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oh-saints · 2 years ago

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sunshine becomes you (pt. 2)

Despite his young age, Martin's the captain for the Arsenal for a reason. He's calm and collected most of the time and opponents rarely could ever entice any provoking display of emotion from him. But there's one person in London Colney that rubs him in all the wrong way... yet he wants to help her?

Grumpy!Martin Ødegaard x Sunshine!OC

Word count: 3.5k

Note: turns out i can't put the words into 2-part stories so here we go, it's turning into a mini series! (is this a good news for you, odegirlies?) but it won't be longer than 5-part, though, as i'm working on the ending as we speak. oh and beware of the dialogues that's spiking in number than in pt. 1. but as usual, i happen to write this at dawn so this is ofc not proof-read. feedbacks are also always welcome! hope you like them as much as i like writing them!

sunshine becomes you masterlist here

Tags: @julianalvarez9 @notleclerc <3 (lemme know if you want to be included!)

“Eve,”

The owner of the name jumped in her seat. “Martin.”

You must’ve thought Martin officially helping Eve would melt the ice as big as the Antarctica between them? No, not a chance.

No matter how many times Martin had graced the front desk with his presence—of which the the amount had increased significantly by a grand total of two times since their first ever conversation a while ago—Eve couldn’t shake off the feeling of being surprised.

Probably because she was, considering Martin always dropped by in times she least expected him to. And considering the fact they didn’t share any other interaction during the same length of time between their monumental event—as she liked to call the first time Martin had spoken to her—and present.

Yes, unfortunately Martin had resorted back to his old habit of shrugging off her morning greetings, and she didn’t know what and how else to engage him without revealing their secret plan.

Maybe she’d hoped for the stars. But in all honesty, she didn’t expect Martin to go full on bright replying her like Bukayo always did—a small smile would be more than enough, considering where and how far Martin and Eve had come from.

Maybe he was sticking true to his part of this plan of theirs. They did agree that their first—and last—appearance at the Christmas party would be a surprise nobody could’ve seen coming. If he did concede to Eve’s signature good morning in front of Louisa, the building would’ve sniffed the bloody smell in less than 15 minutes.

“I’ve got another package.”

“Ah, yeah, just in time,” At this point, Eve was already a master in hiding her disappointed expression that Martin still considered her as nothing more than mailbox. “Another one for Martin Odellson. Quite a creative name, by the way.”

“Glad you think my way of evading stalker’s creative,” Martin didn’t smile much, especially around her, but maybe it was for the best. The small tug on the corner of his lips became so much valuable than it was. “Where’s Louisa?”

“She’s off early today, sick and all,” Eve handed him the form to sign and his package beside them. “Why’d you ask?”

No, nope. She swore to God she’d asked purely out of curiosity, not because she’d wondered what she hadn’t done that earned Louisa of Martin’s acknowledgement before Eve ever did, despite being half a year being Louisa’s senior.

“Good riddance, then,” Eve couldn’t believe her ears of Martin’s words. That’d got to be the vilest sentence that came out from the good captain’s mouth, bar the things he spitted to express his exasperation on the pitch. “How’s the dress I sent you? It fits you fine, I take it?”

Right, the evening gown that shocks me to the very last of particles. “Yeah, about that…”

Martin hummed, encouraging her to continue, as his hands moved to curve his signature on the form.

“I’ve been meaning to ask you that.”

The Norwegian finished off the last cursive as he pointed her another blank look. “Why didn’t you?”

“Because I don’t know how to get a hold of you without being suspected by everyone in this building and their mothers?” Oh, it felt so good to throw back Martin’s Mr-Know-It-All look for once. “Have you ever thought of it that way?”

But Martin didn’t slip on his feet. The captain threw the same amount of isn’t-obvious look to her. “You have my phone number.”

“Wait, I can text you?”

Eve was meaning to throw him some sarcastic reply but Martin genuinely didn’t think much of it. “Why do you think you can’t?”

“You don’t exactly give off the vibe that I can,” How dare he rolls his eyes at me now?! “About the gown, though. I’m afraid I’ll have to return them to you.”

“Why, it doesn’t fit you or something?” He shifted his weight away from his left leg, his head leaning to the same direction in confusion. “Do I get your size wrong?”

Eve really couldn’t fathom that look, that very look of pure confusion plastered all over his face. As if she was acting strange, as if it didn’t concern him for once that he’d get hold of her size without asking Eve herself.

The last one, though—she promised herself to ask him next time. “No, but it’s Oscar de La Renta.”

“And?”

“And? And?” Martin had to steer his head away five inches back, due to the outburst. “That gown costs my entire arm!”

“But I’m sure you look beautiful in it.”

No will look, no going to. As if it was the present, the long withstanding fact.

Eve had to give it to Martin if this was the game he always plays with whomever he’s romantically involved in. He played his cards with the minds of Mikel Arteta and the face of a poker player. “Well, that’s—”

“You don’t deny it so I must be right,” Eve could sigh in resignation. She didn’t know Martin could be stone-headed, but then her knowledge of him was rather limited. “I don’t see the reason to return them to me, then.”

“But it makes me feel cheap, okay?” Eve let out another deep breath because while the sentence carried out a heavy weight, somehow talking to Martin—as much as she hated spelling it out for his clueless self—made it better. “Like you pay me for acting well.”

Martin let out a breath that was borderline scoffing, and Eve decided she didn’t like it one bit. “You know that is never my intention, Eve. Never, you hear me? You think of it too much,”

And before the gaping mouth of hers could produce another sound, Martin shut her down. “You feel like that because you let yourself think that way. Me, on the other hand, is helping you gather whatever’s dignity stolen from you because I want to,”

Eve had to hold back an audible gasp when Martin’s eyes zeroed back at her, and she—for a stupid, split moment—thought how his opponents didn’t cower under his stare. It felt so intense, so… intimate, too, in their case. As if one word from her would shatter the thin bubble they were in.

“If it’s any help, no one deserves to be treated the way Bob did to you. I can’t stand that, regardless who they are,” But the smile etched in his face didn’t fade at all, resembling him to the Joker on a mission. “You just happen to be someone I’m well-acquainted of.”

And there it was.

Well-acquainted of.

As if he didn’t just make her feel beautiful before the word came crashing down on her.

“If it makes you feel better about it, you can always pay it back.”

Martin really didn’t get the memo to leave her alone for a minute, did he?

“It’d take me a thousand years to pay you back,” Eve couldn’t help but to roll her eyes this time around. “Not everyone earns a hundred thousand pounds a week, Martin.”

“Then do me a favour, since I’ve done one,” The eagerness in his eyes didn’t dim for a second, hands now placed on the desk between them. The determination Eve could notice as he leaned in was actually a sight to be held—if he grazed the grass a bit here—and she could understand why the rest of the team was willing to fight alongside him and Mikel. “Let someone take care of you for a night,”

Eve didn’t bother to let the gasp escape her lips.

“Let me do that for you, at least, as my parting gift.”

＊✿❀○❀✿＊＊✿❀○❀✿＊＊✿❀○❀✿＊

Eve so officially hated Martin Ødegaard.

Martin had texted her a couple of hours just before he was supposed to pick her up, that he couldn’t do the first part of the charade a.k.a the red carpet, because he had to do all the media duties for Christmas week and pre-party stuffs. Eve knew it was his obligation as a well-loved player but good God, they were supposed to come to the party together, not just being seen together. Why didn’t he finish those things before tonight, anyway?

Well, the good old Norsk insisted it was going to look better on her because they would swoop everyone more speechless than they intended before hanging up on her.

How was she supposed to tell him that a big part of her confidence, especially when wearing this overpriced peace of clothing, came from having him near her?

Everyone had been complimenting how good she looked with the gown or how fantastic the colour complimented her complexion, but Eve couldn’t help but still feel like a fraud. She might be thanking them in honesty but when Martin joined her later, nothing that came out of her mouth would be genuine, nothing more than a set of practiced lies she and Martin had planned beforehand. She wasn’t good at lying at the first place, adding the reason why she so badly needed her partner-in-crime to be here with her.

Relax, Eve. No one knows you’re here with Martin yet, which means you’re still not lying to anyone yet, she said to herself. She sounded more like she hypnotised herself at this point but she didn’t care anymore. She wanted to take a revenge on her heartbreak without feeling too much guilt eating her from inside out.

“I don’t recall you being invited here,” Oh, speaking of the devil, complete in flesh and blood. “Who’s your link?”

“I don’t recall they can let in a piece of jerk inside,” Don’t look at him, Eve. You’re much stronger than that. “Who’s your link?”

“You don’t answer my question.”

She still didn’t spare him a look, no matter how much her eyes caught on his movements. “It’s a question that doesn’t deserve an answer.”

Bob scoffed, the very one that he gave when he felt oh so superior. Eve realised now that he used to give her the same kind so much when they were dating. “You know we’ll find out soon enough, don’t you?”

“Certainly not from me,” Eve was so ready to puke at the sight of him, she’d never hated Martin more than now for not blocking her direct view of this scumbag. “You know how much I hate giving attention to any attention seeker.”

Before Bob could retaliate Eve’s attack, a familiar warmth stepped in beside her. “I’m sorry I’m late, Angel.”

On any other circumstances, Martin’s hand slithering its way on Eve’s back and his lips touching the side of her head would definitely give her a stroke. This time, knowing she’d have him on her side for the rest of the night, was turning to warm all over her body with a familiar sense of security. Probably an abundance of comfort, too—not that she’d tell him that now.

But at least, she let him know how relieved she was that he was now here with her as they shared looks when he continued, “Media duties, you know?”

Martin welcomed the underlying gratefulness from Eve and smiled at the tiniest form of communication only two of them understood. Oh, so much had changed the past weeks between them—she took a mental note to treat him something of his liking with her severance pay for understanding her without words.

Eve shot him back a smile, this time her eyes followed by a teasing glint and he somehow knew she was in to kill the man bothering her. “Oh, how would I know, really? I mean, this is my first rodeo having a footballer boyfriend.”

Martin’s smile widened at her unprecedented choice of words to jab the frozen ex-boyfriend they both unanimously and silently decided to ignore. “Then I shall show you what you’ve been missing on, baby.”

“Fancy seeing you here, Martin.”

If it wasn’t because of the music, her ex-boyfriend would certainly not miss the deep growl Martin unconsciously let out overlaying the deep sigh.

“Ah, yes, Bob. I see you haven’t lost your inner arsehole,” Martin smiling when he didn’t mean it was the scariest kind of Martin, Eve had come to realise. “Was he bothering you at all, Angel?”

Eve knew they were only spitting their rehearsed line but she could see Martin’s eyes were blazing with real fire burning, even though he didn’t spare her a glance—heck, he was busy sizzling Bob down. She could only hope she wouldn’t be at the other end of that stare, ever.

“Angel?”

Martin didn’t need to look back at Eve to know the answer to that; her head shaking lightly against his suit was enough of an answer. Which relieved him because he hated going to the media duties, knowing he’d leave her exposed for anyone to see at the party.

“Good,” As a result of his dangerous thought, he pulled Eve closer by the waist, hating more at the possible number of men trying to talk her out of here before he came. “I’d hate to break some legs on this beautiful night.”

“I didn’t know you’re together.”

“I don’t see the reason to tell the whole world I’m dating someone else,” Eve had been waiting all week for Martin to throw any punchline—he’d spoilt her with his discreet desire to verbally punch him since physical brawl isn’t allowed—at Bob for bringing his mistress to the physio internal party. “You see, that’s the difference between being truly famous and trying to be popular with the crowd. We’d like to keep most of our matters private.”

Sweet mama. Eve was starting to not regret having Martin as her date. No one else delivered those lines with such precision without having to literally look Bob from head to toe in disgust—his own fame and achievement had already done it for him.

“But I thought you—”

“Why are you surprised anyway? Are you starting to regret dumping her now she’s with me?”

Their script didn’t go as far as this phase, should they encounter Bob confronting Eve. But damn, Eve couldn’t stop marvelling how Martin sounded protective of her. Like they were real.

Which was a very dangerous thought, she had to add in bold.

“Don’t you ought to say thank you to me for dumping her?”

Martin might not show it in his face but he was seething with anger at merely the sight of this guy. Now he had the nerve to say that? If it wasn’t because of Eve’s hand traveling on his back, bringing him down to Earth where Eve was there with him and the last thing he’d like to do was to embarrass her, he would’ve definitely started a brawl. Consequences be damned. “You should be the one thanking me for not pursuing her from the very first day I came to the club. Now, will you excuse us because I’d like my girlfriend to meet people I care about.”

Eve’s heart took another deep plunge to the trench for reasons she was confused herself. Was it because how proud she was of Martin showing who was the boss or for was it because how natural the word ‘girlfriend’ rolled out of his tongue?

Eve took another mental note to tell Martin slow down with the whole couple thing or she might fall into the same deception everyone else received from their acts tonight.

＊✿❀○❀✿＊＊✿❀○❀✿＊＊✿❀○❀✿＊

The outcome of the altercation between Martin and Eve’s ex-boyfriend, despite the captain trying to handle it low and classy, was that the entire room was reduced to silence.

Some were astounded at how Martin could lose control over his temper outside the pitch. Some others were more astonished at the sight of Martin coming to Eve’s aid—with a side kiss, mind you!—when the entire Emirates Stadium at this point that Martin had never brushed shoulder with the woman during his stint in Arsenal’s shirt so far.

Eve could feel herself slowly shrinking under everyone’s prying eyes because it was totally overwhelming for someone who had always been a fan of Arsenal, not the other way around. Unlike Martin, whom everyone and their mothers idolised.

“Breathe, Angel,” Eve even jumped at Martin’s whisper, as he led her towards their table with a gentle nudge feathering across her open back, because none of this was what she signed up for. She only agreed to steal the thunder from Bob and the wench, not to direct the spotlight to her. “You’re doing great.”

She hissed under her breath, “How on Earth could you play in a full-packed stadium?!”

“Let them be,” Martin maneuverer her from his left to his right, hands still placed firmly on her hips, bar the subtle movement of back and forth towards her belly to slightly ease her nerves. “I have the prettiest gem of all, after all.”

Martin must be talking about someone else.

“Don’t blame me if I puke on your expensive shoes.”

The free, unfiltered laughter from Martin left Eve in a further bewildered state it left her breathless. For his entire facial features lit up in the way the lighting above was only able to pronounce them more beautifully than usual. “Then talk to me, what are you thinking now?”

“Angel?” Now that they were seated for the formal charity gala that was about to start, along with the rest of the leadership team, Eve could finally confront the one thing that had been bothering her so far into the night. “Really, Martin?”

Martin slid his arm behind her, perching comfortably on top of the chair, as if he’d done it a thousand times before. Like everything in this setting was his habitat, and Eve tried to tone down the shudder than ran on her back at the thought Martin was cunning as the con-artist Eve had expected to save her arse the first time he’d offered his help.

But at that precise point, Eve could care less about the remaining of their table. She couldn’t look away at the crease he made due to his movement of leaning in too close to her, the shirt hugging his body deliciously perfectly. The music in the background could swallow their conversation anyway.

“Your name’s Evangeline, no?”

Martin’s tone wasn’t challenging but the glint on his eyes teasingly said the otherwise. I’d like to see you try, those Nordic Ocean blue eyes said, and she had no other choice but to fall deep down the abyss. “It is—”

“Then why fight me?”

“Because nobody calls me like that.”

“Exactly why I’m calling you that,” Martin loved getting a reaction out of a flustered Eve, so he did just that. He leaned in, so much closer to her she could sniff his perfume, and my God was it more intoxicating than the expensive champagne rolled in every minute. “What kind of boyfriend am I to call you like everyone else? Where’s the speciality card for the boyfriend?”

Eve stiffened at his charge; her mind went white all of the sudden. “How do you know my full name, by the way?”

Martin couldn’t help but smirk at her futile attempt to hide her nervousness. “I know a lot more about you than you think I do.”

There went Eve’s existence, dissolved into the air at Martin’s words. She should really gather herself before she went down the drain that Martin had—rather on false pretense, on top of that—been leading her. Think, Eve! Think of something! You cannot succumb to the pressure! “Ugh, how can beat that nickname? It can’t get more original than yours.”

Martin actually laughed from her futile attempt to hide her flustered self. “I’d like to see you try, solskinn.”

*solskinn means “sunshine” in norwegian. but cmiiw.

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plagues02 · 10 months ago

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Is There Room For Four?

Chapter Two - Room for a Third

Summary: A few years after Ghost accepted Roach as his soulmate, they get called up by an old friend, asking them to join his new task force. Task Force 141. Little did anyone know, this would lead to more color being introduced to their world Characters: Simon 'Ghost' Riley, Gary 'Roach' Sanderson, Johnny 'Soap' MacTavish, Kyle 'Gaz' Garrick, John Price, Kate Laswell Ship: GhostRoach, SoapGhostRoach, End Game SoapGhostRoacgKönig, Platonic SoapGaz, Platonic Laswell and Price Word Count: 3436 Note: This was written back in 2022 and was originally posted on Ao3 Chapters: One, Two(You're Here), Three, Four

It has been almost three years since that day. Since then, Gary and Simon stayed teamed up at the request of the higher-ranking soldier, which surprised everyone including Ghost. They worked well together, making them the perfect two for Price to ask to join his new task force.

Roach leaned over the Brit’s shoulder to look at the papers the captain slid to them. Task Force 141 was written on the top folder with the logo of the force printed under it.

Price asked to meet them at a small pub near Roach’s and Ghost’s small London flat on their off night. It seemed oddly timed, causing the duo to wonder if their off day was planned by the older man. He was high enough rank that it wouldn’t surprise them. Ghost flipped open the folder and read the first few lines of the paper:

Task Force 141. Founded by Captain John Price. Commanded by Captain John Price, Station Chief Kate Laswell, and General Shepard. Task Force 141’s goal is to counter-terrorism throughout the world.

Ghost continued to read as Roach reached for two other files. Other recruits, most likely the two who Price mentioned had accepted the proposal. Sergeant Kyle Garrick, code name Gaz, and Sergeant Johnny MacTavish, code name Soap. Soap? What kind of name was Soap?

The Brit looked over at the folders the American was holding. Ghost placed the main file down and took one of the profiles. His eyes raised an eye behind his mask. Price knew which file he grabbed.

“He’s known for his speed and accuracy,” Price said. “Cleans out a room like no other.”

The folders were placed on the table again, and Ghost reached for his drink, bourbon of course. The man paused as he started to bring it up to his lips, remembering his mask in time. Roach silently chuckled, watching him pull his mask just enough to drink. Roach looked back at the captain, moving his hands up to bring attention to himself.

“What will we bring to the table for you? You seem to have a good team already,” he signed in BSL, not ASL. He has learned it since he was living in England, not the United States any more.

Price shifted to lean against the table, hands clasped together in front of him. Both sets of eyes were on him.

“Soap is fast and accurate. Gaz is a good kid. I’ve worked with him before, and I know he’s prepared for the types of missions we’ll take. I’ve read both of your files, and I worked with you before, Ghost.”

Ghost gives a small head motion to confirm. He worked with Price when he first became Ghost many years ago, and a few times when he was known as Simon. Back then, things seemed so different.

“You’re a cold man, Ghost, but you know how to get the job done. You also trust Gary, or would you prefer Roach?”

“Either is fine to me outside of missions. On missions, Roach only.”

Price nodded and continued, “Ghost trust you. The loner asks to have you on any duo missions and is very grumpy when he doesn’t get it his way.-” Roach smiled under his balaclava as Ghost made a noise of disapproval. “-Your file says you’re great on stealth missions and are a team player.”

The captain paused while he looked over at the two once again in thought. “Excuse me if this is personal, but I must ask. You two, you’re soulmates, right? What kind?”

The two glanced at each other, surprised by the question. They knew this question would come up. It always did when they were recruited for something, especially something as large as this. Some in the military saw soulmates as a good thing, something that strengthened the bonds between two soldiers to make them more efficient. However, some saw it as a bad thing, something that would weaken and distract soldiers.

Some people thought it could be either way too. A romantic soulmate was seen as a distraction. Their loving feelings would get in the way of their rational thinking, leading them to protect each other rather than focus on the mission. A platonic soulmate was seen as a strength. A way to bond with each other, increasing the likeliness of success.

“Romantic,” Ghost finally said, shaking his drink in his hand to hear the sound of the ice clanking against the glass. “Is that a problem?

The captain shook his head. “No, No, not a problem at all. Just something we need in the files,” he explained. “Our other two members, Gaz and Soap, are platonic soulmates. I myself am platonic soulmates with another member of Task Force 141, Laswell.”

“Soulmates are not a problem for me or any of the other members. Now, you two joining is up to you. I’ll give you time to think,” Price said, reaching for the files.

They joined. It took about a week of talking to each other about it, making sure they were making the right choice for them before they finally agreed. Then it took almost another week for them to finally meet the rest of the couple. It was decided they would meet back at the pub.

Ghost and Roach got there first, sitting at a table large enough for the group in the back of the pub. Roach was not a drinker himself, and Ghost preferred not to be in busier places so it wasn't common for the two to be seen in pubs. However, the business of this specific pub made it look less suspicious for the group to meet up.

"You need to loosen up. You're tense," signed Roach.

Unlike Ghost, Roach decided to take off his mask for this. He didn't mind people seeing his face, like the Brit did. Gary never pushed the subject, being his choice, but he would tease the other with his body language.

Ghost waved a hand in the air, looking at his reflection in his drink of choice. “You know that’s not going to happen. Why push it?”

“Because I want to see you be more comfortable. We’re meeting our new team, who we may be with for a long while.”

A silent laugh left Gary’s lips when the other took a drink of the alcohol. Well, tried to at least. He forgot to pull the balaclava; the front of it was now covered in bourbon. Irritation filled Ghost’s eyes, placing the drink back down on the table.

The American reached into his pocket and held something out to the other man. The Brit looked down to see the plain army green one owned and worn by Gary on missions being offered to him. Having the choice of a plain balaclava or one that was covered and smelt like alcohol, he picked the plain, whether it suited him or not.

“Oh hush, Bug,” the Brit playfully warned as Gary continued to laugh. He leaned over the other with narrowed eyes. The American pushed forward, banging their heads together.

“We interrupting anything, boys?”

The two looked over at the owner of the voice to see the other had got here. Four more people joined the table as the two men separated again from each other.

Ghost looked over at the new people. They both knew Price, and he knew Laswell. This was Gary’s first time meeting her face to face, but they had worked on missions together before. Neither of them knew the two new members. Gaz and Soap.

Gaz was the youngest of the couple, just about a year younger than Gary. From the file, they knew he had worked with both Laswell and Price not too long ago on another mission. Along with a named Alex and a woman named Farah. Ghost wondered why they weren’t asked to join instead of him and Gary.

Then Soap, what a stupid name. He acted like he had never seen a day of war in his life, overly positive. However, Ghost knew better from watching Gary over the years. Sometimes it worked better to just ignore all the bad things you had been through. At least, that’s what Gary had told him one night.

"Ghost and Roach," Price introduced the two to the others. "I'm sure you too remember who is who from the files."

Ghost shook his drink a little as he nodded. "Gaz-" He nodded at the youngest. "-and Soap, right…" Instead of ending in a question, he started to trail off.

His eyes met with Soap's as he spoke. Just like when he met eyes with Roach, more color filled his world, starting with the blue of his eyes. His mouth ran dry, and his body moved before his brain could catch up. Gary watched the older man walk away, eyebrows furrowing together. He looked over at Soap, wondering what that was about.

His breath got caught in his throat as he figured out what it was about. The blue of Soap’s eyes filled his world. He saw purple out of the corner of his eyes, but there were still parts that were void of color. He made a split-second decision.

“I’m sorry,” he hurried to sign before walking away to speak with his, no, their other soulmate.

Johnny MacTavish, also known as Soap, believed a lot of things. He believed he would be making a difference when joined Task Force 141. He believed things could only look better after his last failed mission. He also believed his soulmate would not run away from him. He also believed he would only have one soulmate. At least three of those beliefs were wrong.

“What just happened?” Laswell was the first to speak, looking back at the ones left at the table.

When her eyes fell on Soap, she knew. Her face dropped, and she looked over at Price. His eyes were wide as he stared ahead at the empty seats, unsure how to react. Beside him, Gaz shifted and leaned over, placing a hand on his shoulder.

“Hey, hey, what happened?” He asked, trying to break the other out of his shocked trance.

Soap looked away from the stops from where the others were once sitting. He could see color. Browns, blues, reds. There were still a few locked to him. Was it green? Could he not see green? Or… who knows? The names of colors were hard to remember when you couldn’t see them for most of your life.

Blue came into his life when he met eyes with Ghost. Then he ran away from the table. Roach looked confused at first, but then he met eyes with the other. More colors came into his life with browns and reds. Then Roach also left.

“Well,” Soap tried to find his words. “I have more than one soulmate, romantic soulmate, and they both just left.”

Gaz’s hand on his shoulder turned into a grip, a strong one. Price gave Gaz a look, telling him to stay, and Laswell reached over to place a hand on Soap’s. It was one thing to have one soulmate reject you, but to have two soulmates at once reject you was something else.

Price reached over and placed a hand on Soap’s other shoulder with a small forced smile, "Give them some time, son. It's a change for all of you." His words sounded empty

Soap sighed softly, rubbing his face. When the day started, he was actually excited to meet the rest of Task Force 141, his new teammates. The Scot had already met Gaz, his platonic soulmate, and he thought nothing could go wrong. Now, he was in a crowded pub, and his romantic soulmates left him. His chest felt tight, and he left small. The steady flow of people coming in and out of the pub didn’t help.

Gaz sat up straight when he noticed the other’s hands going up to his hair, ready to tug at the mohawk. He stood up, pulling Soap up with him.

“We’re going for a walk, sir. He needs to get somewhere quiet.”

Price nodded as they walked away, not waiting for a response. Gaz held onto his shoulder to lead him through the count and outside the building. The younger man couldn’t help but look around for either Ghost or Roach or both of them. Neither was around, not that anyone saw if they had left the pub or not.

When looking around, Gaz saw a park not too far away and decided to lead the Scot that way. The Scot half leaned on his platonic soulmate, trying to get his heavy breathing under control.

At the park, they walked down one of the main traits lit up by the streetlamps above them. No one was out at that time, and the only noise around was the wildlife. Soap was starting to calm down, and Gaz smiled when he saw that the other wasn’t trying to pull at his hair.

“Hey, you know what I thought when I first saw you?”

“Huh?”

The two decided to stop at a bench near the other side of the park that they entered. “I thought you were an odd man. The smile seemed odd to me. You know, with our line of work at all. My second thought was, well, I’m sure you know what it was.”

The Scotsman chuckled. Unlike romantic soulmates, platonic soulmates just knew they were soulmates at first eye contact. No need for fancy color changes. Only simple eye contact.

“I didn’t know what the feeling was at first,” admits Soap. “It wasn’t until Price first mentioned Laswell and their relationship. I never knew there were didn’t there were different kinds of soulmates.”

The Brit snorted. “Well, everyone does worry about their romantic soulmates. No one thinks of platonic soulmates. My grandma told me about them. She had one, and I heard they were closer than grandma and grandpa were. I never got to meet him.”

They sat in silence for a while. Soap traced the lines of Gaz’s hand to keep himself calm as Gaz looked around the park. His eyes fell on something across the road from them.

“Soap, why don’t we go over to that twenty-four-hour restaurant over there?” The younger one asked. “You could use something to keep your mind off that pub.”

Soap hummed a little and looked up at the restaurant. “Yeah, let’s go.”

“Oh, and Soap,” Gaz reached into his pocket as they both stood up.

“Hm?”

“I think this was Ghost’s,” he grinned, holding out a damp balaclava with a skull face printed on it. “Make them talk to you.”

Gary closed and locked the door of their flat behind them. A frown came to his lips as he watched Ghost fall back onto their couch with a groan. He shook his head a little and looked around their home, taking in the new colors. There were still some grays so was there a fourth member out there? Hopefully, meeting them goes better than meeting this one.

“I fucked up.”

The American looked back at Simon, studying him. He had pulled off the balaclava and thrown it elsewhere. Gary sat down beside him and grabbed one of his hands, squeezing lightly.

“What?” Simon asked when he saw the other was staring at his face.

Gary cupped his cheek, rubbing his thumb over one of the many scars. His eyes were still gray, and he frowned at it. He just wanted to see his eye color like Simon could see his.

“Hey now,” Simon chuckled softly when his lover pressed a kiss against his jaw and nuzzled his neck.

The Brit wrapped his arms around the other, pulling him into his lap. They stared at each other for a while before the older man moved first to press their lips together. He followed Gary’s lips when he tried to move away.

Needy, thought the American as Simon continued to show affection. So needy.

It became a game to them. Gary would try to pull away as Simon followed his lips, pulling him closer. The Brit tilted his head a little more, opening his mouth slightly. The American copied, still pulling away slightly.

“You’re being difficult,” Simon let out a small groan, causing a chuckle to leave Gary’s lips.

The Brit was the first one to pull away with a sigh. He hid his face on the other’s shoulder. “We shouldn’t have walked away like that… I shouldn’t have walked away like that.”

Gary let out a hum in agreement, reaching up to run his fingers through the other hair. Simon continued, “We’ll hopefully see him again,,, soon. I need to talk to him.”

The American took the older man’s head in his face and studied him. He smiled a little and kissed his nose before pulling his hands away to sign.

“I’m sure we will since we are on the same task force. I’ll go with you, to make sure you don’t run away again.”

“I did not run away,” Simon tried to start. “Okay, okay, I did. Now, where were we?” Gary let out a small laugh before pressing their lips together again.

It was almost a week later when the team got together again. It was on the base for their first team training session. After the session, they decided to go to a less popular but still good pub to get to know each other. Gaz showered and dressed the fastest, leaving the three soulmates together in the shower/changing room together.

Gary looked up at Soap from the bench he was sitting on. The younger one was wearing only his underwear and was busy drying his hair with a towel. The Scotsman looked like he wanted to say something, but he just sat by the American. The older man was dressed in pants only, leaving his torso bare.

His body was covered in scars, just like the rest of their bodies. He wasn’t as scarred as Ghost or Roach did, but still had plenty to be noticeable. Soap had two scars under his chest, similar to Ghost’s.

“You’re staring,” The Scotsman said.

Roach blushed. “Sorry,” he signed before looking away, rubbing the back of his neck. “And sorry for running like that before.”

The older man chuckled softly, reaching over to pat his back. “No worries. If I remember correctly, you weren’t the way to run away. You followed.”

Roach chuckled silently, looking up at the sound of the water turning off. Ghost stepped out of the shower, looking at the two on the bench, before turning away to grab a shower. They all remained quiet for a while as Ghost slipped into pants.

The youngest looked over at the sounds of rustling. Soap was reaching into his pocket while staring down at the ground. He pulled a mask out, and Roach recognized it as the one Ghost left at the pub.

The Scot looked down at the mask, tracing the lower jaw of the mask. Over the week, he thought about this moment a lot, and he wondered how he would go about this. But now, the moment came, and he was lost. He made up his mind when he saw the oldest of the three reach for one of his masks.

“Ghost,” he stood up, “you left this at the pub.”

Ghost turned, meeting his eyes. He stepped closer by a few steps before reaching out to take the mask. They both gripped the balaclava while staring at each other. The Brit was silently admiring his blue eyes while Soap was hesitating on letting go.

Roach watched on the sidelines, fiddling with his hands and tapping his foot in thought. The room felt tense around them for a few seconds, but the tension fell as soon as Ghost reached up to cup the other’s cheek.

“I’m sorry,” he mumbled, not knowing what else to say.

Soap smiled a little with a small laugh, for relief, leaning against his hand. The American stood up and took a few steps closer to them. The Scots glanced over and held one arm up.

“...”

Gary smiled and took the invitation, wrapping his arms around his bare torso. His smile widened when he felt Simon step forward to hug the two of them. The Scotsman pressed his face against Gary’s brown hair, leaning into the embrace.

It may be hard at first, but they would figure it out. Ghost knew they would. After all, he and Gary always did, so why would it be any harder with another soulmate added into the mix?

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raewrites42 · 1 year ago

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Falling Part 2

SPOILERS FOR ATSV!!!!!!

This is an OC story.

Ok, so this is the next part of the story. I hope you like it. :)

“Miguel do you really think it’s fair for you to blame everything on this kid?” I asked him as we stood on his floating platform. Miguel in his usual brooding stance watching his monitors with a scowl. “Everything is his fault, he’s the original anomaly. If he never got bit, then-” I cut him off before he could continue with his usual boring monologue. “Yeah, yeah, I’ve heard this speech hundreds of times before. You’re still missing the fact that he’s just a kid. He didn’t ask for any of this.” “He knew what he signed up for when he became Spider-Man. We all did. End of discussion.” “Yeah but-” Miguel shoots me a look and I stop talking. I let out a sigh rubbing my temple with my hands. “All I’m trying to say Miguel. Is don’t put the fate of the multi-verse on the shoulders of a 15-year-old kid.” He lets out a sigh dropping his shoulders. “I’ll worry about the Arachnoid Humanoid Poly-Multiverse, and you just keep practicing with those web shooters.” I look at him offended, “What are you talking about? I’m great with them.” Miguel laughs, “Sure you are, and Peter B is our best agent.” “I’m going to tell Lego peter you said that! He’s going to be so crushed.” “Don’t you dare.” “Oh, I will (pause) and I’m pretty sure I saw him in the cafeteria.” I say inching away from him. “Taylor.” He said in warning. I smile at him. “If you wanna stop me you’re going to have to catch me.” I then use my web shooters to swing out of the room to the cafeteria. How could he say I was bad at using these, I’m the best web slinger there is.

~Present~ (Andrew Garfield’s spiderman universe)

“You’re not very good at this are you?” Peter asked as we stood on a roof top after I once again ran out of web fluid and had to be rescued by him. “It’s not my fault I ran out of wed fluid!” “I asked you if you were running low before we left.” “Yeah, I know.” “And what did you say?” I turn away from him and mumble. “mhmhhmhmm” “what was that?” “I said I was fine.” “And is plummeting of a skyscraper fine?” “Can we just go back I’m tired we’ve been out all day.” “that’s because you haven’t been outside in 6 days.” “there’s a reason for that peter. I am trying to fix-” he cuts me off, “yeah, yeah fix your watch so you can go home. I know, but if you don’t take care of yourself there won’t be much left of you to go back home.” I stared at him in disbelief. Did he just cut me off? Is this what Miguel feels like? No wounder the man is always grumpy. But he’s my grump and I miss him. It’s been 27 days 16 hours and 12 minutes since I’ve been stuck here. Since I fell off that train and into this stupid universe! Don’t get me wrong, I love Peter, he’s the only reason I’m not curled up in a ball crying every day. He’s helping me with my mission to fix my watch, I’m staying with him, and his aunt may (I love her so much she’s so awesome!), but as much as I have grown attached to the people here, I miss home. I miss getting empanadas from the cafeteria with Miguel, I miss our midnight chats after he’s had a long day of leading the spider society, I miss running around with Hobie, I miss playing with Mayday and everything else! I wonder how everyone is at home.

~Back at spider headquarters~

Miguel is a wreck. His office is still as disheveled as it was when he first found out about Taylor’s disappearance 27 days ago. The man has been searching universe after universe scouring for any information at all about her whereabouts. He’s even enlisted the help of his best agent Peter and even he’s come up with nothing. Everyone has noticed his state because when he wasn’t locked away in his lab, he was snapping at everyone. He’s yelled at LYLA so many times the poor A.I has started to ignore him when he calls upon her. Miguel has been so distracted with finding Taylor that he put off his pursuit of miles, and yet the multi-verse is still standing. Maybe she was right, he thought to himself. Miguel stands in his lab feeling utterly defeated and alone. Too upset to even eat his now cold empanada that sits next to his monitors.

~ Back to Taylor~

“It can’t be completely broken if you’re able to be in this universe and not glitch.” Peter says to Taylor as they both sit in his room. “Exactly, so why is it keeping me together and not opening portals?” They both ponder in silence. “Let’s start from the beginning, you said that a kid opened a portal before, right?” “That was only after he blew up a super collider.” “Right, super collider. If we found one, would we have to blow it up or could we just turn it on and push you through it to send you home?” “If and that’s a big if, we found a super collider I don’t think that we would have to blow it up. The guy who made it in miles’ universe was planning to use it to bring back his family.” “So, it could work?” “It’s only brought things to the universe. It’s only sent things back after it blew up.” Peter groans in frustration grabbing his hair. “Ok. How about this. We find a super collider and when we get there, we see what happens.” I give him a look. “Are you serious? That’s extremely dangerous! Do you have any idea what effects that could cause to the- (pause) Oh God. I sound like Miguel.” I put my head down and rub my temples. Peter pulls my hands away from my head. “We can still try it and see what happens.” “It’s still dangerous peter.” “we’ll be careful.” “Careful while we don’t know what we’re doing?” “Careful as in we’ll look both ways before crossing the street. Wear our seat belts. Check expiration dates on food before eating.” I laugh at his nonsense, and he laughs with me. Aunt May yells out to us, “Dinners ready!” I look at Peter, “Hungary?” he shrugs his shoulders at me. “I could eat.” We both make our way down to dinner.

~TIME SKIP~

It’s been 3 days since Peter, and I made a plan to find a super collider. 3 days which means this marks a whole month since I’ve been stuck here. Before I can start on my sad internal monologue Peter burst into the room waving a newspaper around like a mad man. “What? What is it?” “Look! I found one!” “Found what?” He throws the newspaper at me, and it lands in my lap. I look and the paper and read it aloud, “Wilson Fisk’s set to unveil new Super Collier this Saturday.” I stop reading and look at Peter who is looking at me expectantly. “This is what we’ve been looking for, why am I the only one looking happy right now?” “No, I am happy. It’s just don’t you know who Wilson Fisk is?” “Some rich guy who is giving us exactly what we need.” “Peter. Wilson Fisk is King pin.” He looks at me confused. “King who?” “King Pin. You know one of the most dangerous and feared crime lords in the city.” Peter continued to stare at me. “Really, you’ve never heard of the guy? You’re literally spider-man, that’s like your job to know who he is.” “Never heard of the guy. Maybe he just moved to town. Your missing the point here, we can finally send you home.” “I know but we have to sneak into the building and into the lab that the collider is in.” “that’ll be easy.” “Oh really?” I say crossing my arms. “Taylor, you already said it before. I’m Spiderman. We’ll sneak in no problem.”

~LATER THAT NIGHT~

Peter and Taylor ran into the lab with the super collider rushing to lock the doors behind them breathing heavily. I turn to Peter out of breath, “we’ll sneak in no problem. I’m spiderman.” I say mockingly. “I didn’t expect there to be that many people here at night.” “it’s a criminal activity of course they're going to work mostly at night!” Peter goes to respond but is cut off by shouting heard in the hall “THEY’RE IN THE LAB!” “THE DOOR WONT OPEN!” “BREAK IT DOWN!” Me and Peter look at each other then run towards the collider. “What do I press?” “I don’t know! Why would I know that?” “You’re the one with collider knowledge!” “I wasn’t there when the kid blew it up!” The banging on the door get more intense. “Just do something Peter!” “I’m trying!” Peter Presses a bunch of buttons until the collider turns on and starts whirling making loud noises. Peter yells, “Is that a good sign?” “I don’t know.” We get closer to the collider and weird sparks and glitches start happening more and more to the point that the collider seems on the verge of breaking. “That doesn’t look good.” I say to Peter. We don’t have a lot of time to think as the door is busted down. “THERE THEY ARE!” “THEY TURNED ON THE SUPER COLLIDER!” Just then the collider starts to spark, and it burst. Peter and I are blinded by a bright light. Peter tries to shield me with his body and just as we both are waiting for the impact of the explosion, it never comes. Peter and I look at each other confused when a voice speaks. “Why are you two trying to destroy the multiverse?” I turn around to see a wizard looking guy with a cape. I look around more to see we’re not in the lab anymore. We’re in what looks like a library. I look back to the wizard. “Who are you?” He looks at me like I’ve asked the most irritating question ever to exist. “Steven Strange. Now who are you?”

~BACK AT SIPDER HEADQUARTERS~

LYLA pops up in front of Miguel as he sit sadly in his lab. “Miguel! You’re going to want to hear about this.” “What is it LYLA?” “An anomaly just popped up in the system.” “So, send Jess and- “LYLA cuts him off. “A Super Collider exploded.” Miguel snaps his head in LYLA’s direction. “Again! Dios Mio! I knew that kid was trouble, but no one ever listens to me.” “It wasn’t in his universe Miguel. It was on earth-120703, but that’s not all.” “What else could there be?” “The explosion was pinged off of the closes watch.” “And?” “That watch was Taylor’s watch; you know the watch that’s been offline for a month.” Miguel jumps at this information. “So, you can track her now? We can bring her back home?” “Not necessarily. While the explosion was picked up from her watch, we still can’t track it, but the good news is now we know she’s alive.” LYLA disappears. Leaving Miguel alone once again, only this time he wears a small smile on his face. Knowing that Taylor is alive has given him hope of once again bringing her home.

#miguel o'hara #spiderman 2099 #fanfic #miguel o'hara x black OC #spiderman atsv #miles molares #peter parker #dr. strange #miguel ohara #spider man: across the spider verse #atsv fic #fanfiction #spiderman #Miguel ohara #miguel ohara x oc #miguel ohara fanfiction

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dramatic-squirrel · 2 years ago

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Daminette December 2022 Day 2- Baby

@maribat-calendar-events

The loud music of the carnival around them deafened their ears, but the noise didn’t deter Marinette’s excitement. It was impossible to not be excited by the rides, attractions, even the clog-your-arteries carnival food. In fact the only person more excited than Marinette was Mar’i.

It was a bit disappointing that her date with Damian got hijacked by a three-year, but if there was any three year old Marinette wanted to spend time with, it was Mar’i. She was the best, and not just because she could fly and shoot energy from her hands. No, probably the best thing was the fact that between her and Mar’i they could get away with anything, which was the best superpower.

Marinette held one of Mar’i’s hands while Damian held the other, careful to make sure no one got lost. And the little girl led them towards their first ride of the carnival, a merry-go-round.

“I refuse to ride on something as silly looking as that,” Damian immediately refused.

“Oh come one Damian, it’s not that embarrassing. And I’ll go on too.” she coaxed. “Besides,” she turned to address Mar’i, “wouldn’t you prefer to ride with Uncle Damian and me, Mar’i?”

“Yeah! Please Uncle Dami?” And then she looked at him with the most forlorn expression she could muster. To say no to that face would be beyond cruel. Without saying another word, Damian got on the ride and sulked the entire time. But that didn’t stop Marinette and Mar’i from having fun.

The next place Mar’i dragged the couple to was a carnival game. It was a simple dart throwing game, and while Mar’i could have won the game if they let her (energy blasts could do some serious damage to balloons) they convinced the toddler that she could have any prize that Marinette or Damian won.

Marinette went first, but it became pretty hard to concentrate when her boyfriend kept distracting her. “You suck at this. No not there, aim higher.”

“I know what I’m doing Damian.”

“Clearly not Angel. Here, hand it over, I’ll go twice.” He grabbed the darts from her and threw each one in quick succession. Then putting another five dollars down, he grabbed another set of darts and swiftly threw them. Needless to say, each dart hit their mark. Turning to her, he had a smug look on his face.

And even though she should have been more upset with how he ambushed her turn, she couldn’t help but look at him with love in her eyes. “Yeah, yeah, you did really well,” She complimented and a faint blush began to spread across Damian’s face. “What prizes do you want Mar’i?”

Mar’i looked at the selection of stuffed animals before pointing to two of them “The birdy and the bug.” Unfortunately, she couldn’t hold on to them while Damian and Marinette held her hand, so she gave each of them one plushie. To Marinette, she gave the blue jay and to Damian the ladybug. Soon her attention was drawn to something else. “I wanna do that!” she cried, pointing to a face painting stall.

“Of course. What do you want? Hearts? Bats? Or maybe some butterflies?”

“Stars! Just like Mommy.”

“Ok. And what about you Damian?” The look of horror that crossed his face made Marinette burst out laughing.

“The merry-go-round was one thing, but I draw the line here,” he scowled at the two of them, preparing for what they might throw his way.

“Well, I think I’ll go for some flowers. And for you…” she pretended to think for a bit. “...what do you think Mar’i?”

“A cat! He can match Alfred the cat!”

“I think that’s a wonderful idea. Our grumpy cat needs some whiskers so everyone knows to stay away.”

Damian didn’t comment but a bad feeling began to settle in his gut. It was proven right when ten minutes later he ended up in the chair. He wasn’t even sure how it happened but he knew he wasn’t the only one to give way to Mar’i and Marinette. Even Alfred the butler couldn’t resist.] the two of them combined.

“Oh come on Damian. It’s not so bad.” Damian looked away, giving her the silent treatment. “Seriously, it’s less of a cat and more like a tiger, it looks cool.” And Damian knew she was only placating him, but nonetheless, he began to feel a bit more comfortable with his new feline features. That was until Grayson showed up and ruined the whole thing.

“Oh my god… Damian, you look so cute!” A flash went off before Damian could look away, murder in his eyes.

“Daddy!” Mar’i practically flew into Grayson’s arms. “I want to tell you all about the things we did.”

“And I’d love to hear it.” Before Mar’i could go on a long tangent, Damian interrupted.

“Delete that picture this instant, Grayson, or I will skewer you with my katana the next time we spar.”

“Oooh, send that pic to me Dick. Also real quick, take one of me and Damian together.” Marinette pulled Damian close, both for the photo and to prevent him from maiming Dick. Another flash went off. “Awesome. Thanks Dick.”

“Sure, no problem. Thanks for taking care of Mar’i for me and Kor’i.”

“It’s fine, Mar’i’s a joy to be around. I hope I have a baby as sweet as her one day.” At Marinette’s words Dick got a sly look on his face.

“Oh my, I didn’t realize you were already thinking about having kids with Damian, little bug.” For the first time that night Marinette’s face erupted into flames. She hid her face beneath her hands.

“Please forget I said that,” the muffled words were just barely audible.

“Did you think of names already?” Dick ignored her. “What about you Damian? Do you hope that they’ll have her eyes?” The murderous aura around Damian increased.

Grabbing Marinette’s hand, he dragged her away from Grayson, while simultaneously scrubbing the paint off of his face. “We’re leaving. The longer we listen to your idiotic babble the more stupid we become.”

Dick couldn’t resist one final shot. “Don’t go trying to make those babies now! Act responsibly and wait for marriage!” Marinette swore her face couldn’t get more red.

#daminette December 2022 #daminette december #daminette #maribat #maribat evet #i wrote this for the face painting scene #also no clue how a three year old talks

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senseless-writing · 3 years ago

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A Chance

Pairing: Geralt of Rivia x child!reader (oc)

Request: Ooooo what about geralt tackling taking care of a poor Orion with a cold?🥺

Summary: Orion has a cold. Or, at least, that’s how it started. But when things take an unexpected turn down a dangerous road, Geralt questions if he really has what it takes to care for a human child

Warnings: A crap ton of angst. But don’t worry, I’m a sucker for happy ending and tooth rotting fluff :)

A/N: I tagged everyone from “Something New.” But if you want to be removed or added, please let me know!

Masterlist

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

The first time Orion ever looked death in the eyes, she was only eight years old.

And for the first time since Geralt took her in on that cold winter's day, nearly two years past, he wondered if his life was on track to reverting back to how it used to be. How it was before, when the only person he had to care for was himself. When things were easier, simpler, and a hell of a lot quieter.

Back to a life without Orion.

It scared the shit out of him.

Geralt tried to find an inn as soon as he heard her cough. They’d been on Roach when it happened, and it was quickly followed by a round of pitiful sniffs as she rubbed her button nose on the cloak he bought her six months ago. And then, of course, she’d flopped herself back against his chest and whined.

“I’m dyingggg,” she drawled, coughing once more.

The right corner of Geralt’s lips lifted in a smile. “Is that so?”

“Yes, I am. Can’t you see? I’m clearly in pain here.”

“Hm. What I see is a little girl with a cold and an imagination too big for her head.”

Almost immediately, Geralt laughed at his own joke, because he could see the tips of Orion’s ears flushing red in anger. Or, perhaps, annoyance.

“Oh, ha ha,” she sniffed, and the witcher could practically hear the scowl on her face. “You think you’re so funny, don’t you? You wouldn’t if you knew what it actually felt like to be sick.”

Geralt let go of Roach’s reins, then, to wrap his arms around her and squeeze until she whined and pushed at his arms. “You poor little human child. Doomed to a life of misery with no one who understands you.”

Orion huffed, and made a whole show of slumping over in defeat. “Fine, clearly you don’t care. I guess I’ll just suffer in silence.”

“Oh, I seriously doubt that.”

And he was right, at least for a while. She whined and coughed and sneezed loud enough for the whole forest to hear. But eventually, her coughs became more rough, and her sullen complaints fell silent. That’s when Geralt knew it was time to be concerned.

He could feel her whole body shudder against his chest when she coughed. And her skin, despite the chill, was warm to the touch. Perhaps she really was as sick as she said she was. His first thought, then, was to change their route in favor of the closest inn. Sure, there wasn’t any snow on the ground, but winter weather could be brutal, and it was easy for a witcher to forget that a few nights in the cold was enough for a human to feel the effect.

But hours later, still on horseback, it was clear that they wouldn’t be making it to any inn on that night. They’d been too deep into the woods by the time Geralt decided to change their course, and with the sun setting steadily, the last thing he wanted was to be stuck wandering in the dark with a miserable child. He had to set up camp, and he had to do it there.

She’ll live, he thought idly. There was a bit of guilt, sure, but not much. She’ll make it one more night, roughing it out here with me. We’ll get to the inn by tomorrow for sure.

So he found a spot he liked and dismounted from Roach, helping a grumpy Orion down with him. She sulked away to sit under a nearby tree as soon as her feet hit the floor.

“Another night on the forest floor,” she groaned. “I thought you said we’d get to sleep in a bed tonight.”

Geralt, still un-tacking Roach and pulling their stuff from his bag, let out a sigh. “I can make you a bed of grass to sleep on if you’d like.”

“I didn’t know witchers had a sense of humor.”

“I didn’t know stuffy noses made little girls turn bratty.”

“I’m not a brat, Geralt,” she whined, and he turned to give her a sharp look. Orion returned it with a pitiful one of her own. “I really don’t feel well.”

The witcher’s eyes softened as he walked over, tossing a blanket and water pouch into her lap. “I know you don’t. Put that on, and drink some water. Are you hungry?”

“No,” Orion grumbled in between small sips.

“Alright. I’m going to work on building this fire, and you’re going to close your eyes and try to get some rest. How does that sound?”

The raven haired girl didn’t respond, instead tucking herself deep into the sheepskin Geralt gave her. But the witcher took that as an agreement, and gently patted her head, before turning to continue his nightly routine.

Lay out the blankets, brush down the horse, set up the fire. It was at least an hour before he could finally sit down and check on Orion again. She looked alright, albeit still a little warm, but nonetheless sound asleep. He wasn’t sure if whatever she had would clear out by tomorrow, but doubted it would last more than a day or two.

Either way, he’d done everything right. She was hydrated and resting, and as warm as he could possibly make her. With her head resting on his lap as he leaned against a tree, and his eyes closed for the night, Geralt was sure that today was a success for him as a make-shift guardian.

Things weren’t meant to go the way they did.

But when he awoke in the middle of the night, he immediately knew that something was wrong. At first, he couldn’t figure out what it was. In fact, he wasn't even sure what woke him. So he did what Vesemir taught him to do: sit still, listen, and observe.

The fire had died down hours ago, as he could just barely smell the smoke in the air. Roach was standing off a few feet away, but he knew she was sleeping from the rhythm of her heart. And there wasn’t a monster nearby, that much Geralt was certain of. His senses were too trained to miss such a thing.

It was like a flash going off in his brain. Some sort of sixth sense that manifested before he even knew it was there. A sense that only a guardian, a father, could experience.

Because Orion—small, headstrong, and cute as a button Orion—was trembling in his arms. And apparently, his subconscious knew it long before he did.

“Orion?” he sat up at once, cupping her cheeks in his hands. Her face was hot, red hot, and flushed of all color entirely. Sweat pressed her raven curls to her forehead, her chest shuddered with every breath she took, and Geralt’s cat eyes allowed him to see the light tint of blue on her lips, even if the stars were the only thing lighting the night sky.

He pulled her completely into his lap with frantic hands, holding her close to his chest. “Hey,” he shook her, tapping her cheeks to get her to look at him. “Can you hear me, sweetheart?”

Her eyes opened slowly, uncertainly. She looked at him without seeing, and her shaky hands raised to cling to the wrists that held her face. They felt like icicles against Geralt’s skin.

“I know, I know,” he shushed her when she moaned in pain. She tried to tuck her face to his neck, but he wouldn’t let her. Not until he knew what she needed. “What hurts? Tell me what hurts so I can fix it.”

“Everything,” she cried, but it came out more as a hoarse whisper than anything else. “Everything hurts.”

Geralt fished out the water pouch from between the blankets underneath them, quickly unscrewing the cap and holding it to her shaking lips. Orion tilted her head away in distaste.

“Cmon, Orion, you have to let me help.”

She coughed again, a dry, hollow sound. It rattled her lungs so deeply that she lurched forward in Geralt’s arms to try and ease the pain in her chest. The witcher helped her sit up, patting her back in the hopes of making it stop, but nothing seemed to work. She just kept coughing, coughing until she was blue in the face and the only thing he could do was pull her close and pray to whatever gods that were out there to let her breathe.

“Slowly,” he whispered in her ear. “You’re alright, just breathe slowly.”

But she wasn’t alright, and she couldn’t breathe, and Geralt didn’t know what to do. Orion was sick, sicker than he’d initially thought. And the guilt of doing nothing about it, of spending another night in the cold while he sat on his ass and did nothing, was enough to drive him mad.

He wouldn’t allow himself to do it a moment longer.

“Alright,” he let out a frantic sigh. With a grunt of exhaustion, he stood with Orion still in his arms. He held her close to his chest, with one arm wrapped around her back while the other cradled her head to his shoulder. “We’re gonna go, alright? We’re gonna go, and I’m gonna find you someone who will make it better.”

The little girl groaned in pain as he bent down to throw their stuff into bags. Roach, having been rudely awakened, huffed and stomped her hooves as Geralt struggled to tack her up with one hand. His hands were shaking—with adrenaline, rage, or fear, he wasn’t sure—but not as bad as Orion’s were. He could feel them wrapped around his neck, frail and shaky and struggling to hold on.

How could she have become this ill in only a matter of hours? How could he have not noticed?

He’s never disassembled a camp so quickly in his life. Within minutes, the only evidence of them being there was the remains of their burnt out fire. Quickly, Geralt found a way to mount Roach with Orion still in his arms. It was awkward, and uncomfortable, but necessary. She couldn’t even hold herself up anymore, and the witcher resorted to cradling her in his arms as he urged the mare forwards.

Even wrapped in all the blankets they had, Geralt could still feel Orion trembling as they rode. He simultaneously tucked her in tighter and kicked Roach to move faster. He didn’t like how far they were from the nearest town (which is why he hadn’t made the journey there in the first place.)

But there wasn’t much of an option now.

-----------

They rode until dawn, and they rode in relative silence. Geralt wanted to say something, wanted to apologize or sooth her or…something. But he couldn’t. Partially because he didn’t know what to say, and partially because he was too busy listening to her breaths.

They were unsteady and muffled. Erratic, even.

And even if he could find the words to say, it’s not like she would hear them. By this point in their ride, Orion was delirious with fever. Sweating through her blankets, trembling in the cold, and mumbling words Geralt couldn’t understand, even with his sensitive hearing.

By the time he finally reached the small town he knew would be waiting for them, Geralt wasn’t sure if Orion was with him anymore. And the people of the town, they watched him. They watched as a white haired witcher carrying a bundle of death rode through their streets, frantically searching for someone to fix the mistake he’d made.

The residents of this town took pity on the poor witcher. An old man, probably half Geralt’s age, approached Roach with a soft face and raised hands.

“Excuse me, sir, but can I assume you’re looking for a doctor?”

Geralt’s whole body deflated at the man's kind-hearted concern. “Yes. Yes, you can.”

“Well our doctor, Lana, she never sleeps. I can take you to her home, if you’d like.”

The witcher nodded once, a desperate “please,” falling from his lips before the man was mounting his horse and leading them forward. The two rode as swiftly as the streets would allow, dodging the few shop owners who rose with the sun to start their days.

In less than a minute, they arrived at a house that Geralt assumed to be Lana’s. It was an old stone cottage, covered in vines and seemingly tilted on its side. In fact, the whole house seemed as if it was seconds away from collapsing, but that didn’t stop him from kicking the door in with all the strength he had.

“Help, please! I need some help here!”

A small woman rushed in at once. Geralt didn’t notice any of her features, didn’t even notice she was there at first. Not until her pale hands were pulling at the girl in his arms.

At once, the witcher was pulling away, clinging to Orion in a desperate manner. That’s what he’s been doing for the past three hours, and he wasn’t prepared to stop now.

“You have to let me take her,” the woman, Lana, said in a soft voice. Her hazel eyes met his own, tinted gold, and she gave him an encouraging look. “If you want me to make her better, you have to let me work.”

Geralt relented his grip on the girl after a moment's hesitation. He watched Lana take her and lay her on a nearby table. “Please be gentle,” he muttered, almost as an afterthought.

“I promise I will be.”

And she was. Geralt made sure of it. He sat by Orion’s side with eyes like a hawk, carefully monitoring Lana as she assessed her. He couldn’t find the words to ask what she was doing when she jogged across the room to her cabinets, pulling out herbs and oils and other things he didn’t recognize. Vesemir would be embarrassed by his lack of understanding about herbal medicines, and maybe he knew more than he was letting on. But in that moment, Geralt had never felt more clueless.

“Can you tell me what happened?” Lana asked him, her eyes focused on the bowl of ingredients in front of her.

“She had a cold. It was—I thought it was a cold. But when I woke up about three hours ago, she was like this.”

The doctor raised her eyes to meet his own for a moment. “Three hours ago?”

Geralt’s whole face sharpened until his gaze was dark enough to frighten the bravest of souls. He knew what she was implying. “I had to get us here,” he said through clenched teeth.

“You’re a witcher, yes? Can I assume you two have spent the last few nights on a forest floor?”

A fire crawled through Geralt’s veins. “If you have something you’d like to say to me—”

“I don’t,” Lana paused again to look at him with an understanding expression. “I don’t presume to know better than the guardians of my patients. I just need to know all the facts so I can treat her properly.”

“The facts are that she had a cold. It was a cold that turned into a cough, that turned into…this. She became delirious about an hour ago and hasn’t been lucid since.”

“Alright, then, our focus is on breaking the fever. This should help,” she motioned towards the concoction she’d made. Geralt flinched as he watched her tilt Orion’s head back, pinching her nose and forcing the mixture down her throat.

“That’s it?” he asked, gripping Orion’s hand like it was his only lifeline. Perhaps it was. “That’s all you’re going to do?”

Lana didn’t look the slightest bit offended at his tone. “That’s all I can do. The herbs I gave her should attack the fever while simultaneously clearing the congestion in her lungs. I’d like to get some cool rags on her pressure points to aid them in that process. But other than that, all we can do is wait.”

Geralt could hardly focus on her words. The whole waiting thing, it wasn't really his style. Especially not when it came to Orion. He was meant to be her caretaker. He was meant to keep her safe, keep her happy. But he’d failed today. He could only hope, with the grace of destiny, that he’d be given another chance to make this right.

That he’d be given another chance to care for her, and to not fail at it.

They spent another 30 minutes in that tense limbo of confusion and discomfort. Geralt watched as the doctor laid wet rags across the eight-year-old’s forehead, wrists, and back of her neck. The panic he felt as he sat there was unmatched. No monster of any fang or claw, no drunken mercenary with something to prove. Nothing compared to sitting still and waiting for his little one to hurry up and get better or die.

Eventually, he couldn’t take it anymore. He couldn’t take the stiff silence in the air, or the burning hole of Lana’s gaze on his back. Geralt suggested that she get some rest, offering to stay awake and change Orion’s rags periodically, and to watch her breaths for any signs of change. It was a desperate move to finally be alone again, and it worked. Within ten minutes, the doctor had retired for the night, and the witcher was once again alone.

Alone with Orion, and alone with his mistakes.

-----------

Geralt spent 12 hours contemplating what his new life without Orion would look like.

12 hours picturing his life without her smile. Without ever seeing the way it took over her whole face, or the way her eyes crinkled into nothing at all because her smile was just that big. Or without teasing her for the missing teeth that were still struggling to grow in.

And he thought about how rarely he would laugh once she was gone. Before Orion, he could go weeks without authentically letting out a laugh. But now, he couldn’t count how many times he did it in a day. She was constantly helping him find the joy in things, even if he pretended the opposite was true.

He was going to miss everything about her. The big things, the small things, and everything in between. That’s what he thought about for 12 hours in the tilted doctor's hut as he dressed and redressed her damp rags.

But when Orion shifted underneath his gentle hands, successfully snapping him from his spiral of self pity, Geralt nearly felt his heart crack under the pressure he’s been forcing himself to carry.

“Orion?” he called to her softly. Her face had gained back most of its color, without even a hint of blue in sight. He hadn’t noticed that before, having been too immersed in his grief. “Can you hear me? Go on, open your eyes sweetheart, I’m right here.”

She flinched away from his voice at first. From that, and the soft candle light coming from her bedside. Her senses seemed to be on overdrive, and every little thing sent a wave of pain washing over her. But she could feel the gentle hands caressing wisps of hair from her forehead, could recognize who’s hands they were in an instant, and she knew she wasn’t alone.

Geralt was there for her like he always was. Like he promised he always would be.

“Geralt,” she sighed, her obsidian eyes meeting his.

Once again, words were beyond him. Really, what was there to say? What could he possibly come up with that would make up for the past 24 hours?

But Orion, ever the wordsmith, wasn’t content with sitting in silence. “Gods, my chest hurts,” she groaned, giving him the best smirk she could manage. Her eyes quickly flashed across the room in confusion. “Wait, where are we? I thought we slept outside last night.”

Geralt stuttered, cleared his throat, and tried again. “We, uh—we did. You don’t remember anything after falling asleep?”

Her eyes fluttered in thought, before looking back at him. “Not really, no.”

“You got worse. Much worse. I thought…it was touch and go for a while.”

Orion seemed to contemplate what he said for a moment, with furrowed brows and thoughtful eyes. A moment passed, and then another, before she looked at him with a glint in her eyes that nearly knocked the breath from his lungs.

“I guess I got to spend the night in a bed after all.”

Geralt nearly blew a fuse. “You’re not funny, Orion. Not even in the slightest.”

“I wasn’t trying to be,” she defended herself, but an amused chuckle slipped from her lips anyway. It got stuck somewhere in her throat, though, as it was still sore from the hours she’d spent struggling to breathe. She coughed to try and clear it out, and a surprisingly panicked expression fell across her face.

Orion opened her mouth to say something; to call out for Geralt, maybe. Or perhaps to apologize for being stupid and making jokes after being told she’d almost died. But nothing came out, because she was too busy trying to catch her breath. Still, her witcher knew what she needed.

“It’s alright,” he cooed, moving to support the back of her head. “Take it easy, it’ll come back. Just relax.”

She tucked herself tighter in his arms, leaning at an awkward angle to press her ear to his chest. Geralt tried to speed up his breaths to match that of a normal human’s, though it didn’t really work. His heart still beat slower, and although Orion couldn’t exactly match her rhythm to his own, it still helped calm her down.

They stayed that way for minutes on end. Orion taking in Geralt’s warmth, and Geralt running his hands through her unruly curls while trying to remind himself that she was alright.

“I’m sorry for almost dying,” she said at last. It was merely a whisper, but Geralt heard it anyway. He rested his cheek on the top of her head and sighed.

“I’m sorry for almost letting you.”

“But you didn’t. If you had, we wouldn’t be here right now.”

“I almost didn’t get you here in time.”

“But it’s all okay now, right?” she looked up at him with wide eyes. “We’re here, I’m gonna get better, and everything’s gonna go back to normal. Right?”

It was then, in that moment, that Geralt was reminded of the most important lesson of all. The greatest thing Orion had ever taught him during their time together, something you must know if you ever stood a chance of being a parent worth having.

And that was to always, always, put your child’s needs before your own. To be selfless, even when it feels impossible to do so. It was something he’d struggled with at first, having lived a whole life caring for no one’s needs but his own. But now, with her under his care, Geralt had learned what needed to be done to make sure Orion was happy.

So that’s why when she looked at him like that, as if he single handedly hung the stars in the night sky, he knew what he needed to do. He needed to put his feelings aside, to swallow his grief and self pity and deal with it on his own time, because reassuring her had to be his first priority.

That’s what she needed from him.

“That’s right. Everything’s gonna be okay now.”

He could feel her deflate in his arms at those words. And with that came his own relief. Because for once in what felt like a very long 24 hours, the two of them were finally both at ease.

“Geralt?” she asked again, and he hummed at her in response. “Can we spend another night here, or at an inn? With a bed?”

The witcher chuckled and let her slip from his arms, lying her back down and resting a hand on her forehead. She was still warm, but not alarmingly so. “All the nights in our future are going to be spent at an inn. With fire, clean water, and everything else we need.”

She looked slightly alarmed. “Well, I don’t want to stop sleeping outside altogether. That’s how life is on the path.”

“On the path, hm?” his left eyebrow raised. “How about this. Once you’re better, things can go back to how they were. Except, I work on finding you a warm place to sleep more often than I do now. How does that sound, oh mighty witcher?”

Orion’s whole face broke into a smile, like the one he’d been missing so dearly while she slept. A wide, toothy grin with squinted eyes and crooked lips.

“That sounds good,” she sighed, before relaxing her face entirely. Her eyes slipped closed, and Geralt leaned forward to press a soothing kiss to her temple.

“Sleep, Orion,” he whispered in her ear. “And when you wake, everything will be better.”

And it was. When Orion woke, everything was better, and Geralt was grateful for the chance he’d been given.

A chance to learn, and a chance to do better.

Tags: @risenqueen-1521 @antisocial-thing @nayderz @yamihere004 @dreamy-caramel @planet-ashtroid @the-sky-writes @firexfate @yorkeylover @britty443 @gluepoo @jakeyjellybean

#the white wolf #the witcher #the witcher x reader #the witcher x daughter!reader #the witcher x oc #Geralt #geralt of rivia #orion #reader fic #OC fic #geralt x reader #geralt of rivia x reader #geralt x daughter!reader #geralt of rivia x daughter!reader #geralt x oc #geralt of rivia x oc #the witcher x child!reader #Geralt of rivia x child!reader

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spikybanana · 2 years ago

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this... got long. why do I attempt plot? part six of the jegulily mini series. prompt: party [masterpost here] [prompts here]

Nearly another year had passed before everything came to a head in a single day.

Lily vaguely wondered if everyone’s early adulthood had every year feeling like ten, or was the war taking everything from them. Already they’ve lost people, no one close to them yet, dear god, but at the bottom of her soul she knew it was only a matter of time. It’s been more than half a year since anyone had heard from Mary, and her absence lodged like an ice chip between the girls whenever they saw each other. The boys were struggling too. The last time James and Peter saw each other had both close to tears, frustrated at the unassailable distance creeping between them. Remus and Sirius still floo in from time to time, of course, but ever since they started saying there’s a spy in the order— well. Lily worried for them. She wished they’d each trust themselves a little more. As for London, the city suited Remus and Sirius well enough, them wild, lost boys, but after a year, Lily decided they’ve had enough of the city’s frantic airlessness. Day in, day out scrambling between Mungo’s, the Ministry and the Order made her feel like the frozen traffic, and she wasn’t going to stand another day of accepting the weight of London’s ever-darkening sky into her chest. So they— left. Picked out a cottage in Godric’s Hollow that James and Regulus both pitched in to buy with a shrug (their casual wealth had never ceased to amuse her). And where they had a little more space, a little more peace, it became a little easier to find hours that were just James and Regulus and her, cuddled by the fireplace or having a dinner of spaghetti bolognese under candlelight. Since Reg finished school, they’ve also had the long-yearned-for luxury of full nights together, even though he still had to appease the parents from time to time. And god, wasn’t it sweet to love. At least here, there was a shadow of a quiet, happy future.

But for long months, the horcrux business has seen no progress. Every lead they had led to dead ends. There wasn't even an indication for if their search was over: Riddle had told Slughorn he'd split his soul into seven— but did that mean there were seven horcruxes? Or six? And had he even gone through with it all? Was he constantly making new ones as they pick up on the old? All difficult questions, for sure. If any of the rest of them trusted Dumbledore a little more, the wizened old man probably would have better ideas than turning over the debris of Wool's orphanage again, but alas.

The break did come, eventually. Out of nowhere, it seemed, two pieces of clues flew at them. Within days of each other, Remus and Sirius finally found the Gaunt’s house and Regulus found out about the cave through the incident with Kreacher.

One can imagine the excitement incurred, but they couldn’t and didn’t act directly, all five of them swarming like a hive upon their target. Their positions were precarious now, their every act would be scrutinised as overt Order members or the should-be Death Eater everyone expected to have taken the mark straight out of school. And what if they fail? What if they get found out at one point before they could get to the other? That was the point when Sirius proposed what Lily thought was apparently-ingenious but equally could-be-disastrous. That they split up. If Regulus investigated the cave with Kreacher, and Sirius and James headed for the Gaunt’s house— that leaves Remus and Lily on backup if anything should be needed.

“Lovely.” Remus had grimaced drily, “I shall patiently await my lover’s return from war.”

Lily had chuckled and shoved him. “Don’t be grumpy,” then dropping her voice so only Remus could hear, “I need you to come with me to the hospital… There’s something I need to check.”

Remus’ eyes widened, but he didn’t press for questions, nor protest further.

Such was the prelude that brought them to the present moment, the two of them in an empty house, waiting very patiently indeed. In fact, Lily sat frozen on their sofa, her mind at once stunned and racing. Remus was no longer trying to make comforting conjectures, only had an arm around her and slowly massaged her shoulder. Dear god, Lily thought, and they were only twenty.

Then, with a bang, the front door opened— or fell down, she wasn’t sure— Remus and Lily scrambled up in time to see James and Sirius stumbling through onto the ground in a pile. They were panting heavily, their clothes thoroughly rumpled and charred at places, even James’ glasses was half-coated with soot. His eyes found Lily’s, and he sprung up—

“Lily!” James exclaimed, his hands immediately at her face, touching her cheeks, her hair, down her arms, as if checking she was still real. “Are you— is everything alright?”

“Yes, yes. We’re fine! What happened to you?” Her voice was tight with anxiety. She glanced at Sirius, who impatiently waved off the wand Remus held out to check for any wounds.

“Has Regulus gotten back yet?”

“No! James, what happened?”

“Well, we’ve. We’ve got news.”

For a moment, all the blood rushed to Lily’s head. “Oh. Me too.” She whispered, before she shook herself and returned her attention to the boys. "What–"

"Dumbledore found out. So did Voldemort. Not in that order." Sirius snapped.

“Well fuck.” Remus breathed.

Fuck indeed. Lily did not think the worst could actually have happened. Though this was certainly not the worst possible, given that they all got back with limbs intact, except—

"How do we get to Reg?" Sirius spoke her thoughts out loud. Anxious looks flitted between them.

"Kreacher!” Lily exclaimed, “Can you still summon him?"

Sirius blinked, “Yes. Yes you’re right.” he glanced furtively at Lily’s ‘don’t-sound-so-surprised’ look, then called out. “Kreacher!”

There was a single beat of silence, then the air contracted and swirled in anticipation of a long apparation. In the next moment, Regulus fell through, barely supported by Kreacher, and all four of them fell upon him.

“Merlin, you hoard of hens,” Regulus rasped, before falling into a chain of coughs.

At first glance, Regulus looked horrible. Drenched from head to toe and covered with scratches on his clothes, his skin, as if he’d been pulled out of a mob of pale, thin claws. But Lily could tell, while his face was pale it wasn’t sick from curse or poison, and his limbs were warm under her palm.

James was on his knees, supporting Regulus from his back. Sirius carefully took up one of Regulus’ hands, and Remus, somehow clear-headed, had him dried and the small wounds healed in seconds. And in the feverish assurance that they were together, they were— safe— Lily couldn’t help it, she pulled Regulus’ still-stunned face to hers and kissed him full on the mouth, then pulled James into the kiss too. She squeezed her eyes shut. At least one of them was crying in relief because there were tears mingled with the kiss.

Regulus eventually pulled away. A fearful frown had made its way between his brows. “Voldemort.” He breathed.

James nodded. “He found us first.”

“Ah.” Regulus’ sharp gaze somehow betrayed not a hint of surprise. “How long since you got back?”

“You were only minutes behind us.” Sirius replied, “We had to report to Dumbledore. He’s got to deal with the rest, now. We can’t risk going back out there, he’s seen all three of us.”

“Do you reckon,” Remus suggested, “that Voldemort went on a raging rampage to check up the other horcruxes, before he got to Reg?”

“We think so.” James said, “should have bought you some time.”

Regulus frowned still. “How did he find you in the first place? A curse around the house would have been too detectable, you didn’t fall for something of that sort?”

“Won’t you have some faith in us?” his brother bristled. “We were tracked. By the sort of spell that’s nearly undetectable when cast by familiar magic.”

“...The spy.” Lily breathed.

“Was I right?” Regulus looked at Sirius then. For long, silent moments, two pairs of slate eyes were caught in a bone-chilling stare.

“It’s Peter.” Sirius relented finally.

It’s too much. It was simply too much for the moment. Lily could feel Remus crumbling in waves from beside her. They’d been close. All of them had been close. But not since school, not since— Lily swallowed the reflexive guilt that came pouring in with anger and thought, if only she could hold them together now.

“I assume you’re not still being tracked.” She murmured, taking James hands and squeezing tight.

“No. Dumbledore found the spell and took it off us. Was how he found who it was.”

“I didn’t know you could do that.” It didn’t sound at all like an entirely light magical procedure, rifling through the magic entangled with a person.

“It was invasive. He did what he had to do.” James caught sight of Regulus’ tight jaw, and nudged him. “How was the cave?”

“Fucking Salazer, Potter. How was the cave? There was an army of inferi guarding a locket in a basin of poison, all in all a very scenic visit.” Regulus took a deep breath, “And how was the house?”

“Burning.” Sirius said with a glint in his eyes. “We found the ring. Burnt it on sight.”

“Voldemort knows how to put out Fiendfyre.”

“We got there before him. The house was already engulfed in flames, he could have done anything.”

“Right, this is all great to hear,” Remus interjected, standing up. “But I assume we’re going into hiding now, all of us.”

“Oh yes, to be locked up with these three in their shack.”

“Sirius, please listen.”

“Fine.”

Remus ignored Sirius’ pout. “How do we do this? Fidelius? I know the spell.”

“Right,” Sirius chuckled, hysterical, “No big deal. Just attempt one of the most complex security spells off the top of your head.”

“And how else? You don’t seem to have a book of reference, do you?” Regulus snapped.

“Just let him do it!” Lily worried for herself. For her having chosen to make a family of these boys.

Remus hesitated again, “who… do we want as secret keeper?”

“Oh my god, I don’t care!” Lily yelled. “Make it yourself, anyone, just make it quick. Don’t we have Voldemort himself on our tail now?”

Later, they would apologise to each other for their abruptness, but in the last dozen minutes, the world had turned on its head. Too much have happened, and Lily hoped the alcohol cupboard was well-stocked because they deserved a party after this ordeal.

“Wait. Lily?” James said, just as he stood up to help Remus, “did you say you’ve also got news?”

“Ah. yes.” Lily’s heart instantly went into overdrive. She stared at her lovers, James’ guileless curiosity and Regulus’ vague concern, and knew that this— this utterly ridiculous moment in the mess of a circumstance was going to be branded in her memories forever.

“So I… I’m pregnant.”

#jegulily #james potter #lily evans #regulus black #jegulily week 2022 #sirius black #remus lupin #the horcrux hunt #marauders fanfiction #fix it #everyone lives #this might need some heavy duty editing come morning

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in-ky · 3 years ago

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An Old Scent [1] - Negan x Reader (A/B/O AU)

Summary: During summer break, you decide to come back home to visit your dad, Rick. Over the course of your stay, you realize that your dad's friend is pretty hot.

Warnings: Eventual smut, A/B/O dynamics, cheating, age gap, Negan

A/N: yay first fic! this will have four parts! i hope everyone enjoys. this is an au where the apocalypse never happened. 3.2k words

I squinted as I stepped out into the bright Virginian sun. People swarmed all around me, creating the steady hum of airport ambience that I had grown accustomed to over the years. I had just gotten off a four-hour flight home from college and all I wanted to do was shower and curl up in bed. But I couldn't. Oh, no. First I had to endure a fun thirty-minute car ride with my best friend since second grade. I scanned the curb in front of me for her small black car and caught sight of a tall woman waving at me. I grinned and walked forward, tugging along my baggage behind me.

"Ugh, it's so good to see you, Bee." I sighed as I enveloped my friend into a large hug. She let out a laugh and swayed us gently.

"It's good to see you, too," She hummed, rustling my hair "I forgot how short you were." Bee was an alpha; tall, muscular, and very quick to remind me of our differences. Of course, it was in a 'joking with love' kind of way. I was an omega; small, rounded, and very quick to punch her gently in the abdomen.

"I forgot how much of a jerk you are." I quipped, huffing and wheeling my bag to her trunk.

"Oh, come on, babes, don't be like that," Bee laughed, opening the driver side door and waiting for me to walk back to my side. "Now get in, we've got a lot of catching up to do."

---

"How are your heats going?"

"Jesus, that's what you want to start with?" I scoffed, crossing my arms over my chest. Bee shrugged.

"We don't have to if you don't want to," She clarified, turning out onto the street "I'm just saying, I know they've gotten pretty bad as we've gotten older. Did you try out those tips I sent you?"

"Yea, I did," I said quietly, looking at the trees rushing by on the side of the highway "They worked for a while but..."

"But you need an alpha," Bee sighed, finishing the sentence for me.

"That's the plan for this summer," I agreed "Might finally settle down."

"You know, I'm always here if you need me." She said with a wink. I scoffed at her.

"I'm not that desperate," I laughed, shoving her lightly "Not yet, at least."

"Anyone take your interest back in Colorado?"

"Not really," I hummed, tilting my head in consideration. "There was this one guy. We dated for a few months but towards the end he became a total knot-head. He couldn't keep his hands off me. I thought it was cute at first, but after I started to miss a few classes...well, that shit got old pretty quickly." Bee made a disgusted noise.

"Ugh, men," She grunted, wrinkling her nose "I'm glad I never went through that phase. I'm perfectly happy with chicks, thank you very much. Much less of a pain in my ass."

"Oh, they're not so bad," I smirked "I think it's just alphas in general." She glared at me momentarily and I stuck my tongue out at her. We drove in a comfortable silence for a few moments, just enjoying each other's company. That was always something I loved about Bee. We never had to fill every second with chatter, we could just exist together in the same space and be just as content. She started to hum along to the song that buzzed softly from the radio and my eyes tracked a hawk. Soon enough, we reached our exit and Bee turned the car onto a smaller road, starting the countdown to my arrival home.

"Are you excited to see your dad?" Bee asked, killing the silence.

"Yea, I am," I smiled. We hadn't always had the best of relationships, but the distance that college gave had done wonders for us. A few texts and calls had worked perfectly for us. When he invited me to stay a few weeks during summer I gladly accepted. I wanted to see just how well our relationship had strengthened. Plus I knew he really needed someone.

"How's he doing?" There was genuine concern in Bee's voice. A few months ago, my mom had revealed that she had been having an affair with one of dad's work buddies. She left with him and took my brother down to Georgia.

"I think he's okay. But you know dad, he's not really an emotions guy. He was starting to get some closure but then the divorce papers came in the mail. That really hurt him," I told her, twisting a strand of my hair around my finger. "I just don't know how Lori could do that to him, you know? She won't even let Carl up to visit. The new baby's cute, though. Looks just like Shane." Bee hummed in acknowledgement.

"Well, tell him I said hi, alright?"

"Will do." A few more seconds of silence passed. Until we stopped at a light. Bee looked up and spotted a billboard that sported a very familiar, very handsome face.

"Holy shit!" Bee shrieked, slapping my arm.

"Ow, what the hell?" I hissed, grabbing my shoulder. She pointed frantically at the sign.

"That guy! Isn't that, shit- the hell's his name?" Pulling my eyes from my lap, I let them settle on the object of her excitement. All of the color drained from my face. It was an add for a law firm. There was an old geezer posing proudly on the left, and to his right, was the man who haunted my wet dreams for the majority of high school.

"Negan." I gulped.

"Yea, your dad's hot friend you never shut up about." Bee groaned, pressing on the gas and moving us away from the sign. Negan was a lawyer/make-shift-law-professor and baseball coach at the local community college. He had a sort-of contract with my dad's department. Many times I had come home after school to the two of them puzzling out a case on the kitchen table. Negan was an alpha of alphas, something that got my little omega heart (and other things) pumping until I couldn't breath. His humor and dominating persona made me blush a deep crimson color any time I saw him. Sometimes I would spend hours sitting on the stairs just listening to him talk to my dad. His voice was something else. I had gushed to Bee about him countless times during our times at high school. But I hadn't seen him since my graduation party.

"I wonder if you'll see him again," Bee teased, nudging me again to pull me out of my trance of memories. Then, she did a dramatic gasp. "What if he's your mate?" It was my turn to slap her in the shoulder.

"He's older than my dad!" I squealed, burying my now-blushing cheeks in my hands.

"You're an adult I don't think it matters."

"I think he's engaged."

"Just 'cause there's a goalie doesn't mean you can't scoooore." Bee pulled a face at me and I returned her grimace.

"Whatever, you're lucky we're almost at my house." I huffed, falling back into my seat with my arms crossed over my chest.

"Oh, yea, omega? What are you gonna do?" I rolled my eyes as she laughed off my grumpiness. We rolled to a stop in front of my driveway and a leaned in to give her a kiss on the cheek.

"Thanks so much, Bee, I really appreciate you," I grinned, popping open the door.

"No problem, babes," She winked, unlocking the trunk "But I swear to the gods, you better fucking call me and give me updates on everything, especially if you run into Mr. Hotcakes." I rolled my eyes once more and promised her I would before closing the door. I retrieved my bag and gave her a wave as she drove down the street. When she was out of view, I took a deep breath and turned around, walking up the driveway to the front door.

I knocked heavily on the dark oak door. While I waited for someone to answer, I decided to look around at the home I had left behind about a year ago. My childhood home had changed now and then over the years, but there were still some iconic pieces of memories in the front yard that could never be forgotten. My personal favorite was Eddie the garden gnome. He was a standard gnome: small and stout with a large white beard that led into a pointy red hat. His eyes were shut and his mouth was curved into a smile. However, he was missing a nose. I grinned as I recalled the unfortunate mishap that caused Eddie to become deformed. I was about twelve, and carl was five. He had gotten a kid's baseball from Negan for his birthday and had begged me to teach him how to play, since I was on the local softball team at the time. I relented and set it up in the front yard. Eddie was our outfielder. Eddie didn't have a mitt. Well, he did, but it was his face. Carl absolutely smashed the first pitch I tossed at him and hit poor Eddie right in the face, shattering his round, pink nose into pieces. Carl bursted into tears and I had to promise him that he did not in fact kill our precious protector of our house. Lori ran out frantically and comforted her son before giving me a thorough chewing out for damaging Eddie. We never used the set again. That she knew of, anyways. Negan always let us play in his yard, though. I smiled at the memory, but the clicking of the lock to the door pulled me from my train of thought. The door swung open and I was met with the smiling face of my father.

"Sweetie, I'm so glad you made it!" He laughed, pulling me in swiftly and squeezing me tight.

"It's good to see you too, dad." I croaked, letting out a small chuckle. I tapped on his shoulder as a signal for him to let go.

"How was the flight?" He asked as he stepped out to grab my bag. I told him it was good but that the screaming kids had given me a bit of a headache. He gave a small laugh and gestured for me to enter. I thanked him and he rolled my bag in behind me. We exchanged a few words but as soon as I walked through the kitchen into the doorway of the living room I was hit by a wall. Not literally, no, but rather a wall of overwhelming scent. It was a delicious swirl of campfire and whiskey, with a hint of cigarettes and leather. I paused for a moment, my eyes forced closed and my lungs taking a deep breath of the intoxicating air. Colors danced across my eyelids. My whole body was flooded with warmth and my toes tingled. I felt safe and calm, and there was something else; something deep within my stomach that I couldn't quite identify, something I never felt before. My eyes snapped open when I felt my father's hand rest firmly on my shoulder.

"I hope you don't mind, sweetie, but I invited company over while I was waiting for you to arrive," He smiled at me. I got a good look at him then. He looked the same, his hair was a bit longer, a bit greyer. But his eyes were different. They were darker, rounder, rawer. I gave a soft smile and told him it was fine. He guided me into the living room. It was then I realized where that deadly smell was coming from. Or, rather, who it was coming from. "Negan, you remember my girl." In that moment, I held my breath as I scanned Negan. He looked fucking amazing, just as he always had. Perfect dimples guarding a charming smile, all surrounded by a gorgeous salt and pepper beard. His hair was longer than it was when I had left, not slicked back, but it still framed his face perfectly. Negan's body was draped casually over the sectional couch, legs crossed at the ankle on the ottoman. His arms were on the top of the couch and his wrists were dangling. He knew he was hot. That bastard. I suddenly became aware of his eyes raking over my form and I shifted from one foot to the other.

"'course I do, Rick," Negan said, voice silky and deep. I couldn't help but let a small shudder run down my spine. All I wanted to do was kneel down in front of him and curl up at his feet. I forced my inner omega down, shaking the thought from my head. "How could I forget the little slugger?" I cringed inside at the nickname. Especially the use of the word 'little'. I begged that he didn't still see me as the kid down the street. Instead as a grown woman. A grown omega.

"Hi, Negan." I greeted with a small smile, swallowing to relieve my dry throat. Now that I was next to him, his scent was clogging all my senses. I gripped onto the couch and lowered myself onto the cushion, hoping to ground myself. It helped, just barely. My heart was pounding, my instincts telling me to submit to this man in front of me. Why, though? Why now? He had never smelled this good before. No alpha had. Was I getting close to my heat? I did have a stomach ache, but that could be from Negan alone.

"Hey, sweetheart. How's college goin'?" Negan asked, sipping on his drink. He kept eye contact with me the whole time. Rick handed me a glass of soda and I thanked him.

"It's good!" I said after taking a sip, thankful for the hydration in my coarse throat "Towards the end it got a little hectic, but I was able to stay on top of everything, thankfully."

"You're studying film, right?" He asked, leaning forward and resting his elbows on his knees.

"That's right," I grinned, crossing my legs to relieve some of the pressure the movement caused to build up in my lower abdomen "You still teaching law?" This caused him to chuckle. Literally music to my ear.

"If that's what you want to fuckin' call it." Negan sighed, falling back to his original position, hands resting in his lap "I talk, the kids kinda listen. I just do it for the coaching job, really. You remember how much I love that damn sport, right?"

"Baseball?" I asked, raising a brow "You mean the only thing you talked about at all of the Thanksgiving and Christmas dinners you were invited to?"

"Touché." Negan grinned. Goddamn that smile. Butterflies erupted in my chest, beating hard against my ribcage, begging to throw myself at his chest and bury myself in him. Rick cleared his throat and smiled at me to get my attention.

"I want to know more about your college experience!" He beamed, rubbing a hand through his beard "Any special alphas you've got your eyes on?" I heard Negan choke slightly on his whiskey. A small bubble of pride rose in my chest. I laughed at his words.

"Dad, I don't think Negan wants to hear about my love life."

"Shit, doll, I don't mind," He grumbled "I don't get to hear any drama now-a-days"

"What do you mean?" I giggled, tilting my head "You argue for a living. Your job is to literally deal with drama."

"Yea, but that's complex drama," He growled, waving his hand dismissively "I wanna hear simple, schoolgirl 'he loves me, he loves me not' kind of bullshit."

"Well sorry to disappoint," I snorted, running a hand through my hair "but no, there's no one I have an eye on." Dad's smile turned into a frown.

"Shame." I heard Negan whisper. I wasn't sure if I was supposed to hear it. It was quiet, barely above his breath, and he said it while twirling his whiskey, following the words with a large gulp.

"You really should start looking, dear." Dad said with a sigh "You know it only gets harder as you get older."

"Dad please, I don't..." I cut him off "Listen, I appreciate you trying to understand this stuff, I really do, but I don't really want to talk about it with my father." He looked at me with an understanding smile.

"Sure," He nodded "But if you ever need anything, anything at all, you just let me know, alright." I nodded.

"Well, this sure has been fun, Ricky-boy," Negan grinned, getting to his feet and stretching his arms far above his head. "We do have that big court case in the mornin', though, and I need my shut-eye."

"Big case, eh?" I asked, rising from my seat as well. Dad nodded and excitement sparked in his eyes.

"You should come! It's an open court and I would love for you to see what I do. I know you always wanted to as a kid, but your mom made you wait until you were older. Well, now's the perfect time!" He rambled, grasping my shoulders.

"W-Well, I dunno, I don't want to be a distraction," I stumbled, taken aback by my father's display of enthusiasm. I turned to Negan, as if asking for permission. He just laughed.

"Oh-o, doll, I don't get distracted. Not in there, not anywhere. Don't you worry about a goddamn thing. You should come, Rick seems like he really wants you to."

"Okay, then," I grinned, nodding in commitment "I'll see you there in the morning then." I looked up to Negan and we locked eyes for a brief moment. But in that moment, something within me quivered. He brushed up against me and smirked down at me.

"See you tomorrow, sweetheart. It was nice to see you. You're lookin' great." It took all my willpower not to let out a whimper as he walked past me, taking his glorious scent with him.

My dad said that he should also get some rest, but that I could stay up as long as I wanted to. I was pretty wiped from my flight so I opted to follow him up the narrow staircase, tugging my bag behind me. I hugged him goodnight and stepped into my room. It hadn't been touched since I left last summer. The forest green bedspread was still perfectly tucked into the mattress and two plump pillows were perched at the head of the bed. My muscles ached for the soft release of sleep. I put my suitcase down by my dresser, taking a moment to smile at some old photos of me and Bee as kids. I showered and brushed my teeth before getting into the comfortable bed. I looked up at the ceiling and giggled softly at the glow-in-the-dark stars shining overhead. I took a deep breath and closed my eyes. I wasn't thinking of anything in particular, but for some reason, all of my dreams were plagued by the sweet smell, sound, sight, feeling, and taste of Negan.

#negan x y/n #negan x reader #negan smith #negan x you #alpha!negan #omega!reader #a/b/o kink #twd a/b/o #a/b/o dynamics

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whomst-art-thou-whomst-whomst · 3 years ago

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Time Raiders: Or, And Here You Were Thinking The Lost Tomb’s Wu Xie Was The Worst Case Scenario Gay Disaster

Coping with stress and deadlines=comfort shows…not 100% sure how this universe became my comfort shows but here we are.

We open with your usual “What the fuck” background wherein there’s a snake empress and her bae something something scheme and we meet our Zhang Qiling—we actually get to see the qilin that is contained?represented? In his sweetass tattoo before we get a brief history of Wu Xie as a prepubescent house-breaking disaster who achieves one (1) coin that Will Be Significant.

Zhang Qiling is a grumpy little fucker, not yet in his hoodie noir aesthetic stage but slightly more sociable here! if by sociable we mean he gets into fights during the usual Wu family “this will be easy peasy haha nothing to worry abt” pre-tomb raiding get-together, where he finally encounters bebe Wu Xie! Who is being an adorable pain in the ass getting in everyone’s way because after all it’s a day ending in y.

The precious deer himself, Lu Han, is our Wu Xie. I actually found myself really enjoying his portrayal—he just looks incredibly innocent and sweet, nonstop 🥺, with a mischievous little smile. Also, we get facets of Wu Xie’s personality established here that foreshadow how he will grow into the mess we all adore and facepalm over: his intelligence and curiosity outweigh silly things like “basic self preservation” and “not dangerous shit” and we get a glimpse of that dark humor. On the pingxie front, we see the origins of his immediate and relentless insistence on Getting To Know Zhang Qiling, aka the beginners guide to stalking someone.

Normal people: nice to meet you, how are you doing?

Wu Xie: *assigns Zhang Qiling a name, aims gun at his own face to test Zhang Qiling’s niceness, takes pictures of him every five minutes*

Zhang Qiling: hope this doesn’t awaken something in me—

Xiao Ge is thus clearly in crisis from the beginning where he is first to flirt (?????) by…cutting off Wu Xie’s necklace and then handing it back to him? Idk maybe this is second base for the Zhangs. Anyway it’s clear that he’s already like “isn’t there a cutie pie moppet club meeting that’s missing its president oh god I think he’s cute fuck fuck fuck”. The rest of Wu squad isn’t as fleshed out; Wu San Xing seems borderline competent, which is weird for the wine uncle, although Pan Zi is his usual perky BAMF self. We get Pangzi yayyy!! Albeit at first not on the pals side. Currently working for Hendrix, an old white man kinda explorer who watches from his high tech little lab. Also Pangzi def brought a microwave burrito to the tomb raid and he’s right—and frankly Ah Ning can do whatever she wants, she’s sexy and badass.

There’s also a strange moment where Zhang Qiling asks Wu Xie the question everyone in the audience, his entire family, god, tomb zombies etc have wondered: why are you, with your dark academia outfit and chipmunk charm, here on this trip? And we actually get a straight answer!! From WU XIE OF ALL PEOPLE. He’s trying to figure himself out as a person, he is incredibly curious, and he has peak bebe of the family energy in admitting that the more people tell him not to go, he wants to go. Although to begin with, his main role is nerding out and snapping pictures of everything while flirting with Zhang Qiling. Love that for him.

Meanwhile, Wu Xie is like 🥺what if…our first date was in this tomb?? And Zhang Qiling is like, I have no choice but to kiss you, I mean protect you, …and we get these big smiles and outright laughs from him??? Which isn’t the Xiao Ge I know, but for some reason I think it fits here with sheltered lil Doe-Eyes McDimple.

And then there are spontaneous tornadoes and something happening in outer space. Sure. Tbh at this point in this universe I’m not even surprised. Something something snake empress, something something key, etc. The tomb-raiding plot unfortunately interferes with what was shaping up to be a great first date for pingxie, and Wu Xie sets off a cool lighting system for what is undoubtedly the first and last time he will ever make a good decision in a tomb raid.

Sure enough, like two minutes later he plays with some little puppet musical instrument and the puppet’s eyes MOVE. Upsetting. And then the tomb trap fuckery commences—hallucinations, choreographed dance/escapes from swords, pingxie’s first dramatic “catch you in my arms” and Wu Xie participates in the long tradition of “twink plays the flute to ward off bad shit” Good times. I do like that we get a glimpse of how selfless Wu Xie is capable of being—he ends up on a collapsing floor and is all #pingxiepriorities and wants to get Zhang Qiling’s memories for him via camera instead of worrying abt his life. Classic xiaoge 🙁 and Wu Xie 💀 😍 situation

A summary of the peak action scene:

Time Raiders: there aren’t any snakes in this one

Me: oh whew what a nice break

Time Raiders: there are extremely aggressive worms

Me: what

Time Raiders: also a Venus fly trap woman

Me: …

Time Raiders: how about some steampunk type inventions? We got those too.

#time raiders #whomst #the lost tomb #pingxie

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weelittleweasley · 4 years ago

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bar maid (b.w.)

prompt: a long night at the leaky cauldron and the late shift can only mean one thing: a boring night. but when a new face pops into the bar, the mood shifts drastically.

pairing: bill weasley x fem! reader

warnings: drinking, mentions of the war, language (literally once), sexual references

word count: 4.5k

taglist: @harrysweasleys @gcdric @lumos-barnes @whizboingies @lumosandnoxwriting @pxroxide-prinxcesss @c-t-h @another-lonely-heart-blog @starlightweasley @parseltongueswriting @shilohpug @peachypotter @vogueweasley

“Another round of ale, Albert?” you ask with a smile as you wipe down a section of the bar from its previous attendants. The damp dish towel wipes across the mahogany bar, leaving streaks that shine underneath the bar lighting, the faint smell of chemical lemon lingering in the air mixes with the overwhelming scent of lager and spirits.

Albert flashes you a toothy grin and gives you a shrug. “Eh, why not. It’s a Friday, isn’t it?” Albert laughs before sliding you his brass mug down the length of the bar as you stealthily catch it in your hand. You fill the mug with amber ale, teeming with white foam, smelling of wheat. “You’re too good to me, (Y/N),” Albert tells you with a grin before taking a sip of his usual drink of choice.

You were a bar maid at the Leaky Cauldron and Albert was one of your regulars. Now, you didn’t think that you would be a bar maid after graduating from Hogwarts and trying to become a professor, but the world had a funny way about it, didn’t it? Being a bar maid meant you got good tips and had the luxury of creating your own schedule, but it also meant when you worked, it was long hours of standing on your feet and serving cheap ale and lager to annoyed businessmen and exhausted workers from the hours of five o’clock to two o’clock in the morning. Work was grueling, but you tried to make as much fun of it as you could.

“It’s the least I can do, Al,” you sigh, flopping the dish towel over your shoulder as you lean over the bar. “Any juicy gossip for me today? I’ve been bored out of my skull since I clocked in and I still got another five hours ahead of me. I need some entertainment,” you groan, cracking your knuckles against the wood of the bar. The thought of another five hours dealing with more alcohol, more grumpy patrons, and another tired night made your head ache.

Al takes a long sip from his mug, wiping the foam from his upper lip before speaking, “Not much gossip, I’m afraid.” You throw your head back and groan, taking an annoyed sip from your water. “Nothing interesting has happened, my dear,” he huffs in just as much annoyance as you. “We’re living in dark times, all news is usually disappointing, scary, or both. I’m looking for something hopeful just as much as you are,” Al confesses.

You tighten your ponytail and push your baby hairs away from your face, hands flopping on your shoulders as you slump over. Albert was right. The thought of a looming wizarding war over everyone’s heads was enough to keep everyone living in fear of when it would all come to a head and pop. At least working at the pub took your mind off of things, even if it was just for a few hours of the day.

“However,” Albert’s tone changes as you dart your eyes to him, curious. “I’m not sure if you’re familiar with the name Fleur Delacour? I heard through the grapevine that she has recently started working at Gringott’s. Desk job, but people were confused as to why should would come all the way to London for a silly desk job,” Albert explains before sipping from his ale again.

Your eyebrows furrow as the name does ring a bell. “The name sounds familiar. I certainly didn’t go to school with her or else I would know who she was. But the name is oddly recognizable...I’ll ask my younger sister when I speak to her next. She’s at Hogwarts now. I’m sure she’d know,” you tell Albert. “Anyone else take up a job? Familiar names or faces?”

Al searches his memory for anything else. He presses his tongue to his cheek. “Yeah, there was someone else. William...I don’t remember the surname for life of me, but it was William something...” he trails off.

You think for a moment, trying to scan your brain for a William that you might know. But you drew blank. It had been so long since you saw anyone from your graduating class. You had spent most of your time in the pub or studying or applying for new professor jobs. But no one was looking to hire an under-experienced professor in these times, no matter how good your marks were at Hogwarts, regardless that you were top of your class in Defense Against the Dark Arts and Potions. The thought makes you infuriated because you knew you could teach this new generation of wizards better than anyone else.

Shaking your head, “Well, whatever, if he was important, you would know his name.” Albert shrugs. “I need to go bring in some kegs from the back, I’ll be back in a second,” you tell him before go around the bar, walking to the back of the Leaky Cauldron, hearing snippets of conversations here and there, most people talking about the news or their families. It was sad; just two years ago people would be roaring with laughter, telling stories and jokes, recounting happy times. Now, everyone was so focused on how the world as you knew it may be crumbling around you.

The cool fall air wraps around you as you push the door to bring the kegs from outside in as you pull your jumper over your hands to make some make-shift mittens. “Bloody hell,” you whisper to yourself as you see three kegs lined up outside for you to bring in. “Seriously, Tom?” you groan as you grab one keg and start dragging it. “I don’t get paid enough for this, I swear,” you grumble.

“Need a hand?” a voice interrupts you as you drag the steel keg across the cobblestone.

You look up and your eyes meet a pair that you haven’t seen in years. An instant smile rises on your lips as the all too familiar red hair is swept in the wind. “You’re kidding,” you laugh as you stand up straight, brushing off your jumper as he smiles widely at you with a chuckle. “Bill Weasley as I live and breathe?” you laugh as you run towards him, Bill engulfing you in a large hug. Your arms wrap around him tightly as he picks you up, your feet leaving the ground as you giggly madly as Bill sways you back and forth.

It had been years since you had seen Bill Weasley. The two of you had attended Hogwarts together in the same year and became fast friends. You had always admired how Bill was so smart and confident in himself (borderline arrogant, but in the sexiest best way). Bill was a popular one at Hogwarts, but through it all, he always managed to make time for you since you liked staying out of the lime light. Bill was well-loved and revered at Hogwarts, so it was obvious that he became a prefect during your time. And that’s when you two started to drift apart. He became busy doing his things and you became busy with your own studies. After graduation, the two of you went your separate ways, but you always wondered where he had gone.

Bill sets you down on your feet, his hands still on your hips as he smiled brightly down at you. He looked so mature now, longer red hair tied back in a ponytail, but he was still tall, thin, and undeniably handsome. The hunter green jacket he sported clung onto his tall figure, underneath a button down that was unbuttoned just enough so you could see the chest hairs that poked out from the loose material. Hanging from his ear lobe was a fang earring that wasn’t there before. Bill had changed, but in a way that caught your eye in a way that has never happened before. You gulped.

“Godric, (Y/N), you haven’t changed one bit,” Bill laughs as he takes a good look at you as you mentally curse that you had been wearing something different than your old blue jumper and leggings with stained boots from the bar. “How long has it been? Seven years?” he speaks as you nod. “Bloody hell, it feels like yesterday we were at Hogwarts,” he recounts the memories fondly as your heart warms to the same memories.

You smile brightly, “Time flies, Weasley.” He chuckles. “We can talk more about it if you help me bring in these kegs and I’ll treat you to an ale on the house. Or are you more of a lager man?” you ask as you walk back over to the steel kegs that wait to be dragged into the pub.

Bill chuckles as you grab one keg, starting to drag it into the pub. Without any hesitation or effort, Bill picks up the remaining two kegs in each of his hands, muscles flexing underneath his jacket as he shakes his head. You gulp and avert your eyes, trying not to focus on the way he so effortlessly carried the heavy steel kegs as you pushed yours in. “More of a whiskey kind of guy if you got any of that,” Bill tells you as you push the kegs towards the back of the bar, Bill places his two next to yours. “I didn’t know you were working at the Leaky Cauldron.”

Walking back to the bar with Bill by your side you speak, “Yeah. Been working here for a while now since there seems to be a hold on hiring newer, younger professors,” you roll your eyes as Bill laughs. Bill remembered how badly you wanted to be a professor and teach the younger generations of wizards and witches magic. It was your dream, but now it was on pause. “What about you? Why are you back in London? Last I heard of you, you were in Egypt!” you nudge his arm with your elbow.

He gives you a smile, happy that you had been keeping your tabs on him. “I was in Egypt for a long while. Loved it, really. But I came home to help my family out with the Order and such. I’m working at Gringott’s now at a desk job. Very exciting, I know,” he rolls his eyes as you giggle, making your way behind the bar.

A William working at Gringott’s. I should have known, you think to yourself. “Hey Albert,” you call over the man who sits just a mere stool away from Bill. “That new William who's working at Gringott’s now? It’s not just any bloke, he’s a Weasley,” you smile at Albert who looks over to Bill with a look of realization. “Bill, this is Albert, one of my regulars. Al, this is Bill Weasley, we went to Hogwarts together.”

Bill gives Albert a firm shake shake and warm smile. “Nice to meet you, sir,” Bill beams. “You’ve been in good company with this one, I’m sure,” Bill winks as Albert chuckles lowly.

“That I have been. She’s great company and serves an even better mug of ale,” Albert speaks as you smile sweetly at him, Bill laughing. “I would love to stay and chat longer, but I gotta get home to the family,” Albert tells you and Bill, putting on his coat before digging into his pockets and places and handful of coins on the table to pay for his drinks and tip you generously as he usually did. “I’ll see you on Monday, my dear,” Albert calls as he walks towards the door, you giving him a salute goodbye.

Bill speaks, “He seems like a good guy.” You nod as you take out a glass and start to pour him a generous glass of Fire Whiskey before placing it front of him. “How did you know I take it neat? What if I wanted it on the rocks?”

You give him a knowing look. “I know you, Bill. Last time I checked, you were drinking Fire Whiskey straight from the bottle at your graduation party,” you recall with a light chuckle as Bill groans at the memory. “You were off your rocker that night, I’m tellin’ you,” you start to laugh harder, remembering how Bill stood up on the dining room table of the Burrow, singing along to music that he blasted as everyone laughed and sang along with him. Graduation was such a happy time in your young adult life, you wished you could go back and relive it.

He rubs his face with one hand and speaks, “We were a mess that night, weren’t we?”

“We? Don’t drag me into this, Weasley! I was perfectly happy having one drink, but it was you who made me drink bloody Daisyroot Draught! The smell now makes me sick,” you contort your face with disgust as Bill laughs. “I will admit though, I’ve missed you quite a bit,” you confess, playing with the edges of the dish rag in your hands as you look up at Bill.

Slowly, a smile finds its way onto Bill’s lips as your heart flutters gently as his eyes look into yours. He still had the same eyes that you adored so fondly as a child and teen. In his eyes contained all the memories of Hogwarts and late nights and sleepover at the Burrow. His eyes had laughter and joy in them that you so missed during times like this. You missed Bill Weasley. For more than one reason.

“I’ve missed you more than quite a bit,” Bill reveals as you allow heat to rise to your cheeks. “I missed having my partner in crime around. Sneaking into the kitchens and then getting caught by McGonagall,” he recalls.

You laugh, “Stop, and then she asked if she could join us!” The two of you are in hysterics at the memory of eating leftovers and sweets in the kitchens with Minerva McGonagall as third year students, chatting about school and life after Hogwarts. McGonagall had always taken a liking to the two of you. She always said that you two were peas in a pod.

Bill smiles and takes a sip from his whiskey before speaking, “How long are you working tonight? I’d be happy to stay with you until you clock out.”

Your eyes widen and you shake your head, “Oh no, I couldn’t ask you to do that. I’m the closer and we don’t close the bar down until two in the morning.”

With a cheeky smirk, Bill huffs, “Well, we’ve got a lot to catch up on and we got...” he looks at the clock on the wall, “four and a half hours to kill. So, start talking, (Y/N). We’ve got all night,” he speaks, dropping his left eye in a wink as you smile with a blush.

-----------

For the next four hours, you and Bill caught up on everything. And by everything, you mean everything. His life after Hogwarts sounded much more interesting than what you had been doing to keep busy. Bill had been spending his time as a Curse-Breaker for Gringott’s, going on missions throughout Egypt, coming home to London here and there. You smiled as he recounted his stories with such passion and love in his eyes. It was evident that Bill loved what he was doing and he was sad that he couldn’t continue doing his job, now being stationed back in London at a boring desk job. Quite the downgrade from fighting and defeating mummies to working an office job.

Soon, people were filing out of the bar as closing time approached until it was just you and Bill in the pub. You had moved from standing behind the bar to sitting on a stool next to Bill, leaning on the bar as you listened to his deep baritone voice speak to you.

Bill placed a hand on your knee, giving it a squeeze. “(Y/N)? Tell me something,” he speaks.

“Anything, Weasley,” you smile at him, sleepily.

Bill chuckles, “Why are you working as a bar maid when you could be going out and doing what you love? Teaching. You’ve always wanted to teach students magic and it doesn’t seem fair that you are parked behind a bar pouring ale and lager to lazy blokes.” You roll your eyes and shake your head. “I’m serious. What’s stopping you?”

You sigh and recount everything that has held you back from doing what you want. First off, no wizarding school in the United Kingdom was hiring any professor right now due to the climate of the wizarding world. The only other option was moving to America and maybe teaching there at Ilvermorny? Maybe Beauxbatons in France? But it wasn’t a guarantee that you could find a job with such little teaching experience under your belt. “Besides the hiring freeze? I have no experience teaching, Bill. Plus, I want to make money for myself right now so I can save it up and move into my own place rather than living in my small flat with a bunch of my mates. The only other jobs are abroad and I do not have that much money to make a move like that. Besides, my whole family is here. My friends. And you’ve just come back now and leaving just seems illogical,” you sigh, knowing that your dream would have to wait.

He shakes his head, “Excuses, excuses.” You shake your head and take a sip from the whiskey that you had poured yourself, the amber liquid warming up your chest and stomach. It tasted like graduation. “If I can teach a year at Hogwarts, then you certainly can. Besides, you were just as good, if not better, than me in Defense Against the Dark Arts. I’m sure they could use your help more than ever right now.”

Looking up at Bill, you see how tender and soft his gaze is on you. He really meant every word he spoke to you with genuine honesty. Looking at Bill now was like looking at someone who you had known forever. He really hadn’t changed one bit. He was witty and kind and smart and sweet. Your Bill. But at the same time, he was different. He had become so mature and ruthless and brave. It was a new Bill, a Bill you could get used to.

You look down and see that his hand was still placed on your knee. Clearing your throat, you shift in your seat and Bill retracts his hand, digging it into the pocket of his jacket again as you take a sip of your whiskey. “Well,” you start, “I know I would be a better professor than you...I’m better at a lot of things than you,” you tease him as he rolls his eyes.

“Oh yeah? Do I smell a challenge?” Bill laughs as you shrug. “Ah, ah, don’t start something you can’t finish, sweetheart,” he leans back in his chair, tongue pressed to his cheek as you gulp, the nickname making your palms sweat. “Go on,” he speaks, daring you to challenge him. “You chose.”

Trying to ignore the rapid increase in your heart rate, you swallow hard. “Fine,” you smile before reaching over to the other side of a bar, grabbing a jar filled with a red liquid and multiple bright red cherries. Twisting the cap open, you pluck out two maraschino cherries, one for you and one for Bill. “I can tie a cherry stem with my tongue faster than you can,” you smirk, flirtatiously biting the cherry of its stem as Bill’s eyes widen and he gulps, shifting in his seat.

He clears his throat, “Yeah? How much you wanna bet?”

You think for a moment, trying to find a wager that would make this worth your while. “If I win, you pick up the tab from tonight,” you smile.

“I thought this was all on the house?” he scoffs with a smirk.

“Not if you lose,” you sing song, making him roll his eyes. “And Albert told me about a new worker at Gringott’s. Fleur Delacour? Yeah, you’ve gotta ask her out on a date,” you smirk.

Bill’s eyes widen. “Fleur?!” he exclaims with a laugh. “She’s my co-worker! Plus, we’re just friends. Nothing’s there,” he reasons as you shake your head.

You laugh, “Well those are my terms if I win. Gotta get you out on the dating field, Weasley.” You tease him as he smirks, looking down at the whiskey glass in his hands. “And if you win?”

He thinks for a moment, swirling the whiskey around and around in his glass, pondering what his terms would be. Bill bites the cherry off the stem as you watch his lips move carefully, like you were in a trance of some kind. You quickly shake it off, trying to keep yourself from getting distracted by him. “If I win,” Bill huffs, “then first of all, the drinks are on the house. Second, you’ll have to stop by the Burrow because once Mum hears that you’re in London, she’ll have a cow,” he laughs as you giggle. Molly Weasley, what an angel. “And third of all,” he speaks, leaning forward on his elbows so he’s closer to your face as you inhale sharply, “I’ll ask whoever the fuck I want on a date.”

Your heart stops for a moment as your whole body tingles as the words all from his lips. You can’t take your eyes off of his you are frozen. Bill smirks at your reaction before slowly leaning back in his chair, biting down softly on his lower lip as you gulp. “O-Okay then,” you manage to make out, trying to reorient yourself as Bill chuckles. “Count of three?” you speak before placing the cherry stem in your mouth as Bill does his. “One...two...three.”

With that, the two of you start twisting your tongue around the cherry stem, trying to tie it before the other could. Your heart is racing a mile a minute and your stomach is doing flips as your mind is screaming what the hell is going on. The entire time Bill doesn’t take his eyes off of you, staring into yours. The act felt so inherently sexual that you could feel your palms sweat and a second heartbeat between your thighs grow. This was a terribly good idea.

You can feel the cherry stem in your mouth finally slip into a knot as your eyes widen in victory, hand flying up to your mouth so you can show Bill the work you have done. As you hand reaches your lips, Bill’s fingers slyly pull his cherry stem out of his mouth just mere milliseconds before you. “I win,” he speaks.

“You cheated!” you instantly accuse him, pointing your finger at him.

Bill chuckles, “How did I cheat? I won fair and square and you know it, you sore loser.”

You shake your head, “I clearly won, you saw me! You had to have cheated, just so you could get free whiskey out of it!” Bill just shakes his head and grabs your chair, pulling you closer to him as you fail to notice as you keep rambling nervously. “Admit it, Bill, you just don’t like to admit that you’re not Hogwarts’ golden child anymore. You’ve out grown that title. Step aside for the new winner which is me, of course. You know I won, come on, Bill. I def-”

“(Y/N)?” he asks softly.

You realize that you are mere inches away from Bill now, his hands resting on either side of your stool. You inhale slowly and gulp, trying to calm yourself down to prepare for the inevitable. “Yes, Bill?” you respond just as softly.

“Shut up,” he whispers with a smile.

“Okay.”

Without further hesitation, Bill leans forward and connects your lips together as you inhale deeply, kissing him back and wrapping your arms around his neck instantly. Bill’s hands slide around your sides before hoisting you onto the bar, him standing between your legs as he kisses you deeper. You wrap your legs around his torso, drawing him closer to you, needing to feel his body pressed against yours. His lips move against yours with deep desire that he had been saving for so long and finally, you both were getting what you wanted for so long. His mouth tasted of the whiskey as you took more and more of it, drunk off of his kiss.

His hands held onto you tightly, not daring to let you go as you lightly moaned into his lips, making him smirk. Bill’s tongue was cool against yours as he massaged yours with his, snogging you right in the middle of the bar. Your mouths moved together, lusting after the other’s touch. You hands ran down his chest and his abs as he groaned gently into your mouth, making your stomach flutter as you smirked softly. Bill’s hand cupped your cheek before making its way to the back of your neck, pressing your lips harder against his.

You wanted to take him in this pub just like this, but Bill pulls away before you can push off his jacket. The two of you are breathless from kissing, chest heaving up and down, a smile on both of your faces as you blush a wild crimson. “You win,” you surrender to Bill who chuckles.

“I always win, sweetheart,” he winks before kissing you again, this time short as you whine when he pulls away. “And since I won, that means that this whiskey,” he points to his glass, “is on the house, you’ll be joining the Weasley’s for Sunday dinner, and on Monday night, you’ll be taking the night off so I can take you out on a proper date rather than just snogging on the bar of the pub,” he speaks as you laugh.

You run your fingers through his hair, “You mean you do like snogging me on the bar?” you tease him.

Bill furrows his brows, “Hey, hey, slow your roll. Don’t put words in my mouth now.” You laugh, placing your hands on his shoulders. “There’s nothing I’d rather do than snog you in every location of his pub,” he winks as you roll your eyes. “But I reckon a girl like you should be taken out on a proper date by a bloke like me, eh?”

Pressing a chaste kiss to his lips, you speak against them, “It’d be my honor.”

“Wicked,” he smirked, giving your sides a squeeze before hoisting you down from the bar. “How about you lock this place up and I’ll walk you back to your flat. Can’t have precious cargo like you roaming the streets alone,” he speaks with a gentle tap on your bum as you roll your eyes.

You shove his shoulder teasingly, “Hey, just because you came back from Egypt, Mr. Big Shot, doesn’t mean you make my decisions for me.” Bill chuckles as you smile, “But yeah, I’ll let you walk me home, Weasley.”

#bill weasley #bill weasley imagine #bill weasley x reader #bill weasley x reader imagine #bill weasley x fem! reader #bill weasley x feminine! reader #bill weasley x you #bill weasley x y/n #bill weasley fic #bill weasley fanfiction #bill weasley x mc #bill x reader #bill x y/n #Harry Potter #harry potter fandom #harry potter fanfic #Harry Potter Smut #harry imagine #bill weasley smut

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shurisneakers · 4 years ago

Text

shut in [12]

Summary: When your high profile mission goes terribly wrong, you’re forced to hide in a safehouse with a man you’ve never met before. With seemingly nowhere else to go, you’re forced to work together to figure out who is trying to have you assassinated before it’s too late. (Sam Wilson x Reader, Hitman AU)

Warnings: anxiety, ptsd, abuse, death

Word count: 2.7k

A/N: two more chapters to go after this + an epilogue i haven’t written yet fdkjghdfkhg. things pick up next chapter don’t worry. i’d love to know your favourite parts so far if you have any!!

i also appreciate feedback so if you would like to, please consider dropping me an ask or comment ly guys!

here’s my ko-fi if you’d like to support my writing <333

Previous Part || Shut In Masterlist

Your first home, from what you could remember, was the overcrowded hall you shared with kids in and around your age.

There was too much noise. Always too much noise.

Even when the children were in their classes, there was always someone whose cries you could hear in the distance when they realised they had nowhere else to go, peals of laughter during lunch breaks, excited whispers when someone came to visit, nervous excuses when belongings went missing.

The orphanage you were brought up in was no place for a child. It was underfunded and an utterly miserable sight. But you made your first friends there. A fiery redhead and a boy who resembled a puppy with his shiny blonde hair and blue eyes. Their names escaped you now.

Within structured schedules and learning to stow away candy left behind by volunteers so that they weren’t taken away by others, you found relief. You didn’t have a family. Caregivers came and went more than the seasons changed. But maybe what the girl and boy gave you came close. As close as six year olds could get, anyway.

They were picked before you. The red head left first, and a few months later was the last you saw of the boy. You often wondered where they were, how they were doing. You never truly got answers, but it wasn’t like you went searching.

You waited another year. They didn’t return. By then a man with a leather jacket who suspiciously wore sunglasses indoors had filled out the paperwork for you and two other kids. You had never interacted with them before until then. A few years down the line you were the only one of the three that remained anyway.

Your second house was in a dark hall. You weren’t allowed to roam around on your own; no one cared if you were 8 or 18. If you needed to be out of the way, you’d be out.

The man who pulled you out of the orphanage you never saw again. A secret adoption, you found out years later, so that no one would know of your existence. All the paperwork he filled out would have mysteriously been destroyed. To the world, you never existed and outside the organisation you were simply another kid who slipped through the cracks.

He disappeared after you were introduced to another who looked to be in his late twenties. He nicknamed you Buttercup, introducing you as the newest member of his cartel. He told you you were delicate, that he’d give you purpose you didn’t think you could have.

The room was inconceivably small. It barely squeezed in a bed and a small closet with a few changes of clothes. It was dark and congested but it enamoured you. Something to yourself. You didn’t have to fight over it with others who had just as little as you.

The man let you hang around with him. He’d show you the artillery, the large fighting rings with men in them beating each other half to death, the rooms he’d hold meetings with where the lighting was a little darker than the rest. He said it made him look menacing and they needed that where he was working. You giggled.

You found a home with the man who was razor sharp and acidic but insisted it was out of love. You wanted to impress him so badly; begged him to let you in the ring, to wield a gun. He’d only shake his head no, saying that he was waiting for the right time.

For two years you were invited to see what would happen if someone disappointed him. Your first encounter with death was a man who had dared to run away. A bullet in his head later you realised that was the best way to kill someone. His favourite way. And you just wanted to be his favourite.

He didn’t take it easier just because you were ten. He only stopped them from fully killing you.

“All these broken bones will heal,” he had said, “but you will always remember the pain. The minute you forget, it will happen again.”

So you didn’t forget. You observed and tried, and kicked yourself twice for every one mistake you made. Every time you’d look towards him for approval, he’d shake his head and point out everything wrong. You hated it. You hated it so fucking much.

The rage you kept building had only one outlet, the one he provided. So it became instinct. It was all you knew.

You found a home with a man you wanted to impress so bad, you never stopped to ask for what. To him, it was repayment for giving you purpose.

When you were fourteen you realised that no, the feeling in your stomach wasn’t from the previous week’s sparring session. It was butterflies. And for the grumpy new kid nonetheless.

He was your age, but missing an arm and couldn’t remember how or why. You didn’t ask him many questions. He was silent, and a little grouchy, which you didn’t like. But you did like when he offered his hand to you after a fight and you did like the nice smile he occasionally had.

You found a new home with his silent company and non-judgemental looks. He always seemed a little sad, like he was searching for something else. He was an excellent marksman and wasn't bad at hand to hand either.

He’d hang around your new room, one that was bigger than your initial place. You’d talk about new techniques you picked up. He talked about how he wished he remembered where he came from.

He was a friend. You needed one.

You remembered the night you were roughly shaken awake to the same boy saying he was going to be taken in the morning to the other centre. A permanent shift for reasons he didn’t know.

You didn’t get a chance to ask how or why, but in the flurry of him explaining that he had to go before someone noticed he left his room, he pressed a kiss to your lips in a rushed goodbye and ran back to the darkness. You were dazed for the rest of the night. You didn’t see him in the morning.

When you asked Ransone why he was gone, he mutely said that he was a distraction. You couldn’t afford one. He didn’t explain any further, no matter how much you begged.

Similar friends found themselves entering and exiting your life just as this boy did. You stopped keeping track. It hurt too much to wake up one morning to learn they weren’t there. You wondered why the influx of kids never stopped if you weren’t supposed to be friends with them.

You realised years later that they were sent there to be ripped away from you as soon as possible. To toughen you up.

He wouldn’t get rid of something immediately, not if it could be used to hurt you.

Your first mission was when you were fifteen. It was a small time thing; go threaten a man in his house so that he thought twice before crossing Ransone again. You did exactly as you were told, except while you were leaving you heard the cocking of a gun. You spun around and shot him in the shoulder, temporarily disabling him as you left. He cowered on the ground.

You couldn't find anyone as you stumbled back to the centre. There wasn’t a friend who you could vent to. All you had was Ransone. He congratulated you on your first shot, ignoring the trembling of your body and the redness that rimmed your eyes.

You realised that his approval didn’t mean so much to you anymore. If your only purpose was to harm, it wasn’t what you wanted. Not like you had a choice.

Then there was Scott, only brought in for minor things like breaking and entering. He was a funny one and you found yourself spending more and more time with him whenever he did show up. You pulled away when you realised that he was going to end up gone like the rest of the people when Ransone realised that you were paying more attention to him than you should.

He was a sneaky one though; climbed in during nights only to disappear by dawn before anyone saw. He was infectiously light, different from the darkness you were used to seeing. You sought out his brightness, his warmth and he happily gave it to you in unlit corridors and midnight trips that had your adrenaline spiking.

Scott lasted longer than anyone else. They didn’t consider him important enough to pay attention to and he never gave them any chance of doing it. He was, what you wanted to believe, your first love. Or what it felt like anyway, love was scarce and so you clung onto whatever he offered.

There was a home in Scott that you wanted to keep alive. You found solace in his flustered repetitions and occasional cheesy magic trick. He made you laugh, and it lit up his face when you leaned over and kissed him gently.

When you got the news that he was killed in a heist gone wrong, you didn’t feel anything for days. The man who broke the news to you looked at you with undertones of pity.

Everyone knew it wasn’t an accident.

You didn’t bring it up with Ransone and simply ignored it when he called it a good riddance even though he would be missed. If you listened to everything he said, you were afraid that you would just kill him.

It was excruciating. You didn’t have anyone to talk to. Only Ransone, as he kept reminding you.

“I’m the only one who cares about you, Buttercup,” he cooed and you clenched your eyes shut. “We’re family.”

No more relationships happened after that. Occasional coworkers-with-benefits but nothing that crossed that. You hadn’t had a friend in years, and Ransone was more than pleased to keep it that way. He was the only constant you’d had your entire life, willingly or not.

People were placed in your way to only inform Ransone of what new updates were in your life. Once they sent whatever information he needed his way, they’d automatically be removed. Everyone had a hidden agenda. Everyone had a specific reason to want to talk to you.

You just let them. What was the point of trying to hide it? You weren’t going to escape any time soon.

“Your only home,” Ransone reminded you, “is here with me.”

You rebelled, many times. Some looked like they would last. In the end you’d return to his dingy office for your next mission because as much as you despised him for the things he had done to you, the guilt over the things he had done for you overshone. Having him as your enemy would be worse than having his convoluted sense of love shoved down your throat until you were forced to accept him.

And that’s what it had been like until now.

You try and take in as much as you can of the house you’re standing in right now. What you used to find restrictive and a crude form of punishment, you found calming. The mundane nature of everyday life was charming.

It wasn’t a vacation, you reminded yourself. But the same feeling of emptiness returned every time you thought of your next move.

You didn’t want to leave. You didn’t want to go back to what you once thought was a home.

You’d eat a thousand dry peanut butter sandwiches over and over again for the rest of your life before even considering going back. You didn’t care for the lack of twenty-first century technology.

You were feeling things you had shoved away years ago because it wasn’t a life meant for you. Now that you were forced to live it and see what it could be like not living in a fight-or-flight mode every second, you can’t see how you ever survived this long.

But still, you had told Ransone that you were returning, and it was a promise he would expect you to uphold.

You tried to remember as much as you can of your time here. The way the sunlight feels against your skin in the morning, the sugariness of the jelly that was basically finished, the worn out tactical clothing from the wardrobe, the leather of the couch clinging to your skin as you rewatch the same three movies time and time again.

You tried to remember the first time you were introduced to the target board, and the range you and Sam had crafted together. The path to the specific tree and back on your runs and the grass that had wilted along it from contant treading.

You sat on the porch stairs for hours, leaning against the pillar for support. The first house you lived in was too loud, the second was too quiet. But this; this was just right.

Sam joined you eventually in the silence. You were grateful for the company.

“Have you decided on a day?”

You nod, looking straight ahead into the darkness. “Tomorrow.”

“You sure? Our timing has to be right.”

“Yeah.” Your voice is coarse. “I’ll have to tell him.”

He nodded, leaning his elbows on his knees. He was too tall for the stairs, looking like he was crouching instead of sitting.

His voice dropped to a whisper like it’s a secret only meant for you. “In case Ransone sees me and decides to…”

He gestured lewdly, sighing when you peer at him in confusion, “...kill me, you need to continue-”

“Stop talking,” you interrupted him quietly. You don’t even want to think about that possibility.

“It can happen. I hope it doesn’t, because it’s a waste of a perfectly good face,” he continues but you just shake your head, trying to drown him out. “Then promise me you’ll do your best to get out. This life isn’t for us, Y/N.”

“I’m not going to let you die,” you muttered. “Not this time.”

“I’m not saying I will, honey,” he continues in a hushed tone, not disturbing the silence built around you, “But it’d make me happy knowin’ that at least one of us gets a shot to live another life. And I know you make good on your promises.”

You were so tired. Of everything. Knowing that you’d be dragged back into it only made the pain sharpen.

“Scout’s honour,” you vowed. He let out a smile at the memory of the last time he used it, lifting his arm to put over your shoulder as you scoot in closer to him.

You sit like that for who knows how long. The night fell hours ago but you don’t want to let go.

“It’s gettin’ pretty late,” he commented.

“I don’t want to go.”

“You’re gonna need some energy for tomorrow.” He’s right, but you don’t want to admit it.

“It’s your turn at the bed tonight,” you evade it.

“You can have it,” he debated softly. If it was your last day there, then he’d do anything to make it the best one.

You’re stuck by an idea but you weren’t sure how he’d react. It wouldn’t be a big deal on the surface but you hadn’t ever done it before.

“Would you maybe-” you trail off.

“We can share,” he finished your thought, pulling you a little closer. You needed comfort. He knew that.

“Thank you,” you whisper.

He only pressed a kiss to your temple, letting you sit out for as long as you needed.

Calm.

The woods provided excellent coverage while also giving him a clear sight of the house. The two of you sat on the porch together, speaking quietly to each other, out of earshot.

It didn’t matter what you were saying now. He had already heard what he needed to hear.

“Get ready,” the agent said hushedly into the intercom, “they’re leaving tomorrow.”

Next part

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tender-rosiey · 4 years ago

Note

How are you? Can i request a headcannon with chuuya and dazai who have an s/o whos obsessed with gambling but has jnsane luck so they win most of the time. thank you i love your work❤️

❥ Chuuya and Dazai with a gambling obsessed s/o

ᴀ/ɴ: I am honored that you like my work and I hope you enjoy this as well 🥺💘

Dazai Osamu:

*plays that one TikTok*

KAKEGURUI MASHO

BAAAAKAAA ✨

SONNA MONO WA NAI

YAHAHAHAHA 😹

Sono tsume hoshi na

TANOSHIMOU ZE 😩

Sore ga i na 👁👅👁

Oh wait oops

Let’s proceed properly

He loves seeing you win

And he is your number one supporter in your gambling games

He does figure out how to win too but let’s you figure it out yourself cause he knows you are just that good

If someone thinks about cheating, they are getting called out by your boyfriend in the nastiest way

Like in a way that would drag their reputation to the dirt 😃

He does worry sometimes that you might bet on too much money because as we know, no one wins everything

But he is there for your rescue, may it be threatening them or convincing them to let you off the hook

Which leads to a scolding of how you shouldn’t bite more than you can chew and you responding with “Life is full of risks and this is one of them-“ “No we are gonna be broke at this rate.”

Another way of confronting said loss is “Belladonna, I adore how you love and are dedicated to gambling but you need to know the limits of your betting.”

He takes pride in seeing you win and the look of shock and disappointment as well as disbelief on your opponent’s face

He likes how passionate you are about what you love

But of course there are days when he will force you to sit at home and cuddle with him

Because in his words

“Y/N YOU CANT JUST LEAVE YOUR BOYFRIEND FOR GAMBLING >:(“

He does gamble against you at times for fun tho

Not that it makes no difference in who wins or who loses since the money always comes back to you two either way

But he still likes to win and rub it in your face at times

“What’s the matter, belladonna? Cant win against your wonderful and handsome boyfriend?”

Then will compensate with kisses and cuddles

And if he loses

Then he sulks like a baby and gets the kisses and cuddles

Oh yeah he told the agency about your love for gambling :0

Yosano likes to gamble with you as well 😌

The others just watch and observe 👁👁

Wait this popped up in my head suddenly

Let’s say you accidentally bet on a human

Bad y/n, you need to know what you bet on >:(

You will obviously let them free because no

But you guys became friends with said human

And now hang out

If said human was a man then Dazai Osamu would not leg him get near you

And act all cheerful but you know him better than anyone

He kept clinging onto you once said human was out 😚

Chuuya Nakahara:

“FUCK YEAH BABY SHOW THEM WHO IS BOSS!”

I think that sums up everything

Now go on your merry way children of mine

Jk jk

Apart from being your biggest hype man to the point that if anyone thinks about insulting you they will get the chihuahua Chuuya which will throw endless insults and roast the hell out of them

He is always and I mean always there for your gambling games

He is shocked by how lucky you get most of the time

Other times he returns grumpy cause he is the one to pay and he isn’t that good at gambling so there is no other way

Does he scold you when you guys get home?

No, but you will get a glare

And you will have to repay him somehow 🙄

Sike he will glare again if you give him money to make up for what he paid but this time it will be with a kiss on the forehead

And he will remind you that he does all of this because he loves you and doesn’t care for a make up or compensation

He does want you to teach him how to gamble

Chuuya doesn’t like sitting like a dumbass who knows nothing about the rules when wanting to play against you

I think he would search about the rules before starting to go with you to your games

So he can hype up and cheer for the right thing

No one cheats while playing against you

Your dear boyfriend has bodyguards around the man or woman to see if he or she does any sneaky moves

Btw first time he played against you he lost (obviously) and was raging

but when he saw how you were happy to defeat him, a soft smile replaced it and he blurted out “you look so gorgeous when you are happy.”

Which you teased him about it later on for three weeks

This is why we don’t let go of our emotions so easily chu chu 🙄

Everyone knows about your obsession in the Port Mafia

Mori is actually impressed by it and has asked you to play against him multiple times

Now to the human that was accidentally bet on situation

He wouldn’t even let him stay a second with you guys

“Dude that’s messed up, no; run away from here.”

Say no to human trafficking

My country has posters about it all around these days

Anyways so yeah

Chuuya is soft and won’t handle seeing someone being treated badly like that while they are innocent

May I remind you again that he loves puppies and got emotional watching it’s movie in wan

AND

He helps old women pass the road

Moral of today’s post is

Get yourself a Chuuya

It’s cute, tough and will protecc you (ง'̀-'́)ง

And it’s so soft for you and your cuddles

do not copy or plagiarize or you will be reported

269 notes · View notes

citydreamgrls · 4 years ago

Text

they were roommates - part one

a weasley twins x fem!reader fic

summary: she had nowhere to go, fleeing home to pursue something along the lines of freedom, so being welcomed into the entrepreneurial twins life was a whole world of new experiences waiting to happen.

an: i would just like to point out that this isn’t a fic with a polyamorous relationship, sorry if that was what some people wanted, instead i wanted to keep which twin is the love interest a secret until the end. if u guys want to guess after reading this first part, feel free to do so, i would love to hear your guys’ reasons too !! secondly, i would like to say a huge huge thank you to everyone for getting me to 600 followers, that’s absolutely mad like i’m blown away beyond compare, i love u all millions and billions i really am so grateful so thank you . hope you enjoy this first part, as always, <33

words: 5,790

warnings: swearing?

None of the nights seemed to turn into excitement, but this particular Tuesday evening in the Leaky Cauldron was passing slower than the rest had done. The paintings on the walls cast their weary eyes over the few lonely drinkers scattered across the dim room as even they contemplated calling it an early night. Y/n flicked through an old magazine and wondered if this place had ever seen much action, or whether the inn had become somewhere that paintings came to rest alongside grumpy travellers.

The girl hadn’t worked behind the bar long, only a handful of months now. But since then not a single bar fight had broken out, no one ordered anything out of the ordinary, and she struggled to remember seeing a single nice man pass through the doors. Besides the Weasley twins of course, who were running late for their weekly drink.

“Slow night?” Hannah came up behind her, carrying a stack of clean glasses and placing them under the counter. The girl swiped away her magazine and nodded, doing her best to hide the guilty blush that grew on her cheeks whenever she lied. It had always been a curse.

“I can do that if you want,” She offered, taking over and letting her boss stand up straight again. There was a strange air of awkwardness between the pair, despite the fact that they had grown close since she had started working as a barmaid.

“It’s been like this a lot lately, just… empty.” Hannah huffed, pulling up two stools and letting the younger girl sit beside her for a while.

“Yeah, makes the time pass a lot slower.”

“Neville’s getting worried,” The woman chewed her lip, gazing around at the lack of people. “He thinks it won’t be long before we need to do something drastic.”

“Should I be worried?” Y/n asked, knowing everything rode on this flimsy job.

Just as the girl posed her question the two front doors burst open, revealing the Weasley twins along with two others that she recognised from their past visits.

“I’ll talk to you later darling,” The boss stood, squeezing her shoulder and going to greet the regulars who she knew so well.

As Neville appeared from the back office to do the same she was called over to the far table by a man who she’d already brought too many drinks to. With a sigh, she obeyed his whines, and went over to see what he wanted.

“About time sweet cheeksh,” He slurred, his head propped up by a weary arm while the other gestured wildly as he spoke. “Another round darling-” She nodded, taking his money from the table and turning to leave, but he reached out for her hand.

She shivered beneath his touch, the stench of bile and alcohol filling her nose as she tried not to vomit on the spot. It was best to just ride out whatever he wanted, knowing better than to anger any kind of customer.

“Why don’t you join me when you get those drinks sorted- I haven’t got another chair but I’m sure my lap would do nicely.” He grinned, showing off the layer of yellow on his teeth.

Y/n gulped back her grunt and pretended to smile, sighing with relief when he let go of her and slumped against the wall beside him. The feeling of his hand lingered on her until she managed to distract her mind a little, smiling wider when the twins came up to the bar to order.

“Evening boys,” She sniffed back the nerves and greeted them with a polite welcome. “Not giving you trouble was he?” One of them asked, nodding over to the drunken mess.

“Nothing I can’t handle,”

“Well you let us know if not,” The other chimed, their charms always making her feel comfortable around them. Which was much more than could be said for most of the creeps who roamed the inn each night.

“That’s very good of you both, thank you-” Her smile never faltered, they always had noticed that, “What can I get for you then?”

“Two hog’s heads, one rum and I’ll have…”

“Come on Fred,” The other nudged his brother, the girl finally able to differentiate them, that was until the next day when she wouldn’t be able to recognise the clothes they chose.

“Firewhiskey would be great thanks y/n,” He smiled sweetly, leaning up against the bar as she rang up their orders on the till. He delved into the pockets of his trousers as George left to speak to Neville a bit longer, placing the money in her hand. “Keep the change too,” “A-are you sure?” She stuttered, looking down at the remaining 3 galleons in her hand.

“George never tips, so consider it his debt too.” The boy scoffed, leaving to join the rest of his group. The girl pocketed the money before anyone else could see her doing so and went to fix the drunken man his seventh drink of the night.

He grumbled about how much work he did that no one appreciated, as his eyes raked over her body in a queasily slow trance. The man didn’t stop at that, further pressing her to sit on his knee and let him feel her up. Crude remarks fell from his lips as if he’d relayed them to every woman he’d come across, as if it was second nature. All the while, she stood and let him ramble on, doing her best to ignore what he was saying and just nod along mindlessly. This wasn’t even the worst one, the girl sighed to herself, grimacing at the way his fingers toyed with the hems of her skirt as if he was going to try and slither inside it.

With perfect timing, Neville called her back to the bar, faking some questions about the menu so that she had an excuse to dismiss herself from the dog’s company and scurry off. She heard him call after her, but couldn’t make out what exactly it was he was saying. The girl prayed that he was too drunk to actually get up and walk over to the bar, or else he would become truly relentless.

No matter what, y/n always smiled, regardless of who was talking to her or at her. And when she wasn’t dealing with the unruly men of diagon alley, she was happy, she was lucky that she had a job and somewhere to stay. She had no reason to be unhappy.

Fred and George liked that about her. That in such a dimly lit, run down little place like the cauldron, such light could shine through with her presence. Both of them had mentioned it once on their drunken walk back home one night, that they wished they could afford to hire someone else at the shop because she would be perfect for it.

Y/n always smiled because most of the time she was a happy person, until there was no reason to be happy. She discovered that dreadful sinking feeling later that night once the pub closed and the girl was finishing up with her cleaning.

Neville and Hannah were speaking in hushed voices nearby, words that she couldn’t make out over the sound of her brush swishing over the stone ground. But they continued to glance over at her when they believed she wasn’t watching, which made her heart tighten with nervous anticipation.

“Y/n… darling.” Hannah’s sweet voice sounded through the empty room, startling her slightly. The girl stood up straight and smiled, a sight which made her boss want to cry on the spot. None of this was going to be easy. “Could you come into the office with me, please.”

She followed, her hands shaky as she left the broom leant up against a lone table. The door shut behind them with a finalising jolt as the woman sat down before her, prompting her own body to do the same.

The air became thick, and constricting as her knees locked together politely. Hannah seemed just as nervous as she, delaying the inevitable by shuffling paperwork around and shoving into nearby drawers. Finally the movement ceased and she had no choice but to bite the bullet.

“I know we already spoke today, about how the business is going here, and I promise that Neville and I have tried to do everything we can to get around this. But I’m afraid we’ve been left with no other choice y/n.”

The sound of her name felt like a stab, one short sound that cut through her skin and deep into the bone. The girl dwelled on that feeling, hoping that whatever followed would hurt less in contrast. It didn’t.

“We have to let you go y/n,” The knife plunged deeper, somehow splitting open all her organs on its way through her body. She froze, knowing that in this moment her world was falling apart all around her like dominoes.

“A-and the room? I’m supposing you need it?” Her voice was wavering, constantly on the edge as she confirmed all the priorities.

“I’m so sorry,” The gesture was appreciated, but it did nothing to help in the moment as the now homeless girl’s mind raced.

“Thank you anyway, for the past few months.” It was a sudden bravery that brought her to her feet as she announced how she would pack her things right away.

In truth, she needed to be alone, just for a few minutes. So she could let it all go, cast a muffliato and sob away her worries for a small amount of precious time. Hannah didn’t dare follow her, knowing nothing could fix it for the younger girl, instead she brought the bottle of gin from the bar into the office and took long, thoughtful sips until it was no longer the only thing playing through her mind.

When the girl gathered her things and apparated down to the front door with them, Neville was there with a sad smile upon his face. Only giving her a brief goodbye, before swiftly leaving to busy himself with yet another maintenance job around the building. He never was one for complex emotions, so she didn’t think bad of him for escaping an awkward situation.

Y/n opened the front doors, seeing the pouring rain before her and almost bursting into yet another round of tears. Not that her red raw eyes could take it much longer. Maybe it was because she had been standing up for the good part of eight hours, or maybe just the pitiful sight of the gloomy street before her was enough to make her knees shake. As if they were going to buckle beneath her and send her crumpling to the ground.

But she shuffled forward, her trunk following behind her and she had quietly charmed it to do so. Admittedly she didn’t have a lot, when she had decided to try and live alone it had become a rushed affair to say the least. So she only owned a number of outfits within that case, along with some books and other little items she had deemed important enough to bring alone. That, and her guitar case, which loomed over her shoulder like a stalking figure in the night. The one thing she definitely didn’t have, was a coat to shelter her from the oncoming rain.

The girl walked a few steps, round the side of the building, and found a pile of crates to rest on beneath a small dripping canopy. It was dry, for now, and it gave her a chance to think properly. She needed to figure something out fast.

But y/n’s mind was full of white noise, watching puddles form between the cobbled pathway before her and thinking how she used to love the rain as a child. It had been relaxing and beautiful from the safety of her childhood bedroom, the window facing her parent’s courtyard as she watched them leave for work each morning.

Back then they would both turn and wave, with a generous smile on their faces, always reminding the young girl how they wished to see her when they returned. They were always happy when she was a child, the three of them a cacophony of laughs and giggles. Until it stopped. Her parents worked together, but never left the house together, and neither of them stopped to wave her goodbye, no matter how many times she waited for them to do so. They just stopped being happy, and as y/n shifted her weight upon the damp crates she realised that maybe her once beloved parents were never happy at all.

They became distant. To one another and to her, even more so as she grew older and became her own person. They tried to oppress it, probably seeing her joyful exterior and constant smiles and not recognising where it had come from. Not either of them. It angered them further, seeing her be such a resilient person, because they wished for her to feel the same neverending hurt they had caused one another. Regardless of the fact that it wasn’t her emotion to own.

Y/n remembered the night she was handed a file by her father, feeling stunned to have been called into his study while he was working. Often he would go inside and not appear for days at a time, so she knew whatever it was, it had to be important.

She read over the words he’d laid out for her, detailing their plans for her, what they wanted for her future. It was a plan of her life, given to her by two people who couldn’t be bigger strangers. But it wasn’t hers, it felt nothing like hers. She wanted to be someone, and she wanted to do it for herself, not because her parents feel it’s financially best.

The words, writer… and prophet echoed constantly around the page as she tried to make sense of it all. Her father barely looked up from his work as she struggled to remain calm, her lungs losing all motor function as she felt her stomach twist and turn. That was when she realised she had to leave, do something for herself.

Rain had been such a comforting thing for y/n, when she was a child. Now it covered her like a plague, and drenched her down to the bone as she did all she could to forget about that life. It had been her home, her playground, her school. It had been her whole life, without much chance to be free in the rest of the world.

Now it was nothing. She wanted it to be nothing. There had to be something she could do, there had to be somewhere she could go. Because that place was no longer an option.

“Y/n?” A voice made her head whip up, the tears on her cheeks easily disguised as the rain if it wasn’t for the way she snivelled to herself. She hadn’t even felt herself begin to cry, yet here she was, and it was a pitiful sight to see.

The light was bad in the alley, but when the two tall figures got nearer she recognised them instantly. Her heart broke a little more to see the worry in the twins’ eyes as they quickly took in the sight of her cramped body amongst her belongings.

“Are you leaving town then?” She thinks it was George, asked, he had been the one wearing a black shirt when she’d seen them earlier. The girl was in a daze, her head taking in their words a lot slower than it should have been as she begged herself not to cry in front of them.

To them, she looked like she was in a dream. Her eyes glazed over even as she glanced their way, making it look like she wasn’t really there with them. George’s question caught her off guard a bit, the girl looking as though she had forgotten where she was as she looked around her with bewilderment. Then the look of confusion fell to one of despair when it clicked once again, she was all alone.

“I suppose I am.” Even the two men could hear how her voice begged to break as she spoke with an airy tone. This was the first time they had seen her anything but bright and smiley.

It broke their hearts, in all honesty.

“Do you need somewhere to stay the night?” Fred, this time, asked. He knelt down to meet her eye level, their tall forms always towering above her at the best of times.

“We have a particularly comfy couch at our place,” George added, following suit with the kneeling.

“It’s got five star reviews,”

“And probably a few galleons hidden down the back if you’re lucky.”

Their smiles made her giggle, and it was all they could have asked for in the moment.

“That’s very kind of you,” Her sweet tone was back, like she’d taken control of her head again, “But I couldn’t ask that of you two.” It was her default to be polite, not wanting to be a burden to anyone. It was the one thing her nanny had taught her before being let go when she was twelve, not to ask anything of anyone but yourself.

“Nonsense,” Fred stood up, taking her guitar case that was leant up against the brick wall and swinging it over his shoulder.

“Really, I’ll figure something o-out - it’s fine!” She tried to protest, but the twins had already decided her fate. George lifted her trunk with ease, and Fred held out a hand for her, prompting the girl to clumsily lift herself off the jumble of crates with his assistance.

“Come on then,” They said, starting off towards the brighter part of diagon alley.

She didn’t move, Fred having let go of her as soon as she steddied herself again. They looked back at her, both frowning with the same face as she tried not to laugh at how they were so similar they even acted like one another.

“Well you better come with us-” “Or else it’ll look like we’ve robbed you!”

The girl just looked down at her feet, feeling as though they were only doing this because they couldn’t leave her out in the rain. Which was true. But the twins knew that she was someone worth helping out.

“Do you have anywhere else to go?” George asked, shifting the case into his other hand nonchalantly as they waited for her to come along with them. Silently she shook her head, embarrassed to meet their eyes as she admitted defeat.

“Then what are you waiting for?” Fred chimed in, still wearing their signature smile.

Y/n couldn’t help but return the sentiment, she didn’t have to be alone for at least one night. That was something to smile about, so she smiled. Her feet surged her body forward, a small skip noticeable as she reached the two patient men.

“We do look like we’ve just mugged you.” George laughed as they all walked through the alley and towards their shop, her little life packed away and in their hands. The girl slotted between them, having to catch up with their longer strides every now and then, as both twins chatted away as if nothing was amiss.

“Here’s the palace itself,” “Our pride and joy!” They announced, ushering her into the shop lined with all the products an excited teenage wizard could wish for. The shelves seemed to be full to the brim, some things piled up as a display. As haphazard and chaotic as it looked, y/n couldn’t deny that the bright colours shimmering off everything she could see instilled a happiness inside her that she rarely felt as a child. This would have been her dream when she was younger.

The twins’ shop was well known in the alley, by almost everyone who visited the leaky cauldron. Yet she had never dared step inside it herself. Most days she would have been busy with jobs around the inn, and on the off chance that she ventured around any other establishments, it was purely for essentials.

The two men watched as she scanned all that she could see from the doorway, her eyes wide and inviting with each new discovery. They would see kids come in every single day with the same reaction, yet with her it seemed new. It was if she had never seen a toy before.

“Have you eaten yet?” Fred asked, weaving through some unopened boxes to reach the stairs. Even on them there was an endless supply of treats to be found.

“I’m not hungry… thank you.” She followed behind him, slowly, with George closing up the front doors and setting up security wards.

“That wasn’t the question silly,” He laughed, catching up. “Have you eaten tonight?”

“No- but I’m really fine without.”

Once they reached the very top of the long set of stairs, past the ‘staff only’ sign, a door was kicked open in front of her. The apartment inside was a sight for sore eyes, and also the furthest thing from what y/n had envisioned on the walk there.

From how high they had gotten inside the shop, the girl presumed that the flat above had to be pokey and a lot smaller than what she was seeing. It was like a large loft, with brick walls and two levels and these huge windows that looked well over diagon alley. She could see all the lights of muggle London shining amongst the dark sheeted sky.

“My rooms up there, and George is through there.” Fred explained, nodding towards the opening to a small hallway and setting down her things in the excess of open space they had. It was comfortable.

“And here’s your bed!” The other twin exclaimed, throwing himself onto the huge sofa that stretched beneath one of the windows and came out into the room in an L shape. They weren’t lying when they said it was comfortable, because she could tell it was even by looking at it.

“Right! I, for one, am starving.” Fred announced, walking through to the open kitchen, his footsteps echoing on the floor as he went. “What about you y/n?”

The girl was too busy staring out the window to hear him. She’d never seen the city this way before. Her old house was well out in the country, and the alley didn’t give much of a chance for enchanting views. It seemed as though this was the exception.

“Just make her something, she’s busy.” George chuckled, watching her from the sofa. The girl turned and looked at him confused, but the man just shook his head with a smile. “Nothing important,” He whispered and let her go back to the hypnotising view.

As they sat down to eat together, George asked y/n many questions about her life, determined to learn all he could about her in one evening.

“Let her swallow first will you!” Fred huffed, passing her a glass of water so she didn’t choke in the process.

“I was homeschooled all my life, well- up until I moved really.” The girl smiled politely, trying not to go into too much detail with her answers. The two men were so kind, though, that it was hard not to tell them everything she’d been holding in. “So you didn’t finish it all?”

“I left before I got the chance to,”

They nodded in understanding, but she could see the cogs turning in their heads as they both took another bite of their food, all in unison. She snickered a little, enjoying the way they effortlessly put on a show with their mannerisms.

“Did you run away!” They both cried out, startling her as she sat across from them.

“W-well… I um- yes I d-did really.” A wry laugh sounded as she spoke, an out of place sound amongst the shock that displayed over Fred and George’s faces.

“Woah, did something bad happen?”

“George! You can’t just ask that- you don’t have to tell us if you don’t want to y/n.” Fred rolled his eyes at his brother, but the girl felt a sense of relief that they asked, it felt nice to have the chance to tell someone after keeping it to herself all this time. It felt more out of place to not tell them.

“It’s okay,” She chuckled at them both, “My parents weren’t very happy people, and they both kind of kept their lives centered around work. I had no problem with it, either than the lack of freedom I had at home, but it changed when they basically showed me a plan for my life.”

The twins listened intently, nodding along with her words and silently reacting accordingly. They both frowned with the last bit, never hearing of someone having their lives planned out for them before.

“They planned your life? Isn’t that a bit, you know-”

“Controlling,” Fred finished, a look of pity on his face.

“We had different ideas, they wanted me to be a writer at the prophet when I’d shown no interest in journalism or even writing before.”

“That’s mad,” George said in a hushed tone, not wanting to cut her off.

“It was then that I realised the only way I was going to do what I wanted, was if I left. So I just packed my things and came here, hoping to find somewhere to stay with what little money I had. Hannah was nice enough to take me in free of charge, so long as I worked behind the bar for it.”

“Both her and Neville really are saints.” “It’s so much better than I could have asked for, but now they can’t afford it. It’s all understandable, it’s just a pain that I can’t ask my parents for help.”

All the while that she recalled her story, the girl smiled, reminding the men that she was a lot stronger than people might assume. Given what she’d been through, it was amazing that she hadn’t broken down already.

“We’ll figure something out for you, all of us.” Fred smiled, glad to see colour in her cheeks now that she was in the warmth of their loft compared to the drizzly alleyway.

“It’s not the end of the world if your parents don’t support you either, there’s plenty more people in the world who will.” George reassured her, wiping his mouth with a napkin.

“Oh godric yeah,” Fred joined in, “Our folks went bloody mental when they heard this was what we wanted to start up instead of finishing at hogwarts.”

“Do they like it now?” She asked cautiously, feeling a little better knowing that they too skipped out on their academic life.

“They have to, given how well we’ve done.” “It is hard to deny our success,” They chimed like songbirds, the passion they had for their self made business shining through their wide eyes.

It was no surprise that the three of them got on, but as the night progressed quicker than they thought, the new trio found themselves with no awkward silences. The clock above them looked as though it had been enchanted when George finally glanced up at it, amazed to see that they’d been chatting for four hours already.

Only when y/n yawned did the two twins decide it was maybe time to call it quits.

“It’s getting late,” Fred spoke up, not wanting to keep the girl from her much needed sleep. It must have been a long day for her. “I’ll grab you some blankets.”

As he disappeared up into his room to look for something to keep her cosy all night, the girl helped George clear away their mess from dinner.

“I feel awful,” She smiled politely, handing him more plates to place into the sink that was doing all the work for them.

“What for?” The man seemed genuinely surprised.

“We spent all that time talking, but we never decided on what to do with me.” She scoffed, feeling like a child needing their help. “I promise I won’t hang around much longer, I’ll sort something out.”

“Like what?” He didn’t mean to sound harsh, it was more to show her that they were her only option right then.

“I-I’m not sure… sorry.” “Don’t be sorry, we want to help you.”

The door to Fred’s bedroom opened again and they fell into silence, the girl slipping back into the mindset that she was growing into a burden for them. She couldn’t ask anymore of them, they’ve already done enough for her. Then and there, y/n decided she would leave in the morning.

“Bed’s ready!” The shout came from the living room, where blankets had been laid over the sofa beneath the window. “Thought you would enjoy the view here.” Fred added when she came out to see his masterpiece.

“That’s hardly a bed!” George scoffed, laughing at the copious amount of cushions he’d left for her head, all different colours and sizes.

“It’ll be perfect, thank you.” She smiled, her eyes sparkling under the city lights that spilled into the room. It didn’t even matter that they would reflect against the ceiling as she slept, it looked like stars.

“As long as you like it then,” George muttered, eyeing his brother who clung onto a smug grin.

“Goodnight y/n, sleep well.”

“Night y/n.” They both smiled, turning to head off to their respective rooms as she opened up her case to look for something to sleep in.

“Night Fred, night George… thank you again, for all of this.” They both nodded at her words and disappeared, leaving her to change in the dark loft, only a small lamp beside her lighting her way to the sofa.

She clicked it off, casting lumos and stumbling over the fluffy rug to curl beneath the many layers of covers that Fred had left her. The girl chuckled to herself, peeling one off and folding it in a neat pile on the floor. Two would be just fine for one night.

It didn’t take long for her to drift off to sleep, the whole day’s nonsense catching up on her and slipping her body into a mini-coma. Her mind ran and slowed all at once, memories of nights she would spend in her childhood bed, reading books for hours on end until she’d fall asleep with the pages sprawled open beside her.

Many nights she would hear her parents scream at one another, that harrowing wailing sound would echo for hours until both of them grew tired and they decided to sleep apart yet again. That’s when she knew she could relax, she could finally do all the things that she wouldn’t have time for in the day between her tutor’s classes and meaningless chores.

She had been a night owl, revelling in the time she got to be truly alone, when the house slept she would come alive. Now, she couldn’t stay awake even if she wanted to. She needed to sleep, and fast.

Y/n vaguely heard a door opening and closing, unsure whether it was real or her mind replaying memories all too vividly. Either way, her eyes were far too heavy to open themselves and check. It could wait.

Fred cursed himself for not catching his bedroom door behind him, the noise booming across the loft. He waited, frozen at the top of the steps, watching to see if the girl would rouse at the sound. But he was in luck, she didn’t move a muscle.

He padded down to the bottom, making sure each step was lighter than the last as he headed into the small corridor. George jolted awake the second his door was opened, reaching for his lamp to see who was intruding on his sleep.

“What the fuck!” He almost shouted.

“Shut up! She’s sleeping in there!” Fred hissed, walking over to the empty side of the bed and sitting down calmly.

“So was I you git- what the hell are you doing, since when did we start sleeping together?”

“Disgusting-”

“I didn’t mean that,” George rubbed his eyes with a grimace and reluctantly sat up, “What do you want then?” His voice finally hushed to match his brother’s.

“I have an idea,” Fred started.

“Yes,” “Well, I’ve been thinking about y/n-” “If this is you coming to tell me about another sex dream, I don’t wanna know, okay?”

“Will you just shut up and listen to me,”

“Fine, fine, go on.” He pulled the covers over his bare chest, feeling suddenly exposed to the cold night’s air.

“Well, we’ve been saying for ages that we need someone to work in the shop, except we can’t really afford it right now.” Fred explained, and George nodded along. “Look, y/n needs somewhere to stay, but she would never stay here without giving us some sort of payment, right?” The man’s head looked like it was on a spring as he took in the words. “So, why don’t we let y/n stay here with us and in return she can help out in the shop?”

“Do you think she’d agree to that?” “It was basically the same agreement she had with Neville and Hannah, except we have no reason to get rid of her.”

“I suppose so,” He didn't sound overly convinced.

“She needs somewhere to stay, we need someone to work, it’s a win-win situation!” Fred exclaimed, smiling like a mad man to try and convince his brother that their plan could work out.

“Okay, fine. We can ask her in the morning.”

“Great, I knew you’d say yes.” “Well it’s not like she’s the worst person to live with, it hardly took much to sway me.”

“Not the worst person? Come on George, she’s great!” Fred, admittedly, got a bit too excited at this. His voice ringing out louder than he’d wanted it to.

“You have had a sex dream haven’t you?” “Oh shut up!” “Was she in it,” George teased, prompting his brother to get up and head for the door. “So i’m taking that as a yes.” He turned the light off, hearing one last hiss from Fred before the door shut behind him.

“Aren’t you forgetting the time you had a sex dream about Mcgonnogall?” Fred quipped, leaving quickly as not to get a beating up from the other twin, who was mentalling cursing himself for ever revealing that fact when they were drunk one time.

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padfootagain · 4 years ago

Text

Grumpy

Hi everyone! I'm back with a very cute little drabble for Christmas! We're one week away from Christmas, and I'll try to post a few of those little drabbles before the 25th!

This is a very cute, grumpy Ben with a cold! I hope you like this!

A little comment is greatly appreciated, if you have a second to spare!

Pairing: Ben Barnes x Reader

Word Count : 1672

Ben was grumpy.

It wasn't in his nature, and it wasn't in his character at all. He was a rather shy, goofy and quite adorable man with a mischievous sense of humour most of the time. There were only a few instances that brought him to a more bitter state of mind: the remnants of a hangover in the early morning, being stuck in traffic for a long time, and being sick.

And now, Ben was sick.

Nothing dramatic, but a seasonal cold that would have disappeared in a few days. But for the moment, Ben was in the dark phase of the disease.

A runny nose, a sore throat that was sometimes scratched with a rough cough, fever and a migraine that made him feel like someone was piercing his skull with needles. He had no energy for anything and was stuck in his bed, under a pile of blankets and pillows you had brought for him.

And it would have been bearable, had you been there with him to distract him from his miserable state, give him cuddles and bring him regular doses of his favourite tea. But you were at work, and he had to survive four more hours without you. And the more time he spent on his own, the grumpier he became.

It was snowing outside upon London, large snowflakes brightening the days of children and turning the old city into something a little enchanted, a little magical. Low clouds almost as white as the snowflakes they released hovered lazily above the tall buildings and worn-out stones, businessmen hurrying under the cold weather while the more innocent kinds carved faces for snowmen and threw snowballs at their friends. Cars of those reckless enough to try to drive through the city under this weather honked loudly, punctuating the rhythm of the city that never slowed down, especially at the approach of the holidays. And Ben would have loved the spectacle it offered, had he moved to his window to glimpse at the outside world. He would have dragged a chair by the window, and enjoyed a warm cup of coffee while watching peacefully as the snowflakes fell in his garden. Or perhaps, had you been there, he would have enjoyed looking at strangers running down the slippery street, imagining with you crazy lives for these people he didn't know. You would have found an astronaut in their midst for sure, you always did, for some reason. Ben's theory was that it was because of how much you loved the stars.

But again, you were not there, he was alone in your shared home with a buzzing brain that was slowly turning into jelly, and sore limbs, and a nose that wouldn't allow him to breathe. And now, the snow annoyed him, the cold weather the cause of his pain, after all.

He checked the time again, and heaved a desperate sigh as he counted – with much difficulty – how many more hours he had to survive through without you. He had never cursed your job more than now, as he grumpily mumbled a string of curses under his breath, wrapping himself even more in his blankets until the only part of him still visible was his forehead and messy dark hair.

He counted the minutes till you'd be back to fall back to sleep, and he spent most of his afternoon tossing around, somewhere between sleep and reality, in a daze that wasn't peaceful and didn't bring to his tired frame any rest. He reached for a book after a couple of hours, but the words written on the page required from him way too much concentration and his migraine got worse after only a couple of pages, so he discarded the item once again. He checked the time one more time.

He had two hours left.

He made an almost-unbearable effort to extract himself from the covers and finally head for the shower, figuring that some warm water would help.

And it did. The shower gave him enough energy to carry his set of pillows and blankets to the sofa instead, moving his mess to the living-room so he could watch some stupid things on the TV.

He spent most of the rest of his time alone watching some old episodes of Columbo, keeping an eye on the time while he waited for you, hoping you wouldn't be delayed by the snow on your way home, his mood darkening some more at the mere thought.

And when you finally walked in your shared home, Ben couldn't refrain a relieved sigh.

He waited for the sound of your keys to drop on the little bowl by the door, for the sound of the shuffling of fabric as you took off your scarf, beanie, gloves and coat, and finally the thud sound of your shoes being kicked off. Finally, the muffled thumping of your footsteps on the wooden floor echoed through the hall, and you appeared by his side, your hair a little wet because of the snow, but you still seemed warm and cosy in your warm jumper.

"How are you feeling, baby?" you asked in a soft voice, tilting your head in wonder, and Ben swore that he had never seen anything cuter in his life.

He let out a groan, pouting dramatically.

"I feel awful," he mumbled, letting out a grumpy growl and holding his cover closer to him.

You sat down by his side on the sofa, and rested the back of your hand against his forehead.

"You still have fever, babe," you told him in the softest voice you could muster, your fingers sliding from his forehead to his hair, soothingly travelling through the dark strands. "Have you taken a shower?"

He nodded, before sneezing very loudly, the noise echoing throughout the room, and letting out a frustrated groan.

"I hate being like this," he pouted.

"I know, love. But you need to rest to get better, that's all we can do. I'm gonna make you some tea with honey, it'll help, okay?"

You were about to get up when he quickly grabbed your wrist, pulling you back to your seat gently. The quick gesture seemed to exhaust him even more, but he didn't mind, for once.

"No, stay. You'll do that later."

"It would be good for you…"

"No, please. Please stay with me. I've waited for you all day. Just… stay."

His eyes were watery because of his cold, and his nose all red, and his cheeks flushed with fever, and he was poutier than ever, buried under three blankets. There was simply no way for you to say no to him.

And it was unsaid, right now, but it wasn't hard to read in his eyes that he meant to add I love you to his plea.

So, you settled properly in the sofa, opening your arms for him to snuggle into your side.

He heaved a sigh, finally relaxing, as he tucked his head in the crook of your neck.

"I hope you don't get sick holding me like that," Ben mumbled into your skin, his voice muffled and barely audible, but you were so used to his voice by now that it wasn't hard for you to decipher what he was whispering.

You smiled a tender smile, that he couldn't see and that you barely noticed yourself as it formed across your lips, but it didn't matter. It wasn't aimed at anyone in particular anyway. It was just how he made you feel all the time.

"Well, if I do catch your cold, you'll have to nurse me back to health too, then," you replied, making him chuckle, his first laughter of the day.

"That's a deal. Besides, I'm gonna be a little selfish here, but I need you too much now to really care if you get sick or not."

It was your time to laugh, and your heart was filled with love as you did so, the bright sound illuminating the whole room.

"Well, you're feeling very bad, so, I won't hold that selfish act against you," you reassured him, and Ben closed his eyes as you started running your fingers in his dishevelled hair again.

"Thanks. Because I really do feel awful."

You hummed, focusing on the TV before you, but only for a moment, as Ben spoke again. He had missed your voice too much during the day, after all. And if having you in his arms was already working wonders on his mood, still, he wanted you all to himself, and you seemed to give way too much interest to the crime show on TV.

"How was your day, baby?" he asked in a hoarse voice, before he would be shaken by a cough.

"It was okay, a bit long," you admitted as Ben settled back into your arms.

"Tell me everything that happened, please?" he asked, looking up at you with puppy eyes, and you could only let out a fond chuckle as you kissed his forehead and proceeded to tell him everything about your day at work.

"Well, Marjorie broke the coffee machine this morning, which was undoubtedly a good odd for the rest of the day!"

You went on for a long time, sometimes slowing down to a stop when Ben's eyes remained closed for a while, and you thought he had fallen asleep, but he kept on asking you to continue then, his eyes still closed, so you did. He did fall asleep though, once you had finished your story and settled back in a comfortable silence with him nestled in your arms. You didn't mind, despite your position growing a little uncomfortable after a while. You watched TV while Ben caught up on some most needed sleep, a soft snore coming out of him once in a while making you smile fondly at him.

Yes, Ben was grumpy when he was sick. But then again, sometimes, he wasn't that grumpy, even if sick, for as long as he had you.

************************************************************

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mythicamagic · 4 years ago

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Unorthodox: a Sesskag oneshot

Summary: Kagome is pleasantly surprised to receive a present from Sesshoumaru for White Day... until she glimpses the contents inside her gift box.

AN: Written for the Sesskag 2021 Big Bang event on tumblr! @chierafied

I was paired with @milomai-art and here’s their lovely artwork: https://milomai-art.tumblr.com/post/648766972634513408/unorthodox-mythicamagic-inuyasha-a-feudal

Rated K+

Words: 3,000

You can read it on Ao3, Dokuga or fanfiction.net.

Unorthodox

Valentine's day had come and gone, with a notable difference this year for Kagome compared with the last lonely three;

Her return to the Sengoku Jidai.

To celebrate reuniting with her beloved friends, she'd gone all out. Everyone received gifts, right down to Myoga and Jaken; no one had been excluded.

For all her efforts, however, she expected nothing in return. Though she'd explained the concept to the Inutachi, Sango and Miroku were much too busy looking after their children to keep track of dates, Shippo was often away at Kitsune school and Inuyasha had been absent as of late. Besides that, since their relationship had ended, the subject of Valentine's had become an awkward one. She'd had to stress the platonic intent behind her gift to him.

Therefore, Kagome had pretty much forgotten all about White Day by the time it rolled around.

Exiting Kaede's hut with a tub of water in her arms, intending to give the old miko's horse a good scrub down, she dug in her heels the second exquisite silks, armour and a fur pelt registered- having blinked into existence before her. Kagome gaped, swaying. Water sloshed, some spilling to their feet.

"Uh hi," looking up at grave, handsome features, she arched a brow. Sesshoumaru stared at her fervently. "Nice to see you, Sesshoumaru," adjusting her grip, Kagome sidestepped him and flashed a warm smile, used to his minimalistic approach to conversation by now. "Do you need something? Inuyasha isn't here. I think he's helping the next village over repair a-"

"I am not here for him."

Kagome noted his succinct tone, sounding more defensive than usual. Setting down the wooden tub carefully, she straightened, tilting her head. "Then what are you here for?"

"White Day."

"White... ah!" Kagome gasped, "that's right! How did you know about that?" she blinked, noticing he looked extra grumpy today. His jaw ticked, golden eyes narrow. Slowly, the miko brightened. "No way. Did you... get me something?" she breathed, strangely touched.

Of all people, Sesshoumaru had remembered? Was she dreaming?

A hand thrust out stiffly towards her, balancing a small box upon his palm.

Accepting it with thanks, heat touched her cheeks. Weird. She really shouldn't be indulging this- or feeling kind of happy. It didn't mean anything to be pleased, right? Was she even allowed to feel warm and fuzzy towards her ex's brother?

Opening the lid, Kagome tried to squash her excitement- peering down. Slowly, she reached in, retrieving a silky soft thing.

It appeared to be made of something long, silver and fine, the material woven into a pretty design. A bracelet of silk, if she could hazard a guess.

"Um, thank you," Kagome raised her gaze. "What's it made of, out of curiosity? It's very soft."

Sesshoumaru appeared pleased, preening a little. "Only the finest material."

"Really?" she stroked it. "I hope you didn't go to any trouble on my account."

He scoffed, midsummer gaze smiling slightly as his tone became haughty and prideful, "it was no trouble to use this one's own hair."

Kagome dropped the bracelet back into the box. "Whut?"

Lithe fingers combed indulgently into his fall of lustrous silver hair, "you need not be alarmed. The strands grew back quickly."

That isn't what's alarming me, Kagome silently screamed. Now that she was paying attention though, the pale bracelet really did resemble the demon lord's long flowing locks.

Her hand recoiled a little from the box. "W-well, um... thank you very much," Kagome said thinly. "It's a very thoughtful gift. Truly."

Sesshoumaru's keen, piercing eyes roved over her strained features, voice deepening. "If you do not wish to accept it-"

"N-no, I do! I'll wear it right now!" Kagome grabbed it madly, fiddling with the thing while repressing a shudder. She tried and failed to secure the clasp, stiffening when large hands closed over her hand.

The demon lord leaned forward- that same hair currently being secured around her wrist falling free from behind a pointed ear. Silver strands draped down like a gossamer curtain, tickling her flushed, sensitive skin.

Sesshoumaru tilted his head up, expression unreadable.

Shifting her wrist, Kagome observed the threads of hair wrapped around it. His bracelet felt odd, the concept totally foreign. However, she could feel how much the gesture meant to him. She didn't fear offending him because of his dark temper- more because she cared about his feelings and wanted to nurture any hint of a bond between them.

"Thank you," Kagome said. "No one else brought me anything today, so I'm...I'm grateful."

Even if it was the weirdest thing she'd ever received. A bracelet made of hair wasn't exactly traditional.

Straightening, Sesshoumaru's lips thinned as his eyes flickered with confusion.

Kagome blinked, wondering what else he'd envisioned her saying.

"Hn," inclining his head regally, he pivoted sharply and began stalking away quickly, giving a swift kill to the conversation.

---

Without a frame of reference for how long he desired her to wear it, Kagome tugged her sleeve down to hide the bracelet from curious eyes during the next few days. She tried to ignore the sensation of hair continually brushing her skin.

"I wonder if it means something important," Kagome examined it while sprawled out upon a grassy hill, taking a break from her miko duties Kaede had started dishing out ever since her return.

Sesshoumaru had seemed extremely serious while giving it to her. Then again, the gift could've meant nothing. Maybe his hair was just THAT valuable in the Daiyoukai's opinion. She snorted, twisting her wrist and watching silver threads catch on sunlight, making it shine white. "His ego is big enough. I'd believe it. Heh, maybe he'd also give me one of his eyelashes, or a fingernail or..."

Why was Sesshoumaru heading towards her?

Sitting up and fussing absentmindedly with her hair- removing a few stray leaves- Kagome felt heat flood her face.

Okay, no- she shook herself, putting a firm lid over the butterflies taking flight in her stomach. Too strange. Enough of that.

The Daiyoukai stopped a few feet away, expression detached. Kagome knew by now to ignore it in favour of looking into his eyes. They were intent and unblinking today, hinting at his seriousness.

"Hi," she said, patting a spot next to her. "It's rare for you to visit the village again during the same week. What's up?"

Sesshoumaru cocked his head to the side at her odd term. Kagome bit her lip, finding it endearing. Her attention strayed, noticing yet another box sitting innocently upon his hand.

She paled. Oh no.

Gracefully sweeping himself down onto one knee- he thrust the new box out towards her, giving Kagome a dizzying sense of Déjà vu.

I was joking about the fingernails. Please be something normal. Please.

Accepting it gingerly, blue eyes flicked up towards him. "White day is over, you know."

"This one is aware."

"So...why the new gift?"

Sesshoumaru pretended to be interested in the gentle bubbling stream not too far away. "Because it pleases me to give it to you."

He was so difficult to figure out. Not wanting to squash his newfound sense of generosity, Kagome carefully removed the lid.

The contents did not look promising.

Trying not to jump to conclusions, she reached in and removed the long necklace. A single solitary tooth hung from the chord.

"Ah," Kagome squinted. "Open your mouth a sec."

Sesshoumaru's lips parted wordlessly, mouth opening wider to reveal a gap where one of his sharp canines used to be.

"This...is yours?" she asked weakly.

Sesshoumaru closed his mouth and nodded primly. "It will serve you well, should you have need of it."

In what way would I ever have need of a tooth? a wrinkle marred her brow as she considered it, coming to a small realisation. "To make a sword from?"

"Hn."

Well, that explained a small piece of the puzzle. In a very 'Sesshoumaru' way- it almost seemed a little sweet, practical even.

However, this did not help assuage her naturally squeamish reaction while looking at the freshly plucked tooth.

"Thanks," she said lamely. "I-I'm sure it'll be very useful if I visit Totosai in the future."

Her answer didn't seem to be what he was looking for. Sesshoumaru's gaze flitted from her to the dangling fang. "Females... prefer jewels, make-up or clothing, I suppose."

Kagome scratched her cheek, "depends on the lady- but you really don't have to worry, Sesshoumaru," laying a hand over pale knuckles resting upon his knee, she gave a squeeze. "I'm touched you're being so thoughtful. There's no need to give me anything else though, I have more than enough."

His nostrils flared, jaw setting stubbornly. He drew himself up to stand, "you are too modest."

Feeling thoroughly discombobulated, Kagome could only watch as he pivoted with all the grace of a dainty dancer, stalking away with billowing sleeves.

---

For two weeks, Sesshoumaru continued visiting the village at random intervals. His flair for turning up at the most unexpected times made it difficult for Kagome to anticipate his visits. Sometimes he'd arrive bright and early, others- nearing nightfall. Occasionally he'd visit Rin, but their interactions seemed distracted. Rin would whisper fiercely to him while gesturing in Kagome's direction, but he'd ultimately leave without speaking a word to the miko.

It was odd, confusing. She'd used to think of Sesshoumaru as a fairly straightforward demon. As of late, he'd been downright unpredictable and... flakey. She kind of missed their previous easy interactions when she'd pick herbs and prattle on while he occasionally offered a word or two. His silence had felt comfortable rather than awkward.

I don't know how to get that back, Kagome thought sadly.

A chilly wind passed by, breeze rushing around her exposed neck. Adjusting her miko garb, she sneezed, shivering a little. Autumn would soon be on its way.

The heat of an intense stare sent a new chill down her spine. Kagome turned, sensing it- only to find Sesshoumaru gazing at her intently.

Was it her imagination, or did he seem absurdly pleased? As though struck by a revelation.

As was typical behaviour for him, the demon lord began walking away without a word.

---

Trudging back from training in the woods, Kagome shouldered her bow while walking around a thick tree- only to quickly stop, almost bumping straight into polished armour.

Sesshoumaru stood before her, holding another box. This time it was larger, more of a rectangular shape.

"M-more?" Kagome squeaked. Her heart thundered. It felt like so long since they'd last spoken.

Sesshoumaru inclined his head gravely, "hn."

Biting her lip and somewhat dreading what cast-off part of him could be inside this time, Kagome grasped the lid and removed it- only to slam it abruptly back down.

"What… what is that?" she asked thinly.

Sesshoumaru's lashes fell shut and slid open in an unruffled blink.

"My fur."

I thought as much.

Kagome removed the lid with trepidation once more, lifting out the lush, soft coat. Even while her hands sank into the cloud-like material, blue eyes remained wide with distress.

Sesshoumaru seemed to guess her line of thinking. "It is discarded fur that I have shed, not cleaved off. Do not worry."

"O-okay," she said thinly. It's still weird though. Too weird. Imagine if I'd made a coat of shed skin.

It was so odd that Kagome felt a line needed to be drawn, placing it back into the box and numbly accepting it from him. "Sesshoumaru… I have to put my foot down now. I appreciate your gifts but I can't accept any more."

He stiffened, the burning embers in his eyes freezing into glassy orbs.

Kagome rushed to explain, "it's very sweet of you, and I appreciate the thought. I'm just not, uh…sure they're suited for a human. Besides, you seem to be worrying about what to get me instead of talking to me. I'd rather we just spoke like old times instead of this awkwardness."

"I see," he said stiffly.

She took a step forward, eyes widening when he took one back and turned. "This one did not intend to give you things deemed inappropriate and unwelcome. Farewell."

"Wait-!"

Too late, Sesshoumaru blurred away from her outstretched hand.

Kagome grit her teeth, sighing and balancing the box on one hand. Damn it.

Slowly, Kagome lowered the box onto a tree stump and gingerly lifted the coat. It felt lush and divine, her hands disappearing within the sheer volume of fur. Sliding her arms into the sleeves and putting it on, Kagome wrapped it around herself, feeling like she were enclosed in a giant fluffy cloud. His static youki brushed her skin intimately, fanning out from the strands.

It was big. It was a little ridiculous. It was wonderful.

Kagome groaned, burying her face in her hands. Sure, the idea of him collecting his shed fur to sew into a coat was strange by human standards, but actually wearing the coat, she now understood his simplistic intent.

He'd just wanted her to be warm.

"You're such a weirdo," she grumbled, blushing and dipping her nose into the fur. It smelled like him; wild forests, with the hint of refined smoke from a pipe.

Maybe she was weird too.

---

He was absent for an entire month.

Sesshoumaru figured it would help ease the sting of rejection. The second he caught Kagome's fragrance, however, it was like an old wound had been ripped open again.

His lips thinned, firmly keeping all emotion locked tight behind a placid mask as he visited Rin.

Chatting with the girl allowed him to soothe his stung ego for a while, distracted by Rin's news about the village and her training. Occasionally she would mention the miko and his chest would tighten again. How pathetic of him.

Once his cup lay empty and Rin mentioned the need to leave in order to assist the older miko, Sesshoumaru took his leave.

Stepping foot outside Kaede's hut, however, he froze.

Kagome stiffened before him, swathed in furs- his furs- he dimly noted.

More than that, lithe fingers curled around the fang resting at her collarbone. The silver bracelet of his hair caught the light before disappearing beneath the length of her sleeve.

Kagome's cheeks heated, and she thrust out a box, letting it rest on her palm.

"I asked around," she muttered. "Inuyasha was clueless, and Shippo kept laughing whenever I tried to ask him what was going on. Luckily Myoga happened to stop by," blue eyes pinned him in place. "You could've told me what all the gifts meant instead of leaving me in the dark."

Sesshoumaru did not accept the box just yet. "I thought my intentions were achingly clear."

Embarrassingly so, for a proud demon.

"Not for humans!" she huffed, lowering her hands a little. "I was confused the whole time! How was I supposed to know that you were giving me a betrothal bracelet, or that the fang was for any half-demon children I might have when they need a sword? I kind of figured out the coat, but I didn't know it represented your intentions to provide for me."

Sesshoumaru stared. Oh. Perhaps he should've listened to Rin about courting the miko after all.

Cheeks scarlet, Kagome sighed, lifting the lid of her box off and removing something from inside.

"May I?"

Sesshoumaru nodded dazedly, golden eyes widening. His entire being thrummed, heart picking up speed.

Shifting closer, Kagome pushed some dark locks behind her ear, the length slightly shorter than usual. Sliding a black bracket around his striped wrist, Kagome swallowed. Her hair had been woven into a band much like his, though nowhere near as intricate.

The demon stared at it, fixated. Baser instincts purred.

Molten gold eyes slowly raised to pin her with a disarmingly reverent look. He spoke no words of poetry, no love or longing, but it was there, he hoped. Abundantly clear. Kagome seemed to recognise it for what it was now.

She smiled a little, hugging her arms and scuffing her foot. "Don't get the wrong idea; I'm not saying I'll jump into marriage with you, but it turns out I'm kind of interested in dating you. Really... interested," Kagome forced out, obviously embarrassed but soldiering on. "If it's okay, we could...do that," she finished lamely.

Sesshoumaru took a step forward, invading her personal space. She blushed exactly the way he'd hoped she would, babbling. "So the uh- think of the bracelet as a dating bracelet! Maybe down the line it could...it could become an engagement thing," she murmured, voice dimming in the wake of his proximity.

"Hn," honeyed eyes smiled, careful claws unfurling to find her chin. "That would be pleasing," he uttered in a faint rumble, tipping his head down. "I accept."

Satisfaction rolled through him fiercely as she tilted her head just so- lips meeting and brushing feather-light against his. Emboldened, Kagome's hands found the collar of his hankimono just as he took her by the waist as though entering a dance, tightening.

Sesshoumaru let his eyes flutter shut, inhaling sharply through his nose. He could smell her so bright and clear—the sweetness of tangerines, faint, exotic soaps—and her mouth so warm. Kagome kissed him, firmer, hand finding his hair- fingers curling. His breath began to roughen the longer their kisses went on. His heart chanted the truth of it all- 'yours.'

If the foolish woman wanted him, he'd already given himself to her. The ticklish brush of her hair claiming his wrist made him smirk against her mouth, glimpsing his own band of white around hers and revelling in a plume of possessive pride.

Perhaps it was unorthodox by her standards, but they were not exactly normal themselves. And so, Sesshoumaru drowned himself in the curious, raw newness of the strange miko, surrendering to all the oddities that would likely follow during their strange courtship.

End

#sesskag #sesshomaru x kagome #sesskag big bang 2021 #inuyasha #sesskag fanfiction

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stopbeingrude · 3 years ago

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Hi guys , how are you doing ? I hope you had at least a decent day. I was really surprised by how many people were interested in my story. (blush) Im so glad As promised, here's chapter 2 ,, I like the rain, it always seemed like the only thing that was like me…" Chapter 2. ,,Thank you for being here" Juvia looked at the object in her hands that she found while packing for their trip to Tempeville. A tiny umbrella , white with smiling suns printed on it .She remembered vividly the exact moment Jerry had handed it to her. - "Here, this is for you, I couldn't bear to hear you whining anymore,"- said the golden-haired man, handing the little girl his gift. -'' I've told you many times, that in time you would be able to control the rain around you. It's normal for water to behave strangely around water mages, and I had a problem with it too….- said Jerry. The man thought for a moment, then added. -..I'm pretty sure I told you how I nearly drowned my ex girlfriend….I told you, right?.. "- little girl nodded-"...Of course I did…haha..If only you could see that bitc...yh...lady's face….Where was I at again?............Oh right!... If only you were just a bit more patient, little froggy.." -"I told you not to call me that, you dummy! "- shouted the seemingly angry Juvia. It was obvious that she wasn't angry, but if those were supposed to be birthday wishes , then that this old slacker could have tried a little harder. -''Oi! Brat....I'm trying my best to wish you a happy birthday and you act like this? -" What kind of birthday wishes are these supposed to be!?- the girl exclaimed. -..Unbelievable! Young people these days are so ungrateful….Ugh .."- he complained, but eventually gave up. -" Heh... Alright….Im sorry... Happy Birthday Juju…- he said with a grin. He couldn't stay angry with his baby for too long. - "...I wish you happiness, health,...I hope you'll grow up to be a decent and intelligent woman ... because remember this..., it's not how you look that counts, it's what's in your head…. - the man poked her forehead lightly, causing the girl to giggle. Despite the tough character of her ..guardian ...? I guess you could call him that… despite his difficult sense of humour and his biting remarks, she knew that she was important to him, just as he was important to her. He just had a strange way of showing affection... Juvia laughed lightly despite a few tears that flowed from her sapphire eyes. It was for moments like this , she's been able to endure the bullying of other children , she knew that every sad experience ended with a visit from Jerry. Every visit ended with one of his strange ideas that always put a smile back on her face, like that one time he took her out for hot dogs at 10pm. Juvia was never able to forget the look on the orphanage ladies' faces when Jerry walked her back at 1 am. Lost in her thoughts, she didn't notice when her fiancé appeared in their bedroom. -" I've never seen this one…"- he pointed at the umbrella- ''.. I'm guessing it's a special one then" -he stated, handing her tea. - "Thank you... "- she took a sip-"...Yes you're right... actually it was a present for my birthday. HE gave it to me…" After packing the last things, they both sat down on the bed. Neither of them was quite sure how to start a conversation. Gray didn't like the strange atmosphere that had prevailed in their apartment since yesterday. But most of all he did not like how distant Juvia seemed to be. That wasn't his Juvia. Devil Slayer rested his head on her shoulder. When Blue-haired woman began to gently stroke his hair, he immediately relaxed . He missed that... After what for him felt like ages , she decided to speak. -"Juvia is sorry that she didn't tell you anything...Juv….. I was just trying to forget about it... it's not like I don't trust you....Please don't be angry…"-she said in an uncertain voice. -"I'm not angry at you….I'm just a little disappointed...I thought you felt comfortable enough with me to tell me everything…"- he admitted. It was silly to admit , but he didn't

like the fact that Juvia wouldn't tell him something. He knew that everyone had the right to have their own secrets, but his desire to find out what was in her head was much stronger. After a while he decided to ask her more - "Is there anything else you haven't told me about yourself?" He needed to know. -" No. Everything else is true…About my childhood, about Phantom Lord...and mostly about my parents..." …………………………. -".........What happened to your parents...?"- he asked quietly. He contemplated for a moment whether he should ask her this question. After all, he didn't know what kind of reaction this would cause.. -" My mother died when I was about 2 years old.... I don't know who my father was... Jerry said he never met him…about my mother.."- Juvia looked as if she was thinking very hard about something, and after a moment she added-"..Jerry once told me that even she couldn't remember who he exactly was….not that she cared about it or about being pregnant …"- said Juvia weirdly. Wait , what? -"..L-let me get this straight…...you're trying to tell me….that she didn't really care that she got pregnant...and that she wasn't even trying to look for your father? ' Wait, what !?' -….ymm... that's....." - the man persistently tried to choose the right words. He did not want to offend his fiancée's mother by any means (If not for her , Juvia wouldn't be there in the first place, so she obviously deserved to be at least respected)....But everything Juvia had mentioned sounded...How to put it?...Concerning? -" It's not normal... I know... you don't have to hold back Darling- she said with a slight smile- "Her name was Eliana and apparently she was always like...that..., she was...well DIFFERENT.."- that's how Jerry would always describe her-"....She didn't really care about anything, she didn't talk too much, she rarely showed any kind of emotion....She was one big secret, even for him. Juvia never fully got it. Why would she be like that with the person she supposedly was…… ..ymm…..Close.?"- he didn't miss the way she said the last word, but he kept quiet about it. After all ,the relationship between two strangers wasn't his business. Gray decided to change the subject a bit. -"You know..., I think it's really great of him to take care of both of you.…"-despite the fact that the night before Gray had felt a lot of anger towards the aforementioned man, right now he was grateful that he had taken both ladies under his care.- "He must have been an amazing person. It really sounds like you are telling me about some hero or saint"- ice mage smiled - "He was "- said blunette with a smile - "I will always be grateful to him...But Saint ? No, no ,no...That's probably too much of an exaggeration." - she added with a giggle. Gray was glad that she was laughing again, he couldn't help but laugh a little too. They are slowly returning to normalcy... - "He was the laziest, most stubborn man you could find on this planet….He was untactful , brutally honest and worst of all, sometimes he could be so awfully mean and grumpy , especially when it was Tuesday...Juvia never got that...why Tuesday?….Dear God , he could be so unbearable...."- Juvia stopped for a moment, then smiled playfully.- "Honestly you two are pretty similar in that case" - "Ekhem....So.. you're suggesting that I'm mean and grumpy ? Oh ..Alright... I'll remember that when you want something from me..."- Gray said, pretending to be offended and trying hard not to smile. Juvia laughed loudly, then wrapped her arms around his neck and placed a sweet kiss on his lips. After Jerry disappeared, she was sure she would never get attached to anyone again. She didn't want to suffer more. But as we all know, life likes to surprise us, and "never" is not eternal. First she met Gajeel , with whom, by some strange coincidence, she found a connection. Funny, considering how different they were. Even then a quiet voice in her head, similar to Jerry's, whispered to her to not get too attached….that it didn't make sense. On that day, for the first time in her

life, she decided to ignore it, and thanks to that, she gained a wonderful friend. The same situation happened again after she met Gray and Fairy tail. The insistent voice kept reminding her of the past. 'Just because you've miraculously found a friend who hasn't left you, doesn't mean that it will happen again...' 'So what if he stopped your rain, one day you'd be able to deal with it by yourself…..Besides, don't you remember what happened the last time you felt something for a guy? It's just stupid, meaningless crush, just get over it....' But as time passed and she became more and more attached to the guild mates, more and more in love with Gray..... The voice in her head gradually faded and after a while the only sound she heard was the laughter of her loved ones. Despite the suffering of the past, Juvia no longer regretted anything. She would go through it even 100 more times, just to be happy with her new family. -"Oi ! - she felt Gray lightly tap her nose- Juvs don't fall asleep, we have a train in about two hours….. Remember? "- he asked amused - "You're right! Juvia's sorry, she got lost in her thoughts…" ****************************************** - "Are you going on a mission ?" asked Mira Jane cheerfully, as the couple informed her of their departure. Gray didn't necessarily want to share with her the reason for their trip. After all, it was a rather sensitive topic. - "Yyyy it's more like..... a..vacation...?...Right Juvia?"- he turned to his fiancée - "Oh!....Yes, yes..."- nodded the woman. The barmaid looked at them with a huge smile. She still couldn't quite believe that these two were finally together.… - "In that case I wish you a wonderful time, lovebirds" - she giggled as she saw them both turning red. - "Ooh vacation? That's awesome, wish you a great time guys." -they heard Lucy's voice behind them. - "They are such a beautiful couple."- added Erza proudly-" I can't believe that our Gray has grown so much..I hope you'll have an amazing vacation." - '"I also wish you an amazing time'' -said Wendy happily. -Ohhh..young love…- sang Happy, flying over their heads. - " And where are you two going anyway?"- asked Natsu curiously while finishing his lunch. - "We decided to visit my hometown,"- said Juvia. Her friends didn't need to know more... - "Oh cool..Where is it?" -continued Natsu. He never really thought much about where his guild-mate came from.. -" I don't think that's your business Flame-brain. Besides you probably wouldn't know where it is anyway." -said Gray, slightly annoyed. He was slowly starting to get on his nerves. Why does Natsu always have to meddle in things that are not his own? - "I asked Juvia ,not you Icy-pants" said Natsu teasingly. Jeez what's wrong with Droopy eyes today , he just asked a simple question. - "Calm down both of you "- said Lucy. She didn't like where this conversation was going. -'' Lucy is right, there is no point in arguing....Natsu if you really want to know, Juvia was born in the town of Tempeville, in the south - said Juvia, trying to calm down quickly. - "Oh, I've never heard of that place," Natsu said, surprised. Looks like there's a lot of towns he didn't know about. - "See, I told you so,"- said Gray. "Now if you'll excuse us, we have a train to catch. So let's get going… - "Hey Lucy, Happy, let's go with them...I'd like to see what that place is like "- said Natsu suddenly, dragging the blonde with him. His girlfriend looked at him in horror. 'Natsu, what are you thinking? Are you trying to ruin their trip?' - "The hell?! "- shouted Gray. And then he thought that everything was going well…'Please no….' - "Natsu, that's their private vacation! "- exclaimed Lucy, knowing very well that they should leave the couple alone- "Besides, they said they have a train coming soon!" -"Then let's go , we have to get ready quickly…...!" "LEAVE US ALONE !!' - desperate Gray shouted as loud as he could, unintentionally focusing the attention of practically the entire guild. They all looked at him, disapproval clearly written on

their faces. - "Gee..Buddy..you don't have to be so rude," - said Max. - "My God… what's with you?- whispered Lisanna - "Exactly Gray, what kind of behavior is that? "- Erza asked in a stern tone- "If you don't want Natsu to come with you, just tell him politely. The Devil Slayer wanted to disappear... It wasn't supposed to be like this. He turned his gaze towards his fiancée, silently asking for any kind of rescue. However, he was met with the same horrified gaze. After a moment, the girl bowed her head slightly and said to the rest of the guild. -"Everyone , please forgive us, especially Gray. I don't know what's going on with him lately...." - ' Huh ?'- Gray must have heard that wrong….There is no way... -"....He's been very tired and stressed lately, probably because of work, that's why we decided to go on vacation…..Juvia didn't know what to do...." said Juvia, brilliantly pretending to be distraught. 'Stop making me out to be some kind of aggressive freak,' Gray shouted in his mind 'Juvia is sorry but this is kinda your fault'- thought blunette , while taking a look at her lover. - "Relax Juvia, you don't have to apologize to us... To be honest Natsu tried to force his way into your trip" - said Lucy, looking at her partner with an annoyance. - Sorry Juvia….-said the pink haired boy meekly-"...but the ice princess can kiss my ass. I won't apologize to him.." -he added quietly. - "It honestly sounds like an excuse to leave you alone so you can shag in peace" -said Cana under her breath. She wanted to add something else but then she felt a murderous gaze of the black-haired man and decided to shut up. -"True!"- added Gajeel, receiving a look full of indignation from his best friend. -"That's so MANLY" - "How could you blame them though….." -laughed Macao. -"GOODBYE !" - shouted Fullbuster blushing furiously ,as he headed straight to the door, dragging his equally embarrassed lover with him. As they walked towards the train station, dragging their suitcases behind them, blunette suddenly asked… - "Did you really do this...to be all alone with me....?" asked Juvia innocently. Oh how she loved teasing him like that... -"JUVIA ?! "- At this point Gray was close to having a heart attack. A very amused girl could not stop laughing for a while , until they got on the train and they sat down in one of the wagons. Their journey has just begun. ****************************************** Very random/ unnecessary bonus . Remember this, Lovelies! Never doodle under the influence of alcohol, you will get wierd ideas lol. ,, Do you see this sh*t Juvia? People are fighting over fictional characters… Humanity really is getting dumber and dumber...."

#gruvia #fanfic #gray x juvia #oc #guild members #attempt at humor #chapter 2 #juvia lockser #gray fullbuster #pro gruvia

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