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how-masterful · 2 years ago

Text

Remastered

Dhawan!Master X Reader

Chapter 9: The Power of Three

Summary: The cubes arrived in mystery, and have stayed there for a whole year. You’ve dragged the curious, and slightly jealous, Master into a year of self imposed domesticity. But what happens when those strange cubes finally begin to wake up?

Notes: The first proper remaster of 2023! And yes, hold your shock, another series 7 episode. Would it make you laugh if i said this wasn’t even my favourite series (but is very much up there!) Thank you so much for all the love this series has gotten since it’s started. Our next part is story number 10 (well technically 13 if you count the four parter and the extra new earth- but like the Doctor, we could argue over numbers for days!) I hope you enjoy this part, and as always thank you to @plethora-of-imagines for being my proof reader in times of writing crisis!

It had been 365 days since they’d arrived.

Palm sized black cubes, mathematically perfect to even the smallest micrometre, each exactly identical to one another, devoid of any and all differing imperfections. Black cubes that had rolled off the intergalactic production line, before dropping out of the sky as the sun rose over the horizon. A quick glance at your mobile news feed had brought you back to Earth to investigate, the Master arguing it was purely for jealous satisfaction- if somebody else was trying to invade your planet, he wanted to know. You also considered his desire to stay put for the first week to see if the Doctor would make an appearance, sticking her blonde head out of the TARDIS door and solving the problem as easy as mowing the lawn.

But the Doctor never showed, the familiar wheeze of the blue box never drifting through the breeze. Instead, UNIT had taken a chance upon the next best thing- and now Kate Stewart had a tracking proof, bug proof, anything proof burner phone loaded with her number and given to the Master, one also kept for herself. A deal that would most definitely be under review, pending the results of the cubes.

If there was anything the Master excelled at, beyond flamboyant universal conquest and being the last great appreciator of disco, it was playing the long game. Years of establishing himself as anything from professors to prime ministers, building an entire afterlife to waiting out nearly eighty years jail hopping, had trained the Timelord to gain a strangely enviable level of patience: the application of said patience always depending on rather the less enviable, more volatile nature of his mood swings.

If you were to simplify things, the Doctor was a hyperactive puppy: needing constant mental enrichment, her conversations a tangle of tangents and unfollowable trails of thought. But the Master was the most seasoned of spoiled house cats: able to lounge and preen in bouts of attention, concocting his own games to keep himself dangerously occupied. If silence from the doctor was a moment of peace, silence from the Master was inspiration for suspicion.

Luckily for you, you were privy to the times where the Master could be nothing of the sort.

His hearts pounded softly within his warm skin, your naked form pressed against his bare chest, bodies glistening with a thin sheen of sweat as you lay in a satisfied pile upon the sofa. The Master's hands were idly trailing down your spine, fingers drawing the ghosts of shapes, a warm brown fur blanket covering your lower halves- a feeble attempt at some sort of privacy from the room. Your eyelids were almost heavy, hair sprawling behind as the tv continued to play the long abandoned reality shows. The cubes were their own celebrities now, a year after they’d dropped out of the sky. Tv documentaries, dramas, crafting shows, soap operas. Hollywood was even trying to cash in.

The evening had started with yourself and the Master watching (or in his case, hate watching) the Apprentice, the pair of you smirking at the fact Lord Sugar probably had no clue he’d be still hosting the show with his consciousness in a droid in the future. But the Masters wandering hands had ensured you’d missed quite a lot of the episode.

“There's no way they’ll end up profiting.” The Master said softly, fingers still delicately caressing.

You hummed in agreement, pressing a small peck to his collar.

“I’ve got no clue who's the project manager.”

“Pink shirt, she’s a little bossy but willing to cooperate. Blue shirt overspent on the catering, he’s not going to stand a chance in the boardroom.”

You chuckled softly, the Master turning his gaze down to stare at you curiously.

“What?”

“You.” You replied, adjusting yourself to meet the Master's eyes.

“You’re laying on my sofa on a random Thursday. We’ve played a game of chess, gone for a walk, and even though we’ve been to the shops we still decided to order a takeaway. You sat here and told me how you almost stopped pizza ever being invented, and now we’re watching the Apprentice after having sex.”

The Master blinked puzzlingly.

“I’m waiting for the funny part.”

You tilted your head, fingertips gently circling over the skin of his chest, drawing shapes around one of his hearts.

“I never thought you’d be so domestic. I like it.”

The Master gaped in disbelief, bordering on wild offence. You giggled once more as the Timelord narrowed his eyes in disgust.

“How dare you use that word. I’d rather you call me a bastard.”

“I did say I liked it, though! It’s been so long since I've spent time on Earth like this, so mundane. It’s a nice change of pace, not worrying about being on the wrong end of a death ray.”

He shifted beneath you, pulling an arm behind his head and reclining back upon it. You moved along with his adjusted position, resting upon your elbow, your hair falling loosely behind.

“It’s also slightly comical to see the man I've seen blow up entire planets do the weekly shop.”

“You forget I've spent my fair share of days on Earth, love.” The Master bit back, the ugly chill of his exile breezing across the back of his neck.

“I’m not a stranger to the domestic, just highly opposed to it.”

“It’s nice, though. What we’ve been doing. You have to admit, it’s hardly been torture.”

You began to walk your fingers teasingly over the Masters collar, fingertips ghosting over the veins in his throat, creeping towards his jaw.

“You can’t say you haven’t been treated right.”

The Master hummed out a devious chuckle, slowly bucking his hips beneath you, urging your body to inch closer to his own.

“Mmm, that is true. My lovely wife has indeed helped to keep the bed nice and warm. And this sofa. And the bath. And the dining table, if I remember rightly.”

You playfully shushed him, placing a finger upon his lips. Your touch soon morphed to cradle his cheek, thumb brushing over the bone. The Timelord didn’t protest a single movement.

“The nicest part of it is having you here with me. Being able to share this part of myself with you.”

A small smile curved upon the Master's lips, his brown eyes softening somewhat.

“Well love, you’ve hardly been selfish with the other parts of yourself.”

“You’re a goddamn sex fiend.”

You teased, leaning down and stealing a small peck from the Timelords lips.

“Takes two to tango.”

He leant up to deepen your connection, warm hands snaking around your back and attempting to pull your body closer to his own. You knew if you indulged you wouldn’t be able to move, locked in an endless spiral of delicious ecstasy, one you would never dream of attempting to free yourself from. But you were also beginning to feel the chill of sweat settle across your skin, the layer of dew making the encounter feel slightly less romantic than it should have.

“No, Master, stop it-”

You warned, pulling the Timelords hands from your waist and clutching them within your own. The Master grinned, leaning back against the sofa and giving a carefree shrug, relinquishing control of his arms to your touch.

“I’m going to run a bath.”

The Master's eyebrow raised as you pulled yourself free from his clutches, sliding from under the blanket and laying it back over the Master's bottom half. You plucked his shirt from the pile of clothes decorating the floor, throwing it over your head and doing up the buttons, ignoring the way the Master dramatically pouted at the loss of your fully naked body. You made your way out of the lounge and onto the stairs, out of sight of the Timelord. It wasn’t like he hadn’t already committed every part of you to memory.

“I’m going to use that new body wash I got today.”

You said innocently, calling over your shoulder as you headed up the stairs.

“I may need a second opinion on it!”

The Master chuckled to himself, before settling down to stare up at the ceiling, a large breath escaping his lungs. He pondered to himself, alone with his thoughts, the Apprentice successfully ignored. He mulled over your words, turning them over in his head. Tasting them, taking in their scent, seeing if he liked the sensation of them. You said he was being domestic… one step up from being domesticated. You also said you liked it. But you also didn’t say you liked it more, he reasoned. You hadn’t indicated a preference for any of his states of being. Which made his analysis of your words feel even stranger.

Did you prefer him like this? The normal husband, rather than the spaceman that took you away? Would you mourn the loss of this when he inevitably found out who was trying to invade the planet he’d already called dibs on? Or, a more terrifying prospect, would this invasion ever end?

The Master's face fell. He hadn’t ever considered the idea of not knowing. In the many, many endings he’d planned for the scenario, not one of them had included never finding out the reason why. Of course, knowing his luck, the moment you both left earth the cubes would detonate and pulverise the planet, and you would never let him live it down. But that would also mean he kept you away from harm.

The Timelord scowled, furrowing his brow. He didn’t like the amount of questions his brains were presenting. He never liked thinking about a plan with this much detail. Especially when it wasn’t his. A tiny part of him scolded himself for taking a companion and letting himself have something else to look after beside himself. But the other parts of him proceeded to beat that thought into the ground, squashing it beneath their metaphorical shoes.

He turned towards the coffee table, the Tv having swapped to some random drama about a historical figure, and stared at the small black cube. It sat next to the empty pizza box and the unlit candle, right beside the abandoned TV remote and the Masters new favourite glasses.

He reached over and plucked the pair of spectacles from the table, grasping hold of the cube in his other hand as he placed the glasses on his face. He inspected the cube with a newfound disgruntlement, spinning the mathematically perfect creation in his hands. Why did these stupid little cubes arrive? Who sent them? And why were they still here, if not to give him an extreme internal crisis?

“What are you?” He muttered to himself, squinting his eyes to scrutinise the box.

“What are you doing?”

The Master scrunched his nose in disapproval, his narrow eyes now a full blown glare.

“You’ve survived fire, ice, gravity, atomic radiation, and even tissue compression. Do something.” He urged, hands now clutching the box tighter.

“Do something, you annoying thing. Go on. Or are you just a waste of my time?”

The Master paused, watching the cube intently. He waited, internally goading the small black box to do something. But it did nothing, sitting in his grasp as it had done for the last year. With a grunt, the Master flung the box across the room, letting it tumble to the floor and crash into the carpet.

He stared at the box for a brief moment, his anger rising exponentially when suddenly, the cube opened.

Upstairs you were in the bathroom, the door having opened with a small squeak. You headed over towards the bag of toiletries you’d bought, unpacking the items onto the side. You couldn’t help but wonder if the Master had been slightly put off by your words earlier. He was a sarcastic bitch at the best of times, an eye roll never too far behind. But you worried he’d taken your words to hearts. You’d poured your soul out to him with the best intentions. Well, it was more like you’d filled a coffee mug rather than refilling the Pacific, however the point still stood.

You did enjoy your time of domestic bliss, free from trouble and danger and peril. You enjoyed the domesticity of the TARDIS too. Reading in the library, swimming in the pool, picking disguises from the wardrobe and playing bedroom roulette. Baking cakes with ingredients that if baked wrong would set your hair on fire, ordering things from Kerblam and trying to hide the packages from the Master, knowing full well they’d show up in the order history and on the transactions of his intergalactic black card. It was domestic, but it was a new kind. One where instead of him sharing his world with you, you were sharing yours with him.

A small pulsating sound pulled you from your introspection, the famed body wash being placed upon the side. You turned over your shoulder, hoping it was merely the humming of the pipes. Instead it was the small cube in the corner, which had effectively become a candle stand. You plucked the small candle from the top of the cube, abandoning the jar to the side of the bath as you stared at the cube in awe. The small box had begun to shimmer a deep blue, glowing and spiralling in what you presumed to be an alien text. You leant down, bringing the cube to eye level, staring curiously at the small box.

You played through every possibility- was it about to explode? Hatch? Was this a message from whoever sent the thing? Was it… alive?

The sprawling blue swirls disappeared as soon as they arrived. You stretched out a hand to grasp hold of the box, hand clamping down on the top of the square, when a painful sensation shot through your hand. You pulled away with a wince, cradling your wrist and inspecting the damage- A small square of needle pricks sat in the palm of your hand, tiny droplets of blood pooling at the mouths of the wounds. Your fears of alien tetanus were distracted by a steady beeping noise emanating from the cube.

You looked up, eyes widening. The cube was showing your pulse.

The Master scurried over from his place on the couch, ignoring how the loss of the blanket left him rather exposed. He crouched down onto the floor, staring down at the awakening cube with widened eyes. The far side of the cube had opened, the panel sliding upwards, and a large beam of blue light spurted from the other side. The Master attempted to outrun the cube, darting to the other side to face it, but the cube was much faster. Before the Master could peer inside the cube had snapped its open side shut, taunting the Timelord by opening the panel on the other side instead. The Master growled, circling the cube once more, but the cube continued its game. After three more attempts the Master grasped hold of the cube, determined to see inside. The small black box was instantly searing hot in his hands, like it had been sat on a grill. The Master winced and threw the box into the air, proceeding to throw and catch the cube through various levels of pain.

He ran through the door that linked the lounge to the kitchen, small welts appearing on his palms as he nakedly juggled the cube, wincing and swearing like a sailor as he went. The washing up bowl was still in the sink, the water ice cold, having been forgotten about from breakfast. The Timelord threw the sizzling cube into the bowl, the water bubbling and boiling like a cauldron. The cube refused to relent, steam and bubbles errupting to the surface. Saying a silent prayer, the Master turned on the cold tap, the bowl spilling over and into the wider basin of the sink. He hoped that would be enough to stop it burning its way through the centre of the Earth.

“Master!” You called urgently from the top of the stairs.

The Timelord turned over his shoulder, before glancing down at himself, visible debate upon his features. While he was sure you wouldn’t mind, he also considered that being fully naked beyond a pair of tortoise shell glasses wasn’t the most polite state of dress to be in when running up such a high water bill. He also hoped the neighbours were also distracted with their own cubes, and not nosy enough to see his antics through the floor to ceiling glass door to the garden. Purely for your sake, that was. Nudity had never been a thing of shame for his current face. He had been Rasputin, after all.

“Master!”

You called again, racing down the stairs, still only wearing his shirt. The Master sped into the living room, eyes scanning over the piles of clothes. His trousers, or underwear for that matter, were nowhere to be seen. Where the hell did you throw them?

“Fuck!”

He hissed to himself, before grasping the blanket from the sofa and tying it around his waist like a towel. He ran into the hallway, the blanket already threatening to slide down his legs. You ended up meeting in the middle, your arms leaning on the bannister and you looked down at your husband.

“The cube in the bathroom just spiked my palm and showed my pulse!” You yelled, the Master grasping hold of the blanket and glancing back to the lounge.

“The one on the coffee table kept opening its sides and then got boiling hot- also, where the hell did you throw my trousers?”

You looked down at the Master and gave a snorting laugh, when a loud bang came from the downstairs bathroom. It was a metallic zap, the sound colliding with metal. You both looked at the door, then each other, then back at the door as the sound grew louder and louder. The Master was about to step forwards, likely in an effort to be the brave one and open the bathroom door, but the cube beat him to it.

The door swung open, the metal lock now burnt and smoking, and a cube came floating outwards, hovering menacingly in the air. You blinked in shock, your lips parting to ask what it was doing, when the front side slid open and a small laser sat within. The metal laser looked you both up and down, and you looked at the Master in confusion. But the Master was preoccupied with ducking from the blue laser bolt that had been shot directly at his head, which instead proceeded to shatter the vase of flowers on the side.

“Up!”

The Master cried, but you were already halfway up the stairs. With one hand covering his face and the other clutching at the blanket the Master stormed up the stairs, swiftly catching up with your speed and almost sprinting into the bedroom. The pair of you pressed your backs against the door, your fingers frantically trying to twist the knob shut. The floating cube was sending an assault in your direction, firing randomly and rapidly in every direction it could. Holes were punctured in the walls, pictures were shot down, the carpet singed. Now you anticipated that the cube would try to shoot you both dead. You knew if you took a death ray to the head, the ending would be quite swift. If the Master took the hit, you’d have to pray the wardrobe was fireproof. Either way, through fire or fury, you’d never get the deposit back.

You shut your eyes as you focussed on keeping the door pressed shut, the Master joining your mission as you felt the door continuously jolt forwards. The hits were heavy, but never enough to send the door free of its latch. It continued its firing for an endless two minutes, but those minutes felt like a day. It took the Master's hesitant prying of your body from the back of the door for you to realise the firing had stopped.

“Is it-”

The Master pressed a finger from his free hand to his lips, gesturing to the door with a tilt of his head. You swallowed, nodding in agreement as he ever so gently began to open the bedroom door. You spotted the TCE in his grasp, fingers clutching it like a phone- likely an instinct to carry it, you hadn’t even felt him leave the door to fish it from his jacket pocket on the chair. The Master wordlessly stepped out into the hallway, and you braced for the chaos. Maybe the cube was smart enough to plan a sneak attack. Growing the courage to poke your head around the door, you saw the Master was creeping down the staircase with slow, deliberate strides. You took the deepest of breaths as you carefully followed, watching as he peered through the bannister to watch the cube. He tilted his head like a curious animal, beckoning you with his head again, all while keeping his gaze on the lounge. You scuttled over to meet his side, careful not to squeak any troublesome floorboards.

“What’s it doing?”

You whispered, watching as the cube hovered in front of the tv. It was scanning it, cycling through endless images and scrolling through Wikipedia pages at lightning speed. You saw the history of the world pass over the screen, images of bombs and tanks mashed in with pictures of animals, machines and athletes.

“I’d say it’s doing its homework.” The Master whispered back.

“On what? Weaponry? Politics? Evolution?”

“Everything. Maybe it’s building up its information banks to… um… honestly I’ve not got a clue what it's doing now.”

The Master trailed off, confusion creeping across his features. The cube had stopped scrolling through Wikipedia, and was now on social media. Pictures of dogs in hats, a Youtube video on making bread, an Instagram model's trip to Paris. The cube was making its way rapid fire through every single social network site around. It had even posted a blank tweet.

The sound of a phone pinging upstairs stole your attention, the pair of you wincing as you anticipated the cube turning to face you both. You held your breath, awaiting the death ray, but it never came. The cube was too busy playing a game of Solitaire to notice. Sparing a glance to the Master, you cleared your throat.

“HEY!”

You called. The cube didn’t flinch. It was still hovering in the air, playing the game as fast as it could.

“C’mon.”

The Master had begun to trudge back upstairs, heading towards the bedroom and disappearing through the door. The cube had now begun online shopping, scrolling through hundreds of pairs of shoes and handbags, and was searching for a discount code. Your earlier fear had been replaced with pure confusion. Why had it suddenly ditched its efforts to kill you… to scroll the internet like a person?

By the time you’d finally made it upstairs, the Master was sitting on the bed and fishing a phone out of his jacket pocket. You recognised the device immediately as it fell into his lap.

“That's the UNIT phone, isn’t it?”

The Master nodded in reply. He looked at the notification and smirked, before extending out his arm for you to read it.

“I think we’ll be needing a quick shower rather than a relaxing bath, love.”

The Timelord said as you peered forward to read the message.

“Come to the Tower of London ASAP. Matter of Urgency. Kate.”

While your arrival at the tower had been expected, what you found within was not. The cubes had been active for approximately 47 minutes before shutting down, UNIT having had almost 300 under constant monitor. One caused mood swings, another blew fire, and one played a constant, ear splitting rendition of ‘Agadoo’ on repeat. You joked that the poor soul sitting in that box with the cube was due some serious workplace compensation.

You could tell the Master was restless, the situation poking at him in a way that set his teeth on edge. Standing in that room, endless questions being shot at him, suspicious eyes of every worker who’d read his extensive, extensive case file. The file that, according to Kate, was more like a filing cabinet. And that was just from the seventies. He couldn’t work with all those hands on deck, he needed the air to think. So, you’d dragged him to a wall overlooking the Thames. Give him space to breathe, you considered. To calm himself down and think.

“Earth is such a shithole.” He muttered to himself, staring at the vast body of water.

“Your politicians are corrupt, your capitalist societies are draining you dry, you have no idea how to be nice to each other anymore.”

“Is shithole Gallifreyan for ‘alien renegades dream?’” You asked with a small smile.

The Master shook his head.

“A renegades dream is a planet worth concurring. I spent seven quid on a coffee on Monday. There's no saving this place.”

You laughed softly, swinging your legs lightly on top of the wall.

“Years ago I'd have asked what else there was, where on Earth doesn’t function this way. But now? After being with you?... I’m inclined to agree. I’ve seen so much out there… whole different ways of running things, whole different societies. I’ve lived in your world and now everything seems so… different. It’s comforting, I know it’s mine, it’s where I came from. But I’ve seen the end of the universe, Master-” You said, taking hold of the Timelords hand.

“And now everything seems slightly-”

“Strange?”

You nodded in agreement, leaning into his shoulder. The Master stared down at the water, watching the waves lap against each other, crashing softly into the concrete wall.

“You said you enjoyed seeing me here.” The Master said rather bluntly.

“That you enjoyed seeing me so… domestic.”

“I knew that word would bite me in the ass.” You hummed out a laugh, turning your head to face the Master.

“I didn’t mean to insult you. I also didn’t want you to think I wanted to change you. You told me about Missy, how the Doctor wanted a different you. But I didn’t mean that I liked you changed, I meant-”

“I know what you meant.”

You gaped at the Master, who was now making his way towards the same smile you’d worn earlier. It was slightly painful, as if he was fighting against his own body to get out the words. As if years of hardened instinct were being chiselled at, piece by piece.

“Could you… maybe tell me what you think I meant?”

“You meant that we had very, very different lives. And while we’ve spent our time together perhaps I overlooked the fact that you’re human. I took you away from earth and let you in. But this year-”

“I brought you to Earth and did the same.” You said, filling in the gap. The Master nodded, your hand slowly creeping to make your way into his.

“I don’t want you to think I've forgotten who you are, Master. That I don’t appreciate the fact that you’re literally a whole different species to me. Maybe that's why I like it so much, seeing you living in a house and doing human things. Because I know you’re an alien, a mass murdering criminal one, but you’re putting in that effort for me.”

The Master raised an eyebrow in warning.

“You’re making me sound far too nice.” He bit.

“Master,” You chided, squeezing his hand.

“What do you want me to say? You’re only being nice to me because you’re a manipulative bastard who wants to take over the universe? That I only ran away with you because you promised me great sex?”

“Now you’re making me out to be a monster.” He purred. You playfully swatted him on the arm.

“You’re not a monster, you’re a Master. Who picked up his own human stray and looked after it better than the Doctor ever could.”

The Master couldn’t help the smirk that crossed over his face. It was quite the unspoken truth amongst him and his old friend. One the Master would now hold as eternal bragging rights until the end of time.

“And now I'm working with UNIT. If the old me could see me now-”

“Maybe when we solve the invasion we can work on your acceptance of character growth.” You suggested. The Master sighed.

“I should’ve told Kate to gather all those cubes and destroy them. Lock them away. Keep them out of sight.”

“You did the best you could.” You argued. “You offered to help, and you’ve constantly been feeding back. And let's be realistic here, would they have listened to you?”

“No.” The Master grumbled. “But the one time I actually try to help, it’s pointless.”

“It’s not pointless-”

“If i’d told them to leave them out, they would’ve thought I was behind them and not trusted a word I said. If I'd told them to get rid of them, they’d’ve thought I’d planned to use them as, I don’t know, bugs or something. Wanting to know where the super secret UNIT storage is.”

“You already know that, though.” You pointed out. “You stuck the address on the fridge.”

“But they would think that anyway. And now, I look like a useless help because now the cubes ARE doing something.”

“You couldn’t have known that-”

“But I should’ve! World domination is my thing, love. This is what I do! God knows I've been trying for centuries. And now these stupid little boxes turn up and all of a sudden they’re breaking into government systems, hacking the Pentagon. I could’ve stopped this. But nobody had the balls to trust me.”

“Kate does.” You suggested, leaning into the Masters side.

“Obviously speaking metaphorically. If she’s anything like her dad, from what you’ve told me, she’ll be able to tell when you’re working with slightly less evil intentions than usual. Like that story you told me about the Axons.”

The Master smiled to himself, staring down at his shoes.

“We still went back to hating each other afterwards. He locked me in a prison and punched me in the face in the death zone.”

“All in one day?”

“No, two separate days. Two separate bodies.”

You wrapped your arm around his back, fully leaning into his side and resting your head on your shoulder.

“Well I'm sure you were doing lots of wonderfully horrible, wickedly cruel and criminally genius things that deserved such twisted justice.” You purred. The Master chuckled, resting his head on top of your own.

“You don’t have to grovel, love.” He said. “I already married you.”

You laughed gently, nestling more comfortably against his side.

“I like seeing how big I can inflate your ego before you know I'm teasing.”

“Obviously, you can’t tell anybody about any of this. I’ll more than happily hypnotise you.” The Master suggested with no malice in his tone. You shook your head, eyes resting shut as you listened to the sounds of the waves.

“You don’t have to hypnotise me, Master. Sooner or later you always get what you want.”

The pair of you sat in a comfortable silence, allowing the sounds of the cityscape to wash over you. You could have sat there forever, cuddled up to the Master and-

“That's it!”

The Master suddenly yelled, pulling his head from your own. You pulled away from his shoulder, staring at the Timelord, eyes riddled with confusion.

“What’s it?”

“They got what they wanted! The cubes got what they were after!”

The Master pressed a firm kiss to the top of your head, grasping at your cheeks and making you splutter in shock.

“C’mon!” He called, already sprinting back to the tower.

By the time you’d caught up with him, the Master was already laying out his plan. You looked around in confusion as you stepped into the base of the tower- The power was completely out.

“Do you have a back up?” You asked, jumping into the conversation.

“We’ve got three.” Kate replied. “Each kept separate and constantly maintained. This shouldn’t be possible.”

“Well, is it the cubes?” You looked towards the Master, who was already typing away madly at the computer. You met the eyes of the guy at the desk, who sent an unsure glance. You hardened your gaze, attempting to send the strongest message possible- the Master, for once, could be 100% trusted.

“Most likely.” The Master called over his shoulder.

“But how does it link with earlier?”

“You set a scan for their activity, while you’ve been gone it's been off the scale. Perhaps they’re… recharging?”

“By that logic it took them 365 days to charge up. Did we see anything to suggest that?”

You asked, following the head of scientific research further into the base.

“No, we would have noticed!” The Master yelled over his shoulder.

“We noted nothing. No spikes, no surges, nothing. Maybe they had the energy already when they landed.”

“Then why take a year to act on power you already had?”

The Master spun around in his chair, eyebrows furrowed as he thought. You could tell your earlier chat was pushing him further than before. He was determined to figure this out… Whatever it was.

“What's that?”

He asked suddenly, pointing towards the closest cube container. You turned around to look at the metal box, peering through the window at the cube. Kate brought her torch up to the window and gasped softly. The cube was glowing once again with the blue energy you’d seen earlier. Only this time, instead of its side emblazoned with alien text, it read a simple number.

The Master pushed himself from the chair, pushing his fingers against the glass as he peered into the box between you. Kate hurried over to the next box, peering in through the glass.

“This one says it too.”

“And this one!” You said, staring into a third box.

“And the one over there. They all say seven.”

“Why would they do that?”

The Master pinched the bridge of his nose and frowned, as if trying to yank the answer from one of his many brains.

“Seven… Wonders of the world?” Kate offered.

“Continents, days of the week, seven seas?”

“Is it the planets? Seven planets have influence over humanity?” You suggested.

The Master's head suddenly shot up, his nose almost pushed against the glass as he stared down at the small black cube.

“Sides of a cube.”

“What?” You said, meeting his side.

“Seven sides of a cube. A cube has seven sides.”

“Is this extratemporal physics again?”

“No, no cubes have seven sides.” The Master said, narrowing his eyes.

“The six you can see… and the inside.”

It was almost as if the cubes had heard his words. The lights in the building suddenly burst back into life, illuminating the UNIT base. In the same moment, the cubes all began to flicker, the blue text upon them shifting and changing.

“It’s a countdown!”

The Master declared, spinning on his heels to face both you and Kate. You stared at the cubes in confusion, a million questions coursing through your mind.

“How long do we have? Minutes?”

“You’ve got until they hit zero, then you’ve got nothing.”

“It can’t be minutes.”

“They’re alien cubes that fell out of the sky, Kate, they can count down in whatever fashion they like.”

The Master met Kate's eyes, his hardened expression knitted together with stone cold severity.

“Whatever they’re going to do won’t be good. Get it out however you can- news, radio, social media, text, amber alert. Hell, I'll give you the password to Archangel, god knows they never changed it.”

Kate stared at the Master wordlessly and the Timelord stared back, his voice laced with deepest sincerity.

“I need you to trust me, Kate, as much as you can bring yourself to. Just get your precious humanity away from those cubes.”

“But why now?” You interjected. “If we’re running on Kate's theory, they already had the ability to do all this stuff. Why did they wait so long?”

The Master's eyes were shifting. He was knitting together a theory in his mind, his brains fizzing with resolve.

“Because they needed time… they needed trust… Harold Saxon!”

You sent the Master a strange look, Kate joining you with a raised eyebrow. The Master smiled, his eyes wide with excitement.

“I’ve done this before! When I was Saxon, I landed eighteen months before election day. I knew people wouldn’t trust me the moment I landed, I needed to slowly convince everybody to vote.”

“But you had the Archangel network, the cubes aren’t hypnotising people.” You replied.

“No, they’re not. But this was politics. I needed to be irresistible, one wrong moment of press could cost everything. But the cubes are just that- cubes. They can’t talk, they don’t move, but they’re clever- they rely on people to naturally convince themselves to trust them. Use that herd mentality, bring them into their lives, their homes, make memes and documentaries and fake twitter accounts, become unsuspiciously mundane. And then, once you’re inside-”

“You reveal who you truly are.” Kate finished. The Master snapped his fingers in her direction.

“Like what you did with MI6 too. Get inside, get trusted, get the information, use it to your advantage. Learn how to attack.”

The Master nodded at your words.

“We took our eyes off the horizon just as things were coming over it.” The Master said, his words echoing something the Doctor had said a long time ago.

“Get that information out as fast as you can.”

The Master said, turning back to Kate.

“Obviously not the stuff about me. But everything else, go go go!”

By the time the word had spread to the news, the cubes had counted down to the number 3. The Master hadn’t stopped staring at the cubes, watching them count down with a dangerously growing fascination. It was as if a year of private musing had built up to full blown fixation. He wanted to know what happened when the taunting little boxes reached zero.

“I’m going in there.”

He decided, stating his decision proudly to both you and Kate.

“What? Why?” You asked, spinning around in your chair.

“What if it, like, explodes?”

“That’s the reason I'm not sending you in.” He smirked. “The magic of me is there’s always another one that comes next.”

“Are you serious?”

“I know it’s not going to explode.”

“How?”

“Because one cube already has!” He said, staring at the map.

“There's roughly 100 billion cubes on earth. And in those 47 minutes every cube did something different. One of those cubes exploded in Japan. So we know it's not going to do that.”

“How can you be so sure?” Kate questioned. The Master smiled darkly, grasping hold of the metal door of the container and yanking it open.

“Because the best showmen never reveal their final trick before the end. Wish me luck, my love!”

The Master sauntered inside the box, slamming the door shut behind him as the number lowered once more.

“We can do this remotely!” Kate called through the glass as the Master sat down on the small stool. He gestured to the glass and to his ears, throwing his hands up in a questioning manor. You sighed and knocked on the glass wall, the Master still pretending to not hear a thing.

“This isn’t the sound proof one! You can still hear us!”

You yelled, and the Master rolled his eyes. He sat comfortably, placing his hands upon the table and staring down at the cube. He waved innocently to you from the inside of the capsule. You stood in wait, anxiously nibbling your bottom lip.

The number counted down once more. You leant forward. So did Kate. So did the Master. The three of you held your breath, waiting in pure anticipation. Your stomach was churning, feeling like it was climbing higher and higher on a roller coaster track, inching towards the precipice with every agonising second.

0The Master smiled in anticipation. You felt your stomach drop as the coaster threw itself down the descending track. The top of the cube smoothly slid open as it had done hours before, only this time it stayed open. The Master leant forward, carefully manoeuvring himself to hover over the open box. He peered inside, Kate standing on her toes to try and see what was inside.

“Well?” You asked hesitantly, eyes flickering between staring at the Master and staring at the cube.

“What's inside?”

The Master inspected every corner of the cube, staring with all the power his gaze could muster. He stared at every side, every inch of the inside of the cube. All the theories that had been wrestling inside his head withered and perished.

“Nothing…” He growled, anger surging inside his chest and sparking through his body

“There's nothing!” The Master snarled, reaching to grasp hold of the cube. He threw the box to the other side of the container, gritting his teeth and storming towards the door.

“Why, why is nothing inside?!”

“Isn’t that a good thing?” You called after the Master, following him towards the desk, his furious gaze devouring every inch of data present.

“Nothing inside means no bombs, aliens, invasive plants. Empty means good, right?”

“Empty means nothing!”

He snapped, investigating the board.

“But it means the general public is safe, right?” Kate clarified, standing behind the man at the desk who was slowly inching away from the furious Master. The Master growled, turning to face Kate with an exasperated expression.

“No! You don’t do this without payoff! Every single movement by those stupid little cubes has been calculated, precise. Them being empty means you sent billions of cubes to earth, made them sit for a year, put on a show and couldn’t carry it out!”

“Master, look at the screen.” Your voice wavered, the Timelord following your finger as you gestured urgently to the screen. The various feeds of CCTV around the world were showing the same exact thing: People in cafes, streets, offices, parks, homes. All of them were collapsing to the ground, clutching their chests, before falling still on the floor.

“Oh my god, they’re dying!” Kate said. The Master's face turned even more perplexed.

“How, how are they dying, why are they dying? Why doesn’t any of this make any sense?!”

“Kate, do we know the cause?”

“I want intel, give me reasons why-”

“Why is this happening?!” The Master groaned loudly, pacing a hole in the floor before the desk.

“The cubes, they show off a bit, they go dormant, they open and suddenly-”

The Timelord felt a venomous punch in the chest, a burning hot wound sizzling him through the inside out. He let out a choked shriek, his body lurching himself backwards and into the wheeled desk chair, the chair rolling back against the floor as he clutched at his chest in a panic. He could feel his arteries seizing, the power in the left of his chest being snatched away with red hot fury.

“Master, what’s wrong?”

You clamoured urgently, the Timelord craning his neck to look at you. He gasped for breath, eyes almost bulging out of his head as he clawed at his chest in pain.

“I don’t, ack, I don’t-” He panted as you rushed over to his side.

The computer began to beep rapidly, the man on the desk frantically ingesting the new readings that were coming in.

“Global reports in a surge in heart failures-”

“ACK!” The Master cried, his voice strangled as he violently scratched at his shirt.

“Oh my god, ah, only one heart!”

Your eyes widened almost comically as the Masters fists began to thump furiously upon his chest, hitting in a fast rhythm of four as he attempted to restart its beating.

“Shit!”

“Only one heart, fuck, only one heart! Not working, ack-”

You grasped hold of the back of his chair, mainly to stop the Masters sporadically kicking legs from sending him dizzy.

“Ok, shit-”

“Only one heart, only one heart!”

“I’ll get you to the hospital!”

“Don’t you fucking dare!”

He shrieked, waving a trembling hand towards the screen.

“Turn me around, show me, turn me around!”

You pushed hard against the back of the chair, sending the Master rolling towards the desk as the screen flashed a violent red with warning signs.

“Show me what the cubes did after they opened!”

“I don’t-”

“Do as he says!” Kate snapped, and the man on the desk instantly began typing. He pulled up every reading they had. Temperature, weight, size, shape-”

“Look at the currents!” The Master cried.

“Sudden spike in electrical field.” The man on the desk said.

“No-” Kate exclaimed. “They stole the power?”

“They’re signal boxes! Steal the electricity, find the closest idiot leaning in and BAM!”

The Master clutched at his chest again, wincing as he recoiled back in his chair.

“They take out what they- ack- can, the human heart. It’s powered by electrical currents, one blast will do it-”

The Master had grabbed hold of the desk man's chest mid rant, his fingers fisting into the material as he yanked at his chest furiously.

“How do you kill a human? Go for the heart- FUCK!”

“They have to have a main hub, a power source, somewhere to report back to-”

Kate asked, her terrified technician frantically trying to peel the Masters fingers from his shirt. You grabbed hold of his wrist and tugged, another searing bolt of pain surging through the Timelords chest. He released his grip and began to smack his fist into his chest once more, his eyes scrunching shut as he let out a pathetically drawn out whine.

“HOW do you humans cope with only one heart,” He groaned, leering at you as you watched worriedly.

“It is PITIFUL!” He spat, small flecks of spit hitting your face. You groaned, rolling your eyes as you wiped the glob from your face.

“Master I don’t care, i’m taking you to the hospital-”

“I’m not going to the fucking hospital!” The Master shouted.

“I think you should.” Kate replied sharply.

“The energy readings are converging there.”

The Master let out another pained whine. You supposed this one came from finally having to do what somebody else wanted.

By the time you’d gotten to the hospital, the Master could barely stand on his own. He was clutching his chest like he had heartburn, rubbing it in circles with his fingers. You followed close behind, Kate and her soldiers in tow. You knew you might not have long left before the Master went down. You had to figure out what was going on.

“How many do we think have been affected?”

You asked as Kate checked her phone furiously.

“Early reports are saying about a third of the population. Anybody with even the closest proximity to the cubes.”

“It could happen again.” The Master groaned, his face cast with a pallor of sickness.

“Who knows, they love the number seven so much, six more could be on the way. You need to tell them how to not die.”

“And you need to find where they came from.”

“I’ll do my bit, you do yours!”

He grunted, before collapsing against the wall.

“Stay in contact, Kate!” You said, patting the side of her arm.

“The world needs you right now. You’ll do great!”

“I’ll do my best.” She replied, before she and a small tribe of soldiers disappeared back through the hospital corridors.

The Master whimpered, clutching at his chest as he tried to push himself free of the wall.

“Ok, how long can you hold on for?” You asked, taking hold of his arm and throwing it across your shoulder. With a heave you pried him free, the Masters weight heavy as you yanked him up the small set of stairs. He groaned loudly, his voice croaked as he struggled for breath.

“Not.. much longer. But I can feel it’s here somewhere… down here!”

What was once a helpful hold had become a headlock, the Masters elbow trapping your neck as he attempted to drag you forwards. You struggled under his clunky leadership, his legs swaying as he staggered like a drunkard through the frantic hallways of the hospital. All around was unfolding chaos, doctors and patients alike collapsed upon beds and chairs, staff running ragged as they tried to hold back the unknown affliction.

“Through, here!”

The Master declared, yanking you around a corner before suddenly flinging himself backwards. He collapsed back against the wall, his face crumpled with agony as he struggled to stand, his eyes scrunched shut as he let out a series of panicked grunts and whines.

“I can’t, love, ack, I can’t-”

“Master-” You pleaded, crouching down by his side.

“I need both hearts, I can’t do this! I can’t!-”

You watched in horror as he sank flat to the floor, his back pressed into the pale blue linoleum as he convulsed in pure agony. You looked around you, trying to ground yourself as best you could. Right now, though he’d never admit it, he needed you. Desperately. A real life or death moment in time. You scanned your surroundings, eyes dashing over every part of the corridor to find something that could possibly save his life. Maybe a spare doctor to help with CPR, maybe adrenaline to restart his heart, or maybe just-

Then, you saw it. Sat atop of an abandoned nurses cart, a bright red bag with two paddles on the side. A defibrillator. If electricity had stopped one of the Masters hearts, maybe electricity could start it again.

“You’re gonna hate me for this!” You declared, dragging the bag from the top of the cart and siding it across the floor.

“But this may do it!”

The Master turned to look at the red bag beside him. If his eyes were wide earlier, now they were practically out of his skull.

“No, oh no no no!” He protested, attempting to shove the bag away. The machine awoke with the twist of a knob, the screen blinking on with a loud beep.

“Don’t you fucking dare, don’t you fucking dare!”

“Stop swearing at me and let me save you!”

You smacked at his hands, the pair of you engaging in a pathetic wrestling match as you fought to rip open his shirt, the Master vehemently protesting your attempts through guttural grunts of pain. He gasped in shock as you exposed his chest to the cold hospital air, his hands flying into the air as you grasped hold of the two live paddles.

“That won’t work, It won’t work on a Timelord! I’m a-”

“Alright, clear!”

Through some miracle, the Master kept his hands out of the way. You pushed the two paddles onto the sides of his chest, hopefully hitting each heart dead on. The cold metal of the paddles made the Master wince, but the electric shock that hit his system made him scream in shock. He made a strange whooping sound as you pulled away, dropping the paddles on the floor in a panic. The Master suddenly sat up at the waist, his torso springing up like a Halloween decoration as he reached out with splayed fingers like Frankenstein's monster. He whooped and hollered as he scrambled to his feet like a new born fawn, legs wobbling as he stared down at his chest in amazement.

“Oh, oh, yes!”

He moaned, the sound making you blush as you stared up at him on your knees. He did a small strange dance, likely waking up his limbs properly, his hand pressing over his heart. He felt the familiar rhythm beneath his touch once again, a cackling laugh escaping his throat.

“And he escapes death once again!”

He declared, grasping hold of your hand and yanking you to your feet.

“With his glorious companion by his side!”

The Master span you around in his grasp, practically tangling your legs together and he leant you down into a forceful dip, your lips crashing together as he pulled you into a ferocious kiss. You were too startled to indulge in the moment, your lips working on instinct as you gasped for breath once parted. His lips now reddened, his heart beating once again, the Master smiled down at you with a maddened, Cheshire cat grin.

“Do that to me again and I'll leave you in the stone age.”

Your eyes rolled dangerously hard as he guided you to stand, kicking the machine to the side of the corridor and flapping his hands above his head.

“No problem Master, happy to help Master, love you too Master.”

You grumbled loudly, the Timelord winking in your direction. You were about to remind him to button up his shirt when he pressed a kiss to his palm, patting it to the top of your head, his touch much gentler than before.

“You know me so well, Love.”

The Master mused, before running into danger half dressed for the second time that day.

#dhawan!master x reader #sacha dhawan #the master #dhawan!master #bbc doctor #bbc #doctor who #reader #reader insert #x reader #fanfic #fanfiction #doctor who fanfic #doctor who fanfiction #the master x reader #master x reader #the power of three #remastered

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twinkleimagines · 3 years ago

Text

*Crazy paparazzi *

A fic where Drew's girlfriend is an actress in OBX and since the first season she starts having a lot of fans for being pretty and cute so during the mtv awards dinner a fan (or paparazzi) tries to mess with her (like lift her dress or touch her) and drew freaks out 🙃 I need more angry Drew

REQUESTED:

warning: ⚠️Language, violence

“You about ready?” Madelyn Cline asked you, as you fixed your hair up in her bathroom.

“Yeah “ you sighed, brushing down any lint on your dress. “gosh I cannot believe this is really happening” You breathed out, the anxiety kicking in.

Season 2 of OBX had just came out and you were finally getting a reward with the rest of the main characters. Like Drew, in the first season you had screen time yes, but you weren’t a main character. In season 2 however you had gotten so much more screen time, and had become considered a ‘main character’ .

The cast had been invited to the MTV awards and had received an award. It had blown your mind, being able to walk on stage with not only your coworkers, but your best friends was just a euphoric moment, and your mind almost couldn’t wrap itself around the thought.

“Girl!” Madelyn burst out, her eyes wide while looking at her screen.

“what?” You questioned, standing yourself next to her.

“You’re trending on Twitter!” she beamed excitedly. You wanted to cry. Within Two weeks, you and your absolute best friend Drew had both gone from under 1 Million to over 2.5m, and now you were trending #1 on twitter! Madelyn was excited to see more people becoming aware of you. Madelyn, Maddie, Chase, Rudy and JD all experienced this last year when season One dropped and now it was yours and Drew’s chance to shine.

“Okay c’mon we can’t be late to our own invitation” She said with a grin. After the award, the OBX cast decided to all go out for dinner to celebrate the award the show had received.

You sat in between Rudy and Drew during the ride. You and Drew, weren’t official, but throughout the filming of season two, you and Drew had gotten a lot of screen time together, and you spent more one on time with him. Throughout that time you had become very close, to the point you had late night calls until one of you fell asleep. It was clear that you both were into each other but you had both agreed to take things extra slow, because if anything were to happen badly between the two of you, it would make it so much harder for the show itself.

The cast questioned your relationship with Drew, only because you both had become more inseparable than Chase and Maddy which really said something. But as for fans and paparazzi, you both did everything you could to keep it on the low.

The drive there was ecstatic . You, both Maddy’s, Drew, Chase, Rudy, and JD all sat in a van together, the ride to the restaurant beyond hyped. It was a surreal feeling .

“You look beautiful” Drew said lowly, leaning over so the conversation stayed between the two of you. You lowered your face, feeling heat rising to your cheeks. You had wore a navy blue needle strapped dress, that tied together in the back, had a slit down the middle between your legs, and flowed out at the bottom around your feet. Your make up artist did wonders on your make up and hair as well.

“You look amazing too Drew” You responded looking up his stocky figure in his black and white tuxedo. He smiled in response before looking away, trying not to give anyone a reason to question the two of you. You looked up to see Chase looking at you with a knowingly grin. He wiggled his eyebrows at you indicating that he was catching on, only for you to giggle in response, looking away with embarrassment.

“Holy shit guys look” JD said grabbing your attention. You looked out the tinted window to see a huge crowd surrounding the doors, cameras already beginning to flash. Your heart began racing.

Despite you being an actor on OBX, you’ve never really dealt with a crowd this size. It wasn’t a surprise though since you were all together at the same time, just received a reward, and you were also trending at the current moment.

“Okay just stay close to eachother” Drew suggested, his eyes roaming the group , eventually landing on yours. His stayed on yours a few seconds longer than the rest before you heard the van door begin to slide open by one of the security guards.

Everything else became a blur. It was so loud between the paparazzi's shouting out questions, fans screaming each of your names in desperation for some type of interaction. It didn’t help that the body guards were practically pushing the group to get inside. You watched as some of the cast members stood on the side, quickly taking photos with some of the fans so you decided you would do it as well.

“Y/n we love you!” one girl screamed out, tears running down her face.

“Baby don’t cry!” You said pouting your bottom lip. She had a group of fans surrounding her trying to talk to you so you had just leaned in, letting them all take photos with you.

“Drew take a picture with us!” One of the girls screamed out. You turned your head to see Drew standing only a few steps away from you. He smiled widely at the group of fans you were at, taking pictures alongside you.

“Y/n youre looking real sexy!” One of the older paparazzi guys yelled out. You began to feel nervous. Something didn’t sit right with that guy so you just ignored him . He started yelling out more innaproriate words, especially emphasizing how big your breasts looked in the dress. He was yelling so loud you knew you couldn’t be the only one hearing him, but you kept your composure, signing away on some peoples phone cases.

“C’mon” Drew instructed, placing his hand on your lower back trying to guide you to the entrance when you felt a hand grab against your thigh. You gasped loudly as the creep pulled against one side of your dress, pulling the slit wide open, exposing you to a whole crowd. The amount of flashing lights shining on you as your black panties became exposed, your bare thighs shining as the guy held up one side of your dress was literally blinding.

“Let us see what you working with!” the guy yelled out, only to be quickly interrupted By drew pushing the guy down, His fist immediately landing across his face seconds later. You were quickly being dragged inside by Chase and a security guard while a crowd surrounded Drew. You couldn’t see through the crowd to see if Drew was okay, and tears immediately began falling from your face.

Chase was holding your face trying to calm you down as Madelyn and JD walked up, trying to help calm you.

“Oh my God what happened?” Madison breathed out as she finally made her way inside, Rudy following shortly after. You were in hysterics, your mind only thinking about one person, Drew.

“Some fucking pervert lifted my dress in front of everybody and Drew went after him and I don’t know if hes okay” You cried out, taking deep breaths as you began hyperventilating.

“Hey Shh its going to be okay Drew is going to be just fine. “ Rudy assured, before wrapping his arms around you.

It was a few minutes before security walked back in with Drew, his left cheek cut some. They quickly pulled the group to the side for a more private conversation considering you were in a high classed Restaurant.

“Oh my God Drew” You stated frantically as he sat down in a chair, a lady wiping the blood off of his cheek.

“Damn what happened to you?” JD asked with a slight grin. Drew chuckled, still out of breath from the excitement he had just recently endured.

“That fucker hit me with his camera” Drew said before looking in your direction. Your eyes were puffy from crying, nothing but pure fear written all over your face. Drew wanted to reassure you that everything was okay but was quickly interrupted by the head security guard barging into the room you were all sat in.

“Drew you cant just go fighting paparazzi like that. You need to let us do our job “ he spat out at Drew. Drew scoffed before shaking his head disappointment.

“Actually maybe if you guys were actually doing your jobs the creep would’ve never stepped in and sexually assault my girl. “ Your eyes widened as you realized the name Drew just gave you.

‘my girl’- it had a nice ring to it. Everyone else kind of glanced at each other to see if anyone had caught it too, Drew so angry at the moment he was oblivious to the fact he had just spilled the secret.

“You guys should’ve put a stop to him the moment he started shouting out those vulgar words to her” the guy stayed quiet, knowing he couldn’t really argue something like that. The room went silent before a chuckle came out of Chases mouth.

“I fucking knew it you sly mother fuckers” He joked, crossing his arms pretending to be angered by you and Drew. The whole group laughed as your cheeks turned cherry red, a wide grin forming on your face as your secret came out.

“What?” Drew asked still clueless to his outburst. You placed your face in your hand before laughing at his dumbgounded look.

“you uh,you said ‘my girl’ “ Drew’s eyes widened realizing he had spilled the secret.

“Shit” was all he could say before he gave you an apologetic look. You shook your head walking towards him.

“It’s okay” You replied before bending down towards him. “Thank you for sticking up for me during that. I honestly had no idea what I was going to do” You replied, the same scarring look appearing on your face once again as you flashbacked to the assault. You were really going to be trending now once those photos got out.

“I’ll never let anyone hurt you” he responded. You bit your bottom lip before placing your lips against his in front of everyone, hearing them cheer in the background.

“Fuck it”He responded realizing your secret was definitely going to be out now.

*******

✨Feedback, like and reblog is always appreciated✨

#drew starkey #obx #drew starkey fanfiction #rafe cameron fanfiction #rafe cameron imagine #drew starkey imagine #obx fiction

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firefly-in-darkness · 3 years ago

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Worst Idea Ever [Part Nine]

Characters → Y/N & Bucky Barnes, Other Marvel Characters.

Series Summary → Wedding Season is brutal as it is but throw in two friends that decide to be each other’s plus ones and a mixed bag of feelings, what’s the worst that could happen?

Part Eight Summary → Time apart can heal wounds, right?

Word Count → 1.9k

Part Warnings → 18+, swearing, angst, hurt.

Beta → @kalesrebellion // all mistakes are my own.

A/N → yes it's been ages since I last posted for this series, yes it's a painful one.

Series List // Marvel List // Masterlist

Previously in Part Eight: He didn’t hesitate. The front door shutting within seconds. Y/N’s heart shattered, and she could no longer hold back the tears.

A few moments passed before Y/N could calm herself and find her phone amongst the sheets and pressing the call button above the text message.

“I made a mistake.” Y/N sobbed, “Dean, I fucked up.”

Bucky was a fool, and he knew it. He had been an absolute dick to Y/N. Not spoken to her in weeks, avoiding every social gathering so he didn’t have to deal with the awkward tension, or the questioning looks from their friends. Not that he hadn’t already had a less than explicit chat with Sam, who berated him for what he did.

It’s not like Y/N had tried to contact him either. She kept her distance just the same and Bucky had felt the judgment pouring from Wanda’s glare across the open-plan office space at Stark Industries. Natasha had shut him down when he not so subtly tried to find out how Y/N was doing, met with stony silence and a shake of her head.

But he couldn’t blame Y/N for his actions, he shouldn’t have walked out on her. Not after the weekend they'd shared with his family. Not after the step they’d taken together and how it led to something outside of friendship. He was hurt to learn about Dean’s prominence in her life, that she hadn’t even told him about how close they’d gotten.

Now, though, he couldn’t hold off on his apology, of righting the wrong he had done. It had gone on for too long and they had this stupid pact, the worst idea ever, to complete. And that is how Bucky found himself at her apartment block, thanking the neighbour that held the door for him.

The apology, that he’d practised all morning, was swirling around his head throughout the elevator journey. Bucky, completely focused on how to start their conversation, hadn’t even realised that he’d walked out and knocked on the door until it opened

And it opened on the person he didn’t want it to be. Dean.

Bucky faltered and his mouth formed a thin line at the sight of the undeniably handsome man in a button-up and slacks. He quickly spotted the matching suit jacket that was hung on the pegs in the hallway.

“Can I help you?” Dean asked with confusion etched on his face.

“Yeah, I’m here to see Y/N.”

“You must be Bucky.”

“James, to people that I don’t know,” Bucky responded, his words rumbled from his chest.

“Well, James, Y/N invited me to Jean’s wedding, and we went to the rehearsal yesterday,” Dean folded his arms, his stocky build filling the door frame as he held the protective stance.

Bucky’s stomach dropped, a numbness taking over his limbs as he took in Dean’s words, his voice smaller than he expected when he eventually responded, “can I at least talk to her?”

He caught a flash of anger across Dean’s face, and maybe a flicker of pity in the man’s eyes while he contemplated Bucky’s request.

“I don’t think that’s a good idea,” Dean shook his head and shut the door.

Bucky’s fingers ran through his locks to calm himself, his body shook with the pain and hurt he’d caused himself. But mostly for how he had treated Y/N. She didn’t deserve this, and he would make it up to her one day. If she’d let him.

Bucky turned on his heel, he couldn’t lose his best friend and he should have thought of that before he gave in to his feelings. Unsure of how to prove his loyalty and care for Y/N, not quite the mastermind that would be able to solve this without a helping hand, he pulled out his cell and made a call.

Jean and Scott were a beautiful couple, full of smiles and love as they jointly cut into the perfectly white three-tiered cake. Cameras flashed and captured their moment. Cheers echoed around the wedding venue when Jean smooshed a piece of cake into Scott’s face.

“Is it wrong of me to have wished that Bucky had turned up?” Y/N looked at her companion.

Dean’s large hand gripped Y/N’s shoulder firmly, “Not at all, you were in love with him.”

Y/N nodded but knew there was no past tense about her feelings for Bucky, but he hadn’t been in contact since that day. Since he had disregarded her feelings, their friendship and it still hurt.

Luckily for Y/N and Dean, there were no romantic feelings between them. It was a one-off moment at Darcy and Ian’s wedding, months ago. Since then, they’ve built a solid friendship, and as much as the pact with Bucky had turned out to be a disaster, she knew it wouldn’t with Dean because there was no blurred line. It was simply platonic.

Dean disappeared once he caught the eye of a bridesmaid, leaving Y/N to sit at the table alone and wallow in her pity party for one until Wade and Vanessa appeared. They had snuck into the wedding reception after being late and slid into the seats either side of Y/N.

“What’s a hot piece like you doing sitting all by herself cradling her wine like a kitten?” Vanessa asked, a smirking pout on her lips as she tucked a strand of Y/N’s hair behind her ear.

“Just not feeling it tonight guys. Nice of you to show up.” You sassed with a wink.

Wade palmed her cheek, turning her attention to the uncharacteristically serious expression, “You would have been late too if you walked in on the solo moves, she was doing in the bedroom.”

Y/N laughed, “Was it the one you showed me the other week?”

Wade’s eyes sparkled with mischief, “Oh, you naughty girls.”

“What’s really wrong?” Vanessa insisted, “Is it Bucky?”

“Oh, he was hot.” Wade chimed in but backed away at the glare he received from his wife.

“I miss him. But he hasn’t reached out and I hate him for it.”

“You had sex? The emotional kind, right?” Wade commented, “What happened cos you seemed legit.”

Y/N scoffed and twisted the wine glass by the stem, “I thought it meant something. And he just shut down. Didn’t give me a second to explain anything and then said, ‘thank you’. Like I was giving him a service.”

“Ouchie mamma,” Wade winced and narrowed his eyes, “Want me to take him out? Nobody upsets our Cookie.”

“Nah, I’d rather him realise how much of a dick he’s been and fester in it,” She noticed the way Vanessa had not said anything and turned towards her, “What are you thinking? You’re awfully quiet.”

The woman beside Y/N shrugged her shoulders, “If you needed to explain something, then maybe you should just call him and do that?”

Y/N knew she should contact him, just as much as he should contact her. Her eyes scanned the room, and even though she felt a little lighter with Wade and Vanessa’s presence, she still didn't want to stay.

“Okay, I’m miserable and not in the partying mood at all so I’m calling it quits,” Y/N announced and slid out of the chair, “Thank you guys, and sorry for being such a Debbie Downer.”

The couple pulled Y/N into a tight hug and simultaneously whispered.

“He won’t even know he’s dead.”

“Call him.”

Y/N hadn’t even pressed play on the true crime documentary before the buzzer sounded. With a huff, she placed the ice cream tub onto the coffee table and headed to the comms unit in the hallway.

Wanda and Natasha’s voices crackled through the receiver and Y/N had no choice but to let them in, they could see the lounge lights were on from the sidewalk. As much as she loved her friends, their surprise visit wasn’t what she wanted right now.

“I just had this feeling you weren’t at the wedding anymore,” Wanda pulled off her denim jacket and settled on the couch.

“More like Ness called you,” Y/N responded.

“Wade actually, he worries about you like a big brother,” Natasha appeared from the kitchen and held up a bottle and glasses, “I just came for the wine.”

Y/N rolled her eyes and joined them on the couch, snuggled into the middle of them, and that’s when the emotions were unleashed. Eyes stung with the tears that had been threatening to fall since she left Jean and Scott’s wedding, and they finally fell. Her cheeks grew hot and damp, her nose blocked. The sobs stopped her from being able to talk properly.

“You don’t have to explain Y/N, we knew this would be hard. For the both of you,” Wanda held her hand and rubbed her thumb along the back of it in soothing circles.

But it didn’t soothe her, it only fuelled the anger, “Both of us? We slept together and he bolted, completely ghosted me. He doesn’t even want to be my friend. And what hurts the most is that I thought he felt the same way, that he lov- whatever, it doesn’t matter now. I don’t want to see him ever again.”

Wanda opened her mouth to say something but instead, she passed the ice cream while Natasha poured their drinks.

Y/N rested her head on Wanda’s shoulder, “Sorry for snapping.”

Wanda hummed and pressed a kiss to the top of her head.

“So, are you going to Tony and Pepper’s wedding vow renewal?” Natasha asked and passed the filled to the brim glasses of wine.

Wanda seethed, “Are you serious Nat?”

Y/N didn’t look at either of them, just continued to stare deeply at the paused screen of the television. Hoping that the fresh tears that were brewing wouldn’t fall. She wished she could stop herself crying so much over Bucky.

“What? She was invited and not as a plus one for Bucky.”

“She’s right,” Y/N responded and sat up, “But I’m not sure if I want to go. I wasn’t exactly the most sociable today and I’m not very fond of seeing all the happy couples, love and marriage on parade right now.”

“Tony loved you at Peter and Gwen’s wedding,” Natasha retaliated, “He would want you to come along regardless. He wouldn’t invite just anyone.”

Y/N groaned and grabbed a cushion to bury her head into it. A muffled comment of embarrassment slipped through the plush material. She didn’t need to be reminded of the orgasm she had in the middle of the rehearsal dinner while Tony and Pepper frantically searched for the remote of the vibrating panties.

“I can be your plus one. Everyone we know is going to be there,” Natasha commented, “Wanda, Victor, Sam and -”

Y/N lifted her head with a sulky face, “- and Bucky.”

Natasha’s face shifted from neutral to stern in a flash, “I don’t want to tell you ‘I told you so’, but I will if you don’t go to the wedding with me.”

“Fine. Can we watch this now please?” Y/N conceded and grabbed the television remote.

Natasha carefully slipped out of the lounge, tiptoeing so not to disturb Y/N and Wanda as they slept on the couch. She pulled the cell from her jacket pocket and quickly typed a message.

She’ll be there. Don’t fuck this up Barnes.

Continue Here...

@aeo10fan@akshi8278 @alwaysclassyeagle @bccky @callmeluna @capsgrl @charmedbysarge @coffeebooksandfandom @courtneychicken @crystalchrysalis19 @eclipses-and-moondust @emmabarnes @foxyjwls007 @gooddaykate @guera31 @idreamofplaid @ihatecats123 @im-squished @impala1967dwinchester @justagirlinafandomworld @justanotherblonde23 @justile @ladydmalfoy @laisbeltrans @leyannrae @maladaptivexxdaydreaming @miraclesoflove @mishkatelwarriorgoddess @natasha-danvers @nekoannie-chan @ohjammers @old-enough-to-know-better73 @queenoftheunderdark @selen-o-phile @starlightcrystalline @starryeyeseunbyul @stoneyggirl2 @stuckonjbbarnes @stuckysavedmylive @suchababie @supraveng @teenagedreams-bucky @thefridgeismybestie @vicmc624 @vintagepigeon @wiccanmetallicrose @writerwrites @Doasyoudesireandlive @princessmisery666 @Rainbowkisses31 @little-diable@identity2212 @ajaviary

#Bucky Barnes x reader #Bucky Barnes x female reader #Bucky Barnes fic #Bucky Barnes AU #Bucky Barnes fanfic #Bucky Barnes fanfiction #Bucky Barnes

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heyiwrotesomethings · 3 years ago

Text

Warmth

Bela Dimitrescu x They/Them Reader

A/N: Yes, I’ve contracted the RE8 fever, and a bit late at that, what about it? Anyway, hope ya’ll like it. I don’t think there is anything that I should have to warn any of you about but let me know if I’m wrong. Word Count: 2,176

Being the fire stoker for the Dimitrescu daughters was simultaneously the best and worst job in the castle. It was the best job in that the daughters saw them as too valuable to kill or maim since they did their job so well. It made the daughters actually quite appreciative of them. Worst because if (Y/n) were to, god forbid, let a fire die in one of the girl’s rooms, their own light would be just as quickly snuffed out for such an error. That appreciation could turn to devastating hate on a dime if they were to slip up.

Winter was the most critical season. (Y/n) was often running room to room stoking the fires of each daughter’s most favorite areas of the castle to keep the most desirable temperatures. Often times they would fall asleep in the halls outside of the most at risk rooms and jerk awake at the slightest drop in temperature. Lady Dimitrescu had caught them dozing off once and scared them terribly when they awoke. Luckily, the Lady simply rolled her eyes and continued on her way, but not before reminding (Y/n) how easily a fire could fizzle out without the proper care and consideration. A warning.

The castle was huge, (Y/n) wished to argue, it wasn’t their fault that the daughters and their favorite rooms were so spread out. They’d like to see the Lady tend to every fire all throughout the harsh Romanian winter and see how long she could go without suffering from exhaustion. Well, on second thought, could the Lady even get tired? (Y/n) shook their head and sighed, rubbing at their bloodshot eyes. Lady Bela’s room was next in the rotation so they made their way to her wing while checking the state of their matchbook. They’d need to visit the kitchens to get a new one soon.

As they neared Lady Bela’s chambers they noted a slight chill which made their blood run cold.

“No, it can’t be...!” They gasped, fully sprinting down the hall now. They somehow remembered decorum despite the frenzy they had worked themself into and knocked upon the door, announcing their presence before stepping in. Their heart dropped to their feet.

The fire had completely died and Lady Bela was shivering in her bed, only her golden eyes could be seen staring at (Y/n) from beneath the covers as they rushed to the fire place with trembling hands.

“I’m so sorry Lady Bela!” They apologized fervently. How could this have happened? They had the timing down to a science! They had gotten too comfortable as Lady Dimitrescu had suggested and now the eldest daughter was sure to kill them for their carelessness. “I’m so sorry, I don’t know how this could have happened! I swear I’ll fix this, you’ll warm up in no time!”

Soon enough, the fire was blazing, the snap of the wood causing (Y/n) to flinch back. They heard the rustling of sheets and saw a black silk nightgown in their left periphery before they scrunched their eyes tightly shut. This was it, they had outgrown their usefulness. They held their breath and waited to be dragged away by Bela’s sickle but the biting pain never came. Instead, they were enveloped in chilled arms and wrapped in a luxurious duvet. An Ice cold nose dug into their neck and made them flinch.

“You will warm me. Move before I allow it and this will be the last fire you tend to.” Bela shivered and chattered against (Y/n)’s neck.

“Y—yes Lady Bela. Of course.” (Y/n) replied, back stiffening as Bela moved curl up in their lap. It was a bit awkward considering she was taller than most, but once settled she seemed pleased enough.

They sat like that for what felt like hours to (Y/n). Enough time to make their legs cramp and back ache. If Bela didn’t let them go soon, they were sure they’d have more than one displeased Dimitrescu sister to worry about. Fortunately, Lady Bela seemed to have grown tired of them and rose from their lap with a sigh before languidly moving back to her bed.

“Move along little human, if you let Cassandra’s fire go out I can’t say she will be as merciful as I.” Bela informed, looking back at (Y/n) over her shoulder with half lidded eyes.

“Yes, of course! Thank you Lady Bela, I swear I’ll never let it happen again!” (Y/n) bowed deeply before running out of the bedroom, shutting the door tight and quick not only to keep the heat in, but to hinder Bela a moment if she decided to change her mind on being merciful. They ran down the hall like a bullet leaves a gun to tend to Cassandra’s fire next, praying it hadn’t met the same early death as Bela’s.

***

It happened again.

It happened again and (Y/n) was absolutely beside themself. They had never been so sloppy in their life and even if Bela wasn’t going to kill them they almost wanted to sickle their own shoulder for their ineptitude.

“Tell me, what did you promise me yesterday little human?” Bela taunted from the bed while (Y/n) frantically stoked the fire to a roaring blaze.

“I— I don’t know what to say Lady Bela, I am disgusted with myself. Truly, I’ve never—“

“Hush now.” Bela glared from the pile of soft covers. If she wasn’t a vampiric bug woman with murderous tendencies, the scene would have been adorable. But (Y/n) knew better than to entertain the thought for long. Then Bela stretched her hand out from beneath her mountain of blankets.

“Come, warm me little human.”

“Whatever you wish, Lady Bela!” (Y/n) nodded, giving the fire one last look as if to say, ‘behave!’ and then they quickly stood beside Bela’s bed. There was no time to be shy when Bela lifted the covers, (Y/n) dove right in and let Bela maneuver them however she wished.

Unlike the day before, this warming position was much more comfortable and so much more dangerous. (Y/n) could feel that they were starting to drift off in the luxurious bed. If they fell asleep here, surely they would not wake again. Well, that might actually be kind. Who wants to be awake for their death anyway?

“I can feel your heart slowing, little human. Perhaps you’d best be on your way before you succumb to sleep and leave another fire to die.” Bela whispered a bit snidely.

“Right!” (Y/n) shot up and fell out of the bed, scrambling to their feet and anxiously smoothing the covers back down, “Thank you again for your mercy, Lady Bela. I’ll do better!”

“See to it that you do.” Bela replied airily as (Y/n) left the room. They failed to notice the small smile curling Bela’s lips as she watched them go.

***

Two weeks. Nine out of the fourteen days Bela’s fire had died before (Y/n) could stoke it. Sometimes, it even happened twice in one day and (Y/n) was dangerously close to a mental break. Bela, miraculously, seemed to have the patience of a saint and had yet to kill (Y/n) for their failures, simply making the fire stoker warm her with their body before sending them away. Despite the circumstances that preceded the impromptu cuddling sessions, (Y/n) couldn’t help but enjoy every moment they held Bela close or visa versa. It was actually really nice. They would have been lying if they said they hadn’t felt an attraction for the eldest daughter growing within them as they became used to life in the castle.

That didn’t mean (Y/n) didn’t feel horrible though. Each failure, every shiver drawn from Bela’s body, hacked at them like an axe and it was only a matter of time before they became the timber for the next fire.

So they set out for today to go differently, they quickly stoked Daniela’s fire and the one in the library, as well as the parlor, before bounding over to Bela’s room to arrive nearly half an hour earlier than usual. They knocked, announcing their presence, before promptly opening the door. They were already halfway across the room when they glanced up, pausing mid step when they saw Lady Bela out of bed standing over the fireplace. She stared back with wide golden eyes, seemingly frozen in time as well if not for the trickle of water pouring from the small bucket in her hands.

The sizzle of the water meeting the hot wood drew (Y/n)’s eyes to the fireplace and they watched slack jawed as smoke billowed and the small fire drowned into nothingness.

“...what?” (Y/n) whispered, their eyes shifting back to Bela who had the decency to look thoroughly embarrassed before fruitlessly hiding the bucket behind her back. The unusually meek display from the eldest Dimitrescu daughter seemed to spark (Y/n) to speak further out of turn, though words did not seem to be coming easily to them as they just continued to say, ‘what’, only getting louder and sounding more confused and utterly flabbergasted with each utterance. Their arms gestured between Bela and the sodden, burnt wood several times before Bela finally groaned and tossed the empty bucket into the nearest corner of her room with a clatter and a dull thud against the carpet.

“That’s enough!” Bela said sternly, causing (Y/n)’s jaw to snap back shut. She stalked over to them and lifted them by their shirt, quickly pushing them back against a wall in such a way that left their feet slightly above the floor as their hands scrambled to hold onto Bela’s.

“You will speak about this to no one!” She hissed, a buzzing sound emitting from her chest.

“My Lady,” (Y/n) wheezed, “I won’t say anything I swear!”

Bela scrutinized them closely before lowering them back down with a shallow nod.

“Good. Now,” she cleared her throat sheepishly before turning back towards her bed, “light the fire.”

(Y/n) didn’t need to be asked twice, scrambling to their knees in front of the fireplace. As they replaced the soggy wood with fresh timber, their mind raced. Why would Lady Bela douse her fire only to demand it be relit? Why would she do such a thing when she was so susceptible to the cold?

Once the fire was blazing once more, they tentatively turned to Bela, watching as she sat on the edge of her bed and stared at her feet. If (Y/n) couldn’t know the motives behind such a play, they were sure to lose their mind. So, they tested their luck and addressed Bela who gave them a warning look.

“Lady Bela, forgive me, but why ever would you douse your fire? Lady Dimitrescu had informed me of how important it is that you and your sisters stay warm when she assigned me this position. And... well, please forgive me if I’m wrong, you seemed to have made a bit of a habit out of it...”

Bela clenched her fists and growled, making (Y/n) jump to their feet.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry!” They said, making a dash to the door only to bump into a wall of Bela’s flies. This had to be it. They should have just kept their mouth shut!

“Stop panicking, little human.” Bela sighed and finished reforming in front of (Y/n). The fire stoker nodded, but their heart still beated ferociously in their chest. Being told to stop panicking by a Dimitrescu was like a great white shark telling a bleeding seal in open water to do the same.

“I’m only going to say this once so listen closely,” Bela averted her eyes for a moment and bit her lip before focusing back in on (Y/n), “you’re beautiful... handsome? Pleasant to look at and very warm and soft, sweet. I can’t very well snuggle up to a fire without being burned so I... stop looking at me like that.”

(Y/n) had a cute little smile on their face that seemed to be growing by the second. Their eyes were bright and alert as they soaked in every word and Bela couldn’t stop the small smirk tugging at her own lips.

“If it’s cuddling you wish for my Lady, you need only ask. I do enjoy the time we’ve been spending together as of late. Well, minus the heart attacks every time I see the fire’s dead.” (Y/n) informed.

“Just please,” they added, “no more fire sabotaging. I hate to see you shiver.”

“Easy enough,” Bela hummed before pulling (Y/n) back to her bed with visible excitement in her eyes, “hurry now, you got here early today so we have extra time!”

Before, Bela had been rather stiff with her demands. It was like (Y/n) was warming a block of ice wary of melting, but now she all but flung herself at (Y/n) with no inhibitions now that her secret was out. She hummed pleasantly and (Y/n) wiggled in her hold while icy fingers trailed beneath their shirt to settle on heated skin. It was shaping up to be a rather eventful winter.

#re8 oneshots #resident evil oneshots #bela dimitrescu #bela dimitrescu x reader #resident evil village oneshots

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vinylhazza · 3 years ago

Text

For Keeps (G.D)

Summary: Jesse knows what she wants and isn’t afraid to say it, or rather demand it. Grayson, who carries respect and dignity like a shield of armor, walks the line of being the vanilla boyfriend he always thought she’d want, or the guy that listens to the devil on his shoulder and embellishes on the fantasies that won’t leave him alone every night. There is a first for everything, a time and place to try something -- or some one new. There is a chance to set the fire in motion. He might just take it.

Word Count: 4.9k

Warning: Strong sexual content, giving head, fingering, spitting, explicit language

There is a first for everything.

The first time you ride a bike, the first time you try your favorite food, the first time you win an award, the first time you hear your favorite song, the first time you talk to the person you’re meant to spend the rest of forever with, the first time you overcome your worst fear, the first time you read your favorite book, the first time you travel to a different country, the first time you have thoughts that should damn you for eternity and for some...there is even a first time for eating pussy.

It’s an embarrassment he’d never wanted anyone to discover let alone put to the test. Sure his friends had their time to talk about their extensive knowledge on female anatomy, but whenever the topic of him and Jesse doing anything outside the box he himself had placed them in, his lips were sealed. For one thing it wasn’t their business, for two he’s not entirely sure what he would say. He knew the time would come. He didn’t view their relationship like a race and he knew Jesse didn’t either. They’d been friends for too long and knew each other too well for him to base their relationship off of sex.

Grayson keeps his eyes glued to his hands holding Jesse’s hips tight -- unsure of what to do now that he’s got her beneath him and wanting him to have his way with her. He knows what he wants, but doubts that he has the courage to pursue it within him. He’d watch her with careful eyes as she peeled off each article of clothing before pulling him close by his belt loop and on to the bed to kiss her rough busy day away. A picnic was nice, but his complete and undivided attention was better. Even if his eyes trailing up and down every part of her body made her nervous.

He’d done plenty of things with his ex before Jesse, but none of those things had involved his lips and tongue anywhere beneath the waist. Not anything like he’s inevitably about to do.

“Cat caught your tongue?” Jesse had snickered minutes ago, a sly smirk lacing up her ruby red lips from so much kissing -- moment’s before he’d gotten them both all hot and bothered. He couldn’t help it when he was with her, his self control falters and he’s drunk off her touch once again, swimming in a pool of despair he can’t control. All he can think about is her. Wanting her. Needing her. Touching every single inch of her velvety skin. Wanting to do things to her. Wanting her to do things to him. Things he would blush at in the future.

Jesse was a woman with desires he’d only dreamed of women having. She was shy at times but the devil danced in her bright eyes. Grayson knew she wanted things she’d never had the guts to say out loud and things she only wanted from him alone. It all made him a fierce kind of nervous, but gave him an electrified thrill. A challenge for him to explore the workings of her body and all the ways he can make her more satisfied than she’s ever been. He didn’t plan on letting her go anytime soon - and if he wanted to do her right, he had to go outside of his comfort zone for her.

Knowing Jesse was more experienced did things to him that he couldn’t begin to hide -- but more than anything it made him jealous of every set of hands that had ever touched her skin before his. It made him reckless and competitive, focused and haughty. He was better than them, he could be better than them.

He could rapture her into a whirlwind of pleasure that would ruin her image of every man except him, wanting no one's mouth but his, daydream of no one’s lips but his own, beg for no one else’s touch, want no one else’s hands but the ones holding her now. It wasn’t about him, this wasn’t about his pleasure for once, it was truly all about her.

Pulling him back into the flames, he’s burning up under her intense stare, waiting for him to do something, do anything. Anything but watch her long enough to find something less than stellar, less than grand, less than exceptional. With her fears unfolding she pulls him down for a kiss of her own, a soft feather of a thing he can feel all the way to his toes. She’d always been good at that, giving him more to miss when she’s away. The way she hugs him close is one of those things.

Grayson fell hard into love—which wasn’t particularly unusual for the hopeless romantic he was, but he always knew Jesse was set apart from the seasonal heartthrobs. He was truly bewitched by her creativity, wanderlust, unapologetic confidence, patience, and beauty.

An enchantress she was, beautiful beyond anything he could ever deserve. Drop dead gorgeous with the personality to match, there wasn’t a head that didn’t turn when she walked into a room, not a man that didn’t fumble over their words at any opportunity to talk to her, not a woman who didn’t want to be her friend. Sure her beauty was undeniable, but her benevolent heart beat it all.

He may never know why Jesse had leaned in to kiss him seven months ago save for three days in a hidden corner in Café Verona -- a quaint treasure he’d always hold dear to his heart. Fairy lights criss-crossed along the ceiling, soft Jazz waltzing with the beat of his heart, emerald green leather bench pressing into his thighs. But he’s glad she did. He’s glad she leaned in to kiss him when he’d been building up the nerve for weeks. So afraid to go there but more afraid of not knowing what would happen if he didn’t. He’s glad she took his chin in between her fingers to hold him still enough to feel her lips press to his securely, a warmth swarming in his chest where the heart shaped hole once was.

If he flipped through the pages of his memory, he would remember a statue-like stillness about him before he sunk into her touch, caging her head in his large careful hands. Feeling the gasp she tried to hide, the smell of grapefruit shampoo and the way her flushed cheeks felt under his stroking thumbs. He would see himself fall into her, around her and through her, off the edge of the rocky cliff and into the dark blissful deep of nothing but her.

He’d be eternally grateful she looked at him with utmost sincerity and whispered with a raw kind of intensity that he’d “driven her mad you see” -- and he’d heard it then, the brittleness of her voice because fear rattles her to the core, and she had been scared out of her mind. A crack that tracked through her careful confession and to the root of him. Jesse was scared of what he meant, what he was in terms of her heart, what he could be if she continued to kiss him the way she was.

In that quiet moment he remembered what made her so deeply rooted in his heart: the laugh that rattled him, the soft smell of peaches and vanilla, the way she never drives without sunglasses because her mom who passed away much too early did the same, the dance she does when she finally eats the first bite of food after damn near breaking the world in half in hanger, the way she punches the roof of her car after making it through a yellow light because her best friend in high school did the same, the way she always turns her spoon upside down when eating ice cream, and the way she always has answers for everything no matter what topic, even the way she laughs entirely too hard at Family Feud.

For that reason alone he waited for the physical parts to come when they may. It was new and exciting sure, and he’d always loved her heart of course, but her body was uncharted territory. He was patient, yes. A gentleman guarding some assumed virtue, even if he knew better than to think she was anything but a seductress. Patient enough to tell her no when she’s had one too many drinks and not enough discipline. They’d been friends before anything else - the best of friends with a foundation of trust. He’s spent years trying to gain that trust and he vowed to keep it.

Of course he could have been that guy on many occasions: possessive, selfish, greedy and crude. He could have played his cards and dealt his dirty hand at the wrong moment and still pulled out ahead. I mean hell, how often do guys get out of the friend-zone? But he wasn’t that guy. No matter the relationship status — they weren’t ready.

They hadn’t been ready to cross that carefully drawn line in the sand, not until now. With the strawberry White Barn candle burning in the corner on the cluttered desk one could expect from a college student and a half full can of Arizona tea on the night stand...her face lit with a mystical kind of magic he’d only ever seen the day she leaned back after their first official kiss.

“Hold my hair.”

Grayson found the words slipping off his tongue easier than they’d come all night. All he’s planned on was a simple date in the park that was tucked away and secluded from all the people that could interrupt, he’d even brought her favorite book and laid back on a soft patch of grass to listen to her melodic voice read to him. He’d planned to come back and share a peck or two while watching a new episode of Daredevil and holding her through the night. She’d had a long day full of texts to him, trying to get him to give her the okay to walk out of her low-paying job and not look back. He never planned on laying her down on his bed and caressing every inch of her skin until he was finally delving into a place he’d never been quite like this.

He was nervous but he could do anything, be anything with her hand in his hair and her kind eyes watching him defile her. He just knew from this moment on he would have a reputation to uphold, as cocky as it sounded. He had to prove he wasn’t as lost as he felt. He felt like a virgin all over again, like he was doing something raw and real and scary. A secret only the wrinkled sheets would remind him of later.

Her touch, her soothing him through something that frightened him has always been a crutch for him to lean on. When he got in a fight with his brother, she was there to comb through his hair and talk him through the proper apology, when he decided to change majors and had a breakdown so crippling he couldn’t breathe she rocked him through it until his breath was even once again, when he wrecked his new car on the way home from a party he never should have been at she was right there to give him a kiss on the cheek and help him call the insurance company and his erratic mother who loved her like a daughter. She led him through the rough parts of life and then some.

He never imagined she would be leading him through something so sensual, but he needed her bringing him back to earth all the same.

Jesse obliged with a grin of her own, feeling him shuffle down to trail a string of kisses across her torso and down to the base of her need and desire. The fireball of want burned in her stomach, turning her rational thoughts brown and charred. He was good at that, making her need him fiercely. She’d never wanted anyone so much, and even if she thinks back to past flings - she’d never been satisfied like she was with Grayson, and they’d done much less.

“What are you thinking?” Jesse wonders, distracted by his soft supple lips and his nibbling at her hip, but wanting to hear the inner workings of his brain. Her fingers fidget, wanting to push him by his brown mop of hair down lower - just to feel him at last. She needed this distraction, she just needed his help to forget. Not that she hadn’t been waiting for months for this exact moment, there was just urgency in the way she’s stripped herself bare before him.

She almost expects him to wait for her direction, but jerks against him when he takes the lead all on his own. How could he not with her as his complete mercy, giving him the fuck me eyes and twisting a lock if hair around her finger?

Grayson thinks on that as he trails his mouth down, down, down to slick his tongue up the base of her, smirking to himself when she wiggles against him. “I’m thinking that I like you this way.”

The contact was a shock to her nervous system and a promise of what was soon to come if she kept tempting him the way she was. She was a heathen with angel eyes. Someone infatuated with his innocence (at least he was more innocent than she) and curiosity to learn every curve and dip of her body. He made her feel powerful, unstoppable, undeniable. She craved it as much as he craved her own lips tracking across his skin - in the heat of the moment or in the still of the night.

“Naked you mean?” She laughs then, trying to keep herself at least somewhat under control now that he’s grown some balls and taken the first step. She’s shocked momentarily that she didn’t have to practically order him into touching her.

She grips her breasts at another bold swipe of his tongue. Rolling her hardened nipples between her fingers and tensing at the sparks flying up her center. The feeling of him spreading her open, blowing against her throbbing clit is almost too much to bear. Jesse curses then, a soft “fuck” she tries to reel back before he gets too big of a head. She knows it fell on eager ears when he delivers another bold stripe of his tongue up her center -- slow and deliberate.

“Unguarded,” he finally grumbles, rubbing away the goosebumps that pepper her thighs. She thinks for a moment that she could gave turned off the ceiling fan circling over top of them, but feared she might burn up if it wasn’t for the white blades blowing on her crown of hair going every which way on the pillow.

She ignores how right he is - that she’s never been this vulnerable with him before, but instead rolls her eyelids shut to feel him really delve into her - opening his mouth and pressing his tongue to her flat. This is just what she needed, her favorite person trying something new and succeeding at it.

For someone that’s never given head, he was pulling it off. He was going to ruin her.

Glancing down at the yellow glow of the lamp illuminating the right side of his face, Jesse curled her fingers into his plush head of hair once again, somewhere between heaven and hell with no real knowledge of the difference.

She moans at his lips wrapping around her, the suction to her lower region and the way his thumbs dig into her skin to hold her in place. No running this time, she had no choice but to feel it all. This is what she wanted right?

“This feel okay?” he teases, tentatively trailing the tip of his tongue around the place she wanted most. He loved to see her eyes alight with that devilish incomprehensible lust. He was truly winging it, doing anything he’d heard from friends or watched himself late at night, anything to further her soft pants and moans tumbling out of her O shaped mouth. She was too good to be true and felt like one lucky bastard.

Nodding down to him she groans, wanting him latched to her. “M-more than okay just keep going.”

He never knew it could feel so pleasurable to be the giver and not the receiver nine times out of ten. He didn’t know how selfish he’d been and the opportunities he'd missed to feel compliant and...obedient. He liked it. He loved it. He loved the position he was in - her looking down at him like the goddess she was and always had been, him crouching down at the end of the bed to devour her in the best way he could, his hair disheveled, eyes dark with hunger, hands gripping her tight.

He lets instinct take the wheel, peppering kisses to her clit and bringing his own hand down to slip in a finger to add extra stimulation - pleased when Jesse releases another string of curses. Fowl language huh? Wonder what she’d do if he stopped-

“You’re such a dick-“ she tugs at his roots, rolling her hips into his mouth that savors her now, lips slick with her wetness. She tasted good, he’d concluded. It wasn’t anything like what he imagined it would be, no, it was better. It felt better than all of the horror stories he’d made up in his head. He’s sure if he wanted to - he could stay right down between her legs for hours -- until his lips were sore and his tongue tired. Stopping wasn’t an option. Not when she’s been waiting so long, fantasized too often. She huffs out again “Thought you’ve never done this before.”

That must be a good sign, right?

“Never,” he slurps at her, shaking his head and groaning into her core. He felt the slickness of her on his cheeks now. Bowing down to eat her out was harder than it looked, especially with back problems as it was.

Focused and drunk on Jesse’s gentle hip thrust into his mouth he hugs her thighs and stands upright, just off the edge of the bed, bringing her lower half up in the air with him. He can feel her trembling now, wide eyes gleaming at him with surprise and delight at the new and better position.

She was losing it. She’d had him compliant at first, her soft-hearted boyfriend trying something new...but damn he was tugging the ropes from between her fingers and leading her to a path less traveled. Quick learner he was.

“Grayson put me down! Have you lost your mind?” Jesse squealed, grinning at his closed eyes and moving lips, deaf to her antics. She was expected something quick, maybe even simple, but him switching up positions was not in the game plan as great as it was.

She could see it now, the guy that was always hiding just beneath the surface. She could see how her sounds urged him on and made him try harder. She could see his arms shaking from the weight of her legs and the effort it took to hold her pussy as close to him as he could. She could feel the heavy breath fanning out across her pelvis from his nose. She could feel the tickle of his hair dangling down and whispering across the skin of her stomach. She could feel that same ball of fire seated in her stomach slip lower and lower with each passing second - until the words that fell out of her mouth were nothing but strings of profanity would make a sinner blush.

It was going to sear her in half, that fucking ball of fire. Hot lava stirring up a flood she couldn’t stop. It was splitting her in half just as his digits were now, pumping into her hard and fast, curling at his knuckles. His rings gleam from the yellow lamp-light and shock her when they touch her dewy skin. She had lost all sense of control.

Hearing his own moans, hearing how desperate he was to keep eating her pussy and make her feel better than anyone had, got her inching towards the edge. It was a low kind of growl itching at his throat.

The taste of her blurred his senses, the soft smell of her making his mind spin out of control, the tightening walls of her cunt around his fingers fucking her fast, the light sheen of sweat that glowed in the dim light of his room - he was a madman with no direction but forward. He had to keep going, for stopping would surely break them both. He would love to tease her, but knew if he stopped one more time she would kill him in a heartbeat.

“Open your fucking eyes and watch me.” He barked down to her, stopping only for a moment to glare at her. His fingers continued their fast paced in and out, in and out, in and out.

He’d figured if he was going to take it all the way, he needed to pull every string. Needed to pull out the nasty daydreams and make them a reality. This is something he would have for keeps. Something he’d want to do over and over, something he couldn’t wait to do again. Something he’d want to remember.

Peeling her eyes open she sobbed at the sight of him spitting into her pussy with a smile, staring at her darkly. Light eyes blacked into pits he ruined her through and through. He had to be lying, he just had to be.

“Fast learner,” Grayson sneers, leaning forward to smear his saliva around her slick folds, arms circling her midsection to hold her close again.

“ Fuckfuckfuckfuck- keep fu- keep going!” Jesse begs, barely holding on to the light threatening to slip away into the fire burning her up. “Doing so good Gray, so fucking good.”

She had discovered soon in the relationship and the minimal sexual acts they’d indulged in that Grayson was a man that adored praise. He wanted someone to tell him how good he was doing, even if he already knew it. He wanted someone to look him in the eyes just as she was doing now and watch him succeed. He wanted complete undivided attention, verbal acknowledgment.

He sucked at her still, sliding his tongue into her quickly then �� remembering someone in a poorly shot amateur porn video did the same to the tatted up blonde he was practically fucking to death, and hoped it would have the same effect on his beautiful princess begging for him to keep going. He kept note while he watched the video, knowing one day he would be standing where he is now relishing in the gold mine that belonged to him. He fucker her with his tongue, humming into her cunt for the added stimulation.

Fuck all she was the end of him. “Pretty pussy all wet for me, yeah? Want to cum? Bet you doubt me huh? Thought I wouldn’t do you right…”

He chucked at the vigorous nodding of her head, the eyes rolling in the back of her head, the hand that leaves his hip to pull at her own hair. Her eyes squeezing shut in panic now that she feels the tip of the iceberg coming up fast.

“Don’t even know how crazy you drive me, how long I’ve wanted to do this to you.”

Hearing him admit it only made her thighs quiver against his strong arms, only made her want more, made her creep dangerously close to the edge she was for once in her life afraid to fall off of. The crash into the sea would be the biggest shock she’s ever had. Jesse tried to focus on her breathing, trading the heaving for squealing when he dipped his tongue in her entrance to give her something to fantasize about. She’d never had someone tongue fuck her, let alone stair into her soul while they did it.

Fuck he was good. Too fucking good.

“Baby you have t-to slow down,” she warns, the big splash terrifying and so close. He was a wicked man for doing just the opposite, spreading her legs wider and shaking his head against her again, eyes squeezed shut like he knew what would happen in only a few seconds.

“Grayson step back,” she tried to warn more firmly, afraid of the unfamiliar feeling of something new about to happen, embarrassed already but too worked up to stop it. “Shit - Grayson step back!”

And there it was, the strongest orgasm she’d ever had and certainly the wettest. Her release soaked the bed beneath, sheets spotted with her arousal and breath stolen from her lungs. She’s not sure when Grayson had dropped her, or whether her convulsing body wiggled out of his grasp during the black out she’d just had. She was spread on the bed in her own mess, her chest flushed, damp hair stuck to her forehead in waves, vision blurred, eyelids drooping in exhaustion, hand somehow in Graysons.

He’s there then. He’s everywhere and nowhere all at once, his hand a ghost on her forehead brushing away those tendrils of hair, his thumb rubbing over her knuckles with tender care, his lips smoothing the furrow of her brows. Grayson is lifting her without a word, caging her legs around his waist, her arms around his neck, and smoothing her head against his chest to feel the weight of her there - just to feel the heat of her consume him.

“Holy fuck,” she breathes, spent.

“I hope it wasn’t too much,” he whispers into her hair, hand smoothing over the locks while rocking her around the room, mind racing with every image of what he’d just done and the feeling of complete bliss flooding his body.

He’s almost worried she fell asleep in his arms until he feels the shaking he can only assume is laughter, before she’s hugging him tighter. “Idiot. I can’t believe you’ve never done that. And I can’t believe I’m this tired. Feel like a rookie.”

“Guess I passed the test then?”

“Flying colors.”

Jesse nuzzles in as far as she can, tucking in her arms against his chest and letting the state of Nirvana wash over her. With a sigh Jesse thinks over the shocking events of her boyfriend being 100% nastier than she’d initially thought — not that she’s complaining.

She barely remembers Grayson running a bath, or setting her in the steaming tub with a kiss, or waiting for him to strip the bed with a giddiness sitting in his chest at all that they’d done, barely remembers him joining her in the tub and catching soap in the calm of his hand to smith the suds over her post-sex body. That’s the only way she would describe herself in the moment, her skin felt sensitive to the touch, sparks still shooting through her with the feeling of his hands on her.

What Jesse does remember is laying with Grayson in a bed freshly made, arm draped over his stomach, head resting against his arm, lips peppering kisses against his chest randomly through-out the night. She remembers the feeling of adoration and understanding. What they’d done was both the most foul thing she’d ever done, but also the most liberating and beautiful experience. To lose yourself in another person in such a way that you’re utterly consumed by them was...foreign to the pair laying together in the still of the night.

Jesse waited until Grayson was softly snoring until she said the only thing she’d never had the guts to tell him in the months they’d been dating. He’d been waiting on it patiently. It was different between friends, but it meant so much more when you don't want to say it to anyone else for the rest of your life. The moment she says it, she can’t ever take it back. Maybe that’s why she chooses the early hours of the morning to lean in and press her lips against his feather soft, blinking back the mist clouding her vision.

“Don’t know if you could tell...but I'm kind of in love with you...so just be patient with me please I’m trying for you.”

Maybe she would get the guts one day to say the words while he’s awake, maybe face to face or with the lights off because she has some kind of comfort in the dark, or maybe it would slip out on accident. In any way that it happens, she hopes he will smile. She hopes that he knows how insanely incandescently happy he makes her each and every day, and how honored she feels that she got to experience another first with him.She hopes he will be comforted that his feelings are 100% reciprocated. She hopes that she gets to see that beautiful smile he wears on special occasions -- the true smile that he doesn't show too often. For now she presses her lips to his once again, smiling softly as the slow ride and fall of his chest, arm holding her close, the ring she won him out of a shitty machine in the corner of a tattoo shop he’d stopped into on a whim secured on a thin chain around his neck, and the fluttering of his eyelashes while he dreamed.

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etherrealoblivion · 4 years ago

Text

Drive Me Insane

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Reader

Summary: Spencer Reid is always getting on your nerves. Tensions rise and one day, he pulls you into the file room and snaps… just not in the way you think….

A/N: Early-Season-Twelve!Spencer. this is full-on HATE SEX fulfilling this request by @safertokiss and this request by @mggswhore. It’s rough and v sexy and angsty. Gif is mine! Enjoy! <3

tags: smut, penetrative sex, hate sex, enemies to lovers, angry sex.

RATING: EXPLICIT

Words: 4,363

MASTERLIST

You fucking hated him! You HATED him!

“REID!” storming out of the elevator, you headed straight for the desk of the asshole who had pulled the worst prank ever. “What the fuck is this?!” you screamed, slamming your coffee cup down on his desk, the beverage slightly spilling onto his work papers.

“Hey!”

“Don’t you fucking ‘hey’ me!” you were trembling with anger, bouncing on the balls of your feet and trying to ignore the people staring around you. “Explain yourself!”

The little cockfuck put on the most innocent expression you’d ever seen him manage.

“I don��t know what you’re talking about,” he said, more to the onlookers than you. “Is there a problem?”

“Did you put him up to this? Did you tell him to write that?”

“Write what?”

Huh. He actually looked genuinely confused. But you weren’t buying it. You knew how evil he could be, always teasing you, correcting you, moving your stuff around, pulling pranks. If it weren’t for his stupid, pouty face, you’d slap the look right off of it. Oh, and you were coworkers but that was honestly more of an afterthought.

When it came to Spencer Reid, there was nothing that could stop you from exacting your revenge. Except maybe Unit Chief Emily Prentiss. Who, conveniently, hadn’t arrived yet.

“Don’t bullshit me, Reid! You fucking told the barista downstairs to give me some phony number! What’s the joke? I call it and it’s a phone sex line? A suicide hotline? What?!”

But Spencer simply stared at the cup, mouth dropped open and staring at the ten neatly written digits gracing the side of your coffee cup, a little heart to the side of them.

Clearing his throat, he finally spoke, “I didn’t… I didn’t do this, Y/N.”

A refute to that was on the tip of your tongue but he suddenly looked at you and you noticed a slight tint to his cheeks that for some reason, had you believing him.

“Wait…. You mean…?”

“Yep.” He stood suddenly, chair flying out from behind him with the force with which he stood. “Looks like you’ve got an admirer. Excuse me,” he grunted, storming off down the hall, leaving you thoroughly perplexed.

“What…. What just happened?”

Tara approached you, placing a light hand on your shoulder.

“You got a dude’s number and thought it was a prank by Reid. Happens to the best of us.”

Well, yeah, that was rather obvious. You were more referring to the fact that he had stormed off once he came to the same realization.

But, as always, before you could think for too long, Garcia sent out a mass text alerting you to a new case. Your contemplation would have to wait for another time.

“Maybe he just didn’t want anyone to see him?”

The team was gathered around a roundtable in the dingy police office of Wamego, Kansas, discussing why the unsub was dumping the bodies so far on the outskirts of town.

“No, that doesn’t make sense,” Reid blurted, gesturing toward a map of the area. “There are more than enough areas to hide a body within the town’s limits. Plus, he dumped in the middle of the day so being seen isn’t his issue, he can hide easily in plain sight. The edge of town somehow connects to his comfort zo…. What?”

He trailed off once he noticed the grumpy look on your face. It wasn’t like you could help it! He was always refuting every little thing you said and constantly interrupting everyone.

“Well, Reid, if he’s so interested in the edge of town, why are all his victims abducted from the town square?”

Spencer stepped closer to you, eyes narrowing and lips turning downward.

“Maybe, Y/N,” he bit back, “he’s not picking these women at random, but targeting those he sees that look so obviously vulnerable. His end goal is to dominate them.”

“Seriously? Alexa Wells was a blue belt in karate and Tala Williams took a regular self-defense class. There was nothing vulnerable about these women at all!”

“If you weren’t so busy fretting over their physical capabilities maybe you would have noticed, they both possess a petite stature, making them more susceptible to attack.”

He was towering over you and staring at you with anger in his eyes. You, too, were having to fight back the urge to scream at him.

“So, what, you’re saying everyone with a small stature is asking to be dominated!”

“Nope, just you.”

He looked more shocked at his words than you did, taking a step back and glancing around the room for a moment before referring back to the map.

“I’m-I’m saying that the-the victims were all-all small—of-of small stature and that’s a-that’s a connection. Excuse me.”

And he bustled out of the room, leaving behind an audience of your coworkers whose gaze fell on you. Uncomfortable with the weight of their eyes on you, you excused yourself as politely as you could despite the anger and confusion rising in your throat. You didn’t return until you managed to compose yourself, and by then, the team had a new lead and Reid’s outburst was forgotten.

But not by you.

If the word ‘hate’ was a face, to you, it’d be Reid’s. To be fair, his face did possess a very… slappable quality. But, of course, you’d never act on that impulse. He never could quite push you to that edge. But, oh god, he got close sometimes.

Jesus. It was nearly 6:00 AM and you’d gotten a text about fifteen minutes ago from Garcia, summoning you in. Now, sitting in the briefing room, your thoughts had begun to wander into very vulnerable territory.

“Y/N?”

His voice grated your ears like sandpaper, the perfect tool to snap you out of your reverie. Why the hell did he have to arrive so goddamn early?

“Yes, Reid?” you replied, putting on the most bored voice you could manage, not even bothering to spare him a glance as he sat down in the seat immediately next to you, shrugging off his shoulder bag.

“Why are you here so early?”

You looked at him, startled by the question. Who the hell was he to ask you that? He came in early all the time and you never bothered him about it.

“None of your business,” you snorted, glancing down at your phone, trying to get back to reading your article. But with Reid in the room, it was hopeless.

“Jeez. Okay. I was just asking a question. You know, when someone is so defensive it actually has a lot to do with their social life. Usually, they aren’t getting enough mental stimulation outside of work and in rare cases, it attributes directly to whether or not they’ve been receiving enough pleasurable intercourse.”

He nodded curtly as he finished, his own gaze dropping to a regular manilla folder, not even taking in your expression of pure shock. He must’ve found your silence startling enough because soon after, he looked up at you, crooking an eyebrow.

“What?” Quickly, his expression shifted to a mix of understanding and his cheeks went red so quickly. “Oh! I wasn’t saying that-that-that you weren’t… that you aren’t… I mean, not that you are… I just mean that….”

“What, you’re saying I’m not getting fucked properly?”

His mouth dropped open just as Rossi and Alvez entered, conversing loudly enough to miss your snarky comment. Clearly, though, they could detect the charged atmosphere in the room.

“Are we interrupting?” Rossi, the bastard, asked coolly, taking a seat as Luke did the same.

“Nope,” you smirked as more of the team entered. “Not at all.”

Although there was a pressing case to focus on, you couldn’t help but glance at Reid a little more often than usual.

“Alvez, Lewis, you two talk to the parents. Reid, Y/L/N, go to the BDSM shop and see what they can tell us about the whip.”

The urge to roll your eyes and groan was almost too great. Being in a car with Reid for too long gave you hives and as you typed the address into your phone, you glared at your phone for displaying the time to get there as a whole half hour. In a car. Alone. With Reid.

Strangely enough, it had been about a week or so since he’d made any snarky comments to you, seemingly preferring to keep his distance. You wondered what being stuck in a car together would be like. Hopefully quiet. Silent, ideally.

You really shouldn’t have raised your expectations.

“So, the whip is actually a pretty common item so if he paid with cash, it’s likely there won’t be much of a trail. If you wanna wait in the car, I understand, I can just run in and get the info.”

Huh?

“Why would I wait in the car?” That might’ve been the first genuine question you’d ever asked him excluding when you’d first met and asked his name. Since then, it had been a whirlwind of sarcasm and rhetoric.

“Y/N, it’s a sex shop,” he said, a slight glance over to you as his fingers tightened on the steering wheel slightly.

“And?”

“Well… I mean, you don’t wanna go in there.”

“Says who? Reid, it’s part of the job. I’m not scared of sex like you are.”

That got him stuttering, huffing and puffing, and trying to backtrack so fast he might as well have thrown the car in reverse. But you had arrived before you knew it, settling into an empty spot right in front of the store.

“I-I’m not s-scared of… of… I’m not scared of that!”

Unbuckling your seatbelt, a surge of confidence rushed through you as you exited the car, quickly quipping, “Oh, I can tell judging by how easy it is for you to talk about. It’s okay, Reid. Not everyone can handle dominating someone. Certainly not someone as submissive as yourself.”

As you entered the shop, you could feel his tension next to you the whole time you questioned the woman at the front desk. But there was something… off about it. It was like he wasn’t nervous being in the shop, he had no issue making eye-contact with the witness, speaking calmly and coolly, and not avoiding looking at the various sex toys scattered about. No, he was nervous about something else. Something you had said?

But it wasn’t like you didn’t tease him ruthlessly and regularly anyway. Had you struck a nerve? What was different?

Maybe he just didn’t like talking about sex stuff with you. It made sense, he hated your guts. Still…. There was something.

Something that didn’t get brought back up again until a week later, when the two of you were sitting at your desks during a lunch break with everyone gathered around, conversing quietly. Then Alvez had to go and stir the pot like the little pot-stirrer he was.

“Well, I’d have killed to see how Reid acts in a sex shop. Hey, Y/L/N, please tell me there were lots of dildos,” he joked, earning a laugh from the majority and a groan from Reid.

“Actually, he was much less freaked out than I expected. I assume it’s because he didn’t know what half the stuff in there was.”

Sparing a glance at Reid, you were startled to find he wasn’t looking away in embarrassment, but staring straight at you, glaring daggers.

The laughter bubbling up inside your throat at the teasing immediately subsided, replaced with a sudden rush of… fear? No, that can’t be right. You weren’t scared of Spencer Reid. The guy was harmless. Right?

“Can I talk to you privately, Y/N?” he hadn’t said it like a question you could say no to, rising from his seat and storming off to the file room.

Resistance was futile, and in this case, unnecessary, because whatever Reid had to say to you in that room, you could easily turn against him. Ricocheting his remarks came so naturally sometimes you didn’t even notice you were doing it.

You entered the filing room, fully expecting to see Reid shuffling papers and mumbling, working up the courage to yell at you.

Which is why you didn’t expect to be shoved up against the door as it slammed shut behind you, Reid pinning his hands on either side of your head, holding your faces inches apart. Your breath left and so did the words you’d been rehearsing on the short walk to the small room. You felt your mouth drop open and your gaze unintentionally fell to his lips. It took you a minute to realize he’d been talking. Desperately trying to play back what he’d said, you felt your earlier anger rise back up in your throat.

“What’s your problem with me? Huh?” he was unrelentingly forcing you to meet his eyes. “Why are you always coming after me for the stuff I say? Jesus, you’d think you’d show me a little compassion sometimes, but nooooo. Little miss princess just gets off so good making the team punching bag feel like a piece of shit.”

At his words, you finally found your voice.

“Me? You’re always the one fucking correcting me and bossing me around! You pick fights with me all the goddamn time!”

“Name one time.”

“Hmm, let me see, the time you told Garcia you needed her to hack my phone for a case! The time you fucking told me I was asking to be dominated. Just last week you assumed I didn’t wanna go into a sex shop because, what, I’m too innocent? Or maybe you just want to think of me that way and you hate that it’s not true. Hey, how about the time you pulled me into the file room and pinned me up against the door like a goddamn butterfly?”

You were getting to him, you could tell. His face had slackened but his gaze was much stronger, scrutinizing all of your features carefully.

“You know what else? You’re the only one on the team that calls me by my first name. And I have no idea why! Is it just to bother me or do you actually just not care about giving me any indicators that you respect me? I’ve been a profiler for ten years now and I still can’t read you for shit! You’re so fucking hot and cold you give me freezer burn! Christ, Reid. Sometimes I can’t tell whether you wanna fight me or fuck me!”

Three seconds. That was the time it took you to register that his lips were suddenly on yours, biting and nipping, tongue fighting to get into your mouth.

What the fuck, what the fuck, what the FUCK!

Okay, listen… Normally, if someone you hated with all your heart pressed you up against a door and started to make out with you with the force of a thousand suns, you’d do what any sane person would do; shove them off of you and kick them in the junk.

But Spencer Reid drove you fucking insane.

So, when you suddenly found your hands grabbing his face and pulling him in closer to you, opening your mouth enough to let him devour you whole, it wasn’t all that much of a rational decision. In fact, a whole series of irrational decisions happened in quick succession.

He was pressing you against the door so harshly, it felt safe to let your feet leave the ground, legs coiling around his hips and gasping into his mouth as you felt his length brush your inner thigh. Fuck, he was hard. Oh god. The pressure must have caused your mind to really comprehend what in the fuck was happening here.

Spencer Reid was kissing you up against a wall at work. But that wasn’t even the weird part. The weird part was... you actually liked it.

So, pushing down the thoughts of what a terrible idea this was, your hands gripped the lapel of his suit jacket, frantically pushing it off of his shoulders. As it hit the floor, he groaned, seemingly realizing where you wanted things to go.

He pulled back, tearing open the buttons of your blouse, words falling from his beautifully swollen lips.

“You’re such a goddamn tease. All the time. Wearing these tight little tops and expecting me to not rip it off of you?” he tsked, pulling open the top to reveal your bra, stopping in his tracks at the sight.

He was taking too long. Too fucking long.

Your hands reached for his belt, hurriedly sliding the leather from the strap, snapping it off of his pants and pushing them down.

“Don’t act like you didn’t want this to happen,” you snarked as he picked you up and plopped you down on the small metal table in the center of the room, brushing aside all the papers atop it. Your back hitting the cool metal made you hiss but you went on, “I bet you brought me in here because you knew if we were alone together for more than five seconds, you’d snap. You wanted to fuck me, Reid.”

You were trying to sound like you still had some wits about you, but the truth was, they’d all flown out the window the moment his lips met yours. Those fucking lips.

He didn’t bother denying your claims, opting to roughly pull down your skirt and underwear, one strong hand tightly holding your bare thigh the whole time. Those fucking hands.

“Maybe,” when he spoke again, his voice had dropped two octaves, a register you’d never heard before that sent a flicker of pure delight through your veins, “you’re projecting, Y/N. I think you’ve wanted me to hold you down and fuck you this whole time. You’ve wanted me to shut that pretty little princess mouth up in any and every way possible so you rattle off teases and insults to make up for the fact that you’re just a little whore who is begging to be fucked.”

You heard your moan echo around the room before you even noticed you’d opened your mouth. Quickly, but not quickly enough, his huge hand snapped over your lips, stopping any further sounds from escaping. His other hand dug into his pants pocket and you could hear the crinkle of tin as he rolled on a condom.

All you heard before the world disappeared was, “Shut the fuck up,” as he slid into you in one perfect thrust, his left hand roughly digging into your hip as he grunted with the effort of holding back. But that wasn’t what you wanted. That wasn’t the point of this. And you told him just that.

“Reid,” you groaned through his hand and he relinquished his hold, “fucking fuck me!”

Apparently, you didn’t need to tell him twice.

He didn’t even bother trying to ease you into it, roughly grabbing your hips and pulling you against him with each sharp thrust. It took all you had to keep from screaming as a wonderful mix of pain and pleasure pushed you closer to the edge. Jesus, you were close to coming already after barely a minute.

It was like you said, Spencer Reid drove you fucking insane.

Still, you weren’t quite ready to submit to him completely. There was still quite a bit of fight left in you.

“I bet you’re loving this. Thinking you’re finally in charge of me. I got news for you, Reid,” grabbing his shoulders, you pulled him down so you could whisper in his ear, relishing in the hiss he emitted at the change in angle. “I’m more than you can handle.”

Saying he went wild would be an understatement. He somehow managed to lift you all the way up off of the table, spin you around, and reenter you sharply within the span of two seconds. This time, you couldn’t stop the pathetic mewl that left your throat at the feeling of him inside of you.

Actually, what probably got you was the horrible, dirty things he was whispering in your ear unrelentingly as he pounded into you, one hand on your hip and the other yanking your hair back roughly.

“You think I don’t know how to handle a spoiled little princess? Tell me, who’s the one moaning and writhing underneath me? Huh? Oh, can you not answer because I’ve got my cock buried in you?” He slipped the hand that was in your hair down to your cheeks, squeezing and forcing them into a pucker. “Answer me.”

You could feel how close you were but his thrusts were so slow and patient now. He wasn’t nearly as close as you were. If you were doing this, you were making him come first. You needed to keep some power. You did decide to relinquish a bit of control to him.

“P-Please, Reid….” you whispered, smiling to yourself as he responded exactly as you’d expected.

“Please, what?”

He was moving so slowly now, barely giving you any relief, slowly pushing in the tip only to pull out hastily, leaving you grinding back on his for more.

“Please… please tell me you don’t actually believe that,” you snarked, pleased with the way he suddenly froze, seemingly not expecting to hear that from you.

Your shock, however, didn’t last long. Because after a very pregnant pause, you heard the rush of air come from behind you. Because you felt a sharp, sudden, stinging pain on your left asscheek. Because Spencer Reid had just fucking spanked you.

“Ahh!” you yelped as the heat flared up your body as he sped up his thrusts, entering you deeper and deeper each time.

“I think someone needs to teach you a lesson about what happens when you mouth off to the wrong person. This,” he added with a particularly sharp thrust, “is your punishment, princess. You actually thought I couldn’t handle dominating a little brat like you? You’re the one begging to be filled up like a little whore.”

“Reid,” you let the name slip, feeling yourself slowly giving in more and more the further he pushed you.

“Say my fucking name, princess.”

“Ah! Spe– fuck! Reid!” you keened, happily letting your body give in to the feeling of being totally and utterly used by him, barely noticing almost calling him his first name.

“Tell me, princess, do you even know how tight your little cunt is bouncing back on my cock? I bet I feel so big inside you. I guess you finally got what you needed: to be fucked properly. You’re lucky that I’m the one to do it. I know just how to handle you.”

You groaned as he snaked a hand around you to circle your clit relentlessly, barely managing enough energy to squeak, “I hate you.”

There was anger behind the words, but not honesty. And Spencer knew. It was clear as he leaned in to whisper in your ear a final time, he also knew exactly how to push you over the edge.

“Prove it.”

And in an instant, your climax hit you, washing over you like a waterfall, feeling your walls clench and tighten around Reid’s cock. Drowning in the pleasure of your orgasm, you didn’t even notice the way he grunted as he spilled himself inside of you.

You definitely didn’t notice the way he planted soft kisses to your shoulder blades as he pulled out, whispering small strings of praise. Or the way he stroked your thigh as he carefully pulled your underwear back up. You definitely didn’t notice that.

You hadn’t quite regained your energy, but you knew you had to stand up. Every muscle in your body, however, begged you to collapse to the floor. Luckily, Spencer caught you, prompting you to look up at him, trying not to show the hope that was so obviously shimmering in your eyes.

Strangely, he seemed to be looking at you in a similar sense. Not exactly hopeful but… worried?

“You okay?”

You nodded weakly, breaking the eye-contact and pulling away from him, scurrying to put your clothes back on.

“Yeah. Yeah, I’m fine. Thanks.”

You knew you sounded curt but you just couldn’t bring yourself to express emotion right now. It was stupid, you knew, but in the heat of the moment, you had felt… connected to him. In a purely animalistic way, surely. In a ‘fuck me so hard you impregnate me’ way.

Pushing the fact that that thought got you a little excited to the back of your mind, you turned back to Reid who had also fully redressed. He was shifting on his feet, avoiding looking at you fully.

“Well, now we know what to do next time we butt heads,” you joked, smiling softly to diffuse the tension.

He laughed but you could tell it was superficial. There was something the two of you weren’t saying and you were both waiting for the other to say first.

“We should probably get back out there, huh?”

“Y-yeah,” he stuttered, coughing and doing a ‘ladies first’ motion towards the door.

“Thanks,” you muttered, opening the door slightly, then glancing back at Reid, seeing him looking at you with the words neither of you would say.

“Hey, Spencer?”

He tried not to let his shock show but he did a horrible job. You couldn’t blame him though, it was the first time you’d ever called him by his first name.

“Y-yeah?”

“I… I don’t hate you.”

It wasn’t much, but he smiled liked it was everything. Maybe, in your own special way, it was.

“I don’t hate you, too.”

Giving him a little nod of your head, there was no way you could suppress the joyous smile that lit up your face as you exited the file room. Your coworkers would surely be suspicious, but you didn’t want to think about that right now. Spencer was the only thing on your mind the whole rest of the day and you were sure he’d stay there well into the week.

After all, Spencer Reid drove you fucking insane. Now, you knew, in more ways than one.

TO BE ADDED TO TAGLIST

(sorry if the tags aren’t working! i’ve been having some trouble)

@whollytaciturn @101donuts @thegingerfairchild @safertokiss @cielo1984 @thupidalthea @darkacademiacherry @matthewreid@aloha-ashley-taylor@justchiara-02@spnobsessedmemes @sweet-darlin@dreamy-reid @brokenanxiety @thatsonezesty13 @psychedelic-phase @beautifulalmondstudentduck@awhollandx@baddreamsandbrokenhearts@simp-for-mgg @swagdaddycam@gejatume@url-under-construction@krymson182@addie5264 @pinkdiamond1016 @gublergirls @georgia4287 @thineeminnie @untainted-memories @cm-is-kinda-cool @le-vie-en-amour1 @happyiidiot @wechillingcoop @blankets-for-bees @stewie-castle @dolanfivsosxox

#spencer reid smut #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid gifs #spencer reid #spencer reid fic #matthew gray gubler #fanfic #fanfiction #criminal minds fanfiction #fandom #etherrealoblivion #smut #season twelve reid #reid #spencer

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drarrily-we-row-along · 3 years ago

Text

Day 60: Heart

Harry would never be quite certain of why it happened the way it did. One minute he and Ginny were sitting at dinner and he was listening to her talk about Quidditch practice that afternoon and the next minute the words, “Are you happy, Gin?” were tumbling out of his mouth.

“What?” she asked with a laugh as she flicked her long hair over her shoulder. “Yes, of course I am. We’re shaping up to have a great season and even if we weren’t, I love my job-”

"With me," Harry interrupted. "Are you happy with me?"

She stared at him for a long moment, "What do you mean?"

"It's just-" Harry broke off, rubbing a hand over the back of his neck, "I don't know. Do you even like me?"

"Harry," she said softly, reaching across the table and laying her hand over his, "What in Merlin's name has gotten into you? Of course I like you."

"What do you like about me?"

She drew back and tilted her head consideringly at him, "I like that you're..." she trailed off. "I like you, Harry," she said with a huff. "I like that you're kind and that you're a good listener. I like that you want to protect people. I like that you're loyal."

"You're describing a golden retriever, Gin," he said, pushing his glasses up so that he could rub wearily over his eyes.

"Harry-" she started sounding a hint defensive.

"What are we doing?" he asked, letting his glasses drop down so that he could look at the woman he'd been engaged to for almost a year without planning a single thing about their wedding and he wondered how he hadn't seen it before. "We don't even talk to each other."

(Read more below the cut)

“We talk to each other!” she said before casting a stronger muffling charm around their table to stop any prying ears from overhearing.

“About work,” Harry replied. “About quidditch, about hunting down criminals; about playbooks and rule-books. I’m away half the time for cases and you’re away the other half for games.”

"So this is my fault?" she asked, her cheeks flushing telltale red with anger.

“No!” Harry said quickly, resting his hand over Ginny’s. “Godric, no. I’m not-” he paused searching for the words. “I’m not mad, I’m not hurt, I don’t feel like you’ve abandoned me-”

"Well good," she huffed.

"But I should," Harry finished. "And you should!" he hastened to add.

"I don't understand. What are you trying to say?"

He sighed, “I don’t know. Merlin, I don’t know. It’s just we don’t talk, not about the things that matter. And it feels like I live alone when I come home because the house is almost always empty and I’m sure it must feel the same to you. And I love you, Gin, of course I do, but sometimes it feels like there’s supposed to be more.” He shook his head, “Does this make any sense?”

Ginny was quiet for a long moment. “Maybe,” she said, a touch helplessly, “What do you want me to do?”

“Nothing,” he said. “I’m not trying to change you or make you change your life. I just,” he swallowed and looked down at the table, picking at the stain his pasta sauce had made on the table cloth with his thumbnail. “Sometimes I feel like we didn’t give ourselves a fair chance.”

"A fair chance at what?" she asked.

“I mean, what choice did we have?” he asked, anger and bitterness welling up within him. “After the war? Everyone just expected us to end up together and you were comfortable and you were safe,” he confessed. “And I couldn’t,” he took a sharp breath, trying to quell the unreasonable panic. “I couldn’t even think, then. I’d felt so alone, so hopeless, and so many people had died. And you,” he shook his head, “You were like coming up for air. We never talked about the war, we never talked about the way we felt, never had to work through grief with words. I buried myself in you and I thought it was enough.”

"We can talk about the war," she said. "If that's what you want, what you need, I can listen."

"It's not that," he said, shaking his head. He sighed, "I'm making a mess aren't I?"

"A bit," she said, her tone teasing, and gentle, and familiar and Harry ached all over.

"Do I make your heart feel like it's going to beat out of your chest, Ginny?"

"Well, when I was younger, I suppose," she said with a shrug. "But that doesn't last, Harry. Not for anyone."

“It did for your mum and dad,” Harry said. “Your dad said something to me last night when we were putting away the dishes after dessert. Your mum had come through, fussing about something or another with one of the grandkids and when she left he said, ‘forty years and she still makes my heart beat a little quicker when she comes into a room.’ And I just-” Harry broke off. “I want that for us, Gin.”

She was quiet for a long moment, "So do I."

Harry looked up at her.

"You're right," she said with a little shrug, "I've been so in love with the idea of you that I've just been filling you in with that."

Harry took her hand, “I’m leaving,” he said softly. “I’m moving out and I’m ending it. I just,” he shakes his head, “I wanted to be a part of your family so badly. Not that I proposed to you to that end or anything, it’s just in reflecting on it that I’ve realized-”

“Oh, Harry,” she said, leaning across the table and hugging him fiercely. “You’re a part of our family whether you marry in or not. Don’t be daft.” She sat back in her seat and wiped her eyes, “Mum loves you as much as any of her other children and definitely more than Percy.”

Harry let out a choked laugh and shook his head.

“Is there someone else?” she asked, then. And somehow she didn’t sound suspicious or mad, just genuinely curious.

“Maybe?” Harry said before shaking his head, “I don’t know. I didn’t let myself imagine it.” He looked up at her, “I would never have cheated on you.”

“I know,” Ginny said matter-of-factly. “I would have hexed your bollocks off and you know it.”

He laughed, "No doubt."

"So who is it?"

Harry rubbed the back of his neck uncertainly, “I think I’m bi,” he blurted, a deep flush warming his cheeks.

Ginny laughed, "Well I've known that for ages."

"You have?"

“Sure,” she said with a shrug. “You aren’t the ogling type but I can tell when you’re subconsciously interested in someone and 60% of the time it’s a bloke.”

He leaned back in his chair, "How long?" he asked.

"I don't know," she said with a shrug, "third or fourth year, maybe?"

Harry spluttered, choking on his saliva and coughing. “Fourth year?”

“Why?” Ginny asked, “When did you realize?”

"Last week!"

She nodded, "It's because you were raised by muggles."

"What?"

She lifted one shoulder, “Wizards just aren’t as conventional as muggles so people raised by muggles are generally slower on the uptake, and you... well, you’re you, so let’s just be glad you figured it out on your own at all.”

"I wasn't trying to lead you on."

She smiled at him, a soft gentle thing born of familiarity and love. "I know."

"I do love you, you know."

“I love you, too, but maybe not like I should to marry you,” she said wistfully. “It just always seemed like this was where we were supposed to end up. Married, two and a half kids, a house with a big back garden, happily ever after.”

Harry nodded, “I know what you mean. But we deserve more than that, don’t we?” He covered her hand with his, “I want you to be incandescently happy, Gin. I want you to feel that pitter-patter in your heart every time you look at the person you’re going to spend the rest of your life with. You deserve that”

“You do too, Harry.” She laughed, “Merlin knows that if there is anyone that deserves every happiness in the world, it’s you.” They clinked their glasses together and both drank, “So who is it?”

He shook his head, “No one. And even if it was someone, I’m sure he doesn’t feel the same.”

"It's bloody Malfoy, isn't it?"

"What?" Harry asked, startled, "No. Why would you even-"

“I knew it,” she said, shaking her head fondly. “I knew the minute that you told me that they paired the two of you in the auror department that you were either going to kill each other or end up fucking.”

"We're not fucking!" Harry said, looking around quickly to make sure that no one had heard her, even though the charm was still firmly in place around their table.

"Not yet," she replied with a wicked grin.

"He doesn't even like me."

“Right,” Ginny replied sarcastically before finishing her drink. “Well, I’m off. I have practice in the morning.” She leaned in and pecked him on the cheek. “You’re telling mum, by the way.”

“What? Why?” then before she could say anything else he said, “Fine, but you’re telling Ron.”

She made a face, "I think that's worse."

"I know it is," he replied smugly.

"Fine, but I'm telling him you're in love with the ferret, then."

"I'll trade you," he offered.

"Done."

"You're evil."

"I love you, too," she said with a wink.

“I’ll stay at a hotel tonight. I’ll swing by tomorrow to get my stuff, but you should keep the flat. I never really liked it that well anyway.”

"Are you sure?"

He nodded, "Completely."

"You should tell him," she said.

"Not bloody likely."

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

And yet, Harry still somehow found himself standing outside of Draco Malfoy's muggle flat, rapping sharply at the door.

Draco appeared a few moments later, wearing sweatpants and a t-shirt, his long hair braided loosely, the glasses he wore at night (because vision charms gave him a headache by the end of the day) perched on his nose. "Potter," he said in surprise, looking past him and into the hallway, "Did I miss a patronus? Is it work? Is everything-"

"I broke up with Ginny," Harry blurted.

Draco froze, mouth comically open before he seemed to gather himself, "I'm sorry," he said. "Do you want to come in?"

"You make my heart beat faster," Harry said. "You challenge me, and engage me, you make me feel alive. You are the person I look forward to seeing every single day," he confessed. "I want to tell you everything and I want to hear every thought that passes through your head."

"Potter, what," he spluttered.

"What I'm trying to say," Harry said, exhaling roughly, "Is that Ginny is lovely and I love her but not the way I should to marry her," he said, borrowing Ginny's words. "And she agrees with me," he added hastily.

"I don't understand what you're saying."

"I'm saying that I'm in love with you," Harry said, "and I'm tired of being too afraid and complacent to do anything about it. And you don't have to feel the sa-"

He was cut off by Draco yanking him in by the lapels of his jacket and kissing him, hard and desperate. Harry wrapped his arms around Draco, pulling his body in flush against his own. His heart leapt inside of his ribs, thumping hard enough that he was sure Draco would be able to feel it where their chests were pressed together. He kissed him and kissed him, learning the feel of his mouth and the curl of his body against him.

"I feel the same," Draco whispered eventually after he'd pulled back, when Harry was dizzy with joy (and possibly oxygen deprivation).

"Can I come in?" he asked nuzzling Draco's cheek.

Draco shook his head, "I need to know this is real."

"It's real," Harry said quickly.

"Then prove it, prove that it's not just about you not wanting to be alone, that it isn't just infatuation that will fade." Draco shook his head, "Because I cannot let you into my flat until I know that you will want to stay there forever. I would never get over the heartbreak."

"Okay," Harry said. "I'll prove it to you." He pressed one more kiss to Draco's soft lips, "I'll prove it to you every day until you believe me."

And he did.

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

Day 59: Ring | Day 61: Hurt

#100 drarry drabbles in 100 days #drarry #getting together #drarry drabbles #drarry ficlets #we stan supportive ginny #I can't believe we're at 60 days already!#this one got away from me #love confessions

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binniedeactivated · 4 years ago

Text

— #txt reactions.

(toxic txt....)

a/n; hey guysssss <3 toxic txt under the cut

╰┈➤ soobin --- it finally happened and you couldn't be happier. you were waiting for this moment since you first got the job. especially since you worked your ass off in that place day and night, picking up the slack that your coworkers left for you. you were excited that all of that work didn't go to waste and that your boss finally saw the value you held at the company. when you finally came home you just wanted to do a happy dance across the kitchen floor. a $25,000 raise and a promotion was enough to make you dance like no one was watching. except, someone was watching and it was your beloved husband soobin, who was currently cooking and smirking a little at how giddy you looked. "someone's excited?", he spoke, stirring the food in the pot. you turned to hang your coat on the coat rack trying to hold back how much you wanted to just run around the house. "I have good news baby". he fetches the seasonings across from him. "what is it?". you exhaled, "remember when I'd come home complaining about work and how lazy my coworkers are and how they never do anything?". soobin nods and hums. "mhm?". your heart started to pound. "well.. I don't have to do that anymore because i finally got a raise and a promotion! And I'm making more money than them now. I even get to manage several locations I'm so excited!". you were expecting a lot of reactions out of soobin, but one thing you weren't expecting was for him to go completely cold after that sentence. he didn't smile or jump around with you. he just stood there and continued cooking as if you didn't say anything at all. "soobin?". he hums in response. "did you hear me? I just said I got a promotion and a raise". he nods his head. "yeah I heard you". you throw your hands down at your sides, getting pissed. "so? you're not going to be happy for me?". he leans his hands on the counter giving you a deathly stare. "you don't ever think before you take things? like honestly. how are you going to manage several locations that are much too far from the house? that position is too much". he said annoyingly. you couldn't believe he was being like this. "it's a position that's going to get me closer to the position I really want to be in. why are you turning this into something negative?". he continues stirring, "because it is. it's a dumb decision".

╰┈➤ yeonjun --- as soon as you guys started this type of relationship you agreed it would be a strictly friends with benefits type of deal. no romance or anything of that sort. just sex. good enough sex to satisfy you both throughout your stressors of life. you couldn't get enough of yeonjun and he couldn't get enough of you. he knew exactly how to handle you. but as yeonjun came and went from tour to tour around the world, you had kids. two of them. and it was getting difficult by the day caring for them by yourself and taking in all the finanical responsibility especially if their father was a pop star. yes, yeonjun was their father and you had yet to tell him. in order to cover things up you told him you were screwing around with one of your exes, which yeonjun didn't really care about since he was only with you just for the sex anyways. well, that's mainly what scared you. he didn't care about you or your life, just sex with you. it was the weekend just before yeonjun was scheduled to go on another tour again, and after another session with him he had fallen asleep beside you. money was getting tight and you were on the verge of almost losing your home due to caring for the kids. you decided that it was time he knew, so that he could at least help you. you shook him gently until his eyes fluttering open. "yeonjun? we need to talk". he rubs his eyes and yawns. "about?". you bit the sides of your tongue nervously. "i haven't been honest with you". you admitted, leaving yeonjun to immediately give you a heart wrenching stare that gave you goosebumps. that was another thing about yeonjun. he had a temper equivalent to a lion's roar. "what are you talking about?". you breathed. "those kids? that I told you were from my ex...they're not. they're yours. I had them while you were touring and I hid most of my pregnancy from you and I'm sorry. I'm struggling to raise them alone and I really need a father figure to help me with this". he immediately exhales and facepalms himself in distress. "why are you just now telling me this shit?". "I was scared of what you were going to say". "you don't just drop that on someone. especially while I'm in the midst of another tour-- i can't do this right now". he grabs his shirt and wrestles it over his head. "where are you going?". "I'm leaving. I have to deal with this when I'm ready to deal with it". he lifts himself off the bed and you panic when he walk towards the door. "yeonjun I'm telling you I need help I can't do this alone". he doesn't even look at you before he shuts the door behind himself. "I have to go".

╰┈➤ beomgyu --- "well I think this house is perfect for you both and I can't wait to see you two moving in it". you nodded at your realtor, doing the last walk around in the home you and beomgyu dreamt of having. you wished he could've been here, the moment you guys were finally going to pay the closing costs and settle things just before moving in. but unfortunately he told you that he had to work almost all day today and he wouldn't have the time. you thought this was kind of a special moment but you didn't want to make such a fuss about it. you instead did things on your own, pooling out your wallet to pay the money that would make you and beomgyu home owners. but once you unzipped your wallet you realized that every wad of cash that you held within it was gone. your stomach churned at the sight, not believing this was happening to you at this moment. you gave a nervous chuckle at your realtor, doing another search through your purse trying to figure out if it dropped in there perhaps. you could've sworn it was in your wallet beforehand. looking through your purse hadn't helped, you could only find a couple of old crumpled dollar bills. what was once the most happiest moment of your life quickly became the most embarrassing. and to make matters worse you recalled that beomgyu had been spending more than usual lately, thousands at a time in fact and claiming that it was for work. nothing made you more angry than being embarrassed like that in front of your realtor and possibly loosing the home, most of this anger is the anger that you unleashed on beomgyu as soon as he walked in the door that night. "so what the fuck gyu? what the fuck was that today?". he kicked his shoes off at the door tiredly. "what are you talking about?". he asks even though he knew already. he expected this to happen."you know that house that we already started buying? yeah the closing fee had to be paid today and you knew that. where did all that money go?! why the fuck are you spending so much money?! that was the house that we always wanted". "I didn't spend the money. I don't know what your problem is, blaming me when you're the one being irresponsible". "you're a liar! that closing money was in my wallet for weeks. now all of a sudden when I'm about to spend it it's gone. you have bad spending habits and lately they've gotten worse. where's the fucking money gyu?". he said nothing, just continued walking passed you and getting ready for bed like you weren't even there. he knew what he spent the money on. strippers and explicit services from different women. but that was the last thing he was going to tell you. you swallowed hard and continued speaking. your cheeks burned with fury. "and to top it all off you knew I wanted that house to be ours so we can build a family and start our life in it. why do you do fucked up shit and just not care?". he finally shifted his attention towards you, looking more mellow than anything else. "you need to calm down. alright? I didn't spend it. and if anything, we can find a house somewhere else. it isn't that serious and you need to stop blaming me for everything".

╰┈➤ taehyun --- it always got like this when taehyun was drunk. and taehyun drank pretty often. he wasn't a stranger to liquor and that's what made you most afraid when he got a hold of any. especially on a night like this. your job was having a banquet in celebration of your boss and you were required to attend. you bought a beautiful gown for yourself and of course a lot of expensive makeup and jewelry. you wanted to look your absolute best since almost every executive you could name would be there. but unfortunately taehyun was home, drinking and watching you get ready. he winced at the burning sensation of the liquor slithering down his throat. "where do you think you're going?". you could see him through your long mirror, looking like a drunken mess. his eyes were hazed and he didn't really look like himself. not the sweetheart taehyun that you once knew, the one that used his funny and romantic personality to reel you in the beginning. "I'm going to a banquet taehyun. it's for my boss and I can't be late". he swallows and takes another look at you. "you think you're going anywhere looking like that? what? are you planning on leaving me?". you should've. you should've left him a long time ago as soon as he started to show signs and you knew it. "It's a banquet taehyun. I have to look my best. I can't be looking crazy in front of everyone". he did that fake laugh that you hated. "stop being a liar. you think you're leaving me, and I'm not letting that happen". you shake your head. "don't start this. not tonight. I told you I have somewhere to be and I'm telling the truth. If I were leaving you I would've been gone already". he gives another throaty laugh before taking another swig of his drink. he was nothing like you thought he was when you first met him. "please. you would've been gone already? do you really think there's people out there that want you?". you snapped your head back at him in shock. "what?". "I said do you really think there's people out there that want you? you're lucky that you even have me. you haven't left me not because you don't want to, but because you can't". you clenched your jaw tightly in a fit of rage. "what?". he smirked. he liked whenever he hit a nerve with you. "you heard me. you made me like this. drinking all the time and shit. you drive me crazy. you see how much you've ruined me? you're a toxic piece of shit and no one else is going to put up with you".

╰┈➤ kai --- you both talked about this already. way before your relationship had even started heuning assured that he was completely fine with it. you had a son from your previous boyfriend and kai offered to care for him even though he wasn't exactly his. your son wasn't the problem but it was your ex that drove kai up a wall. he hated the way that your ex was still in love with you. he hated the way he looked at you. he hated the way he talked to you, sweet, and almost as if he was trying his absolute best to win your heart back. what you didn't know about kai was that his jealousy streak was far beyond anything you could ever imagine. so much that he wouldn't even be able to stomach the thought of you with someone else. or you having friends even, taking away the time you could've been spending with him. his jealousy went to unbearable lengths, most of which you haven't seen because he hid this trait from you. it was your son's third birthday, you were throwing a party from him in the backyard of your home. it was the cutest thing kai had ever saw and he wanted to just jump in the bouncy houses along with the kids. but instead, your boyfriend put his childlike traits away and steadily watched you and the father of your child talking across the yard. he couldn't tell what the conversation was about but he saw the man smiling. it didn't take much for kai to make assumptions and as of now he assumed he was flirting with you yet again. he approached the both of you, sliding his arm around your waist and kissing you on your cheek right in front of him. he could see the anger simmering in the man's eyes but kai didn't care. he does that smile that he does for everyone. the smile that made him look like an innocent child "baby I think jae had an accident in the bouncy house", kai informed you. you hurried to the child's aid just like he wanted, leaving him and the man alone. kai reaches into his back pocket and discreetly flicks up his blade, pushing it against the man's clothed stomach. the man's eyes grew large at the sudden threat. kai smirked at his fear. his smile faded and his eyes grew incredibly dark. "flirt with my fiancé again and I promise this blade will go straight through you".

#yeonjun #yeonjun angst #toxic!jun #soobin #soobin angst #toxic!soobin #beomgyu #beomgyu angst #toxic!gyu #taehyun #taehyun angst #toxic!tyun #kai #heuning kai angst #toxic!kai #toxic!txt #txt reactions #txt angst #toxic relationships

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gryffindors-weasley · 4 years ago

Text

Tempers and Temptation

Ron Weasley x Reader

Summary: Ron lets his feelings get the better of him when he finds you spending some time with his brother, and when his temper boils over, it leads to a long overdue confession.

— “Can you shut up for once in your life?”

— “I know you said you didn’t want to be late, but you look amazing, and I’m trying not to kiss you senseless right now.”

Word Count: 5.7k

Warnings: arguing, jealousy, insecurities, angst, mild swearing, fluff, requited love, kissing

A/N: This is my fic for @theweasleysredhair 9k writing challenge! The prompts I’ve chosen are listed above, and they will be bolded and italicized in the fic! (Also, Fred is alive in this one!) Congratulations again my darling Chloe, you deserve all the love and more!

(not my gif, credits to the maker)

It was the beginning of the summer season, just a week and a half before Charlie’s wedding. The Weasley’s had all flocked back to their beloved family home for the once in a lifetime occasion for their brother, the new and improved Burrow now bustling with jovial energy. Harry had come with Ginny, Ron had picked you up on his way, Bill and Fleur were there first with Percy, and Hermione would soon join the family in the next couple of days to come. The decision to host the wedding there was one that was made hesitantly with the way Bill and Fleur’s had ended so tragically. But, the tight-knit family had decided the past was going to be put behind them and they refused to let it tarnish another special day. Their home was remodeled and desperately ready for new and brighter memories.

It was supposed to be a fun trip, and it had been at first, but Ron’s rather bitter mood had begun to sour yours after a while. His irritation only seemed to be directed towards you, you’d noticed, barely speaking more than a few words to you and only when you addressed to him first. The reasoning for his change in behavior was something you weren’t privy to, but you tried your hardest to brush it off and hope it’d resolve soon so you could enjoy your time with your best friend. You were surprised he’d even sat with you at dinner that evening, though he hadn’t contributed very much to the conversation. He opted to push the food around on his plate instead.

George nudges your arm, effectively pulling your attention from Ron to look to your left. You raised a brow at his grin, Fred peering over his brothers shoulder at you with an identical smile. Surely they were up to something; they always were. “What have you done now?”

George leaned in close, speaking in a hushed whisper, wiggling his brows.

“We’ve got a little prank for the groom.” He looks to Charlie momentarily, turning back to you as you gaze up at him curiously when he holds up the smallest of potion bottles. “A couple drops of this and his hair will be as colorful as mum’s flowers!”

You couldn’t stifle your laughter, covering your mouth when you grabbed the attention of the older Weasley in question across the table. Ron sat a little straighter in his seat, his grip on his fork tightening as he exhaled a huff through his nose. The sound of your giggling made his stomach churn, the tips of his ears burning cherry red. You hadn’t paid him and his temper very much mind the whole dinner, hadn’t stolen any food from his plate, hadn’t made a point to embarrass him in front of his family like you usually had. Perhaps it was because you were too busy giving all your attention to his brother; it seemed as though you were always doing that. And he was absolutely not jealous of it.

“Are you okay, Ron?” You ask softly after a while, the sound of his huffing no longer a coincidence and your brows furrowed in concern at the redhead brooding next to you.

“I’m fine,” he dismisses, too quick for it to even be remotely truthful. He shrugs his shoulders as he looks anywhere but at you.

You frown at the sharpness of his tone, his answer once again just as short and vague as all the others. Your gaze lingered on him and he knew it, shifting around in his seat as his cheeks flush a pale pink. After a few moments you look away, only briefly. “Are you sure? You’re acting weird.”

“I said I’m fine, Y/n.”

The crease between your brows deepens, your frown remaining as your heart flips in your chest and it was quite obvious he was at odds with you. You brush it off and stuff down the hurt that bubbled in your stomach, repeating his actions as you shove the food around on your plate. His shoulders slumped a bit more at the look on your face, but the way George had whisked you away into conversation had him quickly swallowing down his apology.

He felt you hadn’t seemed too bothered anyway, but it very much bothered him. He wanted nothing more than to steal you just for one day, to have your undivided attention just for once this trip. Unbeknownst to him he could have it whenever he wanted it, but his stubborn attitude and his rash assumptions had pushed you away. The conclusions he’s jumped head first into had gotten him into a trouble only he could bail himself out of, whenever he’s ready to think rationally, that is.

He’d spent the whole dinner casting you longing glances that went unseen, exhaling sighs that hadn’t gone unheard. He managed to hold a half-conversation with Harry and he stuffed down the rest of his mashed potatoes that have since gone cold. Perhaps most noticeable to everyone was his lack of excitement for dessert considering it had been his absolute favorite. Instead he had a small sliver of the cake before excusing himself, setting his dirty dishes in the sink and sauntering off up the stairs wordlessly.

You followed after him to his old room after you’d had enough, hot on his tail as your fists clenched at your sides. “What is your problem?”

He turned around, brows knit together as he looked down at you quizzically. A bitter laugh left his lips at the question, and he pretended as if he didn’t have a clue as to what you were talking about. “I don’t believe I have one.”

“Oh really?” you begin, squinting up at him in disbelief. “This is the most you’ve said to me since we’ve gotten here, Ron. So I’m going to ask you again, what’s your problem?”

You were rapidly growing impatient at the fact that he’d been very obviously skirting around the question, more so at his lack of communication the entire week, fluffing the pillows and smoothing the blankets on his bed to distract himself from giving you an answer.

However, you didn’t miss the way his chest was beginning to rise and fall at a quicker pace than before as his jaw tenses. He finally turned to look at you directly as you stood there with an expectant look on your face. “I don’t know, why don’t you ask George?”

Your brows furrowed in confusion at his words, head tilted as you squint up at him. “What?”

“Forget it,” he grumbles, shaking his head. He pushed in the chair seated at his desk, rearranging a few misplaced things that lay atop it.

“No, tell me again.”

He stands before you, clearly getting worked up the more time that had passed.

“Alright. I said, why don’t you go ask George? You’ve only spent every waking moment with him since we got off the bloody train!” He said, raising his voice at you as a pale scarlet began to flood his cheeks and burn down his neck.

“And what’s that supposed to mean?” You scoff, taking a step closer to him. You cross your arms over your chest, quickly unraveling them moments later as you fidget angrily.

“You don’t have to pretend, Y/n. Why don’t you just bring your stuff to his room instead?”

His tone was taunting now, immaturity weaving around his words the more he spoke his mind. It was beginning to remind you of the time he’d acted the very same way when you had gone to Hogsmeade with Cormac McLaggen. He hadn’t spoken to you for three days until he had finally gotten over it, claiming he was simply stressed over an upcoming quidditch match and nothing more. There was always something more.

“Don’t be ridiculous,” you counter. You watched the color continue to stain his freckled cheeks the angrier he got. Then realization hit you in that very moment. “Ron, are you jealous?”

“Jealous?” He repeats, trying his best to sound as if he were utterly surprised and not at all knowledgeable of your accusation. Trying to act as if you’d just said the most absurd thing in the world. “I’m not jealous.”

He wholeheartedly was, that much was clear. Though he wasn’t about to let you know that. It lanced through him every time he saw you, every time you laughed at his brothers jokes, every time you chose to spend time with his brother over him. He loathed the feeling that settled deep within his chest and simmered there; he knew it was irrational and he knew he had been unfair the past week. He loved his brother, he loved his whole family deeply, but he couldn’t help but to feel as though he came in last place in more ways than one. He felt he had a lot to live up to being the youngest brother, and he was sure he wasn’t quite doing that. He always had to share everything, and there was one thing he wanted to himself. He wanted to be selfish and have it all to himself. And that one thing was you.

You could feel your cheeks flush a burning red at his ridiculous behavior, heart beginning to race and pound against your chest in frustration. “Yes you are! You’ve been ignoring me for the past week, Ron. He is my friend. Much like you even though you haven’t been acting like it.”

He didn’t want to be your friend, he wanted to be more than that. He wanted to cross his room and kiss you, not argue over his own jealousy.

He rolls his eyes and digs himself deeper instead, crossing his arms to mimic your stance. “Yeah, right, it won’t be long until you two are snogging. Maybe Aria will throw you the bloody bouquet next week.”

“Can you shut up for once in your life?”

You grit out the words as you attempt to conceal the falter in your voice from trying to suppress your tears, hastily grabbing your bag from the floor and slinging it over your shoulder. Your eyes stung by now as you turned to look at him briefly with your hardest stare, promptly spinning on your heel to walk out.

“Where are you going?” He asks, brows furrowed and his arms drop down to his sides.

“Anywhere to get away from you.”

“Fine.”

You rushed down the winding wooden staircase with a heavy ache in your heart, and in that moment you wished there hadn’t been so many floors because you desperately wanted to leave. As much distance from him as possible would be nice. The tears began to spill over your flushed cheeks, wiping them away with the back of your hand as your other held the strap that rested on your shoulder.

“Why the long face, Y/n/n?” Fred asked with a pout as you hurriedly passed by the living room.

“Your brother is an idiot,” you sniffle, though your tone was still angry as you brushed by him to get outside.

It was dark out now, the night breeze that swept over you giving you chills. You continued to walk towards the field surrounding the cozy home, nothing but anger in your stride and a headache forming from trying to keep your tears at bay. Despite that you kept on walking as they spilled freely down your cheeks now that you’d been alone, only stopping when you reached the familiar clearing. It wasn’t too far from the Burrow, but far enough to be left alone for a little while. Far enough from Ron and his absurd jealousy.

You sat down on the slightly overgrown grass, hugging your bag to your chest as you let your frustrated tears fall quietly one after another. The stars glimmered above you in the navy expanse, unable to be truly appreciated in your state of mind and the moon provided just enough light for you to not be quite so fearful to be alone out there at night. Frustration barely explained how you felt, how could he be so oblivious?

George was one of your closest friends, all of the Weasley’s were for that matter. You had grown up around the delightful family just a few years short of your whole life, so quite honestly his behavior was something unjust. It wasn’t unlike him to be distant, to let things bottle up and build before he bursts. But his words cut through you and you wondered just how long he’d been keeping it in.

Regardless, you continued to sniffle and wallow to yourself, the cuffs of your shirt now dampened by your tears. Being in love was a wonderful thing, but it was also something that could hurt you all the same. You felt ridiculous, really, to have pined for the same ginger boy since you were fifteen. It had been eight years of backing out of confessions, of being on the brink of kissing him. Eight years of taking turns being jealous but unaware of the other.

It was a viscous cycle that seemed to do more harm than good sometimes, but you suppose it could’ve been your own fault for keeping your feelings a secret. You didn’t know he broke up with Lavender because he’d missed you so much. All you knew was that seeing him with somebody else hurt. He hadn’t known you turned down Cormac’s several dates in favor of spending your free time with him instead. He just knew there was talk of the two of you, and the thought of pressing further for more information made him nauseous. You were so blind to one another it was starting to take its toll.

In his teen years not long ago, he would have kept his distance out of sheer stubbornness. He would have brooded to himself and sulked about until he was over it, but now he just felt ridiculous. He was twenty-three years old still acting like he was thirteen, and the regret pooled in his chest the moment the words left his mouth. The truth was, he couldn’t bear being apart from you for too long, especially when your absence hadn’t been on good terms. He could swallow his pride if it meant you wouldn’t leave.

You didn’t know how long you’d been out there, but it certainly felt like a considerable amount of time. You’d unknowingly sulked to yourself for the last two hours, the initial anger long gone. The lights of the first floor had since been turned off, mismatched windows beginning to lose their glow as well as your eyes raked up the home. All but the very top floor.

Your time alone was cut short at the familiar footfalls sounding behind you. You close your eyes and release an exasperated sigh. “Y/n?”

“Have you come to yell at me again?” You huff, standing to your feet and turning around. The urge to cry had immediately come back upon seeing him but you simply stared at him.

He stilled in front of you, brows furrowed as he swallowed thickly. His eyes bounced from the bag clutched tightly in your shaky hand, so much so your knuckles were an ivory white. Then they landed on your face, at the tears rimming your eyes and wetting your flushed cheeks. At your rosy nose and miserable frown on your lips. Your lip quivered in a mix of anger and tears you fought to suppress now that he stood before you again.

“No,” he said, much softer this time as he looks at the ground momentarily before coming up with a defense. “To be fair you yelled at me too.”

You narrowed your eyes at him in an unamused glare and purse your lips, crossing your arms over your chest. “Why exactly did you follow me out here then?”

He shrugged timidly, stuffing his hands in his pockets briefly before taking them back out again nervously. He was too flustered to lie. “Because you never go out at night by yourself.”

He remembered, of course he did. No matter how irrational, no matter how mad he may have been. But that wasn’t important, it shouldn’t have been because you were angry at him over the fact that he thought you were so madly in love with his brother. You were angry that he had been so blind to the fact that you were madly in love with him. You felt as though it couldn’t have been anymore obvious, but you suppose you were wrong.

A heavy sigh left your lips as you stared up at him with a softer gaze, biting the inside of your cheek. “Well, I’m fine. You can go inside now.”

With a few moments of a lingering stare, you turned away from him, unable to withstand the tension any longer but he hadn’t left you just yet. Instead, he stayed put, staring after you wordlessly as you took a few more steps away from him. His heart had been bounding mercilessly in his chest as if he’d just run halfway across the world to see you, his words on the very tip of his tongue.

“Don’t,” he said abruptly, cheeks flushing at the unintentional raise in his voice. You stand still then, your back to him as you wait. He gulped as he fought desperately to articulate his words in a way that didn’t make him look any more foolish before you could take another step away from him. “Don’t leave.”

You turn back around, clutching the strap resting on your shoulder as you look up at him. His mouth must have opened and closed at least a dozen times, looking like a fish out of water until eventually he gave up entirely as he met your gaze.

“I wasn’t planning on leaving,” you say softly, and his cheeks are quick to burn the scarlet red shade of embarrassment at his words. He simply nods in acceptance, though, looking away from you.

A silence settles over you, save for the crickets chirping and the occasional breeze sweeping through the warm summer air. It was tense and inescapable, neither one of you knowing just what to say or how to say it, though it was very clear that something was on both your minds. More than what had just transpired not long ago.

“I think I’m going to head to bed now. It’s late,” you finally say, brushing past him and back towards the misshapen home that stood tall in front of you. The tension was almost suffocating and you had to leave before it had gotten any worse.

“Y/n wait,” he calls out, hesitant as his hand reaches out for you, dropping back to his side as quickly as he held it out when he saw you’d been too far to grab onto.

You turn your head and look over your shoulder, the look on his face causing you to turn around fully. Your brow raises in curiosity though you stay quiet. A sigh leaves his lips in frustration with himself. The words were on the very tip of his tongue, just waiting to be spoken as they had been for quite a while. The reason for his behavior was right there.

“Goodnight.” It’s all he says, finding it impossible to speak his mind when you look at him like that.

You nod, glancing up at him with a half smile. “Night, Ron.”

—

A week had gone by since your argument, and things had been considerably less awkward between the two of you, though it was still very much there. Ron had stopped avoiding you, he stopped speaking to you in one word answers in favor of your usual banter. And he stopped his sulking and brooding, for the most part.

Hermione had arrived and has stolen you away once more but he expected as much, though you did notice him focus his gaze on you on more than one occasion. It left you jittery, as if you were in fourth year again and he’d just asked you to the Yule Ball. Hermione insisted that you admit your feelings, not without a friendly but firm threat that she’d tell him for you. You promised you would in time, just not yet. You weren’t exactly jumping at the opportunity to put your heart out on the line.

Ron had almost told you he loved you three times over that week, but he kept it to just an apology no matter how tempting it was to spill his most vulnerable feelings once and for all. He spent so long holding the words on the very tip of his tongue that he just wanted to say them a million times over.

He wanted to tell you when he watched you and Hermione help his mother with dinner. You looked like sunshine as you laughed in the cluttered kitchen joyously, too focused on conversation to notice him gawking. He wanted to swipe the flour off your cheek and press his lips to yours in a kiss, tell you just how much he adored you and all that you do.

He wanted to tell you when you helped him wash his dads car. You’d been teasing him about the infamous scratch that just couldn’t be repaired by Ron’s encounter with the Whomping Willow, the brightest smile on your face. He found you could pick on him all you wanted and he wouldn’t mind, even when you sprayed him with the garden hose. He was too distracted by the way your hair glimmered and sparkled in the afternoon sun to care about much else.

He wanted to tell you when you’d helped him set up the tent for the wedding the night before the ceremony. You found yourselves laying side by side on the ground, staring up at the striped ceiling of the enchanted structure in awe. You’d caught him staring and he looked away immediately, smiling to himself as his hand brushed against yours. Conversation had long since been quieted at that point, your presence alone being enough to keep him happy no matter what. He wanted to tell you of his all consuming love without pause.

Now, you were shuffling around his room in a hurried panic, time ticking by relentlessly as you search for the matching earring that was supposed to be adorning your right ear, but it had been nowhere to be seen. A frustrated sigh leaves your lips as you root through your bag for the third time now, dumping its contents out completely in hopes for a better outcome. The commotion filtering in from outside certainly hadn’t helped flustered state.

“Do you really need to wear those earrings? I’m sure Ginny’s got some you could use, or maybe even Mione,” Ron reasons with a shrug as he tries to ease your frustration.

“Yes, Ron. These go with my dress, I need to find it,” you insist, frowning when your triple check yielded the same result. It was just your luck to have lost a key part to your attire only moments before an important event. You were beginning to think you hadn’t packed the complete set at all.

He shakes his head with a soft laugh at the way you’d been acting, stuffing his hands in his pockets as he watches you flitter around in a huff. He felt you didn’t even need the earrings, it wouldn’t have taken away from your radiance, nothing could. You looked absolutely beautiful in your dress, and he tried not to dwell on the fact that it’d matched his suit. Maybe it was just a coincidence, but he couldn’t help the feeling blooming in his chest.

Your groaning had pulled him from his lovestruck thoughts, your hand running through your hair. There were so many places the delicate piece of jewelry could’ve gotten lost in, and you were beginning to think you should give up entirely.

“This is unbelievable,” you grumble, taking a moment to think it over and retrace your steps. “I’m positive I brought both, I even double checked with you!”

He nods, going along with your words. “Y-Yeah. I’m quite sure you did,” he assures, scratching the back of his neck.

You rolled your eyes at his nonchalance, pursing your lips at him as you huff through your nose.

“Ron, it would be better for the both of us if you stop standing there and help me,” you say matter-of-factly, looking hopelessly in the drawers of his desk. When you look over your shoulder at him, it’s as if he hadn’t heard a single word you’d just spoken to him, his eyes fixed on you with a soft smile on his lips. “What?”

You turn around fully, raising a brow expectantly as you wait for his explanation of just why he’d been looking at you like that. He looked away momentarily, shifting his gaze to peer out of the window and collect himself before looking back at you, biting the inside of his cheek to fight his widening smile. “Nothing.”

You hadn’t bought his response, not even for a second, and he knew that. He wasn’t exactly being discreet by now, he’d stopped trying to do so a while ago. Partly because he knew you’d be too oblivious to put the pieces together, and partly because he was too smitten to mask it. It was rather tiring; to love someone for nearly a decade without certainty of it being reciprocated was taunting. Yet he didn’t have it in him to move on to someone else, because the truth was, no one in his lifetime could hold a candle to you.

“Could you please help me?” You ask again in a much less irritable tone this time. You spun on your heel quickly, hoping to mask the very obvious fact that a million butterflies had been set loose in your stomach, smiling softly as you scrambled to remember just what it was you had been looking for. With your back turned, you missed the way he stood there with hesitancy, the way you could practically see the gears turning in his head if you’d been looking at him. But he was grateful you couldn’t see it.

He’d spent the past week thinking of a hundred different ways to tell you this, all of them sounding hopelessly romantic in his head. It hadn’t gotten better with each day that passed either, switching between doubt and wanting to grab your face and kiss you. It became a looping cycle within those seven days, taunting him until he just couldn’t suppress it a moment longer. He refused. He couldn’t take it anymore.

“I know you said you didn’t want to be late, but you look amazing, and I’m trying not to kiss you senseless right now.”

The words tumbled from his lips and he almost winced with how utterly direct it was, spilling out with much less grace and eloquence than he’d planned. There was no way you wouldn’t understand what he meant after that.

Your distracted actions stilled at his quiet words, turning your head as your mouth hung slightly agape. A soft crimson stains your cheeks as you become aware of just how fondly he’s staring at you now, and you have the pressing urge to look away from it’s sheer loving intensity, but you don’t. However, you did drop the hairbrush in your hand, the sound deafening as it clattered loudly to the floor in the otherwise quiet room. The corner of his mouth quirked up in a timid smile as he laughs nervously, the tips of his ears burning while he fumbles with the hem of his vest.

You hadn’t been entirely sure you’d heard him correctly, but you were too stunned and too caught up hoping you had been to ask for any clarification. A part of you was tempted to pinch yourself to see if you’d been dreaming, but you were quite sure you weren’t. Even though a few fleeting moments had passed, the seconds felt like hours to him and you knew you couldn’t stare forever.

A rush of confidence had coursed through you in that moment because he hadn’t appeared to be joking, a smile pulling at your lips. “Well go on then.”

His breath caught in his throat at your words, his heart nearly beating right out of his chest. So much so that he found it impossible for you to not hear it’s rhythmic pounding. Though he quickly breaks out of his daze, his hand enveloping yours as he tugs you closer. His lips press to yours with the force of a thousand kisses, his fingers quick to tangle in your hair as your hands settle on his cheeks. Years worth of longing had seemed to seep into every brush of his lips, in the very way he’d been holding you as if you’d slip right through his fingers. And every time the warmth of his breath swept over you, it sent a bout of shivers rushing over your skin and leaving you completely enchanted.

You couldn’t help the smile forming, a soft laugh leaving your mouth as your nose brushes against his lips lightly. The pause in your kiss hadn’t lasted more than a few seconds as he found himself completely drawn to you. The desire to skip the reception altogether in favor of staying right there with you had lanced through him, the thought all too enticing but he knew he’d never hear the end of it.

“Bloody hell,” he murmurs, a lopsided smile tugging at the corner of his mouth as he lets out an airy laugh, breathless and in awe. The quizzical look on your face is prompting enough for him to speak his mind. “I love you.”

The words were soft and they were true, mumbled without second thought in the close proximity. It had only taken him two years short of a decade to do so. His eyes flutter closed at the feeling of your quiet laughter on his lips, a sigh escaping him.

“I tell the girl I love my true feelings and she laughs at me. How wonderful,” he grumbles in faux offense, breaking away from you to shake his head as he looks to his right.

Your fingers brush over his jaw and turn him back to you immediately, leaning on your toes and kissing him once more. One that turned from a simple peck to a languid kiss that he found it next to impossible to break from. He hadn’t wanted to either. Your laughter has since disappeared, silenced against his lips as the certainty of his words truly began to sink in.

“I love you,” you whisper, and the smile on his face is immediate. His forehead rests on yours as his nose scrunches, his hair tickling your skin and a hum escaping him.

His hand squeezed your own gently, his lips continuing to ghost over yours in the softest of kisses. He had a lifetime to kiss you now, he had every day to come to do so, but he also had this current moment and he felt there was nothing more he wanted to do. It was apparent he was in a daze of requited love, it was obvious by the very way he looked at you as if you’d been the one person making the world go round.

You return his thoughtful look, something akin to mischief dancing in your eyes and he knew he was in for something. “Ron?”

He hums in response, his lips pressing to your cheek in hopes to distract you from the inevitable. His attempts were valiant but not enough to cloud your mind.

“So you were jealous?”

He squeezed his eyes shut as he drops his head to your shoulder, desperate to hide the noticeable scarlet invading his freckled cheeks. A groan leaves his lips and vibrates against your skin, he knew you would bring it up. He also knew this wouldn’t be the last time you would either. His soft laughter answers your question, his arms tightening their hold around you.

“You’ll never let this go, will you?”

You respond with a shake of your head, brushing strands of red hair from his eyes before wrapping your arms around his neck in a tight embrace. His smile is adoring as he tucks his face in your neck once more. He’s got you now, he’s unknowingly had you all along but his blunders didn’t seem to matter in that moment. Nothing did except for you.

His grin turned to that of a mischievous smirk, tugging on the corner of his lips as he stifled his laugh.

“What is it?” You ask, brow raised as you push back and your hands rest on his chest.

After a moment he held up his free hand between the two of you, the glimmering silver of your missing earring dangling between his finger tips. Your eyes widen a fraction as you gasp, his laughter unable to be contained much longer as you swat his arm.

“How long have you had that, Ron Weasley?”

He simply shrugs as a blush coats his cheeks and you snatch the earring from his hand with a playful frown, slipping it in your ear with ease.

“To be fair, I needed some time to work up the nerve to kiss you,” he reasons, your frown fading as you roll your eyes.

An eruption of boisterous cheers sounding several floors below had been reminder enough of the plans you were currently absent for. Surely they must have been waiting on the two of you. “Now look what you’ve gotten us into. We’re officially late.”

His gaze gave way to just how enamored he’d been by you, his lips meeting yours once more in hopes to hold him over until he could kiss you again. He knew that effort would be futile. He doesn’t even know how he’d made it this long without doing so a thousand times over.

“I’m sure they won’t miss us for five more minutes.”

You look up at him momentarily, your squeal ringing out as he nearly swept you off your feet. Your words are whispered against his lips as he brushes the hair from your face.

“Five more minutes.”

—

Tags: @vogueweasley @loony-loopy-lupinn @theweasleysredhair @lupinsclassroom @amourtentiaa @hahee154hq

#twrh9kwritingchallenge #ron weasley #ron weasley one shot #ron weasley fanfiction #ron weasley x you #ron weasley x reader #ron weasley fluff #ron weasley angst #ron weasley fic #ron weasly imagine #ron weasley headcanon

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lyntonier · 3 years ago

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A train to Paris

Carmen Sandiego x Gray Calloway

Summary: Carmen is taking a break away from her work — helping out at the Orphanage and fighting crime — and decides to take a trip back to Paris, a location she quite enjoyed. During her journey she meets a familiar face she believed she would not see again.

A/N: This is set after season 4.

"So Carms, I hear you are off to Paris for the week huh?"

I smile into the phone, listening to Ivy's comment.

"You heard correct. Well, assuming nothing goes wrong, that is".

I had gotten a break from working at the Orphanage with my Madre, so I decided to take myself on a little trip. We had finally met about eleven months ago, and I had been helping around as much as I possibly could without a break. Well, I tell a lie, I had a couple days free from working with Madre, though I used those days to check for any crime around. I guess some habits die hard huh, this was meant to be my new start but I can't seem to leave fighting crime behind. It was my choice to work so much at the Orphanage though.

Madre had had enough and told me to take a week away and go someplace, so where better than Paris? The beauty of the city when the sun goes down and the lights come on again, the food, the art and architecture, the history, it's simply something I cannot forget. It's truly a once in a lifetime thing.

"Wow, I'm so jealous! I wish I could be there with you, it would be so much fun- Zack stop! Leave Julia alone. No- She probably does NOT appreciate that, so quit it... Yes, you, who else?!.......... Sorry Carms, it's Zach trying to flirt with Julia again".

Giggling at Ivy's scolding to her brother, I make a mental note to tease him about that when I next see him. He kept flirting with the poor woman, to which she would politely laugh and make an excuse to leave.

"No worries Ivy, it's alright. I must admit though, I do feel sorry for Julia in some respects".

"I know right! Gosh, he's so oblivious sometimes. I love him anyway though, no matter how much of a douche brain he is".

"It would be nice to be able to meet up with all of you again, it's been a while since I saw all of you properly. You'll have to let me know when you two both have some time off and I'll get hold of Shadowsan and Player, then we can all have a nice catch-up".

I hear Ivy sigh wistfully into the phone, light laughter leaving her lips.

"Honestly Carms, that seems like such a good idea right about now. I'm so tired with work, I got called out five times within the past two days, three of which were last night. I've not had a nice snooze in for ages and I could do with one right about now, haha."

"You do sound quite tired. When do you get off shift?"

"Uuuh, hold on....... Forty-five minutes, then I can go home".

"Well, you should treat yourself to a warm bubble bath and a long rest".

"I think I'll take that one and do just that. Ah- I've got to shoot, Cheif is calling for me. I'll call you tomorrow and we can talk more, yeah?"

"Yes, wouldn't miss it for the world. Tell the others I said hello for me? And I'll work on arranging a girls trip between you and me to somewhere, just let me know where you fancy going".

"Oh you're a star Carm, I'll be looking forward to that then. I'll decide tonight and let you know tomorrow, and I'll pass on your 'hellos' to the others. Talk soon Carm".

I smile into the phone, mildly disappointed that our conversation had to end so soon.

"Talk soon Ivy".

With that, I hear the beep of an ended call as Ivy hangs up the line. A sudden wave of exhaustion washes over me as I move my phone down to my lap, checking the time. It was 1:15 in the morning. Raising my eyebrows, I nod at my phone, surprised at how late it was. I should probably try to get some sleep as I'll be arriving at my stop in about seven hours from now and I would much prefer to not be falling asleep at every given moment.

Setting my phone down next to myself, I grab a blanket out of my carry bag and drape it over my lap, removing my jumper and folding it into four before placing it onto the seat to my left. Reaching up above myself, I pull a cord that turned off the lights in my little train booth, engulfing myself in darkness. The only form of light that I had at this stage was the gentle light from the moon, it would be full soon. Laying down, I place my head onto my jumper and pull my blanket up higher, closing my eyes and relaxing my body.

Right as I began to doze off, I felt a strange feeling of wariness make itself known in my gut, enticing me to sit up and evaluate my surroundings. Within a couple of seconds of having my eyes open, I heard a light tapping on my booth door. Someone was there. Averting my eyes to the glass section of the door, I keep my body motionless as I trace the figure with my eyes and their every possible movement.

If I stayed still then they would not see me and assume I was sleeping and most likely leave.

*tap, tap, tap*

"Excuse me, uh, I know you are awake.. can I come in? My booth has no heating and it's really cold out here".

Or maybe not.

Cautiously eyeing the door, I slowly raise myself from the seats and brace my hand into a fist, ready to fight off a possible threat. Standing tall, I cautiously step my way over to the door before grasping the cool metal handle with one hand and undoing a lock with the other. Twisting the handle, I edge the door open bit by bit.

"Hello... Um.. yes you may".

It was a man, not that much taller than me, and Australian. Or perhaps Kiwi. I couldn't see many of his facial features, other than the fact that he had a man bun and a couple bags with him. I wracked my brain for any vocal recognitions, however, nothing matched.

Standing aside, I made room for the strange man to come inside.

"Cheers mate, sorry 'bout how odd this is. I went to the train staff to ask about the heating and they told me that the booth I chose was meant to be closed, though the person on duty of closing it off didn't get around to it, hence me choosing the unlucky booth. They told me I would have to ask to share booths with somebody else seen as though all others are booked, and I saw your light go out, so I came here. Sorry and cheers again".

The man laughed, rubbing what I assumed was the back of his neck. His explanation seemed pretty truthful and his reasoning honest.

"That's no problem, sorry that you got a faulty booth, that must've sucked".

"Hah, tell me 'bout it" He joked.

Smiling, I close the door and return to my seat, watching as he put his bags in the overhead luggage area, leaving out a blanket of his own. Smart man.

"So, what's your name mate?"

"Carmen. And you?"

I see him whip his head around, before shaking it and laughing lightly.

"I had a friend called Carmen, though I've not seen her in a long time. My name is Grah-Grayson. Grayson".

I raise my eyebrow at his stutter, smirking lightly.

"Well, it's a pleasure to meet you Grah-Grayson" I tease.

"Haha, as to you Carmen".

With that, we both fell silent, just basking in the pleasant atmosphere of the booth with the same idea of sleep on our minds.

Slipping back into my 'bed', I pull my blankets back over myself and close my eyes, listening carefully at everything around me. I hear some stuffing around, something dropping on the floor, followed by a second something, more shuffling, then a satisfied sigh. Peering over my shoulder, I see the outline of a body laying on the seat across from mine.

"Did you just take your shoes off?"

"Hm? Ah yeah mate, can't sleep with shoes on, that's just crazy".

Grah-Grayson laughs at his own statement, finding humour in my question.

I feel my lips draw into a thin line as I shuffle my feet around awkwardly, my shoes very much still on.

Am I crazy?

"G'd'night mate, thanks again for letting me in on such short notice".

"No, no, that's fine. Goodnight".

It felt strange saying goodnight to a stranger, though I had most definitely done stranger.

I feel my eyes shoot open rather rapidly, my heart pounding against my ribcage as I scramble to sit upright, taking in my surroundings eagerly before eyeing the strange man in the booth with me. I check the room once again for anything out of the ordinary, before removing the blanket from my body and standing, striding my way over the door and yanking it open silently and slipping out, closing it behind myself. I needed some fresh air.

Making my way to the end of the train, I open a door that leads to a small balcony attached to the carriage. Immediately the wind hits me, blowing my hair to the side.

Sucking in a deep breath of air, I relax my shoulders and close my eyes. I had a nightmare — rather a memory — that Coach Brunt had broken into my booth and tied me up, much like before, and decided that enough was enough and planned to end things then and there.

A pretty sad nightmare, huh.

I enjoy the breeze a little longer before turning around and opening the door, walking back into the train carriage and back to my booth. Opening the door, I am surprised to see Grah-Grayson awake and sat upright, watching out of the window at the scenery. It was early for him to be awake, it was about five in the morning and the sun had begun rising, casting a gentle glow in the booth.

"Ah, mate, there you are, are you alr-......."

The words leave his mouth as he stares at me in surprise, horror, happiness, sadness and recognition... a mix of everything. Exactly what I was feeling.

Tears fill my eyes as I gaze at the male before me. It couldn't be...

"G-Gray?"

"Black sheep..?."

Grah-Grayson stands up, tears in his own eyes as he stares at me intently.

Stepping forward, I feel my arms raising slightly and before I knew it I was lunging for him, sobs wreaking through my lips as tears flowed heavily from my eyes. Engulfing him in my arms, I feel him do the same with just as much ferocity. I hear sobs come from him too, his chest rising and falling quickly and sharply with each gasp of air.

Before anything could be said, I feel anger suddenly wash over me, leading me to remove my arms from around him and shove him away harshly, placing some distance between us.

A confused whimper leaves his mouth, clearly unintentionally, but before he could say anything I let months worth of hurt, confusion, upset and anger form into words and flow out freely.

"Gray where were you?! W-What did you mean 'don't tell her' that you woke up!! Do you know how long I waited for you to wake up in the hospital, unable to see you or hear from you, not knowing that you had long gone?! Do you- Do you know how long I WAITED fOR YOU? Three months Gray- three months that you were gone and I was waiting for you to wake up so that we could start over, so that I could know you were okay!" The words kept flowing out, no matter how much I tried to stop them. Although I didn't try. I couldn't bring myself to try. I started pacing back and forth as I rambled, making sure the emphasis on certain words came out.

"Carmen, let me explain, I-"

I cut him off, anger still clouding my better judgement.

"NO Gray, you don't get to explain until you hear me!! I searched EVERYWHERE for days, weeks, months for you, thinking that something had happened to you, only to be told by Chief that you had requested to not have your condition or whereabouts revealed to me! Why Gray, why..? If you were angry or upset at me and didn't want to see me, you could have just told me instead of making me worry like that! I spent so many nights awake trying to find out where you were with the help of Player, but nothing!! NOTHING!"

I heave out everything that has been resting on my shoulders, the feeling of relief evident on my shoulders as a weight had been lifted.

"Carmen I was never upset at you, more of I was upset at myself. It was my fault that you had been captured and lured in, I knew what was happening and I could have prevented it, but I didn't. I blamed myself for you being brainwashed and hurt, and for myself being hurt. I was such an idiot and I didn't want to do something that could hurt you again-"

"And yet you did.." I remark with a whisper, adverting my eyes as I crossed my arms over my chest, hugging myself and sniffling as I did so.

"I know and I'm sorry... I didn't want to interfere with your life, not after everything that had happened. VILE was caught and disbanded, you had information on your mother, everything was over and you had a fresh start ahead of you and I didn't want to get in the way of that. So, I changed my identity and lived away from the public eye, hidden away where you could not find me. It wasn't just a fresh start for you, it was one for me too... I asked for you to not be told of my departure, even though Cheif strongly suggested against it, the same with that Julia lady. I told them it was my only request, and they allowed it eventually. I now realise that wasn't a good idea and that it hurt you much more than I believed it could or would... I am so sorry Carmen.. I really am so, incredibly sorry.. I can't blame you if you are angry at me, I gue-"

"Of course I'm angry at you!! I finally realised after all of that time that I was in love with you, and I was prepared to tell you, only to find that you were gone! Those three months left in the dark were pure heaven compared to the.. the shitty, crappy, horrible feelings once I found out you were gone!"

I watch as Gray's eyes widen in surprise, as he stutters his next sentence, his face flushed from tears, much like my own.

"C-Carmen.. you- what did you just.. what did you just say?"

"That I realised after all of this time that I was in love with you, so very incredibly in love with you, and that I was prepared to tell you!" I growl.

We both stand there in silence, the cool feeling of my tears drying up on my face present. Sudden realisation dawns upon me at what I had just boldly announced. Smacking my hand over my mouth, I gasp, my eyes widening as the realisation finally sets in completely.

Nothing is said between us as we just stare one another in the eyes, waiting for the other to speak.

"Gray, I-"

I cut myself short as Gray abruptly strides towards me confidently, raising his hands to cup my cheeks as I step back, unsure of what was happening. Staring down into my eyes, Gray smiles gently.

"You always were a cheeky one, sneaking your way into my heart the way you did".

My stomach fills with butterflies at that, a small smile making its way onto my face, accompanied by little giggles. Soon enough, I was laughing uncontrollably into Gray's chest, him onto my shoulder.

The laughter died down soon after, we were just left with warm smiles on our faces.

Moving his hand across my face, his thumb stroking my cheek and his other hand caressed the back of my neck, he looks down at my lips before looking into my eyes.

"May I?"

That one sentence had my stomach doing flips as though I were a schoolgirl who just confessed her undying love to her crush and received the same feelings back, though I guess in some respects I was that schoolgirl, just a little older.

"You may".

With that, Gray leans down, pressing his lips gently against mine and pulling away. I did not feel those fireworks that people would describe a true-loves kiss as, rather I felt complete, safe, happy, joyous, excited, calm, at peace and so many more pleasant things, much better than those so described fireworks.

Leaning in for a second kiss, I met Gray halfway with just as much passion, more ferocity this time, however. Soon though, we had to depart for air, a gentle blush growing over both of our cheeks.

"Carmen, I-"

"Excuse me, are you two alright in there? I could faintly hear you arguing from next door".

Looking behind me, there was an older woman stood in the doorway, a concerned look on her face.

"Yes, we are alright madame, thank you for your concern. Sorry for the noise, everything is sorted now" I explain, turning to face the woman.

"Very well then, there is no need to apologise my dear, as long as you are both okay. Oh, and sorry for interrupting your moment"

The lady giggles cheekily, before making her way back to her booth while rambling on about young love, or something along the lines.

"We should probably close the door, no?"

"Yes, we should. You, mister, have a lot to explain to me, especially what you have been up to since we last saw one another".

I smile as I leave Grays embrace, walking to the door and closing it.

"As do you. We have a while till we reach my destination, so shall we?"

"Hmm... I say sleep and then explain at a later time, on a date perhaps?"

"Friday, 8PM at Au Vieux Paris d'Arcole?" Grey wiggles his eyebrows, a smile on his face as he does so.

Laughter bubbles in my throat as I sniffle, wiping away any tear streams on my face as I nod my head eagerly.

"Call it a date".

A/N: This is my first ever oneshot/story piece that I've done on here and I honestly do not know how good it is, or how bad it is. All I can hope is that it's decent. It was inspired by @wizardsoffthecoast who had mentioned something about this, so here we are. I hope you enjoy it!

(I do apologise for any spelling mistakes!)

#carmen sandeigo netflix #red crackle #gray calloway #carmen x gray

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thedragonnerd · 4 years ago

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Rayaari headcanon - let's keep Disney magic with The Lion King AU

(inspired by this lovely anon)

To the people of Heart, Benja is their King, an admired ruler who is fair to his citizens and listens to their troubles. To Raya though, he is simply her father Ba, and one of her best friends.

Her mother passed away when Raya was young, but she has an uncle who lives at the palace. Raya can't actually remember his real name - his nickname has been 'Druun' for as long as she can remember.

The role of being a ruler does not particularly appeal to Raya at her young age. She much prefers to spend her time having adventures around Heart, much to the annoyance of her bodyguards.

Namaari is the Princess of Fang, Heart's neighbouring land and close ally. Raya has known her since they were babies, with Benja and Virana often holding diplomatic meetings. While these discussions are going on, Raya finds ways to drag Namaari into whatever important adventures she may find.

After one particularly chaotic visit to Fang, where Raya and Namaari had tried to climb out of the window in Namaari's room and ended up being caught on the roof instead, Benja wakes Raya early. He is determined to instill a sense of responsibility in her, and so he leads her up the great mountain in the darkness of the early morning. They arrive at the temple just as dawn is breaking, and together they watch the sun rise slowly across their lands.

'Over there is Fang,' he points to his right, and Raya peers into the distance. 'Everywhere the light touches is our land, Raya...our people of Heart. One day, the sun will set on my time here as leader, and rise with you as Queen instead. And you must be ready for it.'

Raya sweeps her gaze across the land of Heart, before it finally alights on a dark and shadowy speck on the horizon. 'What about that shadowy place?' she asks, intrigued. Benja grasps her shoulder tightly. 'That's beyond our borders, Raya, and into Spine territory. You must never go there.' The adventurous side of Raya can't help but be intrigued.

On her way back to the palace, Raya runs into her uncle, and can't help but mention this to him - interested to know if he'll share more information with her. 'Ah yes, the forests of Spine,' Druun mentions with a sneer. 'But your father is absolutely right! You must never go there, Raya. It's a beautiful land, covered with snow for much of the year, but only the most hardened of warriors can go there. It's far too dangerous for a little girl like you.'

Raya is both annoyed by the implication that she cannot face down a Spine warrior, and fascinated by the idea of the land's magical forests, which Heart children know only from stories.

Namaari and her mother are visiting Heart the following day, and Raya doesn't hesitate to grab her friend by the hand and drag her away from the adults. 'I have a really cool place to show you,' she whispers to Namaari.

They manage to evade their royal guards, and steal away after the midday meal, riding Namaari's serlot out to the borderland. When they slip across the boundary into a land of cold snow, tall trees, and a buzzing sense of magic in the air, Raya is entranced. She's so busy exploring her new surroundings that she doesn't notice the danger from three Spine warriors until Namaari tugs on her sleeve, an urgent 'Raya' hissed in her ear.

The Spine warriors are delighted to discover the children of their enemies standing right within their territory, and they attack before Raya and Namaari even have a chance to run. The two girls try to fight them off, but they don't have the skill to face down an entire group of adult warriors.

Suddenly, Benja and Virana arrive, alerted by an eagle-eyed scout, and fight back the Spine men with ease, dragging their daughters away. Once they are safely back in Heart territory, Benja turns his disappointment on Raya.

Virana takes Naamari back to Fang that very day, also angry at her own daughter. Raya feels terrible when she realizes Namaari could have gotten hurt or worse during their adventure, and can barely wave goodbye. Years later, she wishes she had hugged Namaari instead, not realizing it would be the last time she'd see her for a very long time.

A week later, Raya happens to cross paths with Druun, when he reaches out to stop her, sharp fingers digging into her shoulder. 'Your father's looking for you,' he says shortly. 'Something about wanting to train you to fight properly, after that Spine fiasco.' Raya is slightly hurt by the idea that she is a poor fighter, but she goes down to the empty training grounds to wait for her Ba.

Instead of Ba, she is set upon by an even larger group of Spine warriors, who have clearly entered Heart with deadly intent. She sprints back towards the palace, hearing their heavy breaths close behind her as she flees.

Benja flies past her in the other direction, sword already raised to meet them in combat. 'Raya, run!' he yells, and the fear in his voice makes her listen.

She turns back when she thinks she is at a safer distance, just in time to see Ba be kicked to the ground. One of the Spine warriors brings his blade swinging down, and she screams at the sight.

The invaders leave as soon as the deed is done, Benja lying prone on the ground. Raya stumbles over to him as fast as she can, ignoring the retreating backs of Spine for a moment. 'Ba?' she whispers, kneeling in the bloodied dirt beside him and grasping one of his hands. 'Ba? Please wake up.'

'Raya, what have you done?' Drunn says, appearing from behind her. 'Your little excursion into Spine must have brought them here for revenge. What will your people think...What will Fang think? You've just caused your father to be killed, and started a war.'

'I didn't mean to,' Raya sobs, dropping her forehead to rest on Benja's chest, with her fingers clenching at his clothes. 'What do I do?'

'Run,' Druun says. 'And never return.' Raya runs, still covered in her father's blood.

She can't bring herself to go to Fang; instead, she flees through Spine, narrowly avoiding their hunting parties, and then through Talon. It's only when she arrives in Tail, the farthest land she can be from Heart, that she can breathe properly. The heartbreak threatens to overwhelm her.

She's found in the midst of the Tail desert by Sisu, a loud but kind-hearted individual who immediately introduces Raya to the rest of her family, an eclectic group of outcasts in their own rights.

Years pass, and Raya makes herself a new home in Tail, alongside Sisu and the rest of her family. It's a simple life, and she does everything possible to forget her past, choosing to live always in the present instead.

During rare times where she does allow herself to reminisce, she can't help but miss Namaari fiercely as well as her Ba. She knows she will never see her friend again, but wishes they could have talked at least once more in life.

One day, Raya is out on a hunting trip, stalking her prey for a long time to find the perfect shot, when an arrow shoots out from behind her. Spinning around, she sees a beautiful young woman, carrying a crossbow.

'That was my dinner,' Raya says in annoyance, but the other woman just snorts. 'No way, binturi...this is all mine.'

The voice is so familiar, so Raya squints at her opponent for a second, before recognition suddenly springs to mind. '...'Maari?' she whispers, and she can see the moment Namaari recognizes her in return. She rushes to Namaari, who picks her up and spins her around before settling into an embrace, both of them talking excitedly over each other. 'I thought you were dead,' Namaari says, arms tight around Raya's waist.

Later, when they have calmed down, Namaari tells her she is on a mission to find food...and help. Heart is apparently in disarray, with Druun allowing Spine to bring in their own forces and use up many of the natural resources. Fang has held out against their desire for further expansion for now, but war between Heart/Spine and Fang is imminent.

'I will not let our people kill each other for the whims of a mad king,' Namaari tells her passionately. 'They are starving and desperate, and we need to find a way to remove Spine's influence from Heart. But Raya, this is perfect. You can return and challenge your uncle...Take your place as rightful leader of Heart.'

Raya feels sick to her stomach at the idea of returning to Heart, wanting more than anything to avoid facing her past and the blame that lies at her feet. But Namaari is a shining beacon in front of her, burning with a righteous passion about saving everyone. Raya never could say no to Namaari.

Raya and Namaari return together, riding side by side into the desolate wasteland that has befallen Heart, with Sisu and her siblings following not far behind. It hurts to be back home, especially seeing it in this state, and as Raya marches up the stairs to the palace, she draws strength from her anger.

'Raya, what a surprise to see you...alive,' Druun says, when she bursts into the throne room. His eyes glance towards the Spine warriors at his side.

'Uncle, stop whatever madness that has you waging wars against our allies, whilst our enemies now take from our lands as they choose,' Raya says, trying to appear strong, but Druun merely gestures his hand in order to amass his Spine fighters around him.

'I should have killed you and Benja with my own hands, rather leaving it to these imbeciles to do it for me,' Druun snaps, and then he is upon her with his sword. Raya fights back with everything she has, white-hot rage fueling her as she realizes what he means by those words.

But Druun is a seasoned warrior, with strong backup, and soon Raya finds herself surrounded.

'FOR HEART!' a yell sounds, and then Heart soldiers are streaming into the palace, accompanied by hundreds of Fang warriors, led by Namaari.

Spine soldiers are pushed back towards their own borders, although Raya pays little attention when she has Druun at the end of her blade. 'I should execute you for what you did to my father,' she snarls, but relaxes when she feels Namaari gently touch her shoulder. She watches instead as he is dragged away to prison, to await proper justice.

Heart is almost in ruins, her people hungry, desperate and lost, but Raya feels as if she can breathe again properly for the first time in years, just by being back.

There is a warmth by her side, and then Namaari is there, smiling down at her. 'Welcome home, dep la,' she says, and Raya reaches out to hold her hand.

#rayaari #raya and the last dragon #ratld #raya and namaari #raya #namaari #raya x namaari #namaari might not be from Heart #but they are her allies #so she will be damned if Fang and Heart start to kill each other #Lion King AU #back to the headcanoooons

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fandomscombine · 4 years ago

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The Hargreeves Kerfuffle Part 1 : Disastrous Childhood (Prologue)

TUA Series Part 1: Disastrous Childhood

The Hargreeves siblings x Hargreeves!Reader (Familial Relationship)

An idea came to me at 2am after binging TUA S2 and rewatching S1 right after!

BG: The Reader is Number Eight. It follows how you fit into the structure of Season 1 and the family dynamic of the siblings.

This part follows when the young Hargreeves Siblings had their powers manifested and the development of The Umbrella Academy.

Contains: Sibling Angst and Fluff. Reginald being a crappy father but sometimes not really?

The series will consist of 10 parts. Where the reader would have a focused interaction with each sibling. (Eg. After this part, it would be Luther x Reader, then Diego x Reader and so on! –Yes Ben is included)

WC:2649

A/N: This is my first ever TUA fic and I’m doing a series. WOw ambitious I know. Anyways I hope you enjoy! And tell me how you feel about it!

>>MASTERLIST<<

>>THE HARGREEVES KERFUFFLE SERIES MASTERLIST<<

READ: [PART 2] [PART 3] [PART 4]

>>JOIN MY WRITING CHALLENGE!<<

On October 1, 1989, 43 women across the globe gave birth despite them not being pregnant when the day began. In news of this mysterious happenings, Sir Reginald Hargreeves immediately went out of his way to find as many of these special babies. He has successfully adopted 8 of these children and you were one of them.

One might think that when a person adopts not one, but eight kids would have so much love to give but they would be mistaken. Sir Reginald Hargreeves—Dad, was not a loving father. It would be a miracle for one to see the man show any other emotion apart from anger. Sir Reginald Hargreeves was distant and treated the children like they were experiments that the dynamic felt closer to a doctor/patient relationship. The children weren’t given actual names, only to be called by their numbers based on the order Sir Reginald Hargreeves had procured them. It was only when Grace, their robot mother insisted they have a real name, were the children given them. And so, the children were:

Number One - Luther Hargreeves

Number Two – Diego Hargreeves

Number Three – Allison Hargreeves

Number Four – Klaus Hargreeves

Number Five – Five Hargreeves

Number Six – Ben Hargreeves

Number Seven – Vanya Hargreeves

And finally,

Number Eight - y/n Hargreaves

For 6 years, the only special thing about the children was that they were miraculously conceived and birthed within a day, the same day. However, on the 7th year , October 1 1996, more strange things started to happen to the children.

It first started with Ben at breakfast. Dad as usual is cold and strict more so in the early morning. ‘Sit up straight Number Six.’ He directed without even a glance up from his newspaper at hand.

‘Yes Sir.’

Beside him you place your hand on his and whispered, ‘You alright Ben? You look sick.’

He gulped. ‘Yea y/n.’ Wiping the cold sweat off his forehead.

‘You sure?’ you questioned, not buying it.

‘Umhmm never bett-----’

You expected vomit to come out but what happen next is something you would never though was possible.

Screams broke out everywhere.

You feel yourself being raised above the table. Looking down, you were 5 feet off the ground held by what seemed to be tentacles.

‘Take that!’ You hear some shout then a thud. Diego had brought down a knife to the tentacle that had suffocated him and in now laying on the floor covered in green blood.

The sight finally snapped you out of your shock, your fight or flight reflexes kicked in.

A quick sweep of your surroundings showed Five and Klaus on either side of you, they too are struggling with the ever-tightening grip of the monstrous arm.

While on the ground, Vanya and Allison are making their way to Ben in hopes of helping him control whatever all this that was coming out of his body. While Luther is fighting off the arms away from Diego who seem to have broken his leg from the fall.

Dad, Mom and Pogo are nowhere to be seen.

You move your head to the left, knowing that Klaus doesn’t do well in small spaces. ‘Klaus it’s okay buddy, Dad would find a way to fic this. Just breathe’ You choked out ‘Just breathe Klaus, everything’s gonna be alright.’

‘mmmm!’ That was Klaus’ only reply but you were thankful to see him to fidget less. He seemed to have taken your advice – how much of the second part of that advice be true, you genuinely don’t know.

You try to move your head to face the right towards Five but no dice. The arm was wrapping itself closer to your neck. ‘Five’ you call out, but it was barely a whisper. ‘five..’

‘Y/N!!’ Five’s scream was the last thing you heard before everything went black.

‘She’s broken a couple of ribs and sprained her neck. But’s she’s gonna be okay. Just needs time to rest.’

‘And how long would that time Pogo?’

‘She would need to say in bed for 2 to 3 months, Sir.’

You open your eyes and are greeted with blinding white light. Dad, Mom and Pogo surround your bed.

Grace tucks a stray hair behind you ear. ‘My baby, y/n. How are you feeling?’

‘Sore.’ You reply, noting the coarse sound of your voice. ‘How’s Ben? Klaus? Vanya?—’

Grace cut you off. ‘They’re all fine y/n. Though Ben is a bit roughed up.’ She says truthfully.

‘Number Six has appeared to have powers of summoning monsters with his body and he is currently under supervision.’ Reginald stated.

But something didn’t fit right. ‘But how did you calm him down? The whole fiasco back there was in total chaos?’ Voicing out all your thoughts and questions. ‘No one could get him to take back control, unless…..’ You couldn’t continue the thought. Your eyes go wide. There was no way. It was too harsh, but it was dad after all, he would do whatever means necessary to get what he wants.

Your dad smiles proudly ‘Ah yes. Y/n ever the cleverest of the bunch.’ You had observed that he had addressed you in your actual name instead of your number for the first time in your whole existence. ‘Unfortunately, I had to sedate Number Six. You do understand that it was the only way.’

You open your mouth to argue.

‘No buts, Number Eight!’ Ah and now we’re back to number, you thought.

‘I’ll have Grace by you side whist you recover and Pogo here would relay your recovery progress to me daily.’

He was almost to your door when he faced you again. ‘Oh and Number Eight, When you feel something different or unusual. Do inform me of it immediately.’ And with that he left.

‘Pogo? What does he mean by feel different?’ Your nerves go up, worried about your siblings. ‘Is anyone hurt?’

Pogo sighs, after much contemplation he begins ‘Y/n dear. Today’s happenings uncovered that there are stranger yet special things about you children.’

You nod, not wanting to interrupt but also wishing he would hurry up and continue.

‘Ben isn’t the only one who have gotten powers today. During the kerfuffle, Diego has shown skill with a knife, Luther immense strength and Five had shown ability to teleport.’

Once again you found yourself in shock.

‘Your father has gotten the idea that you children have varying power wish are “activated” so to speak when reached the age of 7.’

‘Haha-OW’ You clutch your side.

‘Careful y/n, try not to do sudden movements—yes and that includes laughing too.’ Mom says, caressing your cheek.

‘When can I see them?’

‘I’ll try to persuade Reggie to allow them for a visit dear. But now I need you to rest.’

Sibling Visits are limited to 30 mins a day, right before the bedtime curfew.

All your siblings (expect Ben who was still under strict supervision and is recovering himself) came to see you the following night.

Allison was the first one through your door and ran to give you a hug. ‘Y/n! We are all so worried!’

‘Aww thanks—OW OW OW’

‘Oops sorry’ releasing you from her death grip of a hug.

Seeing that movements still hurt you. The rest opted not to hug you, Klaus and Diego held your hand, Vanya is sitting on the edge of you bed, Luther gave you forehead a quick kiss and Five being Five, greeted you with the typical sibling teasing. ‘Glad to see you not drop dead in front of me.’

Diego showed off his leg cast and asked you to sign it, which you happily did so. Signing ‘Badass as always. -y/n’ beside Ben’s note of ‘Diego is cooler than Batman’

The 30 minutes consisted recaps of what happened the day before, the gushing of the boys showcasing their powers and debating on who’s the most powerful.

And just like that, the time was up and each had to go to bed. Everyone kissed your head for goodnights, even Five.

‘You know I love you right?’ His eyes softer than you ever seen before

‘I know’

‘You really scared me yesterday when you blacked out.’ Five had his tough façade down. ‘I thought you died y/n.’

‘But I didn’t.’ You reach up to wipe his tears away. ‘It’d take something bigger, if you wanna get rid of me.’

He chuckled. ‘Night, y/n’

‘Good night, Five.’

3 weeks had passed, and your siblings never failed to visit you. Over that time, Klaus and Allison had manifested their powers. Klaus can conjure the dead while Allison could ‘rumor’ people to her will.

Ben came by 2 weeks later. His color is back to normal, not like the blueish tint it had the last time you saw him. Though he still had a few remnants of bruises and scars across his arms and face.

‘I’m sorry y/n.’ He said leaning on your door frame.

‘Ben!’ You exclaimed. ‘I’m so glad you’re back up and running!’

Ben was caught off guard. ‘You—You’re not mad at me?’

‘Why would I be mad at you?’ You questioned, genuinely confused at your brother’s words.

‘Cause, Cause I almost got you killed. I am a monster.’

You sat up straight at those words, your ribs hurt a bit at the sudden movement, but you didn’t care. Your brother was blaming himself for something he couldn’t have controlled.

‘NO BEN!’

Ben jumped from your sudden outburst.

You motioned for him to come closer.

‘Ben…’ looking into his eyes. ‘Ben you are no monster.’

‘But—’

‘uuh uh I’m not done’ You held his hand in yours. ‘You are no monster what happened then was an accident, nobody knew, heck nobody expected powers to just show up. It was beyond anyone’s control. It took us by surprise.’

His shoulders relaxed.

‘It wasn’t your fault. I don’t blame you for what happened.’

He gave you a bone crushing hug. ‘Thank you y/n. You don’t know how guilty I was feeling.’ Voice muffled by your shoulder, which is now wet with his tears. ‘I kept thinking about the pain I caused you and I wasn’t allowed to leave my room even when I begged dad to see you and say sorry. y/n’

‘Shhh shhh’ Rubbing his back. ‘It’s alright Ben. What’s important is that we’re all here now. Alive, Safe and sound.’.

You still have a month left for recovery.

Only you and Vanya are the one left who haven’t had their powers revealed.

Dad had created a group called ‘The Umbrella Academy’ in which he trained your super powered siblings. He even given them codenames to go along with their newfound powers.

Number One - Luther Hargreeves aka Spaceboy

Number Two – Diego Hargreeves aka The Kraken

Number Three – Allison Hargreeves aka The Rumor

Number Four – Klaus Hargreeves aka The Séance

Number Five – Five Hargreeves aka The Boy

Number Six – Ben Hargreeves aka The Horor

With this new training program comes with the downside of spending less time with your siblings. Your traditional Sunday afternoon sister bonding time Allison and Vanya is basically non-existent now. Sure the rest of siblings still drop by to check up on how you’re recovering but it is not as frequency as they once were- you totally understand though, it must be tiring to be part of ‘The Umbrella Academy’ but girl were you still hurt and wanted more than anything to be a part of it.

So, you spend most of your time with Vanya nowadays. You didn’t mind, it is nice to have someone along. Most of the time Vanya practices her violin in your room.

‘That was beautiful Vanny’ you commented after she finished a rendition.

‘Thanks y/n’ Her face flushed. ‘Maybe someday I’d be a famous violinist!’

‘I know you would.’ You say truthfully. ‘And I better get the best seats at your concerts okay? Nothing short of VIP treatment for your favourite sister!’

‘Don’t worry, I’ll make sure Allison would get that.’ Vanya teased.

Placing a hand dramatically to your chest ‘uhh I am offended! I thought I was your favourite sister!’

‘well... you thought wrong.’ Vanya tried to keep a straight face but failed. ‘You y/n are the VVIP guest!’

‘Now that’s more like it.’

That night you were tossing and turning in your bed.

In the training room, huge boulders were being tossed onto Luther’s back. He currently had 3 on him. ‘More’ he cried. It was an impressive feat to see. A 7-year-old carry the what had to be at least 5 times his weight.

It was at his 6th block when his legs start to shake.

‘Straighten up Number One!’ Reginald voice came through the speakers.

‘I-I’

‘Fix your posture! And stop babbling!’

He was trembling all over, the weight was far too much and carried far too long for just a young boy.

Any second now, he is gonna be crushed by the boulders.

‘LUTHER!’ You screamed. Cold sweat was plastered all over your face. You were still in your room- but it all felt so real.

You look over to your bedside table, 9:07

Training would have started an hour ago. You had time.

You took the stairs two at a time, bursting into the training room. ‘STOP’

Reginald stood from his seat. ‘Number Eight. What in the world are you doing here?’

‘STOP! Luther is gonna get hurt please stop it--.’ Ignoring his question.

‘Number Eight, what are you talking about? Number One is doing perfectly fine!’ He gestured towards the front.

He was right. Luther looks fine. In fact it looked like it was carrying a light backpack instead of 3 boulders. ‘But- But I saw—’ Then it hit you 3 boulders. 3 not 6.

‘More’ You heard him cried out, just like you had in your nightmare.

You stared at Luther, how could this be?

‘I saw him sir, he is gonna collapse from 6 boulders.’

At this, Reginald took interest. ‘You saw?’

‘Yes, I-I must have dreamt it.’ You slumped against the free chair, defeated. ‘but it felt so real.’

‘Let me everything you saw, and don’t miss a single detail’

And so, you did. By the time you finished, Luther was with his 6th block.

It was exactly like how things went down in your dream. ‘No No NOOOO!’

‘Release him!’ Reginald called at the last second. Standing he faced you. ‘Now y/n dear would you please come with me.’

He didn’t speak again until you were both in his office. ‘It seems to me Number Eight that your powers have finally manifested.’

‘what—’

‘A slight delay compared to your siblings, but I presume that it was due to you recovering from your injuries that your body had focus on your recovery first then powers.’

‘What about Vanya? Would she have powers?’

‘It seems that Number Seven has no powers gained.’ Standing in front of you. ‘But no matter now, what’s important is that you’ve got them.’ He placed his hands on your shoulders. ‘You would do great things Number Eight. To see into the future is a valuable asset to have indeed. For this I shall name you Foresight.’

This was it! You own codename!

Number Eight - y/n Hargreaves aka Foresight.

‘I’m gonna be part of The Umbrella Academy?’ Overjoyed by your father taking pride in you that every other thought left your concern.

‘Yes Foresight. You will.’ Standing straight again. ‘However, your training would only start once you have fully recovered.’

‘Thanks Dad.’ Hugging him and for once showed the affection back.

You wish you could say that it was at this point where you and your siblings finally gotten a loving and healthy childhood. But you were wrong. Things only deteriorated from here on out with the Hargreeves household and by extension the dissolve of The Umbrella Academy.

END OF PART 1

READ: [PART 2] [PART 3] [PART 4]

Taglist [All]: @gruffle1

Taglist [TUA]: @herecomesthesun1969 @ultraviolet-m @winterierwriter @lordofthunderthr @alabaster1223

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woah-were-halfway-there · 4 years ago

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Mia’s First Game

A/N: as requested, here’s the little blurb that I originally was going to post the other day but didn’t. Enjoy!

Masterlist

Word Count: 2.2k

With Mia being born at the end of January and the Leafs' season getting cut short at the beginning of May that year after a brief playoff run, she still hadn't been to a game. She was only three months old when the season finished, and although the thought of taking her to one of the games definitely crossed your mind, with how she was in the routine of falling asleep around 7pm every night, it just wasn't possible. However, as summer came and went, you knew you'd be taking Mia to her first NHL game to watch her dad once the season started back up again, and you were pretty excited about it.

The original plan was to take Mia to the Saturday game after the first home game of the season that took place earlier in the week. Auston's family was flying into Toronto on the Friday, so you and Mia would go to the game with them the following evening. However, shortly after Auston left to head down to SBA for the home-opener, that changed.

While talking on the phone with Steph, who was getting ready with a couple of the other wives and girlfriends of players, you became convinced not to spend your night at home. The girls booked a booth at SBA to all get-together and watch the game as a way to celebrate the new season starting, and of course, you and Mia were invited. But you kept declining because you were so set on attending Saturday's game, although you really had no reason not to go to both.

At eight months old, Mia was full of energy, and you knew she'd have a ton of fun hanging out with the other girls that she's come to know, all while cheering on Auston and the rest of the guys. You weren't sure why you didn't agree to just go in the first place regardless of whether you'd have to leave a little early and take Mia home, but the more you talked to Steph, the more you became convinced that you should.

However, with you being, well, you, there was no way you were going to start getting ready without talking to Auston's family first, seeing as you knew they were excited about going to the game with Mia on Saturday. They immediately told you not to worry about them and to go have fun with your friends, but not without mentioning how they'd be watching for Auston's reaction to one he realized you and Mia were there.

The thought of seeing your husband's surprised expression after noticing that his two girls were at the game made you smile, and you became even more excited as you quickly packed up your things, then grabbed Mia and left to go over and get ready at Steph and Mitch's place.

About two hours later, you and Mia were all dressed in your matching Matthews jerseys and were ready to go. It was great catching up with all the other wives and girlfriends that you hadn't gotten to see since your wedding at the end of July because after that, you got sucked into everything involved with moving from the downtown condo to your new house. You also met and welcomed some of the new girls that recently moved to Toronto with their man for the new season as well, all of whom were lovely.

Mia was having a great time too, and just by seeing how happy she was, you knew that you made the right call about going to the game. But, soon enough, it was time to go. After the whole group took some pictures in their jerseys, including Steph stealing Mia for some pics with her goddaughter, you all headed downtown together so you could watch your guys in action.

Upon arriving at the arena, your whole group went to the suite that was booked out for you girls to drop off your things, then you, Mia, and Steph headed to the Platinum Club so the three of you could be let up to the glass one warmups started. You chatted with a worker who was going to escort the three of you to the rinkside just as the Leafs took to the ice, as Mia babbled away in your arms and took in her surroundings.

Soon enough, the team was announced, and the crowd started going wild. You and Steph then followed the worker down the hall and walked right up the glass before waiting and watching as the guys took the ice. You could hear fans nearby talking and mentioning pointing out that Auston's wife and daughter were there, which made you a little nervous because Mia has never really been so in the public eye before. But, your nerves soon melted away.

"Mom, they're wearing Matthews jerseys like us," You heard a small voice speak up, then glanced over to where two kids were sitting with their parents. The little girl appeared to be maybe six or seven. Meanwhile, her brother seemed a bit younger. With how she was glancing up at who you assumed was her mom, obviously looking for a response, you knew that she was the one who mentioned the jerseys.

"Yes, honey," the mother replied. "That's Auston's family. They're here to watch the game just like we are."

Your heart swelled so much watching their interaction, and you could feel yourself getting a little emotional because of it. Steph chuckled slightly as she watched you but also had to admit that it was all pretty cute too.

Then another voice spoke up.

"Is this your little one's first game?" An older man who was sitting in the row behind the family asked you.

"It is," you confirmed with a smile, then glanced down at your daughter. "Except we decided to come last minute, so her dad doesn't even know we're here yet. Can you say hi, Mia?"

Mia squealed in response, then got all smiley, which made those sitting nearby laugh and awe a bit at just how cute she was.

"Your daughter is beautiful," a different woman stated, making you feel even more emotional than before.

"Thank you," you responded. "I still haven't fully accepted the fact that she looks more like Auston than she does me, but I'll get over it."

"Speaking of Auston, here he comes," said another person, but you didn't even get the chance to see who because you were turning back around to face the rink just as your husband skated down from centre ice and took a shot on net.

He scored, then skated over to the boards a little bit behind the net to where Mitch, John and Willy were all standing. They talked for a few seconds before Will's gaze drifted in your direction until he spotted you, Steph and Mia, a smile stretching across his mouth as he did so.

Will then nudged both Auston and Mitch, then pointed to where you were standing so they could see too.

Upon locking eye contact with you, Auston's face lit right up, and it wasn't long before he and Mitchy were both skating over to the corner.

There was no way the two of you would've been able to hear each other through the glass, so instead, Auston gave you a look as he approached, showing that he was surprised to see you there. He also expressed that he wasn't mad about it as he winked at you and grinned cheekily.

Once the two guys reached the glass, they started waving at Mia, and much to your surprise, she immediately recognized them even in all their hockey gear.

"Da-da," she said and then reached towards the glass. Acting fast, you shifted her in your hold and lifted her so that she'd stand on the little ledge around the boards and be face to face with Auston. "Da-da!"

Mia's smile grew even wider as she stared at her dad and banged on the glass a little bit while he waved at her and blew her kisses. You then looked at your cousin as he stood next to your husband and couldn't help but smile at how he was smiling so widely as he watched Mia and Auston.

Mitch then looked at you and gave you a knowing look as if to say you better not leave before he gets the chance to see his goddaughter after the game. You nodded in understanding, which made his smile grow even wider.

However, soon enough, the moment had to come to an end because Auston and Mitch both had a game to play. It wasn't until then that you noticed the Leafs photographer only a few feet away as well and knew that he had just captured that little moment forever.

Auston and Mitchy then waved bye to you, Mia and Steph before going back to the rest of the team to finish up their warmups and get ready to start the game.

Mark, the team photographer, then approached the three of you to show you the images he took. There was one of you holding Mia while facing the fans with your backs to the camera that showcased your Matthews jerseys, another of you, Mia and Steph, all standing together looking very happy as you waited for your guys. And then the last one, which was probably your favourite, was a closeup of Mia and Auston as they smiled at each other through the glass, then had you in the background looking at the two of them and smiling fondly. It was adorable, and Mark assured that he'd send the pictures to you and Auston once he edited them.

After that, the three of you headed back to the booth, but not without saying bye to the Leafs fans you chatted with and told them you hoped they enjoyed the game.

Everyone welcomed you back excitedly at the suite before you all settled in and got ready to watch your guys play their first game of the season.

The Leafs ended up winning, which had the energy in the arena feeling insane but in the best way possible. On top of it, Auston scored two of the goals, which helped result in the team's 4-3 victory over Calgary.

By the end of the game, Mia was very tired. However, she wasn't getting fussy. She just continued fighting so hard to keep her eyes open and enjoyed her time being around people she was comfortable within this entirely new setting.

As everyone began clearing out of their seats, your whole group went back down to the Platinum Club and waited for the guys. Steph carried Mia all the way there, but after a few minutes, Mia began reaching for you because whenever she got exhausted, she only wanted her parents and would become overly snuggly.

Once you took her from Steph, she immediately clung to you and leaned against your shoulder while you assured her that you'd be going home very soon.

A few minutes later, the guys started filing into the waiting area, all happy to see their significant others and families as they greeted them after their big win. As you waited for Auston, you spotted Mitchy first, and he wasted no time coming over to say hi to Mia but was also very respectful of the fact that she was exasperated.

Not long after that, Auston entered the room and smiled so wide again once he laid eyes on you and Mia.

"There's my girls," he greeted happily as he approached the two of you, then took Mia from your hold, awing as she let out a yawn and immediately snuggled against him. "You tired, mini?"

"She's very tired, but she's trying hard to stay awake at the moment," you explained, then smiled as Auston wrapped his other arm around your waist and pulled you in for a kiss.

"And how are you feeling, baby mama? This was your first big night out with Mia, and I must say, you both sure made my night by being here."

You rolled your eyes at his baby mama comment but couldn't help the blush that burned your cheeks at the rest of what he said.

"You're making it sound like I don't have a life, babe. But I'm good. Really glad I decided to bring Mia out tonight. We had a lot of fun, didn't we, sweet girl?"

Mia didn't respond. You didn't expect her to, especially with her minimal vocabulary. Instead, she mindlessly brought her hand up to her mouth and began sucking on it, then using her other hand to rub her cheek. She'd been teething like crazy lately, and those actions were what she did when her mouth was beginning to bother her.

You and Auston looked at each other knowingly after that because you both knew how if she were in discomfort, mixed with how she was already so exhausted, things would get real messy real soon. So, without even having to agree on it, you both started saying your goodbyes and headed home.

Deep down, you knew that night would probably be a little rough with Mia and trying to get her to sleep comfortably, but you weren't worried. You were so content and knew that Mia also had a good night out, so it was worth it. And besides, you didn't have to do it alone. Auston was there too, he wasn't going anywhere, and you knew you'd get through whatever else your little family needed to face together.

#nhl fanfiction #nhl imagines #auston matthews imagine #auston matthews fanfiction #nhl imagine #toronto maple leafs imagine #nhl rpf #nhl headcanon #hockey fanfiction #hockey rpf #hockey imagine #auston matthews imagines #a. matthews #nhl writing

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ashintheairlikesnow · 4 years ago

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Christmas Specials: Angel

CW: Implied past parental death, referenced past torture/noncon, memory loss and grief

"It, it should be an, um, a, a-a an angel," Chris says, gazing up at the star on top of the tree. It gleams a warm yellow to match the special lights that wind through the branches, the soft smell of pine and wood. The ornaments weigh it down, a multitude of old childhood things Nat brought with her twenty years ago, plus new ornaments added over time by every rescue who has lived here through Christmas and even a few who didn’t.

Chris picked his out at Hallmark with Nat last week. He chose a little cardinal on a snowy tree branch with a scarf and earmuffs on. He doesn’t know why. But he runs one finger over the top of its little head in thought.

Nat, crouching down by the bright red, gigantic rubbermaid with Christmas Ornaments + whatever else written on the lid in big black sharpie letters, looks up. “What?”

Chris keeps petting the little porcelain cardinal with one finger, staring up at the star. “Why isn't it, um, an, an angel, Nat?”

"Not sure exactly. I've always done a star," Nat replies, carefully choosing a small ornament shaped like a horse in mid-gallop, covered in elaborately carved and painted Western tack. She slips the little hook into the small metal ring on the horse’s back and hangs it in an empty spot on the tree, smiling.

She looks over to see an expression of something like upset on Chris's face, his eyebrows furrowed, bouncing uncertainly on his toes. "It, it should be an angel," He repeats, insistent. “It, it should be. Um, an… an angel. A star isn’t-... isn’t, isn’t right. It should be, be, be-be-be… should be-, an, an angel.”

His voice drops a little, and he picks at the hem of his oversized t-shirt with one hand, rocking a little until Nat puts a hand to his shoulder and he stops.

"Chris, is this bothering you? That it’s a star?” Nat and Jake meet eyes where he's hanging garland along the mantle, knowing later Nat will go all-in on her Midwestern roots and pull out the Christmas-themed baskets to decorate it.

“It’s not right,” Chris says, even more firmly this time. He shakes his head, rocking again, forward and back. “It’s, it’s always supposed to be, to be angels.” He makes a soft sound of frustration, hands moving up to his hair, twisting into the copper, yanking hard. “Supposed, supposed to be-”

Nat takes his hands in hers and gently lowers them again, pressing his palms into his stomach. “Tap, Chris. Don’t pull your hair out, please. Let’s do the ones that don’t hurt, okay?”

He doesn’t answer her, but he starts up the familiar movements of his fingers, finger-twist-tap-tap-tap, and he doesn’t go for his hair again. “Angels,” He mumbles. “Should be a, um, angel on the, the, the tree. Didn’t have a tree the, the last time, we were-... gonna go, go get the tree after Thanksgiving, it, um, it was-...”

The room is perfectly still as he falls silent, rocking harder.

"Did you-...” Nat is quiet for a moment, deciding where to take this line of questioning, what is the safest way to ask. “Are you… used to angels, Chris? Did you have an angel tree-topper as a kid?”

He’s still a kid.

He’s still so young.

Chris isn’t looking at her, still rocking a little, looking up at the star, gnawing on a chapped spot of skin on his lower lip that he’s already managed to make bleed this week. He pinches his finger and thumb around a few pine needles, releasing their scent even more strongly into the air. "She, she always did angels,” He whispers.

Then he winces, cries out in pain, and the moment's gone, along with the memory. They hold him through the headache until it passes, through his tears, but he’s never able to explain.

Within a half an hour he’s forgotten he ever mentioned angels at all, forgotten anything but the awful spike of pain the headache brings on the heels of any thought or memory they aren’t allowed to have.

She refuses to be frustrated - this is a common part of memory recovery in rescues, how things seem to come and go, slipslide through their minds. It’ll come back, sooner or later. She has to believe that - and that even if it doesn’t, it doesn’t matter, they still deserve the new memories to be their own.

Every time he walks past the tree, though - as Nat’s presents for her rescues start to build up, and she takes each of them out to find gifts to give Jake and their fellow rescues, too - his eyes don’t linger on the somewhat haphazardly wrapped boxes.

They go to the star.

She gives Jake a few twenties from her wallet and tells him to go shopping. He sheepishly pulls out the small red box he’d already bought, five steps ahead of her when it comes to Chris as usual.

They wrap the box together.

On Christmas Eve, Nat insists on cooking, while Antoni hovers nervously around her and offers, time and time again, to do whatever he can to help. She refuses, but lets him set the table before having Jake take him outside to sit down with a drink and watch the Christmas lights. It seems to calm the part of Antoni that needs always to be serving, the part they are trying so hard to get him to drop.

Chris wanders through the dining room on his way, getting himself some lemonade in the kitchen and giving her a hug. Krista is moving into her own place in the next month or so and she heads out onto the porch, too, making the most of her last few days in the house. Even Leila, quiet watchful thoughtful Leila, finds her way out there, too.

Which leaves Nat in the kitchen putting together everything she remembers from her own childhood.

It’s a feast.

Beef tips out of the oven with gravy and thick, chewy noodles, little sausages in a crockpot with grape jelly and barbecue sauce, corn casserole more like savory pudding than anything else, scalloped potatoes that have as much cheese as they do actual potatoes, a salad to pretend anyone’s getting nutritional value out of this, queso dip that comes cheap out of a glass jar with tortilla chips, chopped fruit tossed with sugar… this one day each year, Nat lets herself indulge in what she grew up with, what she misses about home.

Once it’s all ready, she calls them back in. She watches Chris’s eyes widen as he enters first, seeing how she’s pulled out the extra eaves to extend the table, the sheer weight of the food that has taken her three full days of work to put together, the seasonal plastic tablecloth and placemats under every single plate.

“Chris, you’ll sit right here,” She says warmly, putting her hand against the back of one of the chairs.

He moves immediately - then hesitates, going still, glancing over his shoulder back at Jake, who smiles back, reassuring. When his eyes go back to his seat, Nat watches him tapping on himself, soothing his sudden jangling nerves. Not grabbing at his hair or scratching himself. Good sign. “Nat, what’s-... what’s, what’s that?”

She moves away to give him space. “What’s what, honey?”

“The, um, the… the the, the box. On my plate. What, what is it for?” He’s trusting, her youngest rescue, like all of them and yet even more than most. He wasn’t meant to have thoughts or skills outside the horrors that he was held for, didn’t develop himself enough to run, he hadn’t gotten a sense that his world wasn’t right enough to develop his own sense of self. That started here, in this house, under Nat’s protection.

She doesn’t take this responsibility, to help him mold himself into someone he will want to be, lightly.

He’s trusting, but in this moment, he’s unsure. She wonders how many times he has been given gifts that hurt, that were designed to hurt.

“One last thing for the tree. Open up and find out.”

“But, but Christmas is, is um, is, is tomorrow.”

“Oh, honey.” He loves when she calls him that, every endearment - except sweetheart and darling, and those she has gathered were weapons, once, used against him - and he flushes, looking down and smiling a little, red hair drifting over his eyes. “I never take my tree down before New Year’s. One year I got it late and we kept that sucker up until Valentine’s Day. Go ahead and open the box.”

His fingers are so long and delicate, as he carefully works up the tape that keeps one end of the box closed. Slipping it open comes easily enough, working the styrofoam packing on the inside out is a little more difficult. The squeak of styrofoam against cardboard makes him grit his teeth and Nat herself winces.

But then it’s out, and he lays the square of crumbling white styrofoam down on the paper, carefully lifting the top half away to reveal what it was protecting inside.

His eyes widen, and he reaches out, touching a rough-edged tinsel halo wrapped around a wire, running one finger down from the top of a porcelain forehead to the tip of a gently wrought nose, the cupid’s-bow lips, rounded hair. He looks up at Nat as his fingers find the stiff, scratchy fabric of the figurine’s cream-and-gold robes. “An, angel? Nat?”

“For the tree, Chris. You said you wanted an angel.” Nat moves back to lay a hand in the center of his back, and he leans to the side, his head tucking into the crook of her neck like always. “Jake and I figured opening one present on Christmas Eve wouldn’t be so bad. D’you want to put it up?”

“Yes,” He says, in a low soft voice. “She, um, she, she… she she… she always had angels, on the, um, the tree.”

“Chris, can I ask?” She rests her chin atop his head, his fine soft hair tickling her skin. “Who is she? Who are you talking about?”

He shakes his head a little, like shaking water out of his ears. “I, I don’t know.” It’s a confession, admission of guilt, more than an answer. “I don’t, don’t, don’t know who. But… but I know she had, had an angel, she said she bought it when, um, when when I was a, a, a a a a baby…”

Mother, then, most likely. She and Jake make eye contact, and he nods, stepping out of the room to go write it down. Every single memory, no matter how slight, could help them put enough together to find whoever might be looking for him out there. And it gives Dr. Berger a place to start delicately working out what is hidden under all the scar tissue in their minds.

“She threw it, it, it away,” Chris mutters, eyes closed. “With, with everything else.”

“Your mom did?”

“No. Some... someone else.”

“Well, let’s get the angel up there, then,” Nat says gently, as Chris slides his arms around her waist. His voice is going ragged, and she needs to pull him back from the edge before he tips over into the light. “Then all you hungry people can eat.”

“Aren’t you, you hungry? You’ve been cooking all, all, all, all all day.”

“All days. But no, I’ve tasted a little of everything already. Come on, then-”

The door blows open in a bluster of wind and Kauri steps in, cheeks red from the hint of chill in the air, blue eyes warm and sparkling. He looks better today than he did last week - Nat wonders, briefly, if he’s been staying with someone, instead of trying to sleep in park bathrooms or the cold. “Am I late for dinner?”

“Not at all, Kauri. Will Keira be joining us?”

Keira does not consume, comes a muffled voice from inside Kauri’s backpack. He grins and drops it in the entryway, unzipping to take the Roomba out and set it on the coffee table where visual sensors can take in the tree.

He glances back at the rest of them, and asks brightly, “What’s for dinner? Smells… huh.” He pauses, looks at the table. A strange look passes over his face, like a man seeing someone he knows but can’t quite place. “It smells really good in here.”

“I should hope so. Can you help Chris switch the star on the tree out for this? It’s brand new.” She picks the angel up out of the styrofoam and Chris grabs it from her, moving into the living room with it held in his hands like something infinitely precious and breakable.

Something so easily lost.

“Cool, an angel.” Kauri cocks his head to the side. “Why’d you get that?”

“Because,” Chris says, with earnest sincerity, and a little sadness. “It’s always, um, supposed to, to, to be an angel. It was always a, an angel before.”

Kauri - and Jake, who reappears shortly after to give his many inches of height to assist them - helps Chris get the angel light up on the tree, warm glow emanating from its robes, and Chris declares it better, now.

He murmurs to himself, “She’d, she’d like it better with an angel.”

No one asks him what he said, or to elaborate.

By the time he’s on his second helping of dinner, he’s forgotten that the thought ever passed his mind.

But Nat hasn’t.

---

Tagging: @burtlederp, @finder-of-rings, @endless-whump, @whumpfigure, @slaintetowhump, @astrobly @newandfiguringitout , @doveotions , @pretty-face-breaker, @boxboysandotherwhump , @oops-its-whump @moose-teeth , @cubeswhump , @cupcakes-and-pain @whump-tr0pes @whumpiary @orchidscript, @itallcomesdowntopain

#whump #christmas specials #chris the strawberry blond romantic #jake the shelter guy #memory loss #bbu #box boy universe #box boy #rescued whumpee #trauma recovery whump #natalie yoder: here to help the rescues #referenced noncon #brief and vague but still #grief tw #vague parental death reference

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