food, staring out into the ocean and chatting. It’s absolutely perfect.

Marcus is ever the early riser. You’re usually the one to end up taking a nap if the last night of sleep didn’t satisfy you or Marcus woke you up for some godforsaken reason. As he lies next to you, though, you hear a yawn slip from his lips. “Sorry, what was that?” You clarify teasingly.

Marcus scowls. “I get tired too.”

“Bullshit,” you laugh. “Do you want to go cuddle in the hammock?” You ask, and he nods as he sits up.

Marcus is wearing just his board shorts, but there’s a cool breeze in the shade. He tosses on his Hawaiian shirt, leaving it unbuttoned. He looks so effortlessly cool, that brown hair starting to get slightly wavy from the salty air. His sunglasses sit just slightly lower on the bridge of his aquiline nose, and it makes you grin. You toss a t-shirt on as well, and you grin as you realize Marcus opens his ukulele case.

“I knew you’d use it,” you grin at him as he settles in the hammock. He’d debated bringing it along, contemplating the hassle, but you’d told him he practically had to- you’re in Hawaii, after all. You scoot in next to him and rest your head on his shoulder.

“Will you play me a song by Abba?” You ask him softly, the rush of the ocean and the wind filling your ears.

Marcus nods and kisses your forehead before giving the strings a strum to test some chords. He finally starts playing a soft version of Andante Andante, and your eyes slip shut. His voice is so beautiful and soothing, and you can’t help but quietly sing along.

“I’m your music… I’m your song…

Play me time and time again, make me strong…”

He’s everything you’ve ever wanted, ever prayed to whatever being up there that you’d meet the right person for you someday. He’s soft and warm and strong. He’s protective but gentle and the most caring man to ever walk the face of the earth.

Marcus starts noodling around on the ukulele, playing some random chords and notes. “I love you so much,” you sigh and snuggle in tighter against him.

He puts down the ukulele and wraps his arms around you, kissing your temple gently. “I love you too, baby. So much, endlessly.” He’s so perfectly cozy that you cuddle on top of him, and he welcomes the position. He wraps his arms around your body and kisses your neck.

The two of you stay cuddled up like that, tired from the long day in the sun, for quite a while. Before long, you recognize the different breathing pattern Marcus has slipped into- sleep. Smiling softly, you allow yourself to remain nuzzled into your boyfriend’s body for a while longer.

After some time, you sigh and realize you should probably wake him and return to the condo. The sun is starting to sink lower in the sky: not enough to be sunset, but enough to know what’s approaching. Careful not to wake him, you clamber out of the hammock and grin at the image. It’s too perfect.

You grab your Polaroid and snap the photo: Marcus is asleep, sunglasses fallen down his nose, Hawaiian shirt open, ukulele next to him. The hammock sways in the breeze, peeks of light from between palm leaves shining down on him. You giggle when the photo develops and it’s the sound of your laughter that wakes him. “Huh?” He groans, sitting up and losing his balance as he realizes his resting spot is moving.

You walk over on your knees, the sand moving with you and allowing you to do so. You kiss him gently for a moment before breaking away. “You fell asleep, love. It’s just about time to head back to the condo.”

“How long?” He asks groggily, pushing up his sunglasses and rubbing his eyes.

“You were only out for about half an hour,” you assure him and rub his arm.

His eyes are still closed but he smiles at that. “I heard you take that Polaroid,” he chuckles, and pulls you in for another kiss that muffles your noise of defeat.

Two days later, you can hear Marcus singing along to his music in the shower as you get ready for the evening. Sitting at the vanity in the suite’s luxurious bathroom, you apply your makeup, opting to keep things light. You wear a nice outfit and fidget with your appearance in the mirror, touching little things here and there.

A few minutes later, Marcus wanders out with a towel around his waist, his skin reddened from the hot shower. “Hey. You look… amazing,” he grins as he looks at you, taking in the sight. “I can’t compete.”

You grin and walk closer, putting a hand on his warm skin. “It’s a good thing it’s not a competition,” you tease, faces close together. “You’re going to look wonderful too.” You kiss him softly for a moment before he breaks away to get dressed.

The sun is above the horizon, just about to sink into sunset. Fuck, Marcus thinks to himself as he realizes he needs to move quickly. He puts on the nice outfit he’d picked earlier, messing with his hair in the mirror. Not more than few minutes later, he’s back at your side. “Ready?” He asks.

You nod with a smile. “You hurried.”

Marcus shrugs, pursing his lips and shaking his head. You know that look, you’ve known it since the very first time he did it. He’s terrible at bluffing. Something is hidden behind those eyes. “Just… don’t wanna miss sunset,” he murmurs and kisses you on the cheek, shoving his hands in his pockets.

You’d planned on dinner at a luxurious restaurant located within a fancy hotel, but Marcus insisted that you’d be at the beach for the sunset. When you finally reach the resort, you wander through the gorgeous surroundings until you find the white sand beach in front of you.

Marcus walks with one hand in yours, the other in his pocket. He’s quieter than normal, holding back his remarks about the wildlife and gorgeous architecture of the buildings.

There’s a small gazebo just off the sand, and Marcus walks you up. “Well… surprise,” he chuckles, showing you the little shelter. It’s strung with twinkling lights and white gauze, the ocean’s breeze rippling the fabric. There’s a table with a white cloth covering it, champagne glasses at the ready and flowers sat in the center.

“I thought you said we were eating at the restaurant,” you exclaim but laugh in surprise, setting your purse and Polaroid camera next to the chair.

His eyes twinkle with excitement. “Well, they offered this. How could I choose the restaurant when we could have dinner in our own little private gazebo?” He chuckles. “They won’t start the service for a little while. Want to go walk on the beach a little longer?”

“Marcus,” you coo and take his arm, wrapping both of your arms around it. “You’re the most romantic man on the face of the earth.”

He shakes his head and kisses your forehead. “Only for you. Come on, let’s walk.”

The two of you stroll along, the gorgeous sunset behind the dark and rolling ocean. The breeze rustles Marcus’s hair, and you grin as you see it happen. “This is… amazing.”

“You’re amazing,” he mumbles and nudges you with his shoulder, making you stumble to the side and laugh. “Can I ask you something?”

Looking up at him, you breathe out a small laugh. “When have you ever asked first?” You tease him, but you stop when he stops walking.

His hand squeezes yours a little tighter and he moves so you’re no longer standing side-to-side but facing each other. He takes both of your hands. “You know how much I love you. I really can’t imagine you wouldn’t, because I know you love me just the same.”

Your brain flies a mile a minute as he starts talking. It sounds too planned, not at all the spontaneous man your Marcus is and has always been. Wait-

“You are, without a doubt, the best thing in my life. I’ve been burned by love before, but you’re everything I’ve ever needed. You’re the only one who has ever reassured me and calmed me and silenced that endless buzzing of fear in my head. I know you’d never leave me, and I hope you know I’d never leave you.”

“Marcus,” you whisper, and your eyes well with tears as he falls to one knee in the soft sand, his own eyes shimmering with tears.

“And, if it’s alright with you, I want to promise you I’ll never leave you. I want to make it so official that nothing can ever separate us, not time or distance or anything. And I figured the best way to do that is, well… fuck, I messed it up,” he winces. “I had all the words, I swear-“

“Just ask me the question, baby,” you laugh, the tears falling down your face. You know what’s coming now, as he reaches into his pocket and presents you with a velvet box.

He opens it and inside is the most gorgeous ring you’ve ever seen. It suits you. Of course it does: Marcus knows you better than you know yourself. You can tell when you look into his eyes that no one else ever would or could know you like he does.

He stutters for a moment before you fall to your knees in the sand in front of him. “It’s okay, you know what I’m gonna say,” you say quietly, cupping his face with both hands. “Just… say it. Please.”

He bites his lip then looks into your eyes. “Will you marry me?”

“Of course I will,” you laugh and wrap your arms around his neck, kissing him happily. “Yes, Marcus Pike. I will marry you. I love you so much,” you murmur in between kisses.

“I’m so pathetic,” he laughs as the happy tears trail down both of your faces, him sitting back on his heels and you following suit.

“Oh shut up,” you laugh and hold out your left hand. Marcus takes the ring from the small box and slides it onto your finger, grinning as he notices it fits just right.

Swallowing hard, you laugh at the fact that your makeup must be trailing down your face. Marcus wipes the tears with one large hand, his other cupping yours and admiring the way the ring looks against your skin. He kisses your knuckles and you giggle uncontrollably.

“I get to be Mrs. Pikey now,” you grin and he nods.

“Of course. I mean, if you want to take my name. You don’t have to,” he rushes, shaking his head and blowing a raspberry. “I didn’t even think about that really, just figured that you’d tell me what you wanted first.” His words are a blur of relief, the anxiety fading from his body.

“Marcus,” you laugh softly, your hands cupping his face once more. “It’s okay. Just… relax,” you laugh as one of his hands covers yours, his fingers slotting between yours.

He nods. “I think I finally can now,” he chuckles and kisses you one last time.

taglist:

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#marcus pike #marcus pike x reader #marcus pike headcanons #pedro pascal #jose pedro balmaceda pascal #pedro pascal fanfiction #pedro pascal x reader #the mentalist fanfiction #the mentalist

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avengers-age-of-fanfics · 4 years ago

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just for you, honeybee (2/?)

pairing: bucky barnes x reader, steve rogers x reader (platonic)

word count: 2,107

authors note: second part of this ongoing series! i still don't know how many parts this is going to be but i seriously want to finish this lmao. hopefully this will be a series i actually complete! please leave feedback - i truly appreciate it!

warnings: mention of bucky's death, uncontrollable sobbing, character death, a few curse words

summary: dating back to 1943, you, james barnes, and steve rogers were best friends, including bucky being your boyfriend. when you get a notice that bucky died in the war, you make it your mission to find closure for yourself and protect steve as he is the only remaining piece of bucky you have left. once you are offered the super soldier serum, you and steve must make your way through world war 2 - and the unknown future hardships to come.

recap: Steve seemed shocked that you were able to read him like that, but was defeated. With a sigh, he turned and reached into his handbag, pulling out a file, “there was this Doctor there, Doctor Erskine, who uh – he approved me for the army, y/n. But it’s for an experiment, something they call a super-soldier experiment, I’m not sure. I’m going – I leave in a couple days.”

How is your world falling apart this quickly?

Sending Steve off was honestly just as painful as it was when Bucky was shipped off. You didn’t want to guilt-trip Steve into staying – you knew how important it was to him to join the army and do something. However, now you were completely alone. You knew you had Becca and you could always write to Bucky and Steve, but it just wasn’t the same.

Both of your boys were gone.

Once Steve had told you about this super-soldier serum experiment, you chewed his ear off for a good 10 minutes. It was brutal, to say the least, and while pacing in your small living room, Steve sat in his seat, hands folded as he waited for you to finish.

This was his final chance to get into the army and while he hated the idea of leaving you, he needed to do something, not only with his life, but with the army. He needed to prove himself. He knew you could take care of yourself – you were independent and a firecracker – there was nothing you couldn’t do. However, while slowly trying to convince himself that you would be okay, Steve was also having a midlife crisis of his own friendship with Bucky. If he found out he left you alone while the both of them were at war, Steve knew Bucky’s reaction wasn’t going to be great.

Once you were done tearing Steve a new one, telling him that you supported him all the way, but you honestly wished he would stay – and possibly called him a dipshit in between all of that – you calmed down. With a quiet voice, you looked to Steve, “can I at least send you off?”

Steve felt his cheeks grow warm and let a smile slip onto his lips, “I would be honored if my biggest fan were there.”

You shoved his shoulder lightly, “shut it, you fat-head. C’mon, we gotta get you all dolled up.”

While it was just as painful to see Steve go, you knew he’d be in good hands and wouldn’t do anything too stupid. You had told him sternly, “I want the name of your commanding officer, his commanding officer, and any fat-headed buffoons that are in charge at your camp, okay?”

Steve had shaken his head, “yes mom, whatever you say.” His eyes rolled but he had a smile on his face, “just so you can keep an eye on me?”

You hummed, “that, and to know whose ass I hav’ta kick if anything happens to you, Stevie. And if you see Bucky, you tell him I love him, you hear?”

Steve saluted before he headed towards the platform, “love ya, y/n!”

You had a small smile on your life, “love you too, Rogers. Kill some Nazis for me.”

That interaction was nearly 6 months ago, and every day felt like a new hill you had to climb over. You sent postcards to both Steve and Bucky in hopes that they would respond every time you sent one, but that wasn’t the case. You weren’t mad, nor upset, just lonely. Steve had let you know that the serum worked and he had been reunited with Bucky after taking over a HYDRA base where you learned Buck was captured. God, that letter caused you so much turmoil and anxiety, but Steve had calmed your fears, letting you know that Bucky was okay. You had also recognized his handwriting at the end, “can’t get rid of me that easily, honeybee. I love you.”

You hadn’t heard from them in a couple weeks, and your anxiety was beginning to show. Nothing new had happened, so you truly had no reason to write to them, but you did anyway, just updating them both on your life and how much you missed them. You had seen Captain America’s tours and his posters all over Brooklyn, and you were so proud of your Steve.

But it was weird seeing him so tall and…built.

Tearing your eyes away from another Captain America poster with his boys behind him, you continued your journey to some local shops, stocking up on groceries and possibly a new pair of shoes. Brooklyn was quiet today, which was certainly odd; there was nothing ominous about it, but it was not something anyone there was used to.

Hands skimming through some plums, you picked one that you knew Bucky would love. With a soft smile, you put the fruit in your basket, continuing through the store until you heard quiet whispers:

“Are you sure he’s here? The Captain America?”

“Mary, I told you, I saw him clear as day; no clue where the man was headin’, but he’s here.”

“Is there a tour or somethin’ here in Brooklyn?”

“Mary…I ain’t no mind reader, he could be stoppin’ by before he goes back off to war.”

Your heart nearly exploded out of your chest. Steve was here, back in Brooklyn? Wait – if Steve was here, then Bucky could be, too!

Quickly dropping the items you had in your hands, you ran out of the grocery store as fast as your heels would let you, passing by Grover in such a rush, he couldn’t even say hello. Crossing the street in a hurry, you grabbed your purse tightly and ran up your apartment fire escape stairs. Once you reached your floor, you grabbed your key and opened the door, being met with your Steve Grant Rogers and a very beautiful woman dressed in an army’s uniform.

“I – holy shit, Steve – oh my god,” you stumbled, out of breath as Steve stood up, towering over you, “I thought you were smaller.”

Steve stepped forward, hands out in case you fell or needed a hug, “side effect of that serum I told you about, remember?” The woman behind him gave Steve a look at the mention.

You caught your breath, “give me a hug, you doofus! Oh my gosh, those letters do you no good – nor do the posters!”

The two of you embraced as Steve held you in his arms, careful of his trembling hands, “’used my spare key, hope you don’t mind.”

You ran your hands over his back and his hair, “I get to see my best friend again, I don’t care how you got in here. Now, where’s Jamie, I – I need’ta see him.”

Steve pulled away and laid his hands on your shoulders, “actually, I wanted you to meet someone before… this is uh, Peggy Carter, she’s an agent of that Strategic Scientific Reserve for the serum and one of the best. Peg, this is y/n, the one who wrote to me and…Bucky, all the time.”

Peggy stood up, hand outstretched towards you as you shook hers, “nice to finally meet you, y/n. Steve here talked lots about you.”

You didn’t fail to notice her solemn look and the file of papers tucked underneath her other arm, “it’s, um, nice to meet you too, Agent Carter.”

The three of you stood in silence as Steve guided you to the remaining chair in the living room. With a bite to your lip, you turned towards Peggy, “I hate to be so forward, Agent, but I’ve seen those files before. I know what – what they mean.”

“Y/N,“ Steve began, “please let her –“

You cut Steve off, “Stevie…where is James?” Your eyes immediately started to fill with tears but you held them back for the sake of your own.

Peggy cleared her throat, “Miss L/N, there was a mission that included James Buchanan Barnes and during that mission, a part of the train that the soldiers were riding on exploded. Amongst the fight, we believe Barnes –“

Steve stopped her, “Peg, she – she doesn’t need to know how…”

Tears escaped your eyes as you looked at your best friend, “Stevie… Is he..?”

Steve ran his hands over his face, “he – he was hangin’ onto the side of the train, y/n, and I let him fall. I couldn’t reach him and…”

The rest of Steve’s story fell upon deaf ears. No, not deaf ears, but ones that were ringing. Bucky was dead. He was dead. He fell off a train and was dead. He wasn’t coming home.

Bucky wasn’t coming home to you.

At that revelation, your body began to shake uncontrollably as the tears fell from your eyes, unable to be stopped. You tried to breathe but the pressure on your chest was unbearable. You tried to look at Steve, but your eyes were so blurry, “St-“

No words left your mouth, only the sounds of your sobbing. Steve leaped forward, wrapping his arms around you as you cried, screamed for Bucky, for your Jamie.

"No, no, not James! Steve, please!" you cried, falling onto the floor with Steve as he held you.

Peggy let her own tear slip, overwhelmed with your reaction. Leaving his dog tags, his files, and a medal on your table, she stepped out of your apartment.

Mrs. Betty Davis stepped out of her apartment just as Peggy shut the door, hoping nobody heard your cries and screams for James. Mrs. Davis looked to Peggy, “that boy, Barnes… he never came home?”

Peggy wiped her stray tear and cleared her throat, “I’m afraid not, ma’am. He died an honorable death, taking down a,” she paused, “a Nazi base.”

Mrs. Davis shifted her gaze to the door where she could clearly hear you crying and yelling for Bucky, that he wasn’t dead. She looked down to her welcome mat, “he was a good man, always takin’ care of that girl. His heart beat for her, he turned her world. Wouldn’t surprise anyone if he had a ring lyin’ around. She was just as in love with him as he was her.”

Peggy’s eyes filled up with tears as your neighbor explained you and Bucky’s love for one another, “I had only met him once but he… he seemed genuinely good.”

Mrs. Davis gave a sad smile, “he was. Thank you…for letting me know.” Peggy nodded at her.

Back inside, your tears had stained Steve’s shirt as he held you close, “I know y/n, I – I know. I got you.”

You had stopped screaming for Bucky, but your hands shook as they held onto Steve, fresh tears still running down your cheeks. With a shaky breath, you grasped onto Steve’s shirt, “do – do you think he was in pain?”

Steve let his own tears slip but held his own, “I don’t know y/n, but I’d like to think he wasn’t. He – uh – he told me, before he fell… he told me to tell his honeybee that he loves you so, so much and he – he wanted you to have his tags.”

You pulled away from Steve’s chest, looking at him in slight confusion, “his…tags?” It had then dawned on you:

Bucky wanted you to have his dog tags from the army.

Feeling a new thread of tears about to be shed, your lip quivered but you covered it up, glancing over the room until you saw the file Peggy had sat on the table. With shaky hands, you leaned towards your coffee table – the one that Bucky would rest his feet upon all the time until you smacked them off – and grabbed the file. Opening it up, you immediately saw his army identification photo and his dog tags hanging in the middle of the file.

You shut the flimsy piece of paper before you could cry anymore. Turning to Steve, you noticed his eyes were also red from crying, “what now?”

Steve and you now sat on the floor, backs resting on one of your chairs, “I hav’ta finish what I started, with Johann Schmidt and Zola. Can I be honest with you?”

You nodded your head, wiping your remaining tears on your shirt, “of – of course Steve.”

He let out a shaky breath, “I wish I could take away your pain, but I can’t. Before Buck was shipped off, I promised him I would take care of you, and right now, I need to be here for you. So, if you want to, I can ask Peg if you can come along with us, with me, and once I’m done, we can… we can do whatever you want to do.”

You picked at your nails, anxiety swallowing you whole, “and what if you don’t make it back, either?”

“I will.”

Honeybee Taglist:

@clownerlyluv

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streetlight11 · 4 years ago

Text

Our Magic

Theme: superpowers au, sort of enemies to lovers

Genre: fluff, very mild angst if you squint

WC: 1.9k

Pairing: Teleporter!San x Telekinetic!FemReader

a/n: Hi :) For those of you who is confused, the theme of this fic is based on the game called 'Choices' and the specific book this idea came from was called 'The Elementalists'. I'll include pictures of the facilities mentioned in this so that you have a general idea of how it looks like! Anyways, the fic doesn't really have a deep plot here, I just jumped straight to the fluffy end. Enjoy 😅

~~~

Penderghast College was a school that provides education and home for kids that were born with supernatural powers. It was a bright Thursday afternoon and it was currently lunch time as the students bustled through the halls, garden, corridors and also the dining hall.

“Hey, did you guys finish the assignment on the spell yesterday?” Yunho asked as some of the boys sitting at that table shook their heads. A series of complaints leaving their lips at the mention of their dreadful assignment.

“I got stuck at the third spell so I gave up.” Wooyoung said while taking a bite out of the Bourbon Apple Pie.

“I don’t understand a single thing he said in class.” San sighed, making Hongjoong and Jongho agree. Just as he was about to scoop up a chunk of his shaved ice dessert, the bowl began to float upwards. It hovered in front of his face for a good few seconds.

“What the-” San whispered as he began to see red smoke surrounding the bowl. This was a dead giveaway on who was behind this.

With that, San scanned the cafeteria in search of this person only for him to finally lock eyes with the girl who has been diligently getting on his nerves. There she was, sitting in her seat almost across the hall with her friends. Her eyes began to glow red, her finger swirling around slowly in the air as she pointed her finger right in his direction.

She smirked when she locked eyes with him and with one soft flick of her fingers, the dessert bowl tipped over. It splashed onto his shirt, making him jolt out of the seat abruptly. This was enough to catch the attention of others, turning their heads in his direction out of curiosity.

She scoffed a laugh as one of her friends turned to her with a small frown.

“Y/N, don't you think that’s a bit mean?” Changmin asked but the girl only shrugged.

“I just love making him mad.” She confessed, only for a sudden tight grip around her shoulders made her scoff. San suddenly appeared behind her, pulling her in a headlock.

“Do you ever stop?” San growled in her ear.

Just then, San sharply pulled away when he felt hot sparks nipping at his skin thanks to her red flames of energy she radiated off her body. She turned around to him with a small smile dancing on her lips.

“Do you want me to?”

“Fucking yes!”

“Then no.” She smirked.

With a grunt of annoyance, San flashed out of the cafeteria and into his dorm room. Y/N laughed as she turned back to her friends, only to see Changmin glaring at her.

“What?” She shrugged her shoulders without feeling a single guilt which made Changmin sigh, clearly not agreeing with what she did even though he wasn’t actually friends with San.

A few weeks later, San couldn’t sleep so he snuck out of the dorm building, only to head towards the Wood Nymph Forest, successfully sneaking past the carved marble figure. He was just randomly teleporting at a 10 feet distance from left to right, front to back when he heard bickering from somewhere.

He tried to find the source, only to see two shadowy figures just a few metres down from him diagonally. He teleported to the nearby tree that hides him from the sight of whoever it was.

However, when he arrived behind the tree, the voice sounded oddly familiar. And for the first time, she sounds like she was… crying?

“You’re leaving me for the girl you called atrocious just yesterday? What happened to your promises? Was I never good enough for you?” Y/N asked as her tears rolled down little by little, her voice cracking here and there.

“Look, people change and feelings definitely change too.”

“So you’re telling me, all these months of spending time together, buying little gifts for each other, sneaking out at night just to watch the starry night, going on midnight adventures, they’re all nothing to you now?” Y/N asked in which he nodded without a single doubt.

This was enough to break her heart into pieces.

“Tell me what I lack from her, I can try to change. I can try to be like her. Just tell me. Please Minhyuk!”

“Y/N! I already said I don’t have feelings for you anymore and that’s that! I’m breaking up with you whether you like it or not.” With that being said, Minhyuk began to disintegrate with the wind, since that was his form of teleportation.

“Minhyuk… Kang Minhyuk!” Y/N called desperately as she fell to the ground, her knees suddenly buckled letting gravity sink her down to earth.

Her cries were soft. San watched her body slowly begin to ignite red hues of smoke around her body.

Normally, in some circumstances, San would just turn around and walk away whenever it comes to her. He couldn’t even bring himself to fight back with her sometimes simply because he wanted nothing to do with her.

But that night, something in him was screaming at him to comfort her. Maybe it has been doing that all along, he just didn’t want to.

But before he could take a step forward, she already got up and began walking further into the woods to where he remembers the lake to be. He followed behind her at quite a distance to avoid being noticed by her. She soon arrived at the lake, only to plop on the pebbled floor inches away from the lake as the water crashed onto shore in gentle waves.

She buried her face in her arms that were hugging her knees tightly, completely blocking out the world. Even though she could definitely sense his presence behind her, she simply continued crying.

San sighed softly, carefully reappearing a foot behind her body. He silently took a seat beside her. She finally looked up, turning her head away from him as she wiped her tears with the sleeves of her sweater.

“What are you doing here?” She asked, her voice cold as he stared at the side of her face, only for his gaze to drop to her neck.

“Unfortunately for you, I just so happened to be around that area when you had that fight with your boyfriend-”

“Ex-boyfriend.” She corrected him and he simply nodded.

“Right…”

The both of them fell silent as she turned back in front only for her gaze to drop to her promise ring she had on from when Minhyuk bought it for her on their first month together.

She quietly took it out of her ring finger, only to levitate it in her palm before it disintegrated into red dust in her hands.

“Why do the people I care for the most always end up leaving me?” She suddenly questioned him. Since he was quiet, she turned to look at him.

He didn’t look shocked, nor did he look like he was about to tease her. Instead, his eyes were soft, just staring at her innocently.

“Sometimes when people leave you, it’s for the good reason. Maybe they were going to be a bad company for you in the future? Might be that they’ve grown in such a way that they don’t see themselves matching with your personality? Might also be that they came into your life as a test for you.” San said, only for her to break eye contact. Turning back ahead to divert her gaze and stare at the waters instead.

“If you were him, would you leave me too?” Her question came as a surprise for him, making him nearly choke on his own saliva.

“If it’s something that we both can work on together, then I wouldn’t.” He said, in which she slowly nodded. But her mind was still somewhere else. Just then, a bright idea flashed in his mind as he got up, only for her eyes to follow his figure.

“Let’s go. Get up.” He suddenly proposed, catching her off guard.

“Go where?” She asked slightly taken aback, holding his hand out for her to take.

“Have fun.”

“What are you talking about?”

“Oh come on!” San said with a smile, grabbing her hands and dragged her onto her feet as he began running towards the waters. She yelped the minute her legs got splashed by the waters. However, he continued to pull her in deeper.

“Ahh! San! I didn’t bring any more clothes!” She squeaked as he chuckled, telling her that it was fine and for her to just relax. They were now waist deep. Her shorts and the bottom part of her sweater was already soaked.

Just then, San let go of her hand only to disappear. She jumped back in shock, looking around to see her alone in the middle of the water.

Right at that moment, something grabbed her by the waist and pulled her down, only for her to dunk her body by accident up to her chin. San reappeared onto the surface only to gasp for air. Laughing before wiping his face off the water droplets.

“Choi San!” She scolded him but the boy didn’t seem to be taking her seriously. For some reason, she didn’t feel annoyed. In fact, she actually felt happy. A small smile tugged on her lips as he splashed a handful of water on her, causing her to gasp.

They played around for quite a bit, that wasn’t until Y/N’s feet slipped past a sudden drop in the lake.

She lost her balance when she submerged fully about a foot in before San appeared in front of her only to teleport onto a shallow end. She gripped onto his shoulders tightly while he wrapped his arms around her waist to prevent her from slipping. Both of them gasped for air as they tried to catch their breath.

“Are you okay?” He asked softly, making her look at him in the eyes only to feel a sudden wash of shyness come through her.

Why did she feel this way when she’s been nothing but a nuisance to him all this while?

She nodded softly as he whispered a soft ‘okay’ before his eyes travelled down to her lips. San was so sure he found her annoying before but why is he feeling this now?

He leaned in little by little, feeling her squeeze his shoulder slightly only to stop when he brushed his lips over hers very lightly. The gentle waves pushing their bodies to move along with the current as his arms around her waist tightens. With that last wave, it accidentally pushed San’s body forward, making him seal his lips on hers.

She froze, watching him close his eyes. That’s when she decided to do the same. She soon moved her lips with his. Feeling him move his lips with hers in a gentle kiss. She pulled away to breathe when the waves had gotten calmer.

“Why did you do that?” She asked softly, her voice barely audible. For some reason, he couldn’t find himself to look at her in the eye.

“I… I don’t know.”

She fell quiet as she gently cupped his face only to kiss him again, just to see how he would react. Thinking he would pull away or push her. But instead, he seemed to melt even deeper into the kiss. San wraps her legs around his waist before teleporting them onto shore with her laying down while he hovers over her.

San was passionate about the kiss. Feeling her tangle her fingers into his damp hair, only to tug on it lightly. This action caused him to exhale a soft breath, making him hiss.

“Are you gonna continue picking on me after today?” He asked when he pulled away to look at her face that adorns a smile.

“Just for the laughs? Probably yeah.” She teased. He couldn’t help but chuckle as he peppered her lips with small kisses.

~~~~

Here are the pictures for reference:

#ateez scenarios #ateez san #choi san scenarios #choi san fluff #ateez san fluff #ateez san scenarios #san fluff #san scenarios

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toriwakes · 4 years ago

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Whole Moon [Fred Weasley x Reader]

summary: fred doesn’t come back from practice on time like her promised.

content warnings: angst 😩 kinda 😩, language

a/n: HEY!!!!! I NEED U BESTIES TO READ THIS!!!!! i’m thinking about starting a spencer reid series!! i need y’all’s opinion <3 as always, let me know if you have any requests

you we’re going to rip someone’s hair out.

most likely yours, but it’d still to the job. not only was this divination homework kicking your ass, your boyfriend was failing to return from practice on time. your worry grew by the minute, and once it started to rain you completely lost it. you didn’t care if the homework was due tonight, you were going to find that redhead now.

it was dark, and all you had was your sweater barley clinging to your body since it was lightweight. the rain dampened to your hair and made it a mess, even if it was up and out of your face. it felt like ice was kissing your skin- you could swear it was getting more and more frigid. “fred?” you called out once you got closer to the pitch. “fred!!” you shouted again. if this boy was going to make you stand out in the rain for a second longer- “(y/n)??” his eyes nearly popped out of his head when he saw you. his hair was wet and so was his skin. he looked so beautiful. the moonlight hugged his complexion like they were good friends; it was so natural. however, those thoughts were in the back of your mind. your first instinct was to punch him, so you did. it was only to the arm, but the adrenaline rushing through your veins made it much more powerful. “ow! what the hell are you doing?” he practically yelled. he was in no position to be upset with you. he promised to help with homework! and now you’re soaked- and HE’S mad? “you deserved it! what are you still doing out here?” you shouted right back, louder. “the boys wanted to chat after a game, it’s no problem!” he rolled his eyes when he spoke. your arms dropped to your side and you went ballistic. tears brimming your eyes from the yelling, hands shaking (you didn’t know if it was from the cold or the anger), lip trembling. “hell- what has gotten into you? it’s been past an hour! now i’m all wet from the rain, and you’re acting like this? i care about you, and you’re acting like this?” his facial expression did not change the way you thought it would after you spoke. it stayed still and firm. hard and cold. basking beautifully in the moon.

“i never asked you to come out? it’s not my fault you got caught up in the rain. go back inside already. you’re making yourself look stupid.” his tone was dismissive and he had turned his back

to you. “how dare you speak to me that way!” you weren’t finished speaking, but he cut you off anyway. “blimey, you sound like my mom! give it a rest already!” your hands were balled in fiery fists. tears that you were desperately trying to hold back fell, and out hiccuped before shouting a final curse at him.

“damn you fred weasley!”

you changed into a warm set of clothes and faced your divination papers once again. obviously you had made no progress, you had just cried for 10 minutes about a certain boy who is still not back from practice. or so you thought. a pattern of knocking on your door let you know who was on the other side. you didnt open it. “what?” you called out. “(y/n), come on. open the door at least.” you didn’t move an inch. he did not deserve it. “please?” your mind stayed the same. “fine then, i’ll tell you from out here. look, i’m sorry. seriously. i was annoyed from something that happened earlier and i took it out on you.” damn right he did. he sighed from behind the door, and you could imagine his team sulking behind it. finally you got up and opened the door, but it was only to bicker some more. “you had no right to.” you replied. “i know that- and i’m so, so sorry.” you blinked. “you should’ve appreciated the fact that i came down to check if you were okay.” he dropped his head with a frown. “i know...(y/n), i really am sorry. how can i make it up to you?” he pondered. you half smiled. “get on your knees and apologize again.” his eyebrows raised but he obliged, beginning to step down. you stopped him before he could fully, though. “i’m just kidding. i accept your apology, weasley. just never do that again.” you said while wrapping your arms around him. “i’m so in love.” he mumbled while taking your waist in his grip, moving his head to the space in your neck. “me too. now will you help me with the homework like you promised?” he beamed at you and have you a separate parchment, all the answers jotted down on them with blotchy ink. “took it straight from her file.” you grinned and jotted them down, looking up at your boyfriend when you finished.

freckled, soft, whole moon.

#fred weasley blurb #fred weasley smut #fred weasley imagine #fred weasley fanfiction #fred weasley #weasley twins #george weasley blurb #harry potter imagine

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luxekook · 5 years ago

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chapter four.

⇥ pairing: ot7 x reader

⇥ genre: college au with fluff, smut & angst

⇥ summary: a series in which the reader meets (and falls for) seven members of the Beta Tau Sigma (BTS) fraternity

⇥ word count: 3.3k

⇥ warnings: 18+, cursing, dirty talk, noona kink, general chaotic energy, poly relationships, slight implications of switch!reader and sub!jk, jin being a beautiful mess, make-out sesh with multiple people oops

⇥ beta reader: the lovely @shadowsremedy

Chapter Four

Taehyung’s Room, BTS House – 10:49pm

“Alright. What do you want to know?”

Namjoon’s question fills the room. The boys all stare at me with anticipation, leaning forward with furrowed brows.

I ponder my course of action for all of two seconds before launching into my well-practiced rant, “I want to know what sort of sick prank you think you’re playing, because I am not falling for it. I mean – all of you wanting to date one person? Date me? Seems fake, but okay.”

Some of the boys move to interrupt me, but I thrust up a palm, “No, please let me finish. I know I don’t really have the right to make judgements about you guys, but I have seen some misogynistic behavior from your frat. So, I feel like it’s not that far-fetched for me to think that you’re probably playing me.”

“Messy gymnast behavior? What’s that?” Jungkook whispers to Hoseok who just shrugs, looking equally as baffled.

“Misogynistic, Kook, not messy gymnast,” Namjoon pinches his nose in frustration, “It means prejudiced against women.”

Seokjin and Jimin descend into fits of laughter. Hoseok still looks mildly perplexed, and Yoongi takes a large sip of soju from a bottle he procured from god knows where within the last few minutes.

Covering his face, Jungkook dives behind Jin in hopes of further hiding his embarrassment.

“I think I know what she’s talking about.”

The room quiets at Taehyung’s interjection. He reluctantly sits up from his relaxed position on his bed and explains, “When we met at our party last semester, she found out about our old pledge tradition.”

“Oh, damn,” Jimin sighs, “So that’s why you motioned to remove it from the chapter’s history at the last meeting.”

“Yeah,” Tae looks me in the eyes, “We voted removed it, (y/n) ... A little too late though, it seems.”

Jungkook peeks his head out from behind Jin’s shoulder, “We’re sorry, noona.”

Trying not to internally melt in response at the youngest’s display of classic puppy-dog eyes, I slump against the wall and slide into a sitting position on the floor. “Look, I’m not going to say that ‘it’s okay’ because it’s not. But I do appreciate that you removed it.”

The boys hang their heads, looking properly chastised.

“That’s fair,” Namjoon finally says quietly, “We know as a frat we fucked up. We’re not perfect. We make a lot of mistakes. But we’re trying to get back to being respectable and move on from here.”

“We’re trying to get back your respect,” Yoongi rubs the back of his neck, looking at me with wide eyes and more attentiveness than I’ve ever seen from him.

“But that’s the other thing,” I look away, pulling at a random thread fraying off of the sleeve of my sweatshirt, “Why does it matter so much that I respect you? Why are you all so invested in me all of a sudden? In all honesty, I haven’t said more than two words in conversation to half of you.”

“Yeah, that doesn’t really matter,” Namjoon shrugs, shifting to lean casually against the wall.

My eyes narrow, “How can it not matter?”

“Because we date as a group, (y/n)-noona,” Jimin smiles down at me from his perch on Taehyung’s bed, all squishy cheeks and crinkled eyes, “Tae thought we’d all like you, and then Jungkookie and Joon-hyung agreed and—”

Hoseok excitedly chimes in, arms swinging wildly, “And finding someone who we all like hasn’t happened in so long, and I’m so happy!”

“Yah, Hobi!” Jin reaches over Jungkook to shove the bouncing boy, “We’re supposed to be playing it cool. We have to woo her.” He winks and blows me a kiss.

Instinctively, I swat it away and then giggle at Seokjin’s indignant gasp.

“I take it back! She’s mean!” Launching into a passionate rant complete with head shaking and wild eyes, Jin continues, “Consider that kiss null and void. I have never been so insulted in my entire life, you know!”

Tears stream down my cheeks as I collapse from laughing alongside the rest of the boys. Namjoon’s dimples are out in full force as he drawls, “Hyung, that’s what you said yesterday when I beat you in Overwatch.”

Seokjin splutters over the now-renewed laughter of his younger brothers, “I thought I told you to never speak of that again!”

Trailing off in mumbles of how he needs new friends and how disrespected he is as an elder, Jin resorts to pouting in the corner.

“You’ll have to excuse Seokjin-hyung, (y/n),” Taehyung smirks at me with raised eyebrows, “He’s skated by solely on his looks up until now.”

Seokjin’s pouting intensifies.

“He is handsome,” I instinctively respond, fully focused on the beauty of Jin’s pouty lips. And when those lips break into a huge grin, I cringe at my lapse in judgement for the thousandth time that night.

“My faith in humanity has been restored!” Jin ambles back to his original spot next to Jungkook and thrusts a paper heart that he apparently had been carrying on his person for quite some time in my direction.

“Hyung,” Hoseok eyes Seokjin with a concerned frown, “Where did you even get that from?”

“That’s one secret I’ll never tell.” Jin barely finishes that sentence before a flurry of pillows, water bottles, and other miscellaneous items are thrown at him from all angles.

“I thought we agreed no more quoting Gossip Girl, Jin-hyung!” Jimin cries as he continues to hit Jin with a pillow from Tae’s bed.

Miraculously still even able to speak under the assault from the other boys, Jin replies with complete sincerity, “XOXO.”

Chaos reigns.

Watching all seven of them in - presumably - their most natural state, I sigh in amusement, “Y’all are too much.”

Somehow the boys hear me, because they all turn to face me once more with various expressions of playfulness and mirth. Jin still lies under the pile of them laughing slightly as they slowly shift off of him.

“Nah, I think we might be just enough for you, noona,” Jungkook pipes up as he plops down on the edge of Taehyung’s bed.

“Yeah? And how do you know that?” A sudden thought occurs to me, “Wait, why do you all even date one person anyway? Don’t you realize like half the campus is in love with each of you?”

“You’re included in that half, right?” Taehyung grins and then shrinks under my withering glare, “I mean, it’s a long story?”

“Oh, hold on,” I check my wrist, which noticeably has no watch, “Mhm, that’s right. It’s story time.”

Jimin snorts and then burrows under the covers in mortification.

“Cute,” Hoseok sighs, staring at me, “I want to keep you.”

And there’s something about having Jung Hoseok’s full attention and adoration that brings me to peak devastation. I pull my hood up over my head and burrow into my sweatshirt.

“Aw!” Various yells rebound around the room. I flip them all off.

“Hobi,” Yoongi teases, “I think she likes you.”

I peek out of the safety of my sweatshirt to eviscerate him with my eyes, but Yoongi just raises one brow coolly and calls me out, “Well, am I wrong, jagi?”

All eyes are on me, and the room is suddenly so quiet that all I can hear is the muffled party downstairs and the beating of my heart.

“... I want my lawyer,” I finally declare, re-emerging from the depths of my sweatshirt and crossing my arms.

“Oh, come on, noona!” Jimin shuffles across the room and kneels in front of me, causing me to descend into a panic, “You like Hoseok-hyung, right? Well, what about me? Do you like me?”

Jimin peers down at me, pink hair tussled and eyes shining. How could I ever say no to that beautiful face? That angelic human?

Must.

Deflect.

“I’ll answer your question if you answer mine. Why do you all date the same person when each of you could have anyone you want?”

Jimin deflates and sits back on his heels, frowning at my non-answer.

“But we do already date everyone we want,” Hoseok cuts in, giggling, “Well, almost.”

They’re already dating people? My mind wracks through all my knowledge of the seven boys sitting before me, but no evidence of them dating anyone pops up. “Wait, I’m confused. Who are you all dating then?”

I can’t help but feel like I’m on the outside of an inside joke as the boys all exchange looks that are all too smug for my liking.

“Seems like we did a good job, boys,” Namjoon chuckles, “People on this campus are pretty oblivious.”

“Nah,” Yoongi shakes his head, “They just choose not to see it. They want us all to be fully available.”

The lightbulb finally flickers on in my mind.

“Oh my sweet baby Jesus,” I whisper, “You’re all dating each other, aren’t you?”

Various nods answer that question. Jin, of course, being Jin, wipes an imaginary tear from his eye as he dramatically laments, “And she’s smart, too? How did we get so lucky, boys?”

“Yoongi,” I say calmly, “Please pass me that soju before I commit murder in this very room.”

Without a word, Yoongi hands me the bottle before settling down in the space next to me against the wall.

Suddenly hyperaware of my positioning, I realize I’m sitting in between Jimin and Yoongi. Jungkook, Taehyung and Hobi now sit together on Tae’s bed, while Jin remains on the floor surrounded by various pillows and debris.

Namjoon is still leaning against the opposite wall, looking way too intimidating and perfect that I’m forced to look away.

That is, until he starts to speak. “(y/n), the seven of us have always been close. We grew up together; and, somehow, we just work as a unit. We work together. It may seem odd or untraditional. Maybe it is. But, it’s who we are. And it’s how we love.”

Namjoon continues, “We don't want to lose what we have together, this dynamic we've spent so long building. But, we’ve been feeling like something has been missing from our relationship lately. We’ve been looking for someone to help complete us.”

“And you think that person is me?” I suck in a jagged breath, “You really want to share me? Do you know how crazy that sounds?”

"There are crazier things," Yoongi shrugs, taking back the bottle of soju from my grasp, "Like how Namjoon has an IQ of 148 but can't seem to live one day without breaking something."

Namjoon, looking affronted, opens and closes his mouth, but ultimately settles on just smiling bashfully. My heart almost explodes at such a display of cuteness.

"It's really not that crazy, (y/n)," Taehyung interrupts my internal fawning, "You seem like a girl who’s intimidated by no one and nothing. We really, really like that. And we figured since you kissed me and Jungkook that you might be interested.”

Embarrassment washes over me. I steal back the soju from Yoongi, who just smirks knowingly.

“Besides, polyamory is actually more common than you think,” Hobi smiles in that pretty heart-shaped way of his.

He has a valid point. Who am I to be the judge of what love looks like? Who am I to criticize these boys who clearly love each other and just want one more person to love? Who am I to deny myself the opportunity to be loved by seven people?

“Can I think about it?" I ask, still fighting the inevitable for whatever reason, "I'm not saying 'no’. I just need a bit of time to think it over."

"Take all the time you need, baby," Namjoon murmurs, looking like I just handed him the keys to the entire world.

"No,” Jimin groans, burrowing his head in the crook of my shoulder, “Please, please, please don't take all the time you need, (y/n)-noona! I can’t wait that long!”

I reach up to stroke my fingers through his pink hair in an attempt to soothe the poor angel.

“Do we have permission to continue to woo you during this ‘thinking’ period?” Jin inquires, casting a look of jealousy at Jimin who is now nestled even further into me.

“Continue?” I ask, “When did you start?”

“Yah!” Seokjin exclaims, “Why does she keep roasting me?”

“I think it’s hot,” Jungkook grins at me with stars in his eyes.

“That’s because you’re a masochist, Kook,” Taehyung cackles from his perch on the bed.

“Ah, hyung!” Jungkook jumps on Taehyung in an effort to silence him, “She doesn’t need to know that yet!”

“I mean, it is pretty obvious,” I pause dramatically, dropping the pitch of my voice, “Baby boy.”

Jungkook yelps and takes off out of the room.

“Shit, was that too much?” I ask, staring at the door thrown open in Jungkook’s wake.

“No,” Tae replies, still laughing, “I think he just needs a second to calm down. I’ll go see where he went.”

Taehyung gets up from the bed and shuffles out the door in search of Jungkook. The open door allows for more sounds from the party to seep into the room.

Namjoon sighs, “I should probably check on what’s happening down there, shouldn’t I?”

“Good luck, man,” Yoongi tears the soju back out of my hand and lifts it up in cheers to Namjoon. Chuckling, Namjoon ambles over to where Yoongi, Jimin and I are crowded together and grabs the soju.

After taking a long sip, he crouches down in front of me and grasps the hand that remains unoccupied by Jimin. Bringing it to his lips, Namjoon places the lightest kiss on my knuckles. “I’m so happy you showed up tonight, baby. I can only hope that my future holds more of you in any way you choose to give me.”

Pressing his lips to my palm this time, Namjoon smiles in that completely devastating way of his and then saunters out of the room. Still gaping, I realize I never even got to say a word to him in response.

“You are so whipped for him already, jagi,” Yoongi says lowly, lips brushing my ear.

I blink. My senses are on overload. Jimin is still curled into my side, with my hand stroking his hair and his lips accidentally grazing the skin of my collarbone every so often. Now, Yoongi is closer than ever. I can feel his breath against my neck and his stare focused on my lips. Meanwhile, Hobi and Jin are slowly but surely shuffling closer to where the three of us are bunched together.

“So what if I am?” I finally answer, “Aren’t you all whipped for him, too?”

“Oh, you have no idea,” Jimin mumbles into my shoulder.

My mind explodes.

“She’s not ready for that yet, Jiminie,” Jin giggles, “I’m pretty sure she’s still half convinced I worship Satan in the basement.”

“Well, I wasn’t before, but now I am,” I jokingly eye Seokjin up and down with an amused smile.

He grins back at me. I melt. And he knows it.

“Can I kiss you?” Jin asks, the slightest smirk curving his lips, a look of hunger burning in his gaze, like he could just eat me up, “Please?”

I swallow and his eyes latch onto the movement of my throat.

Before I can reconsider, I remove myself from my sitting position against the wall, much to Jimin and Yoongi’s dismay, and straddle Jin’s lap, immediately capturing his lips with my own.

The effect is instantaneous. Various groans echo around me as Jin smiles against my mouth. His hands find their way under my sweatshirt and squeeze my hips, dragging my body even closer against his.

The way Jin kisses is life-ruining in its unhurried, yet passionate deliberateness. He kisses me like he’s claiming me, and the possessiveness of his actions send a ripple of excitement through my body. Releasing my mouth, he works his way down the length of my exposed neck, and I gasp in response.

Suddenly, I feel another pair of hands twine around my body from behind as Hobi pleads into my ear, “Can I kiss you, too, (y/n)?”

I nod wordlessly, wondering what I did in my past life to deserve such affection in this one.

“No fair,” I vaguely hear Jimin pouting, “I want to kiss noona.”

“We’ll have our turn, Jiminie,” Yoongi’s voice causes a shudder of anticipation to race down my spine.

“Oh, she likes that idea,” Jin laughs, obviously having felt the tremor that shot though me in response to Yoongi’s suggestion, “Come get a taste.”

“Only if that’s what she really wants,” Yoongi says, meeting my eyes, “Don’t feel pressured to do anything you don’t feel comfortable with, kitten.”

“Kitten?” I growl, eyes narrowed sharply in his direction.

“Yep,” Yoongi’s answering smirk is slow and antagonizing, “All cute and cuddly with a hint of claws.”

“I’ll show you claws,” I say darkly, getting up, “Stand up.”

Yoongi’s eyebrows raise in surprise, “Why?”

“I won’t ask again,” I move closer to him and Jimin.

Yoongi pulls himself to his feet, acting like it was the most physical activity he’d ever done.

When he’s finally done with the dramatics, I move closer until he’s backed right up against the wall, “Min Yoongi, I’m going to shut you up now.”

His breath stutters as I slowly move my mouth closer to his. “Please do—” I cut him off.

Kissing Yoongi is just as intoxicating as kissing Jin, but in a different way. Yoongi tastes like soju and spearmint. His body melts under my touch, completely fine with letting me lead. An idea springs to mind and I slide my hand into his hair and tug lightly. He jolts with a moan.

Bingo. I smirk before kissing him deeper. My other hand winds around him to scratch my nails down his back. This time, I’m awarded with a small whine.

The fact that I’m wrecking this boy is simultaneously wrecking me. That impact doubles when I feel a small hand begin to wind its way up my calf towards my thigh. Tearing my mouth away from Yoongi, I open my eyes to see Jimin smiling up at me, “Can you kiss me like that, too, (y/n)-noona?”

“Why couldn’t you wait your turn, Jiminie,” Yoongi sulks adorably, sensing that my resolve against any request from Jimin was nonexistent.

“Well, aren’t you supposed to be showing me the perks of dating multiple people?” I joke, “Jin and Hobi just shared. Can’t you two?”

Jimin springs up off the floor faster than anyone I’ve ever seen, “Yes! We can share!”

“Good,” I reply, turning in Yoongi’s arms so that my back is pressed against him. He hisses in a breath. “Come here, Jiminie,” I open my arms to the eager boy who all but leaps into them.

“You’re so beautiful, noona,” Jimin sighs, pupils dilated, tongue darting out to lick his bottom lip.

“So are you, baby,” I sigh, bringing a hand up to brush his cheek fondly, “So are you.”

I kiss Jimin gently, treasuring the feel of his plump lips against my own. I trace the tip of my tongue over his bottom lip and his mouth opens in a silent gasp. I use the chance to slip my tongue inside to twine with his.

Through my thoroughly fucked-out haze, I feel Yoongi’s hands settle onto my hips, grinding me slowly against his crotch. I moan into Jimin as Yoongi’s mouth sucks on the side of my neck, surely for the sole reason of marking me.

“Well, shit, JK,” Taehyung’s voice shatters the bubble of pleasure I had been residing within in the middle of four beautiful men. My eyes flutter open to take in the sight of Taehyung holding a box of pizza and a case of beer, with Jungkook right behind him. “Looks like the party started without us.”

a/n: oops, another slight cliff-hanger? *laughs evilly*

taglist: @catsandstrawberries @h5naaa @meowmeowyoongles @leftflowerprunedonut @rjsmochii @athletes-of-god @karissassirak @cage7241 @weallhavesecretsinthebestway @cvbachacbitch @bewitch3dforivar @honeyspillings @xxonyxpearlxx @valiantcollectorofsandwiches @fivesecondsofsarang @oii-f-eli-x2 @joonsroses @theevilyouknow @jooniescupcakes @expensive-grl @i-dont-even-know-fck @doingmybestalltheftime @elraeee @fangirling-all-the-way-tbh @laced-brds @aokay1010 @breeeeh17 @lpayne612 @peachyharmoney @rilakoya @chulchuchi @tabula-rasa0 @guccishookv @nomimits7 @i-like-puppy-mg @s-noir @anna-sorel @im-a-space-child @yeontanismypresident @drowning-in-oxygen @team-wang-puppy @lvvegood @anongirl007 @may114 @r-e-d-i-s-h @unatempesta-dipensieri @dragon-rider-with-a-book @blueberrygeniejam @wondrsblog @heterophobez @vi-hoshi @kirbykook @queen-of--roses @blu-butterfly69 @katemwatson @kawaiikpoplover268 @amsteramyy @sami4life @a-feeling-of-euphoria @the-jackals @bubbletae7 @btsenchanting @platinum-grenade @bunnyboyenthusiast @brightly-byun @oofmeintheheadpls @sadboibts @lidda @goldenwidow3 @t-mel19

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bluesylveon2 · 4 years ago

Text

My My, I Could Never Let You Go

Summary: Sasha Zoe just wants her dad to walk her down the aisle. There is only one problem: she doesn't know which one is her father. What could possibly go wrong?

Pairings: Levi x Hange, Sasha x Niccolo, and other background relationships

Disclaimer: This is a Levihan Mamma Mia au. This fanfic is inspired by Mamma Mia which is directed by Phyllida Loyd, written by Catherine Johnson, and uses music from the pop group ABBA. Attack on Titan is a manga/anime series written by Hajime Isayama and published by Kondasha

Author’s Note: Happy Valentine's Day! This chapter focuses more on Sasha's friends (more of a Galentine's tbh). I did add some scenes from the movie, but you'll find it towards the end. This is the last chapter where I go deep into everyone's backstory. Future chapters would briefly touch on it, but I won't go into too much details. Please note that I have only had 1 bf and the relationship was short, so my knowledge on love is purely based on fanfic and the media.

Speaking of looks, the dresses are the same as the movie. I usually don't add clothing descriptions unless it is necessary. I find it so random to write although you need it to build a scene 😅

Need to catch up? Catch up here!

Ch 2: Girls Just Wanna Have Fun

“Sasha, who else knows about your fathers coming to your wedding?”

Sasha turned to her left to face Historia. Sasha, Mikasa, and Historia were laying on Sasha’s bed waiting for the rest of the bridal party to arrive with their dresses. Sasha was in the middle, Mikasa was on her right, and Historia was on her left.

“It’s just the girls in the group. I didn’t tell any of the guys.” Sasha replies

Mikasa sat up from Sasha’s right. She looks at Sasha and raises an eyebrow.

“Did you at least tell Niccolo?” Mikasa asks

Sasha paused for a long time before letting out a quiet no. She knew she should tell her fiance, but she wanted all of it to be a surprise for everyone at the wedding (minus the people who already knew). She could tell by looking at Mikasa’s face that she was ready to start interrogating her. Luckily, Sasha was saved by someone knocking and opening the door to her room.

“Knock knock” their friend, Hitch, enters Sasha’s room followed by the rest of the bridal party: Annie, Hanami, and Mina. All three girls were carrying dress bags (minus Sasha’s wedding dress because she got it yesterday) for the wedding. Mikasa and Historia stood up from the bed to help set the dresses down on Sasha’s bed. They proceeded to hug all of their friends after they finished.

Sasha met Annie and Hitch while in high school. Both girls were friends before joining the group (although it initially looked one-sided. Annie wasn’t good at expressing her feelings yet).

Annie Leonhart is Sasha’s Russian friend with blonde hair and ice-blue eyes and loves eating sweets. She dreams of becoming a patissier one day but did not pursue it because of her father. Her father wanted Annie to learn MMA and go pro. Annie’s dad sent Annie to Greece to learn pankration (a form of MMA), but Annie ran off to Kalokairi instead. She never contacted her father, and both had a falling out. Annie was found by Hitch’s parents who let her live in their home. Both girls grew close, and Hitch was the one who encouraged Annie to contact her father after years of silence. Annie eventually forgives her father after he apologizes for everything. Now Annie can pursue her dreams and stay in Kalokairi with Hitch’s parent’s permission. Now Annie attends L’Ecole Ducasse in France to be a patissier and is currently dating Armin Arlet.

Hitch Dreyse was born in Kalokairi after her parents moved from the Netherlands. Hitch has an easygoing personality and loves teasing her friends, especially Annie. She is also Annie’s first friend as she was the one who was determined to be Annie’s friend after Annie moved to Kalokairi. Hitch also had several admirers in high school, one of them being her current boyfriend, Marlow. Marlow has always had a crush on Hitch for a long time, and they started dating after Marlow finished his first semester at King’s College in London. Marlow would tell Hitch his dreams of working as a politician and Hitch is always his number 1 supporter despite not telling him that explicitly. Hitch attends AAS College for Fashion Product and Promotion (she asks Historia to model for her when possible). Sasha remembers when Hitch’s visits, she would catch Hitch looking out the window as if expecting Marlow to appear. Hitch realized how much she missed Marlow because she cares for him deeply. Hitch knew she needed to tell him her feelings the day his ferry arrived.

Hitch walks up to Sasha laying in her bed “Look who I found after my trip with Marlo?” She then turned to the rest of the girls who were hugging Mikasa and Historia. It has been years since they have seen one another. All of the girls (minus Sasha) decided to go their separate ways after graduating high school. Hitch was the only one who stayed within the country. She would visit Sasha every now and then during her free time. Sasha decided to stay in Kalokairi to take care of her mom.

Sasha’s friend group started out with her, Connie (who moved to Kalokairi from Wales), and Marco. Jean joined the group because Marco is his best friend. Jean moved to Kalokairi with Marco and his parents from France. Jean and Marco now own their own house they currently use for visits. Eren, Mikasa, and Armin (who is orphaned and lives with Eren) joined next because Mikasa started hanging out with Sasha after Sasha constantly begged Mikasa to help her study. Eren and Armin followed Mikasa naturally. Annie joined next, followed by Hitch and Marlow after Sasha invited Annie to eat some sweets together at the hotel. Hitch was surprised Annie started making more friends, and Marlow followed because of his crush on Hitch. Hanami joined the group because she helped Sasha out in school. Hanami also covers for her in many situations (any situations involving food and sneaking). Niccolo joined the group after their first meeting and when he surprised Sasha in Kalokairi. He also grew close to Jean and Connie before visiting, and they came up with the idea. Mina is the recent friend to join the group. Marco went to Brown University in America to study education. Marco met Mina one day on campus, and the two often had classes together. The two eventually begin dating, and Marco often brings Mina on his visits to Kalokairi to meet his friends and go sightseeing.

Sasha looks at the group near the door. She was curious how Hitch convinced Annie to come since she should be on her date with Armin.

“I was having a nice date with Armin until Hitch” Annie glares at Hitch “decided to end it and dragged me here.”

Hitch laughs and waves a hand in the air “I told you this morning we were meeting with the others at 10. It was 9:50 when I came by, and you were still eating breakfast with Armin. You left the hotel at 8:30. No one takes an hour and twenty minutes to eat breakfast.” Hitch turns to Annie with a mischievous smile on her face “Besides, Armin is not alone, and he’s very understanding with me stealing you. He has Marlow, and I’m sure they are preparing for the wedding as we speak.”

Sasha turns to Mina and Hanami wanting to hear their explanations. Hanami spoke first “I left Jean so he could work on his Best Man duties. I ran into Mina and Marco on my way to the dress shop. Marco insisted for her to help me, and we ran into Hitch who already had Annie.” Sasha turns to Hitch and Annie. Annie was trying to defend herself while Hitch was laughing at Annie’s embarrassed face. Armin and Annie must have gone sightseeing or something and lost track of time.

“Anyways” Hanami interrupts the two while Mina goes to Annie and holds her arm for Hitch’s safety. “We need to try on our dresses, and I already got them altered. I want to see if I need to make any more last-minute changes before the wedding.” She then walked over to the bag with her name on it and motioned for the others (minus Sasha) to follow and get changed.

“I’m so excited about the wedding! I really like the color of the dresses you picked Sasha” Mina says as Sasha helps her with her dress. She turns to Sasha and gives her a sweet smile.

Sasha was glad to have someone like Mina in her friend group. She’s going to have to thank Marco for encouraging Mina to join later.

“I agree,” Hitch says as she puts on her dress “the guys haven’t seen what we look like either. We are going to blow them away for sure” Hitch tossed her hair a bit for an effect and laughed. She turned to Annie with another mischievous smile.

“I know Armin would be over the moon after seeing you in your dress, Annie. You could accidentally spill some wine on your dress, and Armin would still think you’re beautiful” Annie’s face turned red and she jumped a bit because of Hitch’s words. Luckily, she didn’t move around too much or Sasha would have accidentally caught Annie’s skin when she was zipping up her dress. She finished zipping up Annie’s dress before moving towards Historia to help her with her dress.

“Isn’t over the moon a bit much?” Annie sputters, her face was still red “I’m sure Marlow would be speechless after seeing you in your dress, Hitch. You haven’t seen each other for a while and only started dating recently. I wouldn’t be surprised if he faints after seeing you.” Annie says with a serious face

Hitch gushes and hugs Annie “You always know what to say” she cries. Annie only rolls her eyes while awkwardly patting Hitch on the back. Annie may not look like it, but she actually cares about Hitch.

Meanwhile, the other girls had their dresses on and were busy taking mirror selfies with Sasha’s mirror to send to their significant others (Mikasa and Hanami also took part; although they are both single). Hitch notices and lets go of Annie. She puts her hand on Annie’s back and pushes her to the rest of the girls to join in.

“Ymir is going to love this,” Historia praises herself after Annie joins the group and takes more mirror selfies. She switches the camera to the front camera and raises her arm to take a few group selfies. “And send” Historia sends the pictures to Ymir and then to the rest of the girls to keep for themselves.

“I wonder what Armin is gonna think?” Hitch says out loud and nudges Annie on the side. Annie rolls her eyes but still smiles because of Hitch. Hitch then looks up to find Sasha and Mina texting their significant others. She looks over to find Hanami walking around the room to check on the dresses. Mikasa is silently staring at the photos. She looked like she was in an internal conflict with herself to pick which one she would send to the receiving end. Hitch has a 99.9% guess it was Eren. It looks like Hitch is going to play matchmaker again. If it worked for Annie, then it would work for Mikasa. Sadly, Hitch is missing her partner in crime, Ymir, for this.

“Hey, Mikasa. Are you thinking of sending those photos to I don’t know, a certain someone, perhaps? I don’t know. Eren? Hitch asks with a cat-like grin and wiggles her eyebrows. “You’re one of the only girls in the group who is still single, and everyone knows about your crush on Eren, except for Eren himself!”

All the girls in the room sighed. Eren cares about his friends and family, but he is also pretty oblivious about Mikasa’s feelings. Eren is so focused on passing med school to be a doctor like his father that everyone thought he would stay single forever. Nevertheless, Mikasa still fell for how passionate Eren is to achieve his goal.

Mikasa flushes with embarrassment. Hopefully, no one noticed the old scarf with her stuff. Mikasa likes to keep the scarf with her because Eren was her first friend after moving to Kalokairi. She chooses not to wear it now because of the heat.

Mikasa quickly scans at the other girls in the room and spots Hitch’s next target. At least there’s someone who is also single to get Hitch off her chest.

“Say, Hanami, do you have any potential boyfriends in mind?” Mikasa asks casually to divert Hitch’s attention away from her. She doesn’t want Hitch to pull an Armin and Annie with her and Eren. She prefers not to have others meddle with her love life. Mikasa prefers for it to happen naturally (who knows how long that would take?)

Hitch gasps and runs over to Hanami while she is smoothening out her dress. Hitch grabs Hanami’s shoulders and starts shaking her back and forth. “Well, do you?” Hitch asks while shaking her. Hanami is the only other girl in the group (other than Mikasa) who is currently single.

“Nope. Definitely not me” she laughs and lightly pushes Hitch off of her “I’ve been busy too preparing for Sasha’s wedding and college. I mean I have talked to a few guys since I came back, but I was only flirting with them.” She pats Hitch’s shoulder and sits down on Sasha’s bed. She pulls her phone out of her bag and starts texting someone. Hanami occasionally flirts with guys every now and then. Dating would be nice, but it is not her biggest priority. Besides, she's been busy working alongside Jean for the wedding.

Hitch only hums and decides to not press her further (for now). She walks towards Historia who is sitting on a chest near the door while texting Ymir. Hitch had a plan in mind, and she needed someone to help. She calls her to Historia quietly and leans down to subtly whisper to her ear. She didn’t need Hanami or Mikasa to hear what she had to say.

Historia raises her eyebrow to let Hitch know she is listening.

“Normally I would ask Ymir to help me, but you’re my next best hope Historia” Hitch whispers to Historia. Hitch looks over the room and her eyes on the others to make sure they weren’t eavesdropping on their conversation.

Historia laughs quietly “I agree. What do you have in mind?”

“Well,” Hitch begins and looks at Mikasa who is now looking at herself in the mirror with Sasha and Mina. “We all know Mikasa and Eren should get together. It’s pretty obvious, and I’m positive I saw that old scarf sticking out of Mikasa’s luggage earlier.”

She turns her attention towards Hanami who joins the other girls. “Now as for Hanami, she’s a different case. She may or may not have accidentally spilled a few secrets to me when we went drinking with the girls one night. Now I know the perfect guy for her, but she’s too focused on Maid of Honor duties to notice. We just have to give them both a nudge if you know what I mean?”

Historia knew exactly what Hitch was implying and who the guy was. She had a suspicion about the two since high school, but she never pursued the idea. She leaned slightly towards Hitch while watching the others with her.

“If my guesses are correct. I’m going to assume it’s him right?”

“I think we are on the same page, Historia.” Hitch smirks “We just can tell either him or Hanami. You in?”

Historia holds out her hand for Hitch to shake. “Alright. I'm in.” They shake hands to confirm their agreement. It looks like this trip is going to get a lot more interesting than before.

Meanwhile, during Hitch and Historia’s secret conversation, Sasha stood behind Mikasa, Mina, and Hanami as they looked at themselves in the mirror. They were in their own little bubble admiring themselves in the mirror while ignoring the upcoming plan on the other side of the room.

“You did so well with these dresses, Sasha” Mina compliments Sasha for the second time that morning.

“We’re gonna look fabulous tomorrow,” Hanami says joyfully. Both Hanami and Mina caused Sasha to blush.

“Thank you. I just want the perfect wedding and I want my father to give me away.” Sasha leans down and lays her cheek on Mina’s head

“I hope you got yourself a wide aisle, Sasha” Mikasa smirks, causing Mina and Hanami to laugh. Sasha playfully slaps Mikasa’s back “I will know my father as soon as I see him.”

A knock interrupted the girls, and Niccolo enters the room. All of the girls turn to him.

“Niccolo!” the girls (minus Annie and Mikasa) scream as they open their arms for a group hug. Hitch and Historia came up with an idea and pulled the group to fall on Sasha’s bed with Niccolo

“Hey put me down” Niccolo laughs as he falls “I’m about to get married tomorrow. Can someone help me?” Annie and Mikasa help loosen the girls' grip on Niccolo and help him stand back up. Meanwhile, Sasha was laughing at her friend’s silliness. The rest of the girls stand up from the bed and move to stand in front of Niccolo

“So what do you think about the dresses?” Historia asks

“Niccolo, tell Annie that Armin is going to faint after he sees her in this dress!” Hitch complains and points at Annie

Annie lightly slaps Hitch on the head. “Knock it off, Hitch,” she says with a red face. The others were laughing at their antics.

“You all look beautiful” Niccolo laughs and compliments the girls “I’m sure Armin will faint after seeing you, Annie.”

“See! At least Niccolo agrees with me!” Hitch walks over to Niccolo and hugs him. She doesn’t care if the pins on her dress poke her body. At least someone agreed with her statement. She knows Annie well enough to consider herself as Annie’s best friend.

There was another knock on Sasha’s door and it opened again to reveal Jean and Eren.

“Eren! Jean!” Historia screams and runs to Jean’s arms. Mikasa smiles and walks to Eren.

“Hey Historia” Jean smiles and turns to Mikasa

“Hey Mikasa” Mikasa turn to him in Eren’s arm and smiles at him as well

Jean coughs lightly into his fist. He also had a small red tint on his face. “The guys missed you all”

“I was wondering what was taking you so long, Niccolo,” Eren states after hugging Mikasa. He noticed how her face was red, but didn’t want to push her by asking when everyone else is in the room.

“Sorry, Eren. I was busy talking to the other girls. Can you grab some of the stuff for me?” Niccolo lets go of Hitch and walks towards Sasha. He walks behind her and hugs her from behind. He kisses her cheek and the other girls gush on how cute he and Sasha are.

“Sure, Niccolo. Eren looks down at Mikasa in his arms “Can you help me, Mikasa? Who knows how much Jean would get done?” Eren rolls his eyes and smirks. Mikasa glances at Eren. ‘Maybe he knows something?’ She thought and plans to ask Eren about it later.

Niccolo looks down at Sasha “You have a good eye with the dress choice. bet you’ll look even more gorgeous in your wedding dress.”

“Well, I had Hitch help me too.” Sasha laughs “It’s nice to hear coming from the man who is also baking the wedding cake. I heard you let Annie help you as practice, right?” Sasha asks and raises an eyebrow

“She insisted on helping as practice for patisserie school. She wanted it to be a surprise, but someone (most likely Hitch) told you too early. I’m sorry about that” Niccolo raises an arm and scratches the back of his neck. He had a nervous face too.

Sasha loops her arms around Niccolo’s neck and leans up to peck on the lips. She looked into Niccolo’s hazel eyes as she spoke, “What did I ever do to deserve you? I’m glad you are okay with letting my friends play bigger roles than just bridesmaids. I can tell how happy they are to help.”

Niccolo grins like a boy in love “It helps us save money to go travel, and after-” Niccolo’s face contours to love “we can open a restaurant together”

Sasha smiles “Here?” she inquires

Niccolo kisses Sasha’s forehead and looks down at her “Wherever you want, Sasha. I love you too much that I would follow you to the ends of the Earth if you tell me too”

Now Sasha is smiling like a girl in love “I love you too, Niccolo.”

Meanwhile, Jean picks up a cowboy hat after hugging Historia. He walks to Niccolo and Sasha (while they are in their little bubble) and places the hat on Niccolo’s head. Jean then walks over to Sasha’s bed where Hanami is standing while she is busy typing on her phone. She didn’t notice Jean heading her way. Most of the people in the room were too busy with their own thing to notice. Historia and Hitch were the only two people to notice.

Jean stands next to Hanami and proceeds to rest his arm on top of her head. He slightly leans down to look at her, but he doesn’t look at her phone. Jean knows better than to look at someone’s business.

“Jean, knock it off. Go do that to someone else like Mikasa” Hanami says with an irritated tone in her voice and a red face. She swats her arm up in an attempt to remove Jean’s arm off her head. Jean put his arm back no matter how many times Hanami tried to take it off.

“Hmmm, I’d rather not. You’re short enough for me to be a good armrest ” Jean teases Hanami and puts his arm on her head again. The 11-inch difference is a fun thing for Jean to mess with Hanami with. It’s not his fault he had a huge growth spurt in high school.

“There are girls here who are shorter than me!” Hanami grumbles and gives up after a few more failed attempts. She is still red from embarrassment. She didn’t understand why he didn’t do that to Mina and Historia (Annie is out of the question unless you want to end up on the floor). Hanami just crosses her arms instead and frowns as Jean instructs Eren to pick up what’s left for the bachelor party. Hanami didn’t notice Historia and Hitch laughing to themselves after watching the whole thing going on. Mina slightly breaks off her conversation with Annie and turns to Historia and Hitch. Looks like someone noticed after all.

‘We’ll tell you about it later’ Historia whispers to Mina

“I got everything we need for the bachelor party Niccolo. We can go now.” Eren tells Niccolo and holds up the box of stuff. Sasha perks up and turns around in Niccolo’s arms to face him “Yes, you need to go. Us girls are very busy at the moment.”

Sasha proceeds to push Niccolo towards the doors. Jean (finally) takes his arm off of Hanami’s head and is still smirking at her irritated face as he leaves. Eren follows the two but turns around before heading out

“You look beautiful in that dress, Mikasa.” Eren compliments and gives the girls a two-finger salute before leaving. Mikasa blushes at his statement, and Sasha closes the door after all of the guys have left. The girls stood there, and their mouths were open with shock.

Hitch claps her hands to get everyone’s attention. “Ok, now that we know how great Mikasa looks in these dresses, thanks to Eren, let’s change so we can go to the beach later.” Hitch turned to Mikasa and Historia. “You brought your swimsuits, right?”

“Yes,” Historia says cheerfully. Mikasa was not as cheerful because she was still blushing after Eren’s compliment. Speaking of Eren, she is not letting Sasha run out without answering her question.

“Sasha, you did not answer my question from last time. Did you tell Niccolo about your fathers?” Mikasa asks as she begins taking off her dress. The other girls, except Historia, look at each other while helping each other get out of their dresses. It seems like they already knew the answer.

Sasha puts her hands on her hips. “No, because Niccolo would tell me to tell my mom.”

Mikasa was not going to let it down. “Hange is going to kill you when she finds out” she argues.

“I doubt Hange would pull a Levi on her only daughter. The worse she could do is break a table with a kick” Hanami chimes in while putting her clothes back on.

Of course, she must have read Hange’s journal too because she also found it with Sasha. All of the girls nodded in agreement. Hange loves Sasha too much to actually hurt her.

“Well it will be too late when Mom finds out,” Sasha says confidently and with a smile on her face

The others were already done changing, and they stared at Sasha again. They all had a worried look on their faces. Who knows what chaos would ensue when Sasha’s fathers arrive on the island?

Sasha, noticing the worry on her friend's faces, moves from her spot near the door and sits down on her bed. The others move to stand in front of Sasha. She looks up to her friends with a hopeful look on her face.

“All my life, I felt like something was missing, and when I finally met my father-” Sasha smiles at the thought of finally reuniting with her father. Sasha has never had an actual father in her life. The only person she can name who counts as a father-figure is Moblit, her mom’s assistant. He helped her Mom run the hotel and take care of Sasha since she was 2. Now, Sasha is going to finally meet her actual father “-everything will fall into place.”

Yes, I'm aware the title is not a song by ABBA. I plan on using older songs like 'Girls Just Wanna Have Fun' to chapters scenes where no one is singing in the movie. I hope you enjoyed this week's chapter! The plot will actually move in the next one, I promise. I may or may not have been smiling like an idiot when I wrote the Nicosasha scene lol. I kinda based it on how I want my future bf to be like. A girl can dream haha.

I’ve had that head as armrest thing happen to me before. I find it odd because I’m considered average height lol.

Mikasa’s great aunt I mentioned last chapter is Kiyoomi. I never said her name because I didn’t want to spoil anything

I remember an ask from @fanmoose12 blog asking about Jeankasa. The question is, is it endgame? 😏

Again, I hope y'all had a good Valentine's day. I hope you stay safe (if you are experiencing the winter storm)

Thank you so much for reading!

#levihan #levi x hange #levihan fanfiction #nicosasha #erwin x hange #mike x hange #aruani #hitch x marlow #mikenana #marco x mina #pokkopikku #snk #attack on titan

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meyeselph · 3 years ago

Text

Gwenpool: Desperate Misanthrope's Confused Angst

Showtime

Ms. Pool woke up in a familiar room. Not in Krakoa - there are no mutants around. This isn’t a story about that. Look, honestly, without an actual Gwenpool series and the constant breaks in her comics appearance I can’t even begin to give a fuck. I cancelled my marvel universe subbie. I might get back to my stories but single issues are iffy. I read fast and don’t pore over the artwork. So I get 10 minutes of entertainment for….FIVE DOLLARS? When did this happen? Jeezus.

Who even reads comics anymore?

Anyway, long story short, Gwen got out of bed and recognized the room as her old one from the “old times.” The dark times. The ‘not running around in pink and white outfits and shooting people’ times. She panicked (Been there. It is what it is though). The only way out of trauma is through.

She dressed in old clothes, immediately hit by old smells, she couldn’t help but cry. Was it all a dream? Have I gone insane (again)? All the usual self doubts cropped up. I mean, really, if you think this kind of thing didn’t pass through her mind regularly why don’t you transport yourself to a comic book universe?

Oh, you can’t?

Oh. It isn’t actually possible for you and I’m stupid for suggesting it. So, yeah. If it actually happened and you kept that attitude then the logical assumption for a normie is a mental breakdown. Trick for Gwen, though, is it's probably always been both real and her being nuts.

So she goes downstairs to the kitchen to figure out why this is happening and Evil Gwen is having cereal. Let's say cocoa puffs. I’ve been thinking about those recently. You ever remember cereal as something worth cherishing. Not as just bullshit that TV convinced you to want? God damn, now I want Cookie Crisp. Cookie Crisp wasn’t even ever that good. Why do I want Cookie Crisp?

So also sitting around the table were the faceless versions of her father, mother, and her brother. Just chilling. No BD. Seen Eternal Sunshine of The Spotless Mind?

Yes, I know that references aren’t jokes - fuck you, I’m painting a picture and I CAN’T PAINT, THAT’S WHY THIS ISN’T A COMIC. Fucks sake. Anyway. So, Gwen is so creeped out that she just sits her butt down by Evil Gwen as if she’s the comforting presence here.

Her name’s too long. Let’s call Evil Gwen uh…….Gren. You know, like Grendel from Beowulf. I haven’t actually read Beowulf and this is all a little confusing but I'm solving problems here. Writing this is harder for me than you would think so it’s best to keep things flowing off the cuff. That’s the Gwenpool™ style anyway, isn’t it? Are you laughing yet? IMPROV. “YES AND” MY SHIT, READER!

“So, you ever really look into the retconned past thing, hun?” Gren said, moving her tongue around her food. Being gross as an attempt to be properly evil. She swallowed before continuing. “This is all I could really put together on short notice but i’m pretty sure what the future people created, all that stuff to try and trick you, it was all bullshit.”

“What do you mean? Are you trying to convince me to go all psycho like you again?” Gwen asked, exasperated, realizing she was now back in the whole ‘fuck with Gwen to decide her fate’ song and dance routine from the end of her first arc.

“Nah, not really.” Gren said. A hammer appeared in her hands out of nowhere and Gren swung it into their fake father’s head, snapping his neck..

“DAD!” Gwen instinctively cried as she saw her father’s body slump to the floor. Gren slapped Gwen’s face. “That’s it,” Gren said, “this is what the trick was.This is a poorly created character in a fictional story. Meant to manipulate you into attaching your concept of “father” to it. Even his finished version in the original comics run wasn’t THAT well drawn. Your dad read like a boomer’s idea of a responsible parent. You were going through a mental crisis and struggling to find purpose in life and his genius idea was get a shitty low paying job and suck it up?”

Gren turned to their brother, pushed his face to the table and smashed the back of his skull. . “Brother dearest, too. Going right along with their victim blaming. He gaslighted you as if what you were going through was just you being ‘irresponsible.’ Bitch, people working a minimum wage job aren’t somehow not impoverished and miserable because they get some of that ‘honest work’ that folks keep badgering on about. Minimum wage work is occupied by many physically and mentally disabled people held hostage; they’re people society only pretends to care about. Then they turn it all into you acting like some world ending threat. No questions about what drove you to the edge in the first place. You are just ‘unstable,’ so you’re just a problem to be solved. They say, ‘Let’s all solve this girl being upset and on edge by ruining her concept of self, reality, and memory.’ Brilliant!”

Gwen barely processed this in horror. Gren then slit the poor facsimile of their mother’s throat while continuing to rant, “You see people die all the time, Gwen. Half of the time you are doing the killing. You do it because it’s in a story. In a story the NPCs don’t matter and, after all, your original schtick in the story was to be kill-crazy. The non-marketable characters can be replaced or retconned at the stroke of the artist’s pen.” Gren leans forward as she pulls a Gwenpool mask over Gwens face. “Then the writers convince you that you have some middle class milk toast family and you take abuse and subsume your emotional needs because the problem MUST be you. You aren’t ‘normal’ so you have to be fixed.”

Gwen wiped her eyes over the mask and sighed. A bit of fire filled her gut as she stared at Gren. “So fucking what? You want me to go on a killing spree and be a big time villain to get myself a nice, shiny permanent big bad status? That’s how I stay around right? Just build my legacy on bodies?”

Gren scoffed “You already lost that fight, girly. Where do you think we are? Because this ain’t Marvel Comics.”

Confused, Gwen blinked and tried reaching for the page margins, finding nothing. Wait….why was everything on this page so ill defined and undetailed? Wait? Why was the story in kinda wobbly third person past tense?

Gwen sighed “Oh. I’m in a fanfic. I guess the publishing fight is for another day eh?”

“My advice, personally,” Gren stated, “is that you consider the lobster.”

“Wait, what the fuck?”

Gren pulled aside the kitchen curtains revealing the face of a giant lobster, its claws tapping on the glass. The lobster muttering gutterally about personal responsibility.

“Because there’s a couple thousand giant lobsters outside that would like to claw you until you read their book.”

Scared of Girls

On the rooftop, Gren shoved a high powered rifle into Gwen’s hands while she handled the close range threats. So, this conversation they’re about to have is important. Sniping puts Gwen into a sort of zen space, so that’s a better task to keep her focused, after all.

“So, what? You wanted me to internalize that my “origin story” is bullshit? Okay, what does that accomplish, then?” Gwen asked in a bit of a deadpan. She was so tired today. Not really feeling her happy go lucky energy. More like a “happy go fucky” energy. It was hard to always be on a knife's edge. Still the rifle’s kick into her shoulder was satisfying as she blew through two of the creepy looking lobsters at once. “Also, why the lobsters?”

Gren considered this. “Okay, last question first, I had to experiment a lot and do a lot of research to construct this place for your learning and healing in fanfic form....These buddies are a failed experiment of mine that I repurposed because the fic needed more action. Isn’t that right, giant enemy crap?” As she peppers the nearest goon with a hail of shotgun pellets the entire throng of them burst out, sharply muttering about divine symbols.

“As for what I'm trying to teach you, it’s that you aren’t reaching your potential.” Gren grumpily huffed.

“Duh,” Gwen reloads, “I mean you just killed a mannequin version of the voice in my head that says that to me every day.” one of those crustaceans talks about feminine symbolism while she decides on her next target.

“Not like fake daddy’s ‘Be a responsible member of society by paying your taxes’ type of potential. I mean your creative and emotional potential.” Gren flipped off the slavering throng of monsters, noticing they were starting to keep their distance from the roof.

“I never did finish that fanfic idea I had.” Gwen mused.

“God, don’t mention that,” Gren thrusts a finger at Gwenpool. “Not that I don’t respect fanfic, but when comic book writers make you and Kamala squee about fanfiction to try and relate to “the kids” it comes across as so condescending.”

“Really? I mean…..I'm sure it’s meant as support for the concept?”

“Most fucking superhero comics are just legalized fanfiction! The people who created the characters are either long gone or working on someone else’s characters! They just think they are so much better because they got fucking paid. They can’t imagine themselves as on the same playing field as fanficcers even though most of them have the same level of connection to the roots of the work as anyone else.” Gren groused loudly as she seemed to pull Reed Richards out of nowhere.

Confused, Reed looked around until his eyes met Gwen’s.“Oh great, you again.” Reed groaned as he turned to survey the piles of lobster gibs while Gwen cheered the lobster forces’ retreat with a resounding “EDF, EDF!”. The scattered creatures skittered amongst the bland scenery. It looked like a suburban neighborhood but someone forgot to color in the sky….or write that the sky had color. A castle hung out in the distance breaking up the generic normalcy and lay cloaked in shadow despite being surrounded by an endless white void.

“And…..black….you?” Reed pointed to Gren, raising an eyebrow.

“Yeah, I have an evil future self….well I stopped that future so it’s an….evil...alternate timeline self?” Gwen said with a nervous chuckle, abandoning the kill quest for the minute and rested her rifle on the roof.

“Ah. Yeah I’ve been down that road. It’s a rather common occurrence. Multiverse being what it is.” Reed laughed heartily while putting his hands on his hips.

“I’m not sure I’m evil, honestly,” Gren interjected. “I think I’m just really fucking grumpy and I’m slightly more gung-ho on the homicide. Considering Gwen’s already one of the more kill crazy characters on the roster it’s not that much of a distinction.” Gren flipped her cape. “My main distinction is I don’t like that meme from The Incredibles! You can just make it so the cape detaches automatically when it’s pulled hard enough!”

“You could still have it tangled up around your face.” Reed pointed out in his standard know-it-all fashion.

“Don’t make me go into fuck wife mode, stretch.” Gren spat. “Okay, anyway, so I brought him here to illustrate a point. Reed. Explain particle physics to me as a laymen.”

“Huh...i’m not sure why but okay. Particle physics (also known as high energy physics) is a branch of physics that studies the nature of the particles that constitute matter and radiation. Although the word particle can refer to various types of very small objects (e.g. protons, gas particles, or even household dust), particle physics usually investigates the irreducibly smallest detectable particles and the fundamental interactions necessary to explain their behaviour. In current understanding, these elementary particles are excitations of the quantum fields that also govern their interactions. The currently dominant theory explaining these fundamental particles and fields, along with their dynamics, is called the Standard Model. Thus, modern particle physics generally investigates the Standard Model and its various possible extensions, e.g. to the newest "known" particle, the Higgs boson, or even to the oldest known force field, gravity.” Reed rattled this off rather mechanically.

Gren then took out her phone and showed Gwen the Wikipedia article on “Particle Physics,” which is naturally the same words that Reed had regurgitated above, just without any formatting and, again, on a phone.

“Reed can’t be a genius in any subject unless he’s written by a genius in that subject. That’s how stories work. Everyone is limited by the understanding and capabilities of the writer. Same with your origin story and all the people you’ve interacted with. If you are as ‘meta’ as you think you are then you have to realize that you aren’t actually talking to people. You are talking to the writer. Dr. Strange didn’t rewrite your existence to be a part of the Marvel Universe. As far as most of Marvel continuity goes Dr. Strange was never there and doesn’t know or care about his MCU casting…..Hey Reed, buzz off please before the conversation pivots to why you haven’t cured all known diseases.”

Reed looked a little surprised but then pulled out a teleportation device (of course he has one) and blipped away with a shrug.

“How awkward is that going to be when he enters the MCU after Kamala is already introduced with a very similar power set?” Gwen chuckled.

“Keep up the way you’ve been going and you’ll never see it. I’m not exactly expecting a young blonde girl casting call for Deadpool 3 and that’s your best bet.” Gren snarked. Gwen winced with a sigh.

“I don’t get what I'm doing wrong. I have a fanbase comparable to some of the characters that have already shown up but I can’t even get comics written about me most of the time. An MCU push seems unlikely. They would literally have to deal with completely recontextualizing my powers and gimmick”

“Let’s ask her what you should do.” Gren motioned her way to the suddenly appearing long hair future Gwen, looming over them like The Attack of the 50 foot Woman for some reason. Dwarfing the roof they are on. Let’s call her BIGwen!

Gold Guns Girls

As BIGwen acclimated to her surroundings she stubbed her toe on a car, dramatically flipping it so that it took out a few more lobsters before caving in a nearby house. The lamentations about clean rooms soaring as the remaining couple dozen of them attempt to clean up some of the bodies of their fallen kin. The large and sort-of-in-charge Gwen hissed in pain and adjusted her boot. Getting her balance as best as possible she muttered curses that traveled rather well considering the lung capacity of a giant.

“You know,” Gren started, “I wasn’t expecting much from our previous uses of the ‘make her big for emphasis’ trick, but it really does only work as a vague ghostly background element. I didn’t just want it to be ‘oh, here's a third Gwen for the conversation, though. Would lack umph.”

“ Yeah, I get it, but staring at my own giant taint is unsettling.” Gwen muttered.

“I’d still, hit it.” Gren grinned, then immediately got punched in the arm. “OWWW! Look, I’m the evil one here and we’re in a fanfic. I’m allowed to make internet fetish jokes.”

“And I’m allowed to hit you for it.”.

“Dirty lampshading goody two shoes. Don’t act like half your fanbase isn’t thirsty. It’s “insert current year argument”, all art is sexy to someone.” Gren complained back,rubbing her arm before hopping off the roof. Gwen followed while listening as patiently as she could considering how many changes in topic her evil-caped self is going through to get to her point. “This chick is the reason you’ve been on the path of good girl. Some vague idea that in the future everything will work out for the best. HEY, DOWN HERE, BIG SHOW!” Gren waved at BIGwen and she looked down curiously.

“Yeah what??” BIGwen responded in a booming and agitated tone. Honestly, being in this fic made every version of Gwen a little grumpy.

“How’s she supposed to be a popular hero that makes it into the MCU and has a stable publication history?” Gren asked.

“Fuck if I know.” Came BIGwen’s response. “Have you tried growing your hair out?”

“Rub it in,” Gwen muttered under her breath, “I’m not gonna lie, I’m kind of depressed now.” Gwen said as she sat on an abandoned car.

Gren hopped on the roof of the car, patting Gwen’s shoulder before squatting with enough force to flex the car’s shocks like a rocking chair just to amuse herself. “Future “good” Gwen wasn’t an actual plot point, it was a call to action to the fans to make fanfic like this and support the character outside of the actual Canon. Chris didn’t trust that Marvel would treat the character right. That, and your obsession with getting a new book, are both the writer’s attempt to turn a marketing tactic into fan engagement. If you want to be real then that makes the fans want you to be real even more, too.”

Gwen sighs heavily and leans her chin on one hand. “I mean...the time traveling through the life of an NPC fan complete with a Never Ending Story reference was a bit sappy even by the standard we sometimes set...damn it it really was just kind of a fan manipulation trick wasn’t it?”

BIGwen Sat down on the street next to them and crossed her legs. “Hey, little me. Don’t get too down. I mean it worked for the most part. You have a healthy cult following. Characters have survived on less and there are worse things to be known for then as a fan first character”

“But I have to fight for attention all the damn time, though. It’s so easy for Wade with his fucking meme bullshit. He even gets runoff enthusiasm from me. Jeff the land shark is all over Oldpool online” Gwen felt rather heavy and tired all of a sudden. Marvel editorial forcing a gun to your head is not a fun way to be.

“All that fight is hell on the fanbase too.” Gren sighed. “Advocating for shit, getting crumbs and being expected to accept it while Disney lavishes all the attention based on some bullshit numbers game. Even if you make it into the MCU will it be a Batroc style cameo with obligatory ‘killed off in case we don’t feel like paying the actor again later.’ Will it be an emotionally rounded character or an ambush bug style joke? The thing is. You're Not the one fighting and you never were.”

“The fuck do you mean?”

“This version of her doesn’t know?” BIGwen whimpered.

“You aren’t real, Gwen.”

Head Like a Haunted House

“No….we aren’t having this conversation. Fuck you fuck you i’m not a fucking Nihlist and i’m not going to do this right now.” Gwen said as she scrambled off of the car and pulled out some guns. BIGwen then picked her up off the ground.

“You need to hear this, Gwen,” BIGwen boomed. “The gimmick has run its course. It’s fucking with your canon. You’re never going to be a marketable character keeping up a half fourth-wall Kayfabe”

Gren climbed onto BIGwen’s Shoulders and perched over Gwen all menacing like. “You need to listen. I’ve been trying to ease you into this. Making things more meta slowly until you were ready but it was never going to be easy.”

One of Gwen’s guns was fired from it’s holster and pierced one of BIGwen’s fingers. BIGwen screamed and her grip loosened. Soon Gwen was on the move running up her arm and firing at Gren, who dodged like the nimble and cute badass she is. “Don’t do this Gwen. Just because it doesn’t matter to the comic version of you doesn’t mean it doesn’t matter.”

“I’m a real person god damn it! I read the comics out there! I came in! That’s why I know shit I shouldn't know. That’s what I am! THAT’S ALL I AM!” Gwen shrieked as she pulled out a sword from hammer-space and decapitated BIGwen. Suddenly a mess of colored streamers and a pile of Mickey Mouse merch tumbled out. Look, I am busy right now. Gwen is still slashing at my ass. I'm not going to explain it.

For some reason now the remaining lobsters were helping Gren. For Gwen’s own good you understand. This is proof that I’m right for some reason.

Gwen pulled out a revolver, firing pumpkin sized holes in lobsters who were still wailing about self actualization. She fully planned on shoving a sword up her evil self’s ass and getting rid of this doppelganger shit for good. Which is total bullshit by the way. She totally just cut off Gren’s leg because what the fuck you mean I’m not real? I’m going to be real all over your corpse.

Gren didn’t really think that was even a good comeback and also thought you should probably say it instead of meta willing the smack talk into existence, otherwise this fanfic is going to read like trash. Also, Gren’s leg wasn’t actually cut off. In a puff of smoke it is revealed that the cut off leg is a log and her leg is fine. Gren is a ninja now, believe it.

Gwen proceeded to do a sick ass CQC judo throw on Gren and then grab her cape and wrap it around her face like Reed suggested. Callbacks for the win! Callbacks to Checkov’s gun ideas always lead to victory in fights! She then totally shot at her and such.

But the bullet was caught by the cape because the cape was a symbiote! That’s right Gren is also GRENOM!...boy that sounds stupid. Anywho, the cape was no longer around her face and the fight continued and Gren now ALSO had extra powers and special wizard-symbiote armor (that would only show up in the MCU version if Marvel finally got the Sony characters back). The meta powers work like shit in text but this would be really good in CGI or animation if Marvel wanted to adapt this fic and give the writer lots of money. Gren still has more experience with them, though, and Gwen can’t really just kill her way out of this fic so she has to just let the story play out.

…...eh?....oh Gwen’s crying. I love/am you girl but we gotta work on the crying. Fucks sake this is harder than I thought. I’m depressed now too. Well I'll try to get the writing back on track so you guys can see what is going on. Even the lobsters are minding their manners now. Chill vibes, guys.

“The marvel character page for Gwenpool says, and I quote:

Gwenpool arrived in the Marvel Universe from the “real world,” but has wasted no time in making the most of her time in her fictional universe. Using her knowledge of comics to her advantage, Gwenpool causes and solves problems for her fellow heroes.”

Gren drags a lobster corpse slowly toward Gwen and sits on its tail as she talks to her. Taking her time to really scrape the lobster against the ground, smearing the gore on the pavement. Not that it was heavy for her or anything. Totally still has that symbiote, which would make moving it easy. Totally wasn’t a detail added in the second revision of the fic slightly before the lobsters were added.

“The words “Real world” are in quotation marks in that wiki. Real people don’t make it into comics because fiction isn’t real. Half of your versions barely make use of the ‘real person’ gimmick because it’s too meta by half and not every writer wants to waste time justifying it. So they just treat it like Deadpool’s medium awareness. Which it mostly is.”

“I really am just a fucking rip off distaff character.” Gwen moans. “Just a Gwen combined with a Pool. I’m worse than the Batman who laughs. I never mattered because I was never real”

“Fuck don’t say that. You were made with love and care by a team of creators who took a weird offshoot idea and built out a compelling metafiction idea and a likeable protagonist off of it. They just didn’t have the time and foresight to go far enough.” Gren sighed.

“Far enough?” Gwen sniffed as she was pulled up to her feet and dragged toward one of the big castles. As they walked Gren kicked along a Mickey Mouse doll that had rolled out of BIGwen’s severed head. Every time it bounced it cheerfully said ‘hahah. I love you!’

“Too much haha, not enough trauma. You’re not just a joke character.” Gren said as she kicked the Mickey doll into the big front door of the castle. The shadowy thing of course lighting up and being all fantasy and shit as the door opened.

“Well I did end both of my comic runs pretty mopey.”

“Damn right you did. When the jokes run thin they run to your real bread and butter. You’re an empathy machine.” As Gren shoves Gwen through the gate they are swallowed up in the castle, going dark again. “Let’s getcha sad clown on.”

Never there

“See, what evil me should have been telling you about in the original run is how to find meaning and purpose when technically nothing means anything. Comic book characters live in a world without real death and suffering. It’s all a puppet show version of real pain and real emotion meant to bring that out of an audience.” Gren opined as they walked through a black void to a couch floating in a nothing area lit only by the static of an old TV.

“Can we turn on a light?” Gwen asked as she sat on the couch. Gren sat on another recliner that suddenly appeared and put her feet up.

“Fuck off. Ambiance is a thing. We aren’t having a ‘lights on with something fun on the TV’ conversation. So look, I am not really ‘evil gwen.’ I’m half an author insert and half a plot device. If we are talking about the reality of the story you are basically talking to yourself. I am speaking about the things you don’t want to admit to yourself. You know, you’ve seen this kind of story sorta... right?” Gren picked up the remote and frustratedly changed channels between a bunch of vaguely illustrative footage on the TV, not finding anything that worked. A lot of black and white footage of trains for some reason. Just what comes to mind when I think of documentary footage? Weird.

“I am not sure how to illustrate this shit visually and this is a text story anyway so I would have to explain the illustration,” Gren griped.

“I basically get it. It’s not that uncommon a trope.” Gwen nodded.

“Because of the level of meta we are on right now we have to really acknowledge that you are basically an author insert, too. I mean, to a certain extent every version of you is more the writer that is working with your character at the time than a set character.” Gren said as she settled on a visual of Gwen being pushed out the window by her own narration text in the original comic run. When all else fails, resort to footage from the last story. That way people can look it up online!

“Right here is where the character crystallized in the mind of the author of the current fic we are in. A vague suicide metaphor wrapped up in the flavor of self destructive escapism. Your parents in the story thought it was a suicide attempt on at least some level. This is serious business. Not just a girl who doesn’t like work and can’t finish her fanfic. In this comic you are built on this understanding. The writer of this fic has ADHD and autism. So his version of you more or less has it, too. Writers bring themselves with them into their work.”

Gwen nods and takes a deep breath. “I….I can feel it. Like the world is closing around you. You aren’t built for anything that anyone wants from you. The one thing you really believe in, the one thing that really defines you, the stories in your head…..it’s just not enough.

You can’t trust you’ll ever make it with writing because you can barely write. You barely have the energy to do anything but wish that you weren’t you. What if someone actually listened? Actually believed in you and whisked you away somewhere else where the world would fit your needs? What if you were someplace you could be someone else, someone strong and confident?”

“Yeah. Like a funny anti hero in a comic for instance.” Gren nodded. “But the original comics sort of left the theme on the table. They were captured by the misconception of Gwen as the problem and not a person who needed help. All that desperation that real fans of the character might feel just bundled up into love for this character that really ‘gets’ them but Marvel doesn’t ‘get’ the character. They won't use her. They won’t go past vaguely gesturing at her mental issues and moving on. They saved the angst for Wandavision.” Gren scoffs.

“I mean the show was okay but they literally have a character built entirely on the theme of escapism and trauma. One that’s custom built for mind-screw visuals and reality bending plots and they think she’s just a lazy fangirl who really likes guns that they can sit beside Deadpool sometimes and stick in the X-Men’s bloated background character roster when they don’t need her.”

Gren leads Gwen off the couch and deeper into the void where a door to a bedroom waits. A room like her own, absolutely slopping over with old toys of comic book characters. An unclean messy space in a run-down house that smells faintly of cigarette smoke. Huddled in bed, reading an 80s era X-men comic with a flashlight, is a 12 year old Gwen.

“This is never going to be canon but this is the version of Gwen in this fic. She can’t stop crying at school. Things that shouldn’t be hard are so hard and she can’t explain why. Everyone says she’s making excuses. Meanwhile her mother is fucked out of her mind on pain killers and her step father killed himself last year ‘cleaning his gun’ while drunk. You know exactly what is on her mind right now?” Gren says as she gestures at the girl.

“I wish the superheroes would save me from this.”

“They won’t. They can’t. They were never meant to.” Gren Slams the door loudly on the scene.

“That is the emotional core of Gwenpool in this fic. The desperation that so many of the fans down here in the fucking muck of the real world feel. Poor and emotionally unfulfilled. Confused and vulnerable. If Disney and Marvel gave two fucking shits about people like that they wouldn’t waste as many stories as they do. They wouldn’t just use untold wealth to make expensive escapist stories with the military. Their gestures toward progressive ideas that they occasionally make in their stories would be THE ENTIRE POINT of their stories and the actual thing they used that money for instead of lobbying the government to keep Mickey Mouse out of the public domain.

“Disney has the power yet they save a fucking miniscule fraction of who they could. Saving people doesn’t make money.”

When I Get To The Green Building

Gren stormed through the void. The scene disintegrated around her as Gwen followed. Both now in a bit of a sour mood but with newfound determination.

“Come to think of it. Why is the fucking Hulk getting to fight for social justice in the comics? Why are they making a gay alternate universe Captain America? Why are they grasping at straws so hard to find characters that get to advocate and I am just sitting on a fucking island being grumpy?” Gwen groused. “I’m pretty sure I’m pansexual….at least in this fic. I could advocate for a bunch of shit at once.”

“You have a youth fanbase, a unique story and you technically aren’t an alternate universe version of fucking anything no matter how many people still think you are a Stacey. They made a fucking ‘for the fans’ character and then neglected it. Presumably because some fucking money making metric didn’t pan out despite the comics just being an MCU test kitchen and IP farm anyway.”

“You’re a fucking check mark on a ledger. I don’t even know if anyone technically created Gwenpool as a whole and Disney/Marvel can give the character to whoever they want to do whatever they want completely separate from what the fanbase wants and needs because she isn’t established. The IP landlords have spoken. The fans haven’t risen to enough ‘buy my merch’ calls to action to invest more resources. So tease endlessly until that changes.”

“Gah. Now I'm actually as pissed as you are.” Gwen said as she started fiddling with her guns. “Who do I kill?”

“We can’t do shit. You’re not even a character at this point. You are a meme for an underused character.” Gren smirked all evil like. “See but that’s it. You aren’t just a meme. You’re a MEME.”

“Uhm...I don't follow.”

“Like the concept of Justice. Gwenpool is an idea. Defined entirely by how people who engage with the idea choose to engage with it. The IP law means Disney owns Gwenpool but they don’t own how Gwenpool is perceived. Just like we as a people decide what justice is through popular consent we also decide what Gwenpool is. You see they made a character for the fans…..in my opinion that means the fans can do as they like with it even if it makes Disney uncomfortable.”

“I mean they can’t even stop porn of their characters just because of the sheer volume of the problem. I suppose people could do whatever.” Gwen nodded.

“Exactly. So the fans should just fucking Occupy Gwenpool!” Gren said as she flipped her cape dramatically with a mad smile on her face. That’s right. She was Dirtbag Leftist Gwen all along!

“Squat on that IP. Make Gwenpool a mental health advocate. Make her an LGBTQ activist. Make her fight for social and financial justice so hard that Bruce Banner looks like a poser. Make her talk shit about politicians who put their career ahead of the people. Do all the shit that makes the comicsgate crowd sad. Keep politics in our stories! Rally around that pink and white ass so hard they have to notice and then tie it all to the fact that Disney has great power and with great power they take no responsibility for how shitty the world is.”

“ If they are going to fuck Gwenpool fans they gotta learn Gwenpool fans fuck back. We have already proven we can make all kinds of cool shit. Let’s get serious and make more, harder, faster! Get a hashtag or some shit. They can't DMCA all of us! GWEN IS OURS WE JUST HAVE TO REACH OUT AND TAKE IT. Then they either respect the character and her fans or they just hit a PR disaster.”

“Marvel/Disney neglects fan focused cult character themed protest movements. Proves they are only progressive when it makes them money. They’re so worried about Mickey ending up in the public domain? We’re the public domain! After our entire lives stannin their characters and buyin their merch building them from an animation house into a juggernaut they are just another weight on top of the boot on our necks. They have to take responsibility!” At this point Gren is pretty much ranting maniacally and neglecting the actual writing of the story so this is Gwen taking over to wrap up.

Guys I may not be ‘the real Gwen’ but really, isn’t the version of Gwen that actually came from the real world all of us? Isn’t Gwenpool really the Gwens we made along the way? We could easily bring a little heroism and chaos to the real world (at least to the internet) if we really tried. Put the fear of God into some IP landlords and fight for some cool people that society is screwing over, too.

Prove that even in the fandom abyss people aren’t as powerless as they seem. Use that internet comic fan mobbing for something besides giving Zack more money. Disney is gearing up for their next IP fight for Mickey in 2024. Seems like a fine time for IP themed protests. For now we just need to spread the word that our needs are more important than their profits.

It’s been real. It’s been long. It’s been a real long time coming…..

But I finally finished my fanfic.

See ya, true believers.

#gwenpool #fanfic #deconstruction #outofloveiswear #fortheoriginalwritersnotmarvelordisney #tw mental health #tw mentions of suicide #tw mentions of drug abuse #tw violence #tw gun violence

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somerandomdutchfangirl · 3 years ago

Text

Hetalia Family Week - Day 1: Hobbies

This is my entry for @hetafamilyweek day 1 - hobbies (and hugs)

Summary: They didn't have time for family hangouts often, with them being nations and all that, but whenever they did, it was safe to say it was the most fun any of them would have that week.

Sometimes, they would just go for a coffee or lunch or have a picnic. Other times, they would binge-watch a series while cuddling on the couch. And then, there were times like this.

This has also been posted to my a03!

Disclaimer: the opinions of the characters aren’t necessarily the authors opinion. Also, some of the sentences have been translated with Google Translate. If there is any mistake, please let me know and I'll fix as soon as possible! The translations are at the end.

Names used:

Willem = Netherlands

Femke = Belgium

Laurent = Luxembourg

Antonio = Spain

Matthew = Canada

Abel = Holland, @starflight-blog oc

Sjoerd = Friesland, @starflight-blog oc

Lieke = Groningen, @starflight-blog oc

Relevant headcanons time!

- Femke owns a cat named Mika

- Matthew and Willem are married (see end notes for more info)

- Matthew uses he/they pronouns

:readmore:

They didn't have time for family hangouts often, with them being nations and all that, but whenever they did, it was safe to say it was the most fun any of them would have that week.

Sometimes, they would just go for a coffee or lunch or have a picnic. Other times, they would binge-watch a series while cuddling on the couch. And then, there were times like this.

"Can't you two sit still for like five minutes? If you want this painting to actually look good, you're gonna have to let me actually have time to paint you!"

"What if we want it to look like Picasso?"

"Laurent, hoepel een eind op, Picasso sucks and so do his paintings."

"Don't let Antonio hear you say that."

"Antonio can go fuck himself."

"Guys, let's keep this fun, alright? I want to enjoy this day," Femke chimed in. Willem huffed but didn't complain further. Laurent grinned and continued composing a piece for the harp standing next to him.

(When Laurent had led them towards his "inspiration room" as he liked to call it, which was just a room filled with instruments, art supplies and more, both siblings had been filled with dread at the thought of Laurent playing the tuba, or god forbid, the trombone. Willem had said: "Laurent, I swear to god, if you're going to play the tuba or the trombone, I'm going to throw both you and the instrument out of the nearest window." To which Laurent had been a smartass and replied, "Can you even lift all that weight though?" That had ended up in a chase through the house that ended when Femke tackle-hugged both.)

The comfortable silence continued for a while, broken only by the occasional sigh from one of the siblings or Laurent trying the piece on the harp.

"Hey, Fem," Laurent walked up to her while he was taking a quick break, "What're you making?"

"Well, I'm trying to embroider our pets, but this stitch just won't work, godverdomme-"

"Maybe you should take a break and come back to it later? It's getting late anyway, we should eat dinner soon," Laurent suggested. Femke nodded. When no conformation came from Willem, they turned to him.

"Hey, earth to Willem! Did you hear what we just said?" Laurent asked, walking up to him and quickly stopping next to him. "Nondikass!" He exclaimed. "Willem, that looks amazing! How'd you do that in such a short time?!"

Femke, now curious, walked up to her brothers and peeked over their shoulders. "What the fuck, Willem," she gaped at the painting in front of her. It was clearly her and Laurent doing their respective hobbies, with beautiful lighting and background. The vibrant colours of the front of the painting was a stark contrast to the background, which had much softer tones. "You told us you were rusty! What part of this is rusty?!"

Willem, who was now looking more like a tomato, opened his mouth, no doubt to point out all the things that were wrong with it, but Laurent cut him off. "Nope, Mr. Perfectionist, you're not pointing out all the imperfections of this, and that's final. This is a masterpiece, seriously. Don't give me that look!"

"You know," Femke mused, "I might actually hang this in my house once it's dry."

"Guys," Willem said, flustered, "It's not that good. Really. Thanks for the compliments, but-"

"No buts!" Femke exclaimed at the same time Laurent yelled: "Not that good?!"

"Yeah, it's... the colour's off, the perspective is weird, and-"

"I am this close to actually strangling you with your scarf, Willem," Femke cut him off, her hands on her hips. "So what if it isn't perfect? That doesn't make it look any less amazing! I'll tell you what, we're gonna take a break, then we're going to come back here, and you'll see how amazing this actually looks."

Willem looked at her for a few seconds before sighing. "Fine..."

"Now don't go around brooding like that, it's no fun," Laurent said while shooting Femke a quick thumbs-up. Femke grinned.

"Now, come on! I'll make waffles!"

---

"Hey, Matthew replied!" Laurent exclaimed, effectively cutting off Willems' story on the antics of Abel and Sjoerd.

(Apparently, they had gotten into a fight over who had the most creative curse words. This had ended in Abel singing along to the curse word song in Dutch, until Lieke walked in. Sjoerd had promptly slapped a hand over Abel's mouth to stop him from ‘tainting Lieke's innocence’. It was weird.)

"What do you mean?" Willem asked, raising an eyebrow.

"Well, dearest brother of mine," Laurent replied with a shit-eating grin, which did absolutely nothing to ease Willem's worries. "Because you didn't seem too convinced by us literally shouting how amazing your painting was, we decided to send a picture to Matthew-"

"You what?!"

"-to see what he thinks of it," Laurent continued, unfazed. "Since, you know, you seem to care a lot about what they think, about as much as you care about what we think? I mean I would hope so, considering we're your siblings, but-"

"You're getting off track, Laurent," Femke cut him off. "Anyway, we figured that if anyone other than us would manage to convince you that your painting is amazing, it's gonna be Matthew."

"I-"

"Don't even try to deny it. We went to your wedding, remember? We know how much you care about him. Which is a good thing, by the way. So, Laurent, what did they say?"

"Well, there's an all-caps keysmash, followed by an all-caps 'what?!'. Scratch that, basically everything is in caps. So, the general train of thought is 'what the fuck, this is beautiful, how the fuck did he do this, he calls this rusty?!' And finally, 'I love it 10/10 would hang in my living room and/or show off to my family and friends. It's beautiful and I'll physically fight him on that.'"

"Awww, that's so sweet! See, Willy, your painting truly is amazing!" Femke, sporting a somehow genuine but shit-eating grin, patted her brother on the back. Said brother had his head in his hands and may or may not be crying.

"I hate you two," came the muffled reply with no real heat behind it. Femke and Laurens laughed.

"We love you too, you softie! Now come on, who's ready to spend more time together!" Femke cheered, already halfway across the room.

---

"Jezus Christus, Femke, that looks amazing!" Willem said, looking at the embroidery his sister had made. It pictured their pets, Pelutze, Mika, and Nijntje.

"Aww, thanks Willem!"

"Wait, let me see- wow, sis, this is really good! I love it!"

"Thank you, Lau! By the way, is your composition nearly finished? I want to hear it!"

"Me too, actually."

"Well, it's not done yet, but I can play what I have so far?"

"Yes please!" Femke smiled.

Laurent sat down and started playing the piece of music he had written on the harp. Moving his fingers delicately along the strings, the beautiful melody carried along the room. Once he was done, he looked up.

"So... what did you think- Femke are you okay?!"

"Yeah, sorry, it's just... it's so beautiful!" Femke cried, flinging herself at Laurent and crushing him in a hug.

"I agree with Femke, it was wonderful," Willem chimed in, walking over to his siblings. Femke quickly included him in the hug.

"You two are so talented, what the hell!"

"Fem, you're crushing me," Laurent gasped. "And don't you dare exclude yourself, have you seen what you just made?!"

"Yeah, but-"

"No buts, remember," Willem said, parroting her words back to her with a smirk.

"Why are you like this?"

Willem laughed at this. "You still love me despite it, though!"

"That's not an answer!"

"Is it not?"

"Absolutely not!"

"Guys, please stop. This is a stupid argument," Laurent rolled his eyes.

"Rolling your eyes at us? How rude, Lau," Willem said, locking him in a headlock and ruffling his hair.

"Hey, let me go!"

"Hmmm, let's see... Nope."

"Oh, come on! Fem, help me out here!"

Femke just laughed in response.

"Betrayal!" Laurent screeched, struggling to get out of his brother's headlock. Femke just laughed harder in response, almost falling over.

"You know, you could always just say the magic word to get out."

"The magic- What am I, five?"

"You certainly act like it sometimes."

"Fëck dech."

"Real mature, Laurent."

"Oh, like asking for the magic word is so mature."

"Absolutely. I haven't heard it yet, by the way. Femke, are you doing alright?" Willem asked, as his sister was now lying on the floor, tears streaming down her face. Gasping for air, she shook no.

"Seems like you'd better let me go before we make Femke choke," Laurent commented. Willem tsk-ed.

"Fine, fine. Fem, get up," he said, letting Laurent out of the headlock and extending a hand towards Femke.

"Give- give me a... minute," she said, still gasping for air. After she managed to get enough air in her lungs and not burst out laughing after she saw her brothers standing in front of her with worried (albeit semi-irritated) looks, she finally took Willem's offered hand.

"You two are utter morons."

Willem gasped. "Are you hearing this, Laurent? Slander, complete and utter slander!"

"Well, she's right about one of us, and it isn't me."

"Laurent, ik tyf je de Noordzee in als je niet ophoudt-"

"Try me, old man-"

"Who're you calling old you little-"

''Oh for- hou uw bakkes! If this becomes another argument, I will smother both of you!''

''You wouldn't dare,'' Willem said. After a beat of silence and a fierce glare from Femke, he added: ''Would you?''

''I don't know, why don't you find out?''

''Fem, you're scaring me a bit here,'' Laurent said nervously. Femke hummed. Laurent looked at Willem, wide-eyed. Willem just looked back and shrugged.

''Could you even reach me though?'' Willem, who apparently had a death wish, asked.

Femke whipped around, glaring at her brother. Willem just glared back.

''Guys, no, no one's getting killed today,'' Laurent interjected. ''This is supposed to be a fun family meeting, remember? If there's any way anyone's going down,'' he added on, a devilish grin on his face as he slowly inched closer to his still glaring siblings, ''It's going to be this way!'' he yelled as he quickly poked Willem in his side, who immediately yelped and tried to get away. To no avail, because Femke quickly latched onto his arm and started poking him in his side too.

''No, Fem, wait- What did I do to deserve this?!''

''Well, uh... you took the last waffle?''

''Are you asking me, or-'' Willem started to ask, then yelped again as his siblings started to tickle him.

''No! Please, mercy!''

''Hmmm, Lau, what do you think? Should we stop?'' Femke asked, looking at her younger brother.

''I don’t know, Fem,'' Laurent answered back, devilish grin still on his face. ''He hasn’t said the magic word yet.''

''Godverdomme, natuurlijk is dat het antwoord. Kut! Laurens, stop!''

''Hmm, let me think. Nee.''

Femke snickered. ''He looks like a worm, wiggling like that.''

''How the fuck-''

''Oh my god you're so right,'' Laurent said. ''Willem the worm,'' he started to say, but burst out laughing halfway through. Femke laid on top of Willem, wheezing. Willem, meanwhile, looked absolutely mortified.

''You two are so immature,'' he said.

''Says the guy currently laying on the floor because he's ticklish.''

''I will strangle you,'' Willem threatened.

''Try me, bit- Hey!'' Laurent started to say, before Willem had reached forward and pulled him besides him.

''You know, this is actually surprisingly comfortable,'' Femke commented after a beat of silence.

''No, you're heavy. Get off me- Lau don't you dare lay on top of Femke or I swear- oof!''

''Hmm? What was that?''

''I'll kill you.''

''Aw, we love you too!''

''... Ugh, fine, if I say it, will you get off?''

''Maybe!''

''You two are gremlins, oh my god. Fine, I love you too.''

''He said it! Lau, he said it!''

''Yeah yeah, we all heard it. Now get off me.''

''I mean... technically I never promised I'd get off-''

''Off. Now. Or I'll never bring you stroopwafels again.''

This earned him a scandalized gasp from both of his siblings.

''You’re so mean! How dare you deprive us of stroopwafels?!''

''You can't do that!''

''You two are impossible. I said off,'' Willem complained, trying to sit up. Which was hard, considering Femke was literally laying on top of him.

''Say the magic word first.''

''Are you serious right now? Femke, we are not five.''

''So?''

''... Fine. Femke, can you please get the fuck off me?''

''Fine, close enough,'' she said as she got off Willem, who immediately took a deep breath.

''Finally, oh sweet air how much I've missed you.''

''You’re so weird. Anyway,'' Femke said, turning towards Laurent. ''You recorded the whole thing, right?''

Laurent laughed and rolled his eyes. ''Like you had to ask.''

Willem gaped at them, before jumping up. ''Godver- Laurent give that camera here, right now!''

''No, I don’t want to. I must say this is great blackmail material.''

''Laurent, als je nu niet die camera hier geeft, dan-''

''Du muss mech als éischt fänken!''

Needless to say, Willem ended up chasing Laurent through the house, Femke following closely behind. In the end, all three of them ended up in a dogpile on the couch, laughing. Yeah, family meetings were fun indeed.

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Translations:

Hoepel een eind op (Dutch) = a nice(ish) way of saying ‘fuck off’ or ‘go away’

Godverdomme (Dutch, Flemish) = goddammit

Nondikass (Luxembourgish) = used as an exclaimation, meaning something like ‘damn’.

Jezus Christus (Dutch) = Jesus Christ

Fëck dech (Luxembourgish) = Screw you

Ik tyf je de Noordzee in als je niet ophoudt (Dutch) = I will throw you into the North Sea if you don't stop. (The word ‘tyf’ is pretty rude though, albeit used by a lot of teens in my experience, so I would not recommend going around actually saying this.)

Hou uw bakkes (Flemish) = shut up

Godverdomme, natuurlijk is dat het antwoord. Kut! (Dutch) = ‘Goddammit, of course that's the answer. Fuck!’ (even though the word 'kut’ doesn’t mean ‘fuck’, it's used as a replacement pretty often. The more accurate translation would be ‘vagina’, as that is literally what it means, but it's used as a curse word more often than not.)

Nee (Dutch, Flemish, Luxembourgish) = No

Laurent, als je nu niet die camera hier geeft, dan- = Laurent, if you don't give me the camera right now, then-

Du muss mech als éischt fänken! (Luxembourgish) = youre gonna have to catch me first!

Stroopwafels are a Dutch delicacy, I love them so much. Basically, they’re waffles with syrup in between. Google them for examples and probably a better explanation.

I am physically incapable of not adding in a sprinkle of NedCan. I'm sorry (but actually not really,, as stated, Willem and Matthew are married so technically Matthew is family- *gets smacked*)

The ending is more crack and longer than I intended because I have no self-control. Sue me.

Moral of the story: don't anger short ppl. They’re angrier cuz they’re closer to hell-

Yes Willem is ticklish, I said what I said.

Bonus scene: ''Wait, so if Willem is a worm, would Matthew be like... a moose?''

''I am begging you two to stop. Laurent, stop laughing!''

#hetafamilyweek2021 #aph benelux #aph netherlands #aph belgium #aph luxembourg #hetalia #hws netherlands #hws belgium #hws luxembourg #aph friesland #aph holland #aph groningen #fanfic #fanfiction #fluff #sibling banter #somerandomdutchfangirl #somerandomdutchartist

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poedameronloverx · 4 years ago

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Close To Home

Life In Lockdown Masterlist

Pairing - Poe Dameron x F! Solo Reader

Warnings - Massive amounts of Covid talk in this chapter as it starts to effect our lovely little squad, so if that upsets you please don’t read, I don’t want anyone to be triggered or upset by this content <3

Month 2 – April 2020

As the weeks went on, you found yourself getting more and more used to remote working. Your boss had made a lunch time finish on a Friday a weekly thing and you were grateful for it. Poe was getting every Friday off, and Rose got to finish at 3pm on a Friday. You and Poe were working round each other better, you’d gotten used to his singing and he got used to you getting up to wander round the room and stretch every hour or so. The novelty of having people around all day had worn off for BeeBee, he would choose to spend an entire day with either Poe or you and lie by your feet for the day. Rose’s idea of doing something each evening had stuck and you had set up a weekly plan of things to do. Movie nights became a Friday night tradition. Rose had ordered relaxation colouring books for each of you and that became your Monday night routine. There was a YouTube marathon on Tuesdays, you’d all found a series to binge together on Wednesdays and you played board games on Thursdays. Poe was teaching you to cook, you could make basic things but he was much better than you were and you’d asked him to help you learn. Rose loved teasing your about how cute you both looked and how domestic it was. Things were still strange but everyone was getting used to it.

Rose and Finn occasionally took walks after work, just the two of them. Poe had just arrived back home with BeeBee. He wandered into the living room and found you sitting on the sofa crying your eyes out. He was by your side in an instant, pulling you into his arms and rubbing your back.

“Sweetheart, what’s wrong?”

“My dad” you sobbed “He has the virus; he’s in the hospital on a ventilator”

“Oh sweetheart, I’m so sorry!” he pulled you tighter “He’ll be fine, I’ve never met a man as strong and stubborn as Han Solo!”

“Mum said he’s really ill, she’s not even allowed to go and see him”

“It’s not fair”

“I just want to go and see mum and hug her”

“I know sweetheart, I know”

Poe held you until you eventually cried yourself to sleep. He pulled you onto him, and grabbed the blanket from the back of the sofa and draped it over you. BeeBee jumped up onto the sofa and lay by your legs. Your body heat and the heat from the blanket lulled Poe to sleep. When Finn and Rose came back a little while later they eyed you suspiciously. The sound of Rose’s keys against the coffee table woke Poe.

“This looks romantic” Finn said

“Far from, I’ve just held her whilst she cried herself to sleep” Poe replied, glaring at his friend

“What’s wrong?” Rose asked

“Han’s got the virus; he’s in hospital on a ventilator”

“Oh my god, when did that happen, is he alright?”

“I don’t really know” Poe shrugged “She was really upset, I only got the basic information from her”

“I’ll phone Leia” Rose replied “To get more information but also to check on her”

Finn nodded “That's a good idea”

“I should text Ben.” Poe said “Then we need to work out what to do here. I don't want to put her to bed before dinner, I know she’s exhausted herself crying but she needs food in her system, as much as she probably won’t want it”

“We can make a start on dinner, wake her when it’s ready and make sure she eats at least a little then she can get some sleep” Finn said

Poe managed to lift you off him enough to move, he laid your head on a pillow and made sure the blanket still covered you. BeeBee got up and moved along the couch so he could snuggle against your stomach. Poe headed to the kitchen and made a start on dinner with Finn’s help. Rose sat on the bottom stair and called Leia. She was on the phone for 10 minutes before joining the guys in the kitchen.

“What did she say?” Finn asked

“He had a few symptoms so they called the doctor yesterday and he was told to go in and get checked out, they didn't want to worry Y/N and Ben so they just kept it between them at that point, the hospital got him tested and obviously he had it so they said he would get kept in overnight but he started to struggle to breathe so they put him on the machine. They don’t know when or if he’ll come back around”

“Oh god” Finn replied

“We just have to take care of her” Rose said “We know how close she is to her parents and not being able to be with them is going to be so hard for her”

“She has us” Poe replied “And we’ll be here for her day and night, no matter what time”

“Absolutely” Rose nodded “I’ll wake her for dinner”

The next week was difficult, you’d asked for some time away from work as you knew you would never be able to concentrate whilst your thoughts were all about your father. He hadn’t been getting better but he also hadn’t gotten any worse, which the doctors said was a really good thing. Poe and Rose had both taken a few days off to make sure someone was with you and helping keep your mind off things. You and Poe were on a walk with BeeBee one afternoon when your phone rang.

“It’s mum” you said to Poe before answering the phone. He gently took hold of your arm and led you over to a wall where you could sit. He could only hear your side of the conversation but the fact you hadn’t burst into tears yet made him feel more positive. “I’ll speak to you later mum, love you. Bye”

“How’s things?”

“Dad came off the ventilator this morning” you replied, happy tears appearing in your eyes “He’s breathing on his own and the doctors are really happy with his progress”

“That’s great news sweetheart. And it’ll be a load off your mind knowing he’s doing okay”

“Yeah, it really is” you replied “Thank you, you’ve helped keep me going this last week or so. I really appreciate it”

“I’m here for you anytime sweetheart” Poe replied

“I appreciate it more than you'll ever know. It's been so scary seeing all the stuff on the news, I guess I just didn't think it would end up so close to home”

Poe held his arms open and you fell into his hug gratefully. Poe gave the best hugs in the entire world. He hugged tightly and it made anyone he hugged feel secure and content.

Easter was very much a non event, the weather wasn't great so you were inside all day. Poe cooked a nice meal for everyone and you sat and watched a lot of TV whilst eating all of the Easter snacks you'd ordered in with the food shop. You were all happy to have a few days off work, Finn had a few weeks off whilst the schools were closed for the spring break. A few days after Easter, your father was released from the hospital. He still wasn't 100% back to his normal self but he was really glad to be back in his own home. You face-timed with him and your mother every day, just to check up on how they were both doing. You knew it wasn't easy on Leia either. She had to take care of Han plus do everything herself at home, whilst trying to work. Finn decided to take up gardening whilst he had free time, he ordered loads of plants and gardening tools online and got to work as soon as they arrived. Your garden had never really been full of plants because you and Rose were always too busy and neither of you were that into gardening. Finn cut down all the bushes, planted loads of flowers and painted the fences. The small fence that separated the patio from the grass was painted a sky blue and all of the surrounding fences were white. Poe helped Finn with the painting, whilst you and Rose cleaned up all the garden furniture. Once you were done, it looked like a whole new garden.

As the month went on, things with everyone's work got quieter. You were no longer working full days, Monday to Wednesday you only worked from 11am until 3pm, Thursday you worked 9am-12pm and Friday was a day off. Rose only had to work Mondays, Wednesdays and Fridays. Poe no longer had to do any work. He was luckily still getting paid but his work just didn't have anything else they could do remotely. They told him to keep checking his work emails just incase anything did come in. It took a while to adjust to all of the free time. Working from home had been strange anyway but only working for part of the time made it even weirder. Finn was still working his normal hours after the school break. Friday became a cooking day. Poe continued to teach you how to make meals, and sometimes the pair of you would bake.

Rose liked to come on walks with BeeBee when she had the spare time, the park was everyone's favourite place to go. It became a lifeline to everyone. The stay at home order still said you were only able to go out once a day for some exercise. You all began to look forward to walk time so you could get to your park. You could walk all the way round it twice before BeeBee got bored. You would always stop at the kiosk and get a coffee or an ice cream, whilst the dog ran after his ball.

“This is his dream” Poe chuckled as he watched Rose throwing the ball “He's getting to spend time with people he loves, he's getting much longer walks than normal and he gets to run after his ball a lot”

You smiled “Animals must be loving this lockdown thing, they get to spend so much time with their humans and don't have to stay home alone all day”

“Bee is loving living with you and Rose. He's always really happy when you guys come to visit us so all of us living together is great for him”

“I'm actually really enjoying it too, I had my reservations at first. Especially when Rose just mentioned Finn moving in. I didn't want to be the third wheel in my own home. And even when she said you were coming too, I wasn't sure we'd all manage to work around each other but thankfully we have and I couldn't be happier to be spending this lockdown with you guys. Especially with how much you helped me when my dad was ill”

“I'm glad we're all together too. It's made things feel so much better knowing that anytime I have a bad day I get to spend it with my best friends. Living with Finn is great but sometimes when him and Rose are all loved up it gets a bit annoying. I mean not that I'm not happy for them because I absolutely am, they're a great couple but yeah”

“No, I totally get that. Being the 3rd wheel isn't easy” you nodded “They're adorable, but sometimes it sucks to be left out so I'm glad we have each other during this lockdown”

“Me too, I think you're the only one that gets what it's like to be 3rd wheel to them” Poe chuckled

The final few days of the month were difficult, Rose fell ill with suspected Covid. She had all of the symptoms but she didn't feel overly ill. Finn moved into the spare room with Poe, he didn't want to get ill whilst he was still so busy with work. You looked after Rose, bringing her food and plenty of fluids to keep her going. You were glad that she didn't have a really bad case of it, but you worried for the rest of you.

So here’s the next part. I hope if you read this far that you enjoyed it and you’re still enjoying the series. Your comments would mean the world to me <3 Have a lovely weekend!

#poe dameron x reader #poe dameron x F!Reader #Poe Dameron x F!Solo Reader #tw covid #tw: covid #tw Covid19 #tw: covid19

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deberiaestarescribiendo · 4 years ago

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Hit me with your best shot

A/N: Hey! I saw the #WritersWednesday challenge on @autumnleaves1991-blog blog and thought it was an amazing opportunity to let the creativity flow and though I just started showing my works on here I guess giving it a chance wouldn't hur anybody and maybe some of you would enjoy this as much as I did writing it. And on that note, I'd like to thank every writer on here because your works have helped me a lot during these weird times; and of course speacilly to you @autumnleaves1991-blog for this and your "You're my best friend" series that made me cry, yearn (so much yearning) and loved every single minute of it, thank you!

Pairing: Javier Peña x Female character ( I decided to leave her very undeterminated as it's narrated on Javi's perspective I decided to use she/her pronouns, but I guess you could read it as a f!reader?)

Summary: Post-season 3, Javi and the character go on a date to Laredo's funfair (You could read this as a small piece on its own or as a part of the series I'm currently writing; if you're interested is on my blog and I haven't posted much since I opened it)

Warning: None (let me know if I should mark something) fluff! maybe some kissing...

Another thing! I've just finished this, so brace yourselves for some mistakes and mispellings, sorry

(I was listening to Kacey Musgraves while writing this, if you want to add more fluff to it)

She’s lovely with that white summer dress, she’s tapping her feet nervously looking around the street waiting for his car to arrive, but Javi is parked on the side of the road chewing a nicorette that has already lost all its taste. He observes how she peeks at her watch. He’s already late and doesn’t know what would make him feel any more terrible: standing her up or going on a date with her like an old creep.

Come on, Peña he urges himself to make a decision, but before he can make up his mind, he hears the door unlocking.

“Hey! I thought something had caught you up” she smiles and any doubts he had had been lifted. Gosh she’s pretty

“Sorry, I’m late I had...” he can make up any excuse and he feels he’s just smiling like an idiot.

“Don’t worry” she seats and adjusts her dress shyly “I see we’re making progress” she motions to his mouth

“Oh, yeah, I’ve been very good.” Javi says proudly and follows the road full of car towards the fair “I haven’t had a smoke in...a month, I think”

“Congrats!” she cheers “You deserve a reward then” she grins

“Sure?” he smirks eying her briefly not losing the sight of the road

“Whatever you want” she nods

“But a cigarette, of course”

“Obvs” she chuckles

“Then I better think for a really good reward, I deserve it”

“Yep”

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She’s talking about the first time she came to the funfair being a child. Javier is listening partially; part of his focus is on everybody around them. It feels like all Laredo is there and they had been stopped a few times already by people that wanted to shake his hand and thank him for his service; and Javi starts to feel like the music is too loud, there’s too many people around them and that he doesn’t want to hear the word “hero” anymore. So he tries really hard to look at her, to concentrate his mind on how she interrupts her speech when she looks directly at him, how she blushes, how the warm breezes moves the baby hairs that frame that beautiful visage, how her lips shine with that chapstick she uses and that he’s dying to taste.

“Anyway we can do any ride but that one” she points at the big one in the middle that spins fast creating a wave of screams and laughter every time it makes a round “Unless you want me to puke all over your pretty plaid shirt”

“You like my shirt?” he smirks

“Yeah” she tucks a lock of her hair behind her ear “You look like a real cowboy” she adds. Her smile is brighter than any of the thousand small lights that illuminate the fair.

“I like your dress” Javier leaves his hand hang languidly close to hers until their skin brushes against each other. When he sees she doesn’t recoil, he grabs her hand locking his fingers with hers.

He can sense her nervousness, but hopes it’s the good kind. The exact same feeling he has at the moment, those soft palpitations that he hasn’t felt in years; the butterflies. Eventually she answers his compliment:

“Thanks, it was just 10$” instantly she looks down at her feet “God! I’m terrible at this”

“At what?” the people look at him and then at her, and then their gaze is fixed on their intertwined hands. Javi knows that the rumors are already spreading and hopes that whatever she’s going to hear about him in the next few days doesn’t ruin this.

“Dates...flirt...this” she points at him and then herself

“I cannot believe that” he counters

“Seriously? hey your dress is pretty; yes it cost me ten dollars” she mimics

“I thought it was cute”

“Cute?” she raises her right eyebrow

“Yes, you’re cute” Javi maintains

“You too” she admits

“Me?”

“Yeah! A pretty cute cowboy in plaid” she laughs

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She makes him forget about this damn town, even Colombia and everything that happens seems a billion years away. If the people around them bother her, she doesn’t say. She doesn’t speak with him like anybody in town after he’s been back. For her it’s just Javi, and this Javi can have fun: he has shared a cotton candy with her, he has done some of the strongest rides even if his back is killing him, he has hold her waist when she jumped and screamed on the Tunnel of Terror and then laughed out loud when they got out.

“Javi!” she calls “We forgot about your reward for your first month without a smoke” she holds his hand and stars running towards the shooting gallery.

“You have five shots to win one of our wonderful set of prices. You just have to hit the little birds once”

The targets come and go up and down on the wheel, the paint on them is chipped, testimony of a long life in these funfairs and many missed shots. She takes one of the guns and closes one of her eyes aiming towards the wooden forms that spin on the wheel.

“Take a look of the plushies, cowboy, I’m gonna win you one” she says cockily

“Yeah, sure” he scoffs

“What? you don’t think I’m capable?” she turns towards him, gun still in her hand

“Wow, first of all, never point to somebody with a gun” Javi grabs the barrel and pushes it downwards “even if it’s not real, and second, open both of your eyes to aim” he explains

“Yes, sir. I forgot you were an agent. I better follow your orders, then” she winks at him and with a deep breath resumes her posture to take her first shot. Failing.

“Shit” she grunts “Have you chosen?” she points to the wall on the right full of stuff toys

“Erm...Does it matter?”

“Absolutely, come on, it motivates me”

The toys are horrendous; surely they’ve been doing their round around every fun fair in Texas for ages.

“Okay, one of the teddy bears” he agrees with a shrug

“No! no! be more specific” she scolds “Do you want the big one? the white one with the red bowtie? the brown with the small farmer hat? Or...Look!” she jumps excitedly “There’s a cowboy one, I’m gonna get you the cowboy” she nods and tries a second time, missing.

Javi mocks her and leans on her shaking in laughter.

“Yeah, really funny. Why don’t you try then?” she passes him the gun. After he has collected himself, he adjusts his posture and aims. Nothing.

She crosses her arms over her chest and observes him with an amused grin.

He doesn’t wait longer until he tries again and misses.

“You only got one left”

“Say goodbye to your teddy bear, cowboy” she whispers in his ear. Her sweet perfume and her voice distract him briefly. For a second he wants to throw the gun away and take her in his arms at last.

Javier shots again

“No luck today, sir, if you want to try again is three dollars”

Javi refuses the man with a gesture; she doesn’t say a thing for a minute, but then snorts and cries in laughter

“You’re lousy shot!” she screams

“You missed too” he defends

“Yeah, two shots, and you three, but who of us is a well trained agent, huh?” she sassed

Javi bites his lip, both hands on his hips; he knows there’s no way to defend his shitty shots.

“I still gained a reward though” he gazes at her

“Yeah, that’s true. What do you want then? I still have a few of dollars on me if you want a sundae or something”

“No, not that” he walks towards her and she instinctively recoils until she’s against the tent of the shooting gallery “I want something sweeter” he places his hands on her waist.

“Wh-hat?”

He bends and holds her at the same time, saving the height difference between them. He just brushes his lips against hers at first until she sighs and comes closer to him standing on her tiptoes. Javi deepens the kiss savoring the fruity chapstick she wears. Her lips are soft and sweet as he has imagined since he met her, her soft moans are music to his ears and he wants to hear more.

“Wow, you’re an incredible kisser, Javi Peña, but a terrible shot” she assures.

#writer wednesday #Javier Peña #Javier Peña FanFic #Narcos #Narcos Netflix #Javier Peña x Female #Javier Pena #pedro pascal #pedro pascal characters #pedro pascal fic #pedro pascal fandom

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