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raainy-daze · 2 years ago

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Halloween Festivity

halloween special !

rottmnt donnie x gn!reader

summary: as the air grows cooler, you decide it’d be fun to go to a halloween festival with your boyfriend.

word count: 1315

a/n: update on halloween plans! after this, i just have mikey to post for my rise halloween oneshots. i had a few people ask for a second part to the leo oneshot, so if i have time for it, i’ll probably make that. i haven’t decided yet if i’ll do that after the mikey one, or after the 2012 oneshots. i’ve basically given up on getting anything xmen related out for halloween though, so oh well. i will be getting back to requests in november!

disclaimer i have not actually been to a halloween festival, so i just made a bunch of stuff up! happy halloween, people!

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Ah, October, the month of spooks and scares. There’s a chill in the air, and celebrations have begun.

One form of celebration, of course, are festivals. That’s where you were at right now. The sun hadn’t set yet, but you couldn’t imagine it’d be much longer until then. You were dragging one of those kiddie wagons behind you, with no purpose other than carrying two carved pumpkins.

“Careful, careful! There’s a rock there, they’ll fall out!”

“Donnie, both of these pumpkins are roughly 15 pounds. I don’t think running over a pebble is going to damage them.”

Out of everything for Donatello to be paranoid about today, you probably should’ve expected it to be the pumpkins. Well, his pumpkin, at least. He was proud of that thing, and you knew it. You couldn’t blame him, really - his perfectionism really did pay off this time. Only Mikey could rival Donnie’s prized pumpkin, you suspected, but Mikey wasn’t entering into a pumpkin carving competition.

“If we don’t get to the booth in the next five minutes, I’m making you drag it the rest of the way.”

“That won’t be necessary, it should be somewhere around here.” Donnie looked up from his phone, where he had a map pulled up. You could see his eyes dart from one side of the path to another, before adding, “I think.”

You began examining your surroundings in search of the booth yourself, as Donnie mumbled to himself about the map. The sun was at that point where it wasn’t setting yet, but it was just low enough to get in your eyes, enough so that you had to shield them. “Is that it?” You pointed towards the end of the strip, at a booth where several pumpkins similar to your own sat.

“Uhh-“ Donnie once more looked up from his map, squinting against the sun. “Yeah, that would be it.”

“Awesome.” You were happier you could finally drop this wagon than anything else, really. You led the way to the booth, and instantly let go of the wagon’s handle as soon as you were in its vicinity.

“Hello. Would you like a form, or have you registered online?” The lady that greeted you seemed very jaded already. You could certainly imagine why, you could only imagine the kinds of people she’d already had to deal with today.

“Yes, we registered online! (Y/N) (L/N) and Hamato Donatello. His is the one on the left, mine’s on the right. Your right,” you specified.

She ticked off something on her notepad. “Alright, thank you, judging ought to be done in around an hour.” You could’ve sworn she mumbled something under her breath about latecomers, but then you noticed her peering at Donnie. “Is your skin…”

“Green, yes, ha ha! It just looks that way, skin condition, you wouldn’t have heard of it, goodbye!” Donnie grabbed your hand and dragged you away. You called out a thank you as Donnie adjusted his scarf in an attempt of a disguise.

“You do realize that just makes you look ten times more suspicious, right?”

“Psh, she’ll forget in like, an hour.” He waved his hand dismissively. “This is New York City, people have seen weirder things. Especially around Halloween.”

You shrugged. “Fair enough.” You pulled him closer beside you and squeezed his hand.

Now that you’d dropped off the pumpkins, you took your time to actually look around at your surroundings. Of course, there was no shortage of children running around in costumes in search of candy. There was no shortage of candy, either, snickers strewn across the ground, fallen out of kids’ candy bags.

“So, where to now, Donnie?”

“Well, uh, I saw apple bobbing on the way. We could check that out.”

“You actually want to go apple bobbing?”

Donnie laughed. “Oh, absolutely not! I want to watch the suffering of those who make fools out of themselves while apple bobbing.”

Yeah, that sounded about right. “There’s a haunted house around here, right? How does that sound?”

He shrugged. “Well, I have no objections.”

“Haunted house it is then!” Now knowing you destination, you picked up the pace (and may or may not have accidentally dragged Donnie behind you a bit).

The line, luckily, wasn’t very long. For the couple minutes you were waiting, you made bets on how scary it would actually be (and how scared the other would get).

“You’re gonna scream no more than five minutes into this, I’m calling it now.”

“Scoff, as if.”

“I’ll betcha ten bucks.”

“Ten bucks that you’re going to be giving to me.”

“Yeah, sure, hun,” you said as you crossed the entrance into the attraction. You were immediately met with darkness - well, not total darkness, but very dim light.

As you made your way through the haunted house, actors would jump out at you, and you’d be surprised by some gruesome decoration or another. You stuck close to Donnie’s side the whole time, and couldn’t help noticing how stiff he got at every jumpscare. Of course, you did too, but whether you were scared or not wasn’t riding on ten bucks.

A couple rooms in, you were absolutely delighted to hear some form of a yell escape Donnie as he walked into a fake spider web. “Well, well, well, hope you’ve got some cash on you.” Even as you helped him out of the awfully realistic spider web, you teased him.

“This was a mistake!”

“Aw, I thought you liked being around me.” You gave him a mock pout, only to be met with the side eye.

By the time you were back outside, the air was rapidly growing cooler as the sun lowered in the sky. You were beginning to regret not bringing a scarf, but oh well. Too late to change the past.

“Pay up.”

“Right now?” Donnie raised an eyebrow at you.

“We had a deal.”

“Is food a worthy compromise?”

“Food will suffice.”

Even though his scarf was wrapped closely around him as an attempt at a disguise, the smile that graced his face didn’t escape you. Even if he didn’t show emotion that often, you knew he was enjoying himself. You sincerely hoped that was thanks to you more so than whatever junk food you were about to share.

•°. *࿐

As it turned out, that junk food in question was a bag of cotton candy and some popcorn, of which your portion did equal about ten dollars.

You were back at the pumpkin booth, judging having been complete. Donnie, the overachiever that he is, earned a blue ribbon, to absolutely no one’s surprise. You hadn’t done too badly yourself, but you just knew he wouldn’t shut up until sometime around Christmas.

“So, Mister Hamato, how are we feeling?”

“Like the greatest person in this room, that’s how!”

“There is no room. We’re outside,” you pointed out.

“That is besides the point.” As he celebrated his victory, you reached over for another handful of popcorn.

“Also, that lady is definitely still weirded out by your ‘skin condition’.” You nodded your head towards the woman from earlier, who was not-so-inconspicuously squinting at the pair of you.

“We’ll never see her again anyways.” Donnie shrugged. “Oh, Mikey’s gonna be jealous!”

You looked up at the sky, which was steadily getting darker. “We should probably get going soon.”

“Ah, yes, I suppose so. The day may end, but my victory shall be remembered forever. The ribbon’s pretty permanent too.”

“So the pumpkin’s your day's highlight? Really?”

“My dear (y/n), you’ve met me, haven’t you? Of course it is.” He paused. “But, of course, spending time with my significant other wasn’t all that bad either.” You giggled as he pressed a kiss to your cheek.

“Come on, let’s go. It’s getting cold.”

“Bring a scarf next time.”

“Sometimes, I really can’t tell if you're being genuine or making fun of me.”

“I know.”

#tmnt x reader #rottmnt x reader #reader insert #gender neutral reader #gn!reader #donnie x reader #tmnt donnie x reader #rottmnt donnie x reader

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badalivie · 3 years ago

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when you faint on stage

warnings: mentions of unhealthy diets… that’s should be it i think??

Mark

He knew something was up when he called you backstage. You were pale, and you had lost weight, but you smiled at him like you always did so he thought it was all in his head. It felt as if his whole world stopped when he saw you hit the ground.

He sat in his seat, frozen and wide-eyed as your members started fanning you and calling for staff. As soon as the lights went off he ran backstage to your waiting room. Seeing you sprawled on the couch with an oxygen mask being held to your face and multiple staff putting ice around you broke his heart. He waited until there were less people in the room before sitting on the floor by your side, holding your hand with no plan of letting go. He watched you sleep, regretting letting you go on that diet and stay up late when he was around. He felt like he was at fault.

When you blinked your eyes open after about 15 minutes he jumped. “hey, baby, baby, i’m right here” He brushed the hair out of your face and gazed into your eyes.

“What happened..?”

“you passed out, baby.” He kissed your cheek, holding the side of your head so gently, caressing your cheek with his thumb. “I knew you shouldn't have gone on that diet. I shouldn't have let you-”

“Mark don’t do that”

“do what, love?”

“blame yourself” You brought your hand up to cup his cheek, and you watched as he melted into your touch, closing his eyes.

“I was so scared you were hurt.” He grabbed your hand and placed gentle kisses on your palm. “I’ll take better care of you, I promise”. He wouldn't leave you out of his sight for the rest of the month, making sure you ate 3 meals a day and slept 7 hours and a half a minimum before you had a schedule. He could have been mildly irritating with his reminders, but you loved that he worried this much about you.

Renjun!

The earlier events of tonight were a blur, but he still found himself scolding staff and your manager for your mistreatment. “What could you have possibly been doing to let y/n lie on the ground for almost a minute huh? What was more important that her passed out on the stage? If anything happened to her would you have taken responsibility?! and you! How could you overwork her and make her diet like that?! Are you insane? did you not think of her health at all?! How do you expect her to to keep up with your schedule while having only eaten a DAMN PEACH!” They all kept their heads low, feeling as if they were being scolded by their boss.

“junnie stop yelling please…” your tired voice called out for him, immediately making all his rage disappear into thin air.

“are you okay?” He rushed to your side, putting his hand on your head.

“I’m okay, injunnie. relax.”

“How can I relax when-“

“Shhhh, baby. Quiet” Usually he would put up a fight, but seeing how weak you were today, he silently backed down.

“I was scared you were hurt…” he confessed, voice gentle and worried.

“I’m sure you were… Come here” You opened your arms to him, and he immediately wrapped his arms around your waist, holding you close like he’d never see you again. “I’m sorry for scaring you” you kissed his cheek over and over again, wrapping your arms around his neck.

“don’t scare me like that again okay?” His hands roamed your back, pulling you closer to his body. “take care of yourself….”

“I will baby…” Renjun pulled away and cupped your cheeks, checking if you had a fever or anything. “I heard you yelling at my manager~” You suddenly remembered, unable to keep a smile from creeping on your face.

“He deserved it. You need a new one.”

“Oh yeah? Are you the CEO now?”

“Yeah. SM is being relabeled to Renjun Entertainment.”

You giggled, lightly hitting his chest. Your laugh was music to his ears, making him look at you like you gave him the sun. He probably would keep an eye on you in the upcoming weeks. Messaging you and setting reminders to eat and scolding you when you ate too little. He’d definitely put food on your plate until he was satisfied.

jeno!

Jeno looked away for one second to hear what Jaemin said when he heard a thud echo through the speakers. When he turned to find you on the ground, unresponsive, he jumped out of his seat. Even with his members shouting at him, he pushed through the crowd and jumped on the stage, pulling your body into his arms. The staff tried to touch you but he swatted their hands away, carrying you himself.

He didn’t trust anyone with you at the moment. He himself had to make sure you were okay, he had to see it with his own eyes. He felt like he couldn’t breathe when they finally got you away from him and put an oxygen mask on you. He stood in the corner of the room, quietly observing with the look of a kicked puppy.

When most of the staff left he walked to your side, gently intertwining his fingers with yours. “wake up princess…. I’m here now…” He just stared at you with sad eyes until he felt you tighten your hold on his fingers. “Y/n? Are you awake?”

“mhm” you slurred, feeling woozy. Jeno immediately pulled you into a tight bear hug, almost crushing you. “easy, big boy. you’re going to crush me” you pat his arm, making him lighten up on you.

“I said you didn't need to diet. You didn't listen to me and look where it got you...”

“I know baby, I’m sorry”

Jeno pulled away for a few minutes to grab some food and a cup of water, placing it on the table in front of you. “Jen, baby, I don’t feel like eating right now...” He furiously shook his head.

“I only want what I think is best for you, so open up” He picked up some fruits with a fork and held them up to your mouth, making an ‘a’ gesture with his mouth. The begging gaze he was giving you made you cave, letting him spoon feed you like a baby. He would probably treat you like that for the upcoming weeks. Looking at you as a child unable to do anything by themselves. And oh he would definitely pamper, and shower you with so much love and affection.

haechan!

“ah you're so pale! don’t be a wimp i’m sure you’‘l do great out there.” Haechan joked with you, rubbing your back. Nct Dream was set to perform right after you so he’d spent the entire backstage subtly hyping you up through his teasing. he frowned when you didn't reply to him, just staring blankly at the stage. “yah. are you okay?”

“huh? yeah, baby. I’m fine” You brushed it off, not feeling like talking. Haechan then strangled you in a hug, forcing kisses onto your cheek.

“you’re a bit grouchy today huh” He sighed at your lack of reaction, obviously joking, but it still made you frown a bit.

He watched with pride as you walked onto stage with your group, thinking of how beautiful you were.You pushed through the performance even if you felt dizzy and weak. As you were walking back you saw Haechan clapping his hands together and smiling at you with so much love and adoration you felt your heart flutter. You don’t know if that was a good thing though, because soon after that, everything went black.

You fell to the ground the moment you arrived backstage and Haechan felt his soul leave his body. He immediately pushed through the people surrounding you and picked you up into his arms. “get out of the way now! stop crowding!” He ran to your break room and set you down on the couch, letting the staff takeover. He didn’t care about preparing for his stage anymore, he needed you to be okay.

Still, he was called back to stage to perform and he reluctantly left your side. It took 2 managers and Mark to get him to leave you for 1 performance. He was gone for 5 minutes. 5 minutes and he was running back to your room, hoping to find you awake already, but that wasn't the case. “hey, doll, wake up for me will ya? hm? please? I’m sorry for being mean...” He sat next to you on the couch, brushing and fiddling with your hair.

He held his head down, looking at his feet, holding his head in his hands, internally yelling at himself for not seeing the signs. “hyuckie...” You whispered his name, touching his back to grab his attention.

“hey babydoll. how are you feeling? do you want water?”

“no, i’m okay...”

Haechan sighed, lightly kissing your cheek and extending his hand to brush your forehead, but he retracted his hand as soon as he reached it out. “I’m sorry. I didn't mean the things I said earlier... I didn't know you weren't feeling well...”

“I know, hyuckie. Don’t worry about it...” It saddened you, really. He was a very touchy person, that’s how he showed his affection. Seeing how guilty he was of his actions to barely even get himself to hold you broke your heart. You sat up, looking at him “come here. give me a hug.” He bit his lip, diving into your embrace, his hands roaming your back and pulling you closer like you’d dissapear.

“I love you. You know that right?” he murmured into your neck.

“I know... I love you too, my sunshine”

He’d probably be softer with you for a while, less of the harsh teasing with more gentle reassurances here and there. He’d also pay more attention to you and take more care of you. When you wouldn't eat enough because you're scared of gaining weight he’d say “you didn't eat a lot baby, you just ate more than usual”.

jaemin!

“baby don’t go. I’ll talk to your manager so you can-”

“nana, no.” You cupped his cheek, making him look at you with worried eyes. “I don’t want to disappoint the fans” His worry only grew when you tried to smiled at him weakly.

“your health comes first y/n!”

“I’ll be fine, baby.” You kissed his cheek in an attempt to reassure him before walking onto stage with your group. He watched you struggle through your performance with his bottom lip caught between his teeth. The camera panned to you for the ending fairy, and he fidgeted with his hands when he noticed you having a hard time breathing even if you made cute poses towards the audience.

“you did it baby. now please come to me” he called for you as you while you walked backstage. You chuckled silently, walking towards Jaemin, feeling like your head was spinning. “come here baby” He whispered right before your felt your legs go weak and your vision black out. “y/n! hey. baby, baby stay with me here.” was the last thing you heard before you lost consciousness.

Jaemin never left your side while you were unconscious. He didn't let go of your hand for even a second. “Why didn't you listen to me... look at you now...” frowning, he stroked your head, concern filling his chest. He knew you were overworked, he knew you were dieting when you didn't need to. He would never be able to express how much pain he felt watching you eat only an apple in a whole day. “You can be so stubborn. You know that?”

“are you seriously nagging me right now, nana?” you groaned, blinking awake

“y/n! how are you feeling? here, drink some water” He practically forced you to drink that whole cup of water, staring you down until you emptied it. “please don’t do that again, love..” He sighed, leaning to rest his head on your shoulder “I hate seeing you hurt.” Jaemin wrapped his arms around your back, holding you so gently and so carefully as if you were glass that could shatter at any moment.

“I’m sorry, nana” You rested your head against his and stroked his back. He loved you so much, and you knew that. You felt apologetic for making him worry so much.

“I love you more than myself, y/n. I don’t know what I would do if i lost you, so please, please let me take care of you if you wont do it yourself.” He sighed while stroking the back of your head, never wanting to see you like this again. Watching you pass out into his arms had his heart running laps and his head swirling, he knew he wouldn't be able to take it if it happened again.

He’d pamper you for a month or two, refusing to leave your side and leaving practice early to head to your apartment. He’d leave calls or texts to make sure you’d eaten when he was away. He’d pack you lunches when he could and have food delivered when he couldn't. He’d nurse you back to health with love and patience, like a child who was incapable of doing anything themself.

chenle!

Chenle would stare at the stage wide-eyed and frozen. He’d politely excuse himself and walk backstage, but once he was away from the camera’s he’d start sprinting to your waiting room.

By the time you woke up you were in a hospital suite with your boyfriend sleeping with his arms crossed on the couch in front of you. You couldn't help but feel endeared by the boy, still in his costume and his head drooping down every few seconds. “lele...” you called, watching as his head snapped up towards you and he was by your side in a flash.

“hey baby” He stroked your forehead over and over again and kissed your cheeks. “How are you feeling?”

“better....” You sighed, kissing his palm. Chenle sat on the side of your bed and gently scolded you on being too harsh with yourself, but not enough to stress you out.

“If you’re going to pull late nights for practice you should at least eat proper meals hm? Don’t skip meals, don’t stay up too late, and most importantly, don’t get hurt. Okay, dear?” You nodded your head slowly, taking notice of his tired eyes.

“Shouldn't you get back to your performance or something? you’re still in costume...”

He chuckled, lowering his head “that was last night, baby”

“LAST NIGHT? I’VE BEEN HERE FOR A WHOLE DAY?!” You sat straight up

“woah, woah. settle down.” Chenle gently pushed your shoulders and made you lie down again. You felt bad, making him sleep on a couch the whole night-- your precious boy. He was about to stand up to grab a nurse or something when you grabbed his wrist, biting your lip.

“Stay here, lele... please?”

The boy smiled and kissed your cheek “Of course I will.” You lifted the blanket and shifted to the farther side of the hospital bed, making way for Chenle. The boy wrapped his arm around your waist and cuddled you to sleep. “I’ll take care of you. I promise” He whispered, kissing the top of your head before drifting asleep himself.

jisung!

Jisung felt helpless as he heard the loud thud of your body crashing onto the stage. His surroundings blurred as he watched you getting carried away. The gasps, whispers, and the faint voices of his members comforting him could barely be heard as he froze in his seat. “Jisung ah” Mark shook his shoulder, finally grabbing his attention “Go.”

“but hyung what about the event-”

Mark shook his head “Go, Jisung. She needs you, and I don’t think you can sit through another 2 hours of this event anyway”. Jisung nodded and hurriedly ran over to your waiting room. He couldn't stay still while you laid unconscious. He felt like time was passing indefinitely slower when he was just sitting there and watching you so he grabbed bottles of water and food from vending machines and gathered them all up in the coffee table for when you woke up. The boy even reached the cafeteria and a nearby convenience store. The sound of rustling plastic woke you up from your deep sleep. “Jisungie..?” You weakly called.

Jisung almost dropped the energy drinks he was holding when he heard your voice. “noona?” He paused, slowly lowering the bottles he was holding. “noona!” Jisung kept his hand on your back as you struggled to sit up

“Baby whats all the noise-” You literally buffered when you saw the coffee table in front of you looking like a mini buffet table of sorts. “what’s with all the food..?”

“When you passed out I-I just couldn't do nothing so I got you this! here-” He grabbed a bottle of water and twisted the cap open “I didn't know what you would need so I kind of just got you everything... I also got you juice, chocolate and some of your favourite snacks! A-Also I uh... got you an ice pack too if you’re feeling hot, and some band aids for your knees and-”

You almost zoned out as Jisung rambled on and on about the things he got you, the worry evident in his slightly shaky voice. “Jisungie.” You interrupted, breaking him out of his cycle. He immediately shut his mouth and turned his head to you with wide eyes. If the boy had ears and a tail you would have seen them perk up at the call of his name. “Come closer please. He hesitantly shifted closer, hovering his arms around your waist, afraid to hurt you.

“y/n noona-” He choked when you engulfed him in probably the tightest hug he’s ever had.

“my sweet, sweet boy. You really did all this for me?” Jisung’s cheeks flushed a deep shade of red at your cooing. He let out broken, shy chuckles as you rubbed the back of his head. Jisung slowly melted into your touch after a minute of you just patting and rubbing his head. Then he wrapped his arms around your waist and dug his nose into your neck, pressing small kisses onto your shoulder while inhaling your vanilla scent.

“please don’t scare me like that... please.” he practically whimpered into your neck, clutching his hands onto your back.

“This is the last time this happens. I promise, my sweet boy.” You kissed his ear and rubbed the other side of his head with your other hand.

he’d definitely watch out for you for the next few weeks. If you wouldn't eat he’d force feed you like a child and whine and pout if you didn't listen. He’d also gain the courage to go against you and scold you if he saw you overworking instead of just sighing in defeat like most of the time. Now that he saw the effects of what could happen if he doesn't step in when you disregard your health, he would never leave you alone again.

im sorry jisung pup boy agenda is always on my mind asfghdjgkh

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soft-boi-eli · 3 years ago

Note

Hello Hello!

I just wanted to say I love your fics!

ALSO!

Could I request a CC!SBI X Gn! Insomniac Reader! Where the reader is an insomniac (Obviously-) but is somehow a pro at MC!

Like they are basically god at the game! They also REALLY enjoy horror games! They don’t get scared easily and LOVE horror movies! They basically love anything horror/creepy-

ANYWAYS!!

The reader lives off of ramen and Monster energy drinks (For fun-)! They have a Twitch (Which has about 18 mil followers and 14 mil subs!) and a YouTube channel (Which has 20 mil followers!)

They mainly play horror games (Obviously-) and MC!

You can do headcanons or scenarios/images with the SBI! Maybe like playing a horror game together or MC? OR! Maybe some things they do together? Or when they meet up? Or-to many ideas Nightmare-

ANYWAYS!

I don’t really care! And don’t worry about taking too long on it!

ALSO!

Maybe we could be friends? Only if you want too!

Remember to eat, drink, and get enough sleep!

Yes. I lovesthese ideas and I'm gonna choose headcannons due to they are a bit easierfor me to write.

And yes I'm perfectly fine with being your friend! I'm actually happy to make friends on this app so yeah!

Pronouns:nonbinary

Tw: cussing. Insomia, mentions of horror movies. Mention of horror games. Fluff.

SBI with a horror streamer friend head cannons.

*Ahem* tommy wanted to paly a game with you so you choose a game that didn't look like horror until the middle. He screamed at the jump scare and it made both of your chats so happy.

When phil decides to play with you there is literally a silence after a jump scare. Everyone thought he had a heart attack and honestly so did you until he spoke up about accidently hitting his mute button when he jumped.

Wilbur. He's a bit better then tommy but more scared then phil would be. Any little noise won't get him but when it starts to get noticeable the noiseless to him. The jump scare, he'd fall out of his seat and stay on the ground for a bit. You ask if he's good and he literally doesn't answer. He's dead. You killed him. Congrats.

Techno. He'd handle them a bit better then everyone else. Not as good as you but heisnt very paranoid. He literally runs at the noises trying to get jumpscared. While you run after him telling him to stop because if he doesn't then you'd lose and die. And technoblade never dies.

If you all play together both tommy and wilbur pussy out. Techno last the longest and phil the second longest. While you remain the ruler of horror games.

Now how you all met was dream invited you to the dream smp to add to the chaos. Needless to say it got extremely chaotic due to you being on almost 24 hours. You first ran into techno. He seemed confused and skeptical.

You both found eachothers love for potatoes. You set up camp quote close to techno but not too close.

Phil popped in when he needed something for a build and noticed a new name. Talked to you in chat and asked to join your VC. You both found each other talking for a bit.

Wilbur was next. Wilbur got curious over the new person and just hoppedinto the same VC as you techno and phil. He was quick to realize that you were a famous youtuber. Mainly for your horror videos and your extreme Parkcore skills.

In minecraft that is.

Tommy noticing that all of you were in the same VC joined in with shouting. He was low key jealous that everyone was obsessed with you. Then he saw why.

You literally cracked jokes at his shouting.

"Is that an angry pomeranian? Nah nah. It's an angry child. Even better an angry blonde!" - you.

He was shocked and immediately started joking and laughing with you. He wasn't fully angry for long.

Now about your diet. When they heard that you had only eaten ramen and drank angry drinks they were concerned. You lived quite close to techno so when you guys met up he was shocked that you looked as healthy as you did.

He hated the fact that you literally didn't eat anything else.

You told him occasionally you have something other then ramen but you were just too lazy to really cook anything and that you didn't feel like burning the house down.

One month phil, tommy, wilbur, and techno decided to organize a month long sleep over so that they could celebrate your birthday. Phil being quote the father figure cooked different, but easy dinners every night just so you didn't eat only ramen that day.

When they actually arrived though you got a text from Phil asking about your address in your dms. Not think much of it you just sent him your location.

You were going to take a small nap. Just to bost your energy before you went and streamed later that night.

As you were sleeping there was a car heading to your house.

Phil, wilbur, tommy, and techno were all just existing in the car. And when they arrived to your house they didn't expect to actually see a clean house.

You woke to a loud knock.

When you opened the door in your half dazed state you expected a package. But to see four people standing on your porch.

You nearly jumped out of your skin.

You were stuck there blinking at them.

Finally snapping out of it you let them in. Confused on why in the ever loving fuck they were here.

Phil explained they were here to celebrate your 21st birthday and they were here for a month.

You stared at them for a while. Confused on what to do since you haven't had people over in almost 2 years.

But you got use to it.

So when you got done streaming and smelled something other then ramen you were thrown off guard. Like what was that. I haven't smelled that in years.

But after the second day you got use to it too.

For your birthday phil literally made a feast.

Like he found your favorite food other then ramen and cooked it. With that he prepared everything you could dream of.

Your sleeping habits. Let's dig into those.

I'm in no place to talk as right now it's 3:05 in the morning. And here I am.

But when they are over they don't let you stay up till no 3-4 in the morning. They all know the importance of sleep.

But there are those nights where no once can sleep and it results in a late night stream. And streaming for hours none the less.

The amount of accidental all nighters everyone has pulled was immense. But that's what happens with jet lag, adhd, and insomnia.

Literally you get tired randomly. Sleep for only 3 hours. Wake up. Drink coffee, energy drinks, highly caffeinated tea. And don't sleep till late at night.

Pillow forts.

It's a must and it happens. Horror movies, pillow forts, and snacks. Like you all are in this massive fort, watching horror movies, one by one you all are falling asleep. You and techno were the last up due to technos active mind and your body not letting you sleep.

You two literally just vide there, changing the movies from horror to some silly animated movies, like how to train your dragon, frozen, Luca, and many others.

You two pull an all nighter and it's actually a bet to see how long anyone else takes to notice.

You bet an hour. Techno says all day.

You won. Philza notices the worse eye bags under both you and technos eyes and immediately starts scolding.

He is papa bird and he won't let anyone of his children neglect their needs.

"Did you even drink water at all? You guys should of been sleeping not binge watching horror movies all night!" -philza

You could only offer a smirk, along with a laugh.

"I think we did I just can't fully remember. Also we were watching animated films. Not horror. Surprised you didn't wake up to let it go." - you.

You turn to techno.

"You owe me 15 bucks pig boy!"-you again.

Handing you the money he rolls his eyes. "Yeha yeah. Rub it in." -techno.

Ah yeah they found a horror game that you were scared of surprisingly. It was actually surprisingly you hadn't played it yet.

Outlast.

You had been holding off that game until you finished your other one but here you were. Bored out of your mind.

So you decided fuck it.

That game teriffed the shit out of you. It was so good though.

When you screamed they all came rushing up due to the fact that you never scream.

They say you out of your chair, on the floor, blinking. They thought you were hurt.

But you sat up and looked at your computer.

"Damn. That was actually really good." When you looked behind you and found the boys all staring you smiled and waved.

"You need something?"-you

"You screamed. We heard a thud. We thought you fuckin died!" -tommy.

"No I'm alive. My soul almost divorced my body but it's still quite here."-you

That day made highlights.

The popular y/n actually got jump scared. The one person who never screamed at horror games screamed.

When they left you were sad yes but they were still your best friends. Ready to talk when ever you want.

Sometimes I think that you guys talk all through out the night. Them forgetting that you were actually in a different time zone.

Sometimes they pop into your streams, be it MC, horror, you just talking to your fans, or even the once in the blue moon, cheerful games.

They just pop in and start talking to you. And you talk back like they were there since the beginning.

Phil is now one of your moderators too. Along with tommy, wilbur, and techno. When they pop in they make sure no one picks on you.

And since you are now close to the SBI. You are now part of it.

You didn't choose the fans did. But they are your new family. No matter what.

Even if they disagree with your eating habit.

Or energy drink addiction.

Or insomnia.

Or you mainly playing horror games.

Or you basically living in your streaming room.

Or even the nearly 24 hour streams.

I could go on but I'm not gonna.

I'm tired. But I can sleep. 2 days and I get to have a tour of my new school.

And it took so long to finally get into it.

We have been going through a huge hassle even before school started to get me enrolled.

And then we had to get me into this program.

But now on Monday I get to go in. Get a tour. Then start either Tuesday or Wednesday.

Anyway hope you liked. It's now 3:50 and it's no proof read I'm sorry

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johnnysnostril · 3 years ago

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makeup sex with nct 127 | part three [18+]

doyoung, jaehyun & jungwoo

“leave me alone.” i mumbled as i tossed my phone on the passenger seat of my car. i watched as the screen shut off completely before looking out towards the windshield.

this was my happy place.

the ocean.

i loved it here- i alway came here to think and just relax.

as i got out the car, i wrapped myself in my cardigan- feeling the cold breeze against my skin. i took my time walking out to the sand, taking off my sandals as the concrete ended.

i tip-toed to the shore and sat close enough to the water, just to get my feet wet.

as the thought of doyoung with another woman ran through my head, i tucked my knees into my chest and hugged myself.

being insecure was going to be the death of me. he knew i had trust issues, but he promised to help me work through this.

they just looked like they knew each other too well.

i didn’t even notice that an hour went by, until the sun started setting.

“mm, i should probably head back..” i said to myself.

“you’re a terrible hider.” i heard doyoung’s voice say. i could tell he was smiling.

“who said i was hiding?” i said keeping my eyes on the water.

he was silent for a moment.

as he sat down next to me, he stretched his legs out and sighed.

“how’d you even find me?” i finally said.

doyoung chuckled.

“you always come here, babe.”

i rolled my eyes at how well he knew me.

moving in front of me, he positioned himself so i was sitting in between his legs.

“baby, i’m sorry.” he began. “i was stupid to think that the performance wouldn’t trigger you. i didn’t think at all, actually. i’m sorry.” he voiced in a low tone.

i kept my eyes down.

“i had to see things from your prospective and now i understand- i would be upset too if i was in your shoes.”

“i’m not just being dramatic, you know?” i replied. “i can’t help it sometimes- i just don’t wanna see you with someone else..” i whispered. “and i understand. i wouldn’t wanna see you with anyone but me.” doyoung took my hands and laced our fingers.

“i’m new at this boyfriend stuff-“ he smiled. “i promise, i’ll get it right one of these days. be patient with me, please.” he pleaded. “look at me-“

our eyes met and he smiled.

“i love you. i’m not going anywhere, okay? you got me. i promise you’re the only one i want.”

i fell to pieces on the inside.

suddenly, i found myself climbing into his lap- resting my cheek on his shoulder. doyoung wrapped his arms around me and squeezed tightly. “do you forgive me?” he whispered. i nodded and gently kissed his neck. “i just miss you all the time, you know?” i whined. “i know baby. and i miss you too. let me make it up to you.” he said rubbing my back. i pulled away, looking right at him. “how are you going to do that?” i asked.

he softly smirked, pushing me on my back to lay in the sand. doyoung hovered over me and pressed his lips against mine. i smiled against his lips and wrapped my arms around his neck.

this felt like heaven.

immediately, i felt him getting excited. chuckling, i bit his bottom lip.

“i’m sorry- i can’t help it. i really missed you.” he groaned as i released his lip. “show me how much, baby.” i said unbuckling his belt. without hesitation, he slipped his hand under my dress and ripped off my thong. i squealed and watched as he took over the removal of his belt and pants.

sex on the beach.

lining himself up, he slid right in and my breathing hitched. to keep me from moaning too loud, he reconnected our lips- slipping his tongue in my mouth as he began to pump slowly.

giving jae the middle finger from across the room, i slipped my phone in my back pocket and folded my arms across my chest. he furrowed his brows and smiled a bit. i guess he really didn’t think i was being serious, but i was.

the dance teacher thanked everyone for coming after his little speech. everyone clapped and thanked him for his work.

as i collected my things, i made my way out the door in a quick manner.

“hey! wait-“ i heard jaehyun’s voice call out.

i kept going.

“babe!” he laughed as he caught up with me.

he back hugged me and kissed my shoulder. “get away from me!” i said pushing him off. “woah, why are you so angry?” jae moved in front of me as i approached the door. “you’re such a jerk- move.” i said slapping his chest.

walking out to his car, i waited by the passenger side door, for him to unlock the vehicle.

“babe.” he groaned as he spun me around by my waist to face him. “what did i do?” jae tried to lean down and kiss me but i pushed his face away. “you were flirting with those girls- i watched you for 15 fucking minutes.” placing his hands over his chest, he shook his head. “i was not flirting with anyone. that, i can promise you.” he said with a serious face.

i rolled my eyes and turned to face the car, yanking on the door handle. “just take me home.” i demanded. “wait- stop it.” he said grabbing my hand, making me face him once again. “i really wasn’t flirting with anyone-“ he repeated. “then what were you doing jaehyun? are you telling me that i’m just imagining you flirt with other females?” i shouted. he smiled, his dimples making their appearance. “you’re so sexy when you’re mad.”

“fuck you.” i said yanking on the door again.

jaehyun swiftly grabbed my waist, unlocking the car and tossing me in the backseat. he climbed in behind me, closing and locking the door.

pushing me back against the seats, he smashed his lips into mine. i pushed him back and he chuckled. “you can’t just kiss me and expect everything to be okay.” i said frustrated.

jaehyun was silent for a moment before parting his lips.

“you don’t get it-“ he started. “it’s always going to be you, babe.” he gently pressed his lips into my forehead. “i swear to god that you are the only person i wanna be with. i see myself spending the rest of my life with you. why would i do anything to fuck up the best thing thats ever happened to me?” he continued. “baby, i love you. and i mean that.”

he was actually being serious now.

his eyes searched for mine as i looked off to the side. jae kissed my lips and smiled. “it’s so cute when you get jealous. i love it.” he admitted.

“i wasn’t jealous.” i lied. “yes, you were. but that’s okay-“ he mumbled, kissing down my neck. he knew that was my sweet spot.

i instantly wrapped my arms around his neck and slightly smiled. “you’re still in trouble.” i whispered. “i like being in trouble.” he growled.

slipping his hand into my shorts, he made his way past my underwear and pressed his fingertips into my clit.

i packed up my belongings and wiped away the tear that fell from my eye.

throwing everything in the trunk, i slammed it down and leaned against my car.

i loved jungwoo so much but sometimes his timing was so bad. i knew what i got myself into when we first started dating- but he promised he would try and spend as much time with me as possible.

he had two rest days before going back on tour and he promised to spend those two days with me. although it wasn’t his fault that they had a last minute recording session, i did expect him to at least have lunch with me.

climbing into the drivers seat, i sat in the parking lot for a few minutes- which turned into an hour and a half. i just sat there. staring out the window.

was this really what i wanted?

making my way home, i pushed myself through the front door and furrowed my brows.

something was off.

i took off my shoes before stepped onto the carpet and made my way to my bedroom.

“surprise!” jungwoo yelled as i pushed open my door.

i jumped and screamed, closing my eyes.

he laughed and clapped his hands before coming over to hug me. “i’m sorry babe, i just couldn’t resist.” jungwoo chuckled. i playfully slapped his chest and giggled a little. “you’re such a jerk! why would you do that?” i looked up at him as he towered over me. his soft hands cupped my cheeks and he planted soft kisses on my lips, smiling. “it was a surprise.” he mumbled.

i huffed and pushed him back a little, taking my place on my bed and laying down. he immediately joined me, cuddling up next to me and nuzzling into my neck. “i’m actually really mad at you.” i said. jungwoo looked up from his little spoon position, giving me puppy dog eyes. “whyy?” he whined. “because, you promised to have lunch with me. i know sometimes you get busy and can’t do things- but, you-“ jungwoo interrupted me with a kiss and i whined.

he wiggled his way up, pulling me into his chest and wrapped his leg around mine. “i don’t wanna fight, baby. i know i’m an idiot. i need to find a way to spend more time with you.” he groaned.

i was silent.

“what about going on tour with me?” he said excitedly. looking up at him, i furrowed my brows. “and how would my bills get paid?”

jungwoo paused for a moment.

“you know you could stay with me in the dorm, right?” he admitted. i immediately shook my head. “i don’t wanna live with all boys.”

climbing on top of me, jungwoo hovered over my body. “we can make it work, baby. i just think that’s the only way that we can spend more time together.” he mumbled as he pecked my face multiple times. i wrapped my arms around him and sighed. “let’s just talk about this later, please.” i whispered, kissing his ear. “i just want you-“

jungwoo pulled back a little and smiled. “if you want me to blow your back out, just say that.” he gently sank his teeth into my bottom lip and pulled. i moaned softly and blushed.

“that’s exactly what i want-“ reaching down a little, i slipped my hand into his pants and ran my fingertips across his length.

#nct scenarios #nct fanfic #nct imagines #kpop fanfic #nct 127 #nct doyoung #nct jaehyun #nct jungwoo #nct 127 smut scenarios #nct 127 smut #nct 127 fan stories #nct 127 stories #johnnysnostril #nct doyoung smut #nct jaehyun smut #nct jungwoo smut

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weasleylangs · 4 years ago

Text

swipe right / f.w

Summary: Finding your best friend and your biggest crush on Tinder is always awkward. Pairing: Muggle!Fred Weasley x Muggle!Fem!Reader Warnings: Discussions of sex, language, alcohol, food/drink mention. Word Count: 6.9k (this is the longest thing i’ve ever written)

AUTHORS NOTE / hiiiii... this is my first fic in SO long but thank you for waiting for me!!! a huge thank you to my lovely rosie @spacexcowgirl for inspiring this fic and also listening to me ramble on about it for hours on end as i was writing it and for also beta reading it guys this fic rly wouldnt exist if it wasnt for rose so.........

/ also, george’s girlfriend in the fic is named ‘em’ and she has no physical description besides also using she/her pronouns. i’m trying this out so even people who aren’t (primarily) fred simps can self insert in this fic!!!

taglist / @amourtentiaa @weelittleweasley @lumos-barnes @lumosandnoxwriting @loveboyhalo @harrysweasleys @freds-slut @rcwenaclaw @barneswidow @fandomhideout

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

Y/N stared at her screen, the Tinder profile of Fred Weasley staring right back at her, teasing her ominously. She eventually decides to lock her phone to avoid the familiar and unwelcomed feelings rising in her throat. The last thing she ever expected to see during her mindless swiping at 1am was her best friend’s Tinder profile.

She knows it’s hypocritical to feel this way but she’s also not stupid. She and Fred both have had their fair share of dates and hookups thanks to dating apps- they’re in the twenties and single after all. But she can’t shake how weird she feels finding Fred. Like she’s stumbled across something private.

Y/N unlocks her phone again, curiosity eventually making her cave after staring at her ceiling blankly for way too long.

‘Pros: I’m an Aries (I’ve been told that's a good thing). Cons: I’m an Aries (I’ve been told that’s a bad thing).’

It’s a short and simple bio, much like her own but she has to stifle a choked laugh. She and George’s girlfriend have said these to both the twins and she feels a sense of accomplishment that she can’t explain. Almost like Fred thinking of her while he sets up his dating profile means something.

She hesitates a moment, debating between swiping left and never thinking about Fred and dating profiles ever again and swiping right just to see what happens. Y/N’s definitely making it a bigger issue than it has to be, which is why she doesn’t realise when George’s girlfriend and her roommate suddenly appears in her doorway holding chocolate.

“Em, it’s 1am and you have work tomorrow?” She questions and the girl in the doorway shrugs, making her way into the room and sitting down without an invitation.

“I can vaguely hear you monologuing next door,” she laughs as she breaks a line of chocolate off the bar and hands it to Y/N. She groans, in her moment of panic she completely forgot about the fact it’s late and their bedroom walls are paper-thin. “All I heard was something about Fred and the word fuck. I hope I’m not interrupting anything…” she winks and Y/N cringes, Em’s usual 15-year-old boy humour shining through as she pops the piece of chocolate in her mouth.

“You’re hilarious,” Y/N says rolling her eyes but she can’t deny the fondness that’s there for her best friend. “No, you’re not interrupting anything, rather the opposite actually, look.” She passes her unlocked phone to Em and Y/N wishes she could have captured the shocked look on Em's face.

“Fred has a fucking active Tinder?” She’s quickly swiping through his profile and she hates to admit he has good pictures, but when she gets to his bio she snorts and rolls her eyes. “That’s something you say, Y/N.”

Y/N feels her face go red at Em’s comment. She’s acknowledged this already but when someone else says it she feels like she isn’t being as far fetched as she’s convinced herself. While she outright refuses to acknowledge her feelings for Fred to anyone who isn’t herself, she knows Em knows without having to tell her. Call it best friend instinct, ‘dating-his-twin-brother’ instinct, whatever she pleases, which is why when there’s a mischievous glint in Em’s eyes, Y/N immediately is reaching for her phone. “No.”

Em whines, rolling onto her back. “Why not, you’re so boring!”

“I am not swiping right on Frederick fucking Weasley.” She feels her face becoming warmer as she says it. Em gives her a look as if to say ‘I believe you’ with a glint in her eye that makes Y/N know she doesn’t. “I’m just never going to open the app again!”

Em rolls her eyes but the fond smile on her face is unmistakable. “And do what, love?”

Y/N falters for a second before shrugging. “Not perceive his profile. It’ll be gone into the abyss of people who live in London and I’ll never think about it again.” She’s smiling, thinking she’s concocted the most perfect plan.

-----

It wasn’t the most perfect plan, for when Y/N is hanging out with Fred two days later she’s faced yet again with the ‘Tinder Predicament’ as dubbed by Em. Fred and Y/N are sitting in their favourite park, the new spring weather of London on their skin as they soak up the friendly sun rays after a harsh winter. Y/N is laying on her stomach, the book open but she’s barely reading as she pretends to listen to Fred ramble on about only God knows what.

It’s 11am, not too early for the park to be empty but busy enough that other people are turning up, mostly couples. Y/N tunes Fred out, quickly getting lost in her own thoughts. Do other people think we’re a couple? she thinks to herself. She knows if Em could read her mind she’d say yes and Y/N is quick to push the thought out of her mind.

Everything is interrupted when her phone lights up with a ‘You’ve got a new match!’ notification and before she can hide it from prying eyes, Fred’s wolf-whistling.

“You’ve got dating apps, do ya, Y/L/N?” he teases and Y/N wants the Earth to swallow her up, she can’t think of a worse situation to be in.

“Yeah, don’t you?” The second the words leave her mouth she regrets them. Fred’s smirking at her, a signature smirk of his he only does when she knows he’s up to something. Unfortunately for her, she is on the receiving end of that something.

“Something along the lines of ‘looking for a golden retriever boy?’. Ring any bells, darling?” Y/N feels her blood drain from her body and Fred releases a laugh that can only be described as a full-body chortle. “You know I have one, darling. Besides, you popped up last night. I already knew.”

Y/N groans. This shouldn’t be as embarrassing as it feels but it’s Fred and knowing Fred has seen her dating profile was low on her wishes for this week, or for her entire life for that matter.

“Did you at least swipe right on me?”

It’s said with a teasing manner, falling right out of Y/N’s mouth before she can stop it. Her curiosity always gets the best of her and she wants to kick herself for it. But she doesn’t even notice Fred’s slight falter, the red tint kissing his cheeks and emphasising the freckles across his face at the comment. “You’ll have to swipe right on me to find out.”

She can’t tell if he’s joking. But Fred is always joking. So she laughs and pushes him slightly, “If I come across your Tinder profile, I’m reporting it.”

“It would be a blessing from the universe for you to come across my dating profile. I’m sure you’d appreciate my bio.”

“Let me guess. ‘6’3 if it matters’?” Fred scowls looking down at her and she knows she looks way too proud for that comment but she doesn’t care and after a few seconds, Fred doesn’t care either. He starts to feel a small shred of jealousy from knowing Y/N has a Tinder profile, but he swallows it, tabling it for later when he isn’t with her.

“Why do you have the app?” He blurts out, annoyed at himself for letting it slip out. “Just… Curious, y’know?” He adds on when he notices Y/N looking up at him with an eyebrow raised. He doesn’t really want to know, but the words are out there and the cute scrunch of Y/N’s nose as she thinks of an answer almost makes it worth it.

“Male validation, mostly,” she laughs awkwardly, rubbing the back of her neck when she hears Fred laugh along with her. “I don’t know, Freddie.” She says, exasperatedly. “I barely use it. What about you?”

“Sex, if I’m honest.” Now it’s his turn to awkwardly laugh because he knows he answered that way too quickly and a little too honest for his own comfort. Y/N’s been his best friend for years, probably knows him best besides George but she didn’t really need to know he uses his Tinder profile to hook up with people.

When Y/N doesn’t respond immediately, Fred takes it badly. He knows she would never judge him, not about anything and especially not this, but his thoughts get the best of him and sometimes he can’t help it. He has no idea Y/N is in her own head, jealous other girls get to hold Fred at a distance closer than she ever will.

He clears his throat and checks his phone to see no notifications besides a direct message from Lee Jordan. He knows George isn’t expecting him home- cursing his brother when he remembers George demanded the flat to himself (and in turn, also Em) today for a few hours. “Hey, uh. I’ve gotta go. Emergency with George apparently.”

He knows he shouldn’t have lied, it’s not even a good lie but it was the first thing he thought of. He notices Y/N’s eyebrows furrow before she shrugs, nodding before closing her book. “That’s okay, I was getting tired anyway. I might pop back to my flat for a nap.”

“I’ll see you later, yeah?” Fred asks and his chest feels warm when Y/N meets his face with a smile.

“Of course, Freddie.”

She watches Fred leave, her thoughts getting the best of her. She knows for a fact there is no ‘George emergency’- she knows George is with Em probably being sick and in love and she’s sure Fred knows this too. The realisation Fred made an excuse to not spend time with her hits her like a truck, her mind frantically searching for what she could’ve possibly done to upset her best friend.

“Fuck,” she whispers to herself, the second she realises.

-----

To: Em > if you come home tonight dont mind me being drunk x

Y/N sends the text as she stands in the kitchen, pouring herself her second glass of wine before it has even hit 6pm. On her way home, she stopped by the liquor store, picked up her favourite wine and decided to drink away the anxieties of upsetting Fred.

From: Em > ill be home. ill pick up chinese on the way. save me some wine!!! x

She smiles down at her phone, knowing Em would always be there without even realising it. She sits down on their couch and turns on the television- old reruns of early 2000s sitcoms playing on almost every channel.

It’s 20 minutes late when Em turns up. She’s nursing the Chinese food as if it’s a child as she tries to unlock the front door without dropping the food or her bottle of wine. She smiles proudly at Y/N the second she gets in, putting the food on the table before she grabs her own wine glass.

“What happened today?”

Y/N is caught off guard but she shouldn’t be shocked. She doesn’t usually drink and when she does, it’s very rarely without Em. “Nothing’s wrong!” she says, skulling the rest of her wine when Em gives her a knowing look.

“You were with Fred today and now you’re sad drinking. What happened?” Usually, she loves when Em is her all-knowing best friend, but right now she wishes she’d shut up.

“Nothing happened!” She’s adamant to not say too much. She knows it’s probably all in her head, that she and Fred will be fine in a few days but when Em gives her one more knowing look, she breaks. “Okay, fine. I think I upset him today.”

Em’s confused, to say the least. Fred, for as long as she has known him, has never been upset with Y/N- even on accident. She has the tall redhead wrapped around her finger. “How?” she questions, because she truly can’t think of a single thing that Y/N could do to hurt him.

Em places Y/N’s food in front of her when she starts speaking. “We were talking about Tinder- don’t give me that look he saw a notification and it came up and he asked why I had it. I said I don’t know and when I asked him, he said he uses it for sex,” Y/N says softly, pouring herself another glass of wine before continuing. “I didn’t say anything when he said that, because… Well… You know why.”

Em does know. She knew the second she became Y/N’s roommate their first year of University that she had feelings for Fred and she knew immediately Fred liked her too but Y/N’s never believed her. “You think he got upset you didn’t say anything about sex?”

“I think he thinks I was being judgemental.” Em sighs at Y/N’s response. She loves both her best friends- they’re her favourite people besides George but she knows they can be idiots. They sit in silence for a few minutes, the only sound being the forks against their Chinese containers before Em grab’s Y/N’s phone, unlocking it.

“Well if Fred’s using Tinder for sex, so should you!” she says matter-of-factly and when Y/N groans from the kitchen sink, Em speaks again. “It’s true! He likes you but won’t tell you, you like him but won’t tell anyone! Who’s a good meaningless shag going to hurt?”

That’s how they end up in Em’s bed, cuddling under the duvet with ice cream and Y/N’s Tinder profile open on her phone. “You��re so fucking picky, holy shit,” Em says when Y/N scrunches her nose up at the sixth consecutive guy. “It’s a shag, not a hand in marriage, love.”

“They don’t do it for me!” Y/N is avoiding the elephant in the room- that she’s comparing every guy that pops up to Fred. “I have to be attracted to them for this meaningless shag you’re preaching about… See, he’s cute!” His name’s Cormac, he’s 21 so only a few years younger than Y/N and he’s not bad looking.

“He looks like a douchebag!” Em exclaims and Y/N groans.

“You told me to stop being picky!”

“Stop being picky doesn’t mean saying yes to the first conventionally attractive guy we see!” Em exclaims as she swipes left on poor Cormac. Y/N gets up to pour herself and Em one more glass of wine each and she hears Em starting giggling to herself when the new profile shows up, hiding the phone from Y/N’s eyes when she walks over. Without even questioning Y/N, Em swipes right and immediately she starts howling laughing.

‘New Match!’ the screen reads and Y/N feels her breath hitch when snatches the phone from Em’s hands and she sees who she matched with.

Fred, 24. 2km away.

“I remembered after dinner, you said he told you to swipe right to see what he did,” Em says proudly, and Y/N regrets even mentioning it to Em offhandedly. Y/N’s eyes are transfixed on the tiny screen. There’s no way he seriously swiped right, she’s sure it’s only a joke- people jokingly match with their friends all the time. “So here you go, Freddie swiped right on my lil Y/N/N.”

Y/N shakes her head at this. “I’m sure he only did it as a joke. People do that when they find their friends on Tinder all the time!” she says, sitting back down on the bed and cuddling up next to Em. “You were telling me to swipe right on him last night, after all.”

Em looks at Y/N and sighs, clearly sensing how uncomfortable Y/N is feeling right now from the confrontation of her feelings for Fred. “I was telling you to swipe right because I know you’re in love with him,” she says softly, not missing the way Y/N’s eyes soften at the mention of her feelings for Fred. “I’m sorry if I’d known-”

“Don’t apologise! I’m just going to ignore the fact we matched,” she says softly, unlocking her phone and immediately exiting from Fred’s profile. The tension from a few moments ago quickly dissipates as Y/N receives another match, this time from a boy named Neville who Y/N knows is friends with Fred’s little brother.

“When did you swipe on Nev?” Em asks and Y/N shrugs. She knows she probably did it to be funny, like what she thinks Fred’s done to her, but the more she thinks about it, Neville isn’t a bad match. He’s nice, friendly and now he’s in his twenties, he isn’t bad looking either.

“Nev’s sweet. If he asked me out I’d say yes.” She says. She isn’t lying- there’s been times she’s considered going on dates to avoid her feelings for Fred, to get over him once and for all but whenever it gets to that point, she chickens out. “I know you want a meaningless shag, but I think maybe a date would be a good idea. You know?”

Em nods, pulling Y/N closer to cuddle her and suddenly feeling bad about preaching for meaningless sex. “Maybe you’re more of a date before shagging kind of girl, and that’s okay.”

“Yeah, maybe.”

-----

Em’s fast asleep and Y/N’s overthinking next to her when she gets a message from a match. Y/N rolls her eyes when she sees the time reads 2am; knowing whoever's messaging at this time is just looking for a booty call but she opens the notification nonetheless.

From: Fred > i can be a golden retriever boy :)

She smiles at the message, Fred’s presence always does that to her. She never expected him to message her on tinder considering she’s convinced it was just a joke swipe right, but this is probably just a joking message too. She checks his bio is still the same Aries joke before quickly replying.

To: Fred > good thing im a big aries fan then ;) > how tall are you though? im sure youre well aware it matters

She hopes Fred laughs at her messages because making Fred laugh is her favourite pastime. The three dots signalling Fred’s typing pops up and her heart starts to race.

From: Fred

> im 7’5 if its that important :/

She giggles and when doesn’t know how to reply after that, she exits out of their messages, but it’s not like she has to keep a conversation with Fred going. She’s trying to think of a funny message to send Fred when she gets another message; this time from Neville.

From: Neville > hi Y/N! i hope this isnt a weird time to message you, i just finished grading some work. i was wondering if you’d like to get dinner sometime this week? we were kind of friends at school, after all, and it’ll be nice to catch up :)

The message from Neville is sweet, and she almost feels guilty reading it. Attached is his number and everything and Y/N feels her throat closing up. She would feel terrible going on a date with Neville despite what she claimed earlier, knowing her heart currently belongs to Fred.

But Fred’s lack of interest in her is eating at her as much as her own feelings for him do, and she knows she deserves better than to sit around and wait for him any longer. If Em was awake the date would already be confirmed, she knows that much so she decides to say yes to Neville, to at least put herself out there. She can imagine the little Devil version of Em dancing on her shoulder as she begins to type out a reply to Neville.

She doesn’t even think to look at who it’s being sent to before clicking send. But by then it’s too late- she doesn’t even know how she ended up back in Fred’s messages but now she wants to roll up into a ball and die.

To: Fred > hi neville! id love to grab dinner one day, here’s my number and we can organise it tomorrow because im going to bed now! x

She’s staring at the message for so long she doesn’t even notice the ‘???’ she gets back from Fred. She quickly copies and pastes the message to the right recipient this time before plugging in her phone and rolling over to sleep.

Em’s slight snoring lulls her to sleep, thoughts of Fred filling her mind before she passes out for the night. What she doesn’t know is that while she falls asleep, Fred lays awake, staring at his ceiling. Contemplating the knowledge he has knowing Y/N’s potentially organising a date with one of his little brother’s best friends.

-----

Fred hates this feeling; this feeling of jealousy in his stomach that’s threatening to spill out of his throat. He hasn't been able to stop thinking about Y/N accidentally messaging him about a date with another person all morning and he knows George is getting annoyed with him.

“Why are you being such a prat this morning?” George had asked when Fred scowled at his brother for simply standing in the kitchen. Fred had huffed as a reply, grabbing the milk for his tea before sitting down at their table to munch on his toast.

“Not being a prat,” he says, words muffled by the food in his mouth and George gives him a disgusted look before taking a bite of his own toast. “Do you remember Neville Longbottom?”

George nods, of course, he knows Neville. “Ron’s friend? Super nice bloke. Think him and Hannah Abbott just broke up, why?”

Fred shrugs, he’s almost positive it’s the same Neville now. “Think Y/N’s going on a date with him, that’s all.” When George raises his eyebrows, Fred speaks again, “Just wanted to make sure she wasn’t going on a date with a prat.”

“Wanted to know who she is going on a date with in general, more like it,” George mutters under his breath. He knows Fred better than he knows anybody, better than he knows his girlfriend and almost better than he knows himself. “You sure you’re not jealous?”

Fred squints at George. “Why would I be jealous?” Fred stands and makes his way to the kitchen to wash up his dishes and he almost drops them in the sink when George speaks again.

“Because you’re in love with Y/N?” He says it so casually Fred almost chokes on air. He’s never thought about himself and Y/N in that way. Sure they like to cuddle when they’re drunk and they spend every waking moment together but he’s not in love with Y/N.

Is he?

“What makes you say that?” Fred asks quietly, hoping to hide the red blush forming on his cheeks. George might be his best friend and twin brother but he knows he would never live it down admitting he has feelings for Y/N.

“You two are worse than Em and I, and we’re actually dating,” George speaks as if it’s the most obvious thing in the world. “When Em first met Y/N, she asked how long you and she had been together for, mate.”

“That doesn’t mean anything,” Fred says a little too quickly.

“I’m sure it doesn’t, Freddie,” George smirks as he speaks, getting up to wash his dishes now. Fred stands in the kitchen, nursing his cup of tea as he contemplates George’s words. Sure, he always knew he had some kind of feelings for his best friend, but being in love was another whole ordeal. It means wanting long term commitment, probably a house together, maybe marriage, perhaps kids if Y/N wanted them and the longer Fred sits with these in his mind, he quickly realises he does want all that and even more with Y/N. He’s probably wanted it with her for a while and he just hasn’t ever realised.

“Fuck,” he mumbles, low enough for George not to hear but when Fred doesn’t have a rebuttal to George’s words he knows he’s accidentally sent Fred into an existential crisis.

“Look, Fred. If Y/N going on a date bothers you, you need to tell her.” George knows he’s about to cross some lines that he promised himself he would never cross but it’s getting dire in his eyes. “Y/N likes you and deep down you know you like her too, even if you’re oblivious. She deserves to know and if you’re too much of a chicken to admit it to her, then you don’t get to be bothered about her going on a date with Neville Longbottom.”

Fred huffs. He knows George is right, but he can’t help but feel like he truly noticed too late. He swiped right on her on Tinder hoping she would swipe right back and they could go from there. But he knows Y/N only swiped right to see if he had done it first, that she only swiped right out of curiosity and right now, Fred is cursing the app under his breath.

“Well, fine, yes I like Y/N, but I can’t just stop her from going on a date. That’s controlling and mean.” Fred states and George just sighs. “I’ll talk to her after her date, if it’s meant to be, it’ll be.”

George stares at him. “Since when are you mister Que sera, sera, Freddie?” Fred shrugs, not understanding the reference George made. “Since when are you just letting it happen?” George translates when he notices the blank stare on Fred’s face.

“Since right now. I don’t want to come off controlling to Y/N.” Fred says. In actuality, even though he knows George would never lie to him, he’s scared. Y/N is his best friend and the last thing he ever wants to do is ruin his closest friendship all because of some jealousy.

“Okay fine, but if she gets a boyfriend, I’m sorry mate,” George says and he knows putting the threat of losing Y/N romantically on the line is harsh, but it’s what he has to do. He’s watched the pair pine for each other for years and he’s sure this is the last straw.

“We’re going out with the lads in a few days, by the way! Maybe you can stop moping enough for a shag!” George calls out and Fred flips him the finger as he walks off to his bedroom.

-----

Y/N and Neville decide on getting dinner together three days later. It’s a Friday so neither of them has to worry about work or coursework the next day, which is perfect. Neville tells Y/N about his favourite Italian restaurant right near Old Street subway station in Shoreditch, so that’s where the pair decide to meet.

It’s rather busy when Y/N gets to the station. Neville has apologised profusely for still being fifteen minutes away but she reassures him it’s fine and that she’ll meet him outside the station so they can walk to the restaurant together.

Y/N’s on her phone, texting Em and telling her she’s safe when she feels a presence next to her. She tenses up quickly but she soon relaxes when she looks at the person next to her and realises it’s Fred.

“Hi,” she says, smiling. She hasn’t seen him since the day in the park, but they’ve texted and called so she’s sure everything is fine. “What are you doing all the way on this side of London?”

Fred smiles and shoves his hands in his jeans pocket before replying, “Grabbing a drink with the lads tonight, love. What about you?” His tone is casual and Y/N has to stop herself from checking him out. He’s dressed in a nice dress shirt, it’s orange and on anyone else, it would clash with his hair but Fred somehow manages to pull it off. He’s got a black jacket over the top of his shirt, alongside black jeans that show off his long and muscular legs on and his outfit is paired off with a pair of boots on his feet.

He’s not making it easy to get over him, that’s for sure.

“I’ve got a date,” she’s shy when she says it, looking away from Fred and then back down at her phone. The time reads 6:47pm and Neville’s train will be getting in any second now. She’s trying to get over Fred and the last thing she needs is Fred lingering when said date turns up.

“Ah yes, with Neville, if I remember correctly,” Fred’s teasing and Y/N has to force a laugh out. She blocked out the fact she’d accidentally messaged him instead of Neville and was hoping he would forget as well. But this is Fred she was talking about, and Fred never lets up a chance to tease Y/N for something.

“Yeah, Neville Longbottom,” she says and she catches the look of recognition that flashes across Fred’s face. “He was friends with your brother in school.”

Fred nods in acknowledgement while he can’t decide whether or not he’s happy with the confirmation that he was right. He’s sad and jealous, that much is obvious, but he’s a little happy. Happy that even though Y/N is going on a date with someone who isn’t himself, it’s someone he knows would treat her like she deserves.

“Neville’s a good guy, I’m happy for you,” he forces out and Y/N smiles up at Fred and he wants to sink into the Earth. The smile on her face is one he wants to be the cause for forever. “I should get going, tell Nev hello for me!”

He pulls Y/N into a quick hug, presses a quick kiss absentmindedly on the top of her head before letting her go and crossing the street and making his way to the bar he’s meeting Lee, George, Harry and Ron at.

Y/N watches him leave, dumbfounded. The kiss on the top of her head is nothing less than usual; Fred’s always been touchy with her but now it feels weird. All she wants is to call out to Fred and demand the redhead take her on a date instead.

But before Y/N can do anything drastic, she hears Neville call out her name and she turns around quickly. He’s just as sweet and cute as she remembers and even if she wishes Fred was the boy she was on a date with, Neville is someone she would be friends with above anything.

“I hope you weren’t waiting too long!” He says when he reaches her, kissing her cheek as Y/N pulls him into a hug. His presence is comforting and he smells like cinnamon and Y/N feels herself instantly relax.

“Not too long!” She replies as she begins walking towards the restaurant with Neville. During Spring, the cold weather still returns at night so their hands are shoved inside their jacket pockets to keep warm but they’re walking closely together. “I ran into Fred just before, so he kept me company.”

“Good, I’m glad,” Neville says as he grabs the door to the restaurant, “can’t have a pretty girl waiting outside a subway station alone.” Y/N feels her cheeks heat up at his comment.

They’re quickly seated and wine is ordered. They’ve been placed in a booth right near the window, where they’re able to watch the City of London go by. “How’s teaching going?” Y/N asks when she remembers Neville recently graduated and got an immediate job offer at the Agriculture department at a college in Surrey.

“It’s going well! I specifically teach the floriculture courses so I love it, of course,” Neville’s smile couldn’t get any wider. Y/N specifically remembers his constant fascination with plants and flowers in school and she couldn’t be happier for him to be doing what he so clearly loves, “What about you?”

“Being hammered by my postgrad coursework,” she says, laughing and taking a sip of her wine. “My job at the bookstore near my flat doesn’t suck but I definitely don’t work as much as I used to, unfortunately.” Neville raises his glass, almost to say I’ll drink to that when the waiter comes over to take their order.

Dinner goes quickly, conversation flows easily between the two and soon enough the bill arrives and Neville grabs the cheque before Y/N can even say anything. “You can grab it next time.”

Y/N falters at this. She knows she should say something to Neville; that this has been nice but there won’t be a second date. She’s too caught up in her panic and she’s beginning to curse Fred Weasley under her breath when Neville gently places his hand on the small of her back to lead her out of the restaurant.

“Are you okay?” Neville asks when they get outside. He noticed the tensed look on Y/N’s face the second they got outside and when she nods and sighs he takes it as a sign to stop walking.

“This has been nice, Nev,” she starts and she feels terrible even though she knows it’s better, to be honest. “But I don’t think I’m-”

“Ready for a relationship?” Neville finishes for her, and he’s not condescending when he says it. He could tell even before dinner was finished that she probably felt that way and he doesn’t mind. “I don’t think I am either. But this was fun, was it not?”

Y/N nods, smiling as the anxieties of hurting Neville wash away. “It was fun!” she says, “I hope we can do it again. Even as friends?”

He nods back, a warm smile gracing his cheeks. “Of course.”

They walk back to the station together, promises of seeing each other again soon leaves their mouths as they walk to their respective platforms.

From: Neville > thanks for tonight. i forgot to mention, please tell me when you’re home safe!

She smiles down at the text, shooting Neville a reply of reassurance that she will before opening her messages with Em to let her know she’s on her way home. She’s jumping through her apps, Snapchat that she only uses for filters, Facebook she only uses to check the ‘Dogspotting’ group until she lands on Instagram.

She sees a story from George and when she opens it, she immediately regrets it. It’s their friendship group, that much she expected but she sees a girl sitting next to Fred nursing what looks like a Gin and Tonic and Y/N feels sick.

She immediately closes the app, pretending she didn’t see it. She has no right to be upset over this but it plagues her thoughts for the entire subway trip home.

That’s when she decides she’s going to demand answers from Fred. She doesn’t know how, or when or if she’ll even do it without Em forcing her to, but she knows she deserves better. That she doesn’t deserve to hang on the end of every touch, every word of Fred’s in hopes he’ll hold her closer than arm's length while she desperately wants more.

-----

The next night, Fred’s laying on his couch in an uncomfortable position searching Netflix at 10pm when he hears a knock at the front door. He knows it isn’t George, or any member of his family for that matter and any normal person would ring before coming over this late at night. So when Fred gets up and looks through his peephole to ensure he’s not about to be murdered, he’s shocked to see an angry-looking Y/N.

He opens the door and she’s immediately inside, pushing past Fred’s body and when she turns around, she has the most determined look on her face he’s ever seen.

“I’m annoyed at you.” Fred’s taken aback, he tries to think back at their interaction the evening before, trying to piece together anything that would annoy Y/N but he’s coming up blank.

“What did I do?” He wearily asks and when Y/N purses her lips together and looks like she’s about to cry Fred has to resist the urge to apologise without knowing what he needs to apologise for.

“I’m annoyed at you because,” she pauses and takes a shaky breath, “I’m annoyed because I went on a date last night. I went on a date with the loveliest man I’ve ever met. And I spent the whole fucking time wishing I was on a date with you. And I’ve spent all of today debating coming over here and telling you that so I drank half of Em’s bottle of wine for some liquid courage and here I fucking am!”

That’s the last thing Fred was expecting to come out of Y/N’s mouth. “Well, that’s not-”

“I’m not finished.” She stares at Fred and he immediately shuts up.

“I’ve been in love with you for years and it’s not fair on me anymore, Freddie.” Her voice is shaking like she needs to get everything out as soon as possible. “I need to know if you feel anything for me, even in the slightest, because if I need to move on, I’m begging you to be honest with me.”

Fred feels his heartbreak at how sweet, how broken, how defeated Y/N looked standing in front of him right now. He can see the need for an honest answer swimming in Y/N’s eyes and he’s never felt braver to admit his feelings than he does right now.

“I’m an idiot,” Y/N scoffs but lets him continue, “because I didn’t realise how fucking in love with you I am until I almost lost you. I thought…” he pauses, looking for the right words and when his eyes meet Y/N’s, there’s a softness there that wasn’t there previously. “I thought what we had was normal; the cuddling, the constant need to be with each other, the constant subtle touches. But George knocked some sense into me.” Y/N lets out a breath as she laughs, of course, it was George’s doing.

“I’m in love with you, and I think I have been since we were 17. So I’m so fucking sorry, for ever letting you think you meant any less to me, my love.”

Y/N’s eyes are overflowing with tears at his words and Fred panics for a second before he sees the biggest and most loving smile overtake Y/N’s face. “Fucking hell, you big dummy.”

She crosses the room, quicker than she’s ever moved before and pulls Fred’s 6’3 frame into her arms. She feels Fred pull her away, only slightly, so he can look down into her eyes and cup her cheek with his hand. His thumb is providing comfort as it strokes across her cheek and wiping away any stray tears.

She cups the outside of his hand with her own and brings her face to the side to kiss his palm. This is the closest the two have ever been and both their hearts feel like they could beat out of their chests at any moment. It’s the adrenaline from this moment that causes Fred to blurt out his next question, without any hesitation.

“Can I please kiss you before I die?”

Y/N laughs as she looks up at Fred. She doesn’t even give him an answer, she just pulls the tall boy down before locking their lips together. They’ve both kissed plenty of people, had many first kisses whether it be with first dates or partners but they can both agree this is the best kiss either of them has ever experienced.

Y/N is pouring everything she can into the kiss, knowing she will never get tired of the taste of caramel that she will forever associate with kissing the love of her life. She presses her lips harder against his, her tongue running along Fred’s chapped lips asking for more before he opens his mouth to massage his tongue with hers.

Fred decides to be a tease, pulling back slightly before capturing her lips again and biting her bottom lip slightly. This action pulls a moan from Y/N’s throat, soft enough that Fred almost misses it but he can’t help but smirk into the kiss. He wants nothing more than to kiss Y/N for the rest of his life, but eventually, he has to pull away to catch his breath and the whine that leaves Y/N’s mouth might be the cutest sound he’s ever heard in his life.

“I hope to God you know I’m never letting you kiss anyone else ever again, holy shit,” she says, cheeks flushed red and when she looks at Fred she thinks she’s fallen even further in love with him. His hair’s messy, thanks to her running her hands through it and his lips are slightly swollen. She thinks this might be the most beautiful she’s ever seen Fred in her life and if this is how gorgeous he looks after a few minutes of kissing, she’s secretly anticipating how gorgeous he’s going to look laying in her bed, naked.

Fred smiles dopily down at her, “Don’t worry darling, I never want to be with someone who isn’t you ever again.”

#fred weasley x reader #fred weasley fanfiction #fred weasley one shot #fred weasley fluff #fred weasley imagine #fred weasley #fae writes

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high-functioning-lokipath · 3 years ago

Text

SH - Sherlock x Depressed!Reader - With a Little Help from My Friends - Words: 2,793

IMPORTANT A/N - PLEASE READ: As stated in the title, this story contains discussions of depression. There is mention of suicidal thought and self-harm. I personally don't think it's too intense in it's descriptions HOWEVER!!! If this will trigger you, for your own health and safety please do not read. My messages are always open if you'd like to talk. I wrote this partially based on my own feelings so I can understand to at least a degree. You're amazing and I love you all. As far as this story goes, just remember: it has a happy, very fluffy ending but it doesn't start that way. I hope you enjoy it, feel free to leave a comment!

Brief Backstory: Reader is friends with John and Sherlock. She is a nurse who works with John. The three met shortly after Sherlock came back. Sherlock and Reader have crushes on each other but won't admit to it. I think the story explains everything else.

"Y/N, I'm going to be honest," John said, putting his hand on your shoulder comfortingly. "I may have PTSD but I cannot fully put myself in your shoes. My depression is different than yours." You had called your best friend, John Watson, in a mild panic. You had been feeling depressed for some time, as he knew, but that day had been especially bad. There was no particular reason but your depression had gotten so intense that you knew you needed help to get past this particular wave. John invited you over to 221B, assuring you that his flatmate would be out for the next couple of hours. "As a doctor, I am going to prescribe you some medication. Lowest dose possible and only because I want to help you get some immediate relief but I know you do not want them to become permanent. Let's work on finding another solution for you, ok?"

"I don't know, John," you replied. You'd asked John to be your Doctor since you didn't go to one regularly and he didn't mind your irregular checkups. "I've tried just about everything. The only outlet that seems to help is writing and even then," you trailed off, trying not to cry again. "This feeling just won't go away and I don't even know why it's there in the first place. I just want it to stop."

"I think you should talk to Sherlock."

"What?" You squeaked. "Why in the world would I talk to Sherlock?"

"I can't tell you why, Y/N. As both your Doctor and Sherlock's, I have to respect certain amounts of patient confidentiality. However, as your friend, I think you should talk to him."

"I don't know."

"Trust me," He replied. Smirking slightly, he added, "Doctor's orders."

"Ok, John," you chuckled. He smiled and hugged you. "Thanks."

"Now how about we go and fill this prescription and then maybe get some ice cream?"

"Well, honestly," you sighed. "The ice cream sounds great but I didn't sleep well last night. I was actually wondering if I could just take a nap here for a bit. I sleep better here sometimes." You blushed but John nodded understandingly.

"Of course," He replied. "I'll run down to the drugstore and fill this for you. Meanwhile you get some rest. I'll let Sherlock know you're here just in case he ends up getting back before I do. Will you be ok by yourself?"

"Yeah," You smiled. "This is a safe space for me. I'll go grab a blanket. Thanks again."

"Don't mention it. Just remember, talk to him."

"I'll try."

About 15 minutes later, Sherlock arrived back at the flat. He'd gotten John's texts.

John: If you get home in the next 45 minutes, be quiet. Y/N is over and she's taking a nap. I have to run out for something.

Sherlock: Is everything ok? - SH

John: She said she had a bad night.

Sherlock: She must have had a reason to come over in the first place though. - SH

John: She's going to need to tell you that herself. Don't ask. Do you understand me? Let her tell you. Be nice, ok?

Sherlock: When am I not nice to Y/N? - SH

John: Ok, that is true. You like her too much to be rude to her. If you could just hold back your deductions for one second I will say this: you two have more in common than you think.

He hurried home, not to wake you up of course, but because he wanted to see you. If there was something seriously wrong, he wanted to try and brace himself for it first. He couldn't help the smile playing at the corner of his lips when he thought of you. You two were good friends, that much was obvious to everyone. But Sherlock could see the potential for something more. He liked you a lot. You were just as smart, sassy, and sarcastic as he was. But you also could be extremely kind and caring to others and especially to him. He still didn't quite understand why you cared for him so but he was grateful. Before he could dwell on that too much longer, he arrived at 221B.

He quietly slipped inside and smiled at what he saw. You were curled up on the couch, sleeping like a baby. Apparently, though, you'd kicked off the blanket you had grabbed. Instead of picking up the blanket, he decided to take off his long coat and carefully lay that over you. You quickly cuddled into the warm fabric, unconsciously taking a deep breath, inhaling his unique signature left behind on the coat. Satisfied with what he'd done, he took off his suit jacket and went to the kitchen to prepare some tea for when you woke up. He knew you had a favorite tea and, unless John moved it or drank it all, there still would be some in the cupboard.

You woke to the smell of your favorite tea and a hushed exclamation from the kitchen. Opening your eyes slowly you saw Sherlock in at the counter trying to set up a tray with the teapot and cups. Recognizing your surroundings a bit more, you realized what was on top of you. Sherlock was just about to bring out the tray but you decided to pretend you were still asleep. The chances of fooling the Detective were low, but you wanted to try.

"There," He whispered to himself, setting the tray on the coffee table. You could hear him settling down on his chair, likely getting into his 'palace pose' as you called it. For a moment you were happy. You had actually gotten some quality sleep, you were currently cuddled up in Sherlock's famous coat and Sherlock had even made you tea. But that feeling quickly faded. Tears threatened to spill out of your still closed eyes as self-deprecating thoughts filled your mind.

'John probably told him to make me tea. He probably covered me with his coat so I wasn't as much of a distraction. He doesn't want me here. He never does. Why does he even tolerate my presence? He probably wishes we'd never met,' You thought. Your mind was going a million miles an hour and gaining. Without your notice, the tears began rolling down your cheeks and quiet sobs escaped your lips.

"Y/N?" Sherlock whispered. You're eyes shot open. You hadn't heard him get up. Now he was kneeling right next to you, one hand hovering over your arm. "Are you ok?"

"Oh, Sherlock!" You cried. "I-I wish I knew."

"C'mere," he said, motioning for you to sit up. Once you did so, he pulled you into a tight hug.

"What's this for?"

"You always give me and John a hug when you see us. You haven't done so for the past 5 days. I-" he paused briefly before lowering his voice and continuing. "I missed it."

"Oh." You weren't quite sure how to reply to that. You leaned into his embrace, letting yourself get lost in the moment.

"Y/N? Is there something I can do to help?"

"How much did John tell you?" You asked. You wouldn't have been mad exactly if John had told Sherlock to talk to you, but you wanted to think Sherlock was reaching out on his own.

"He told me you had a bad night."

"That's all?" You asked, surprised. You pulled away slightly and stared into his eyes. Sherlock nodded, frowning slightly as he tried to deduce you.

"Why are you afraid to talk to me?" You turned away, embarrassed and unsure what to say. "Be honest."

"I don't want you to make fun of me. I have-" You took a deep breath, steeling your nerves and preparing to just jump right in. "I have been extremely depressed lately and I didn't want to hear another speech about how all I need to do is exercise and eat right and stop thinking about sad things. Well you know what? I can't stop it! I can't help it if I feel like a useless pile of trash that should be thrown in the bin and burned." By the time you finished your little tirade, you'd gotten up and started pacing the floor. Then you turned and faced Sherlock. His expression was neutral but there was an obvious sadness in his eyes, one you didn't expect to see. It wasn't of pity. If you had seen that you also would have given up on the conversation. No, it was almost an understanding, an empathy. His eyes were actually glistening with tears.

"Have you ever felt like," he paused, voice unsteady. "Like giving up?" He whispered, unable to hold eye contact. You nodded silently. He got up slowly and walked towards you. At first, you thought he would hug you again but then he started unbuttoning his shirt.

"Uh, Sherlock?"

"Just wait a moment. I want to show you something." He carefully shrugged off the purple shirt that you, admittedly, loved so much and tossed it on the chair. "Only one person knows about this. You will be the second. You remember I told you about Moriarty's network?"

"Yes, the day we met. I asked you about your work, a simple question. And I got an answer that lasted 3 hours." Sherlock chuckled dryly.

"Yeah, sorry about that."

"Oh, no. Please don't apologise. I-" You sighed, rubbing your forehead. "I tend to make jokes when I'm nervous."

"I know." He smiled at you with, yet again, a completely unreadable expression. "You remember though." You nodded, opting to stay silent as he explained. "Well, those 2 years dismantling his network weren't easy. Not physically and certainly not emotionally. As a result of the different missions, I received many wounds on my body in various locations. I was," He paused, took a deep breath, and closed his eyes. "I was depressed, guilt-stricken and suicidal. I figured I had hurt my friends enough. If they thought I was dead maybe I should just go on with it."

"What changed your mind?"

"I didn't want to do it on a mission. I wanted to see home again one more time. So to temporarily relieve the pain I," He sighed. Well, I wouldn't let my wounds heal. I'd pick at them. Mycroft finally convinced me to come back officially because he needed my help. I never told him about this. I think he knows but we don't discuss it." He looked down, obviously embarrassed and feeling more emotionally naked than physically. "You can look," he said. It was as if he'd read your mind. You were trying to be respectful and not stare but you realized that's what he wanted to show you. You had, on occasion, seen him shirtless before but you had never realized how bad some of the scars were.

"Sherlock, I-I don't know what to say. I-" You were completely shocked. Not offended. But actually comforted that he understood you. "Thank you," You finally said.

"Actually I wanted to thank you. I didn't just show you this to prove that I understand your feelings." You looked at him confused. "The day we met. You were leaving work, correct?" You nodded.

"It had been my first day there. John had been happy with my work and requested that I stay assigned to his office permanently. John had already finished up and headed home but there was some paperwork I had to finish so I was leaving about an hour late. Come to think of it, John said he had plans with you that evening. Why were you there?"

"That's what I wanted to tell you. I met you less than a month after I came back. I had still been quite depressed so I was still picking at my injuries. That day had been a bad day for me. So I cancelled my plans with John and I decided to go back to where I started this whole mess and finish it."

"Wait, are you telling me that-"

"You saved my life." Sherlock took one of your hands in his own and held it tightly. "I had memorized the work schedules of most everyone there and knew how to slip in unnoticed."

"But you didn't factor in me."

"Correct. When I ran into you, quite literally in fact, as I was entering the building, I was surprised. Not just by your presence but by what I deduced about you. You intrigued me. I had to find out more about you so I invited you to have a cup of coffee with me."

"Which turned into dinner." Sherlock nodded. "And since you were so intrigued by me, you forgot all about that."

"In a manner of speaking. You weren't a cure-all, mind you. You helped, though, by giving me a new mystery to investigate: you. That night, when I got home, I told John everything. He helped me too and when I mentioned you he couldn't stop singing your praises. He is very proud of you and your work you know."

"Yeah, I guess so," You replied, a little embarrassed. "Thank you, Sherlock. I'm sorry that you went through all that, but, I'm glad I have someone who understands. And I'm glad you're here to help me."

"Me too, Y/N. Me too," He replied.

"Can I, um, can I have another hug?" You asked, blushing and smiling. Sherlock rolled his eyes.

"If you must," He sighed, holding his arms out. Any other day, you would have thought he genuinely didn't want personal contact. But today you realized he was simply teasing. You wrapped your arms around his waist and leaned your head on his chest. You felt him relax as he leaned forward a little to cocoon you in his arms. "I care about you, Y/N. I don't care about many people but you mean so much to me. I-" You looked up at him and pressed a finger to his lips to quiet him.

"You don't have to say it, Sherlock. I know." He smiled and looked somewhat relieved. You knew he wasn't good with feelings and that was fine with you. "I love you too."

"I wanted to be the first one to say that," He pouted. You chuckled softly and booped his nose.

"You already have." He smiled and kissed your forehead lightly.

"I know this won't fix everything right away. I know you'll still have bad days. But I wanted you to know you could come to me too."

"I know. Thank you again, Sherlock." At that moment, John walked in with a bag from the store.

"Oh, hello!" He chirped, happy to see you hadn't gotten into a yelling match. Then he noticed Sherlock's shirt, or rather, lack thereof. "So, uh," He stuttered, unsure of what to say. "What should I do with this?"

"First of all, thank you, John, for giving me the guts to talk to him about this. And second, I think I'll give it a try. You know, to try and prevent a really bad day when you guys aren't available or if talking still isn't enough. But for today I think I'll be alright," You said, turning to John with a smile.

"Well, I'm glad. So did you just talk about that or did he finally tell you that he's had the biggest schoolboy crush on you from the moment he met you?"

"John!" Sherlock yelled. You laughed loudly.

"Not in those words exactly, John," You replied. "Don't worry," You added, turning to Sherlock and ruffling his curls. "Your secret's safe with me."

"Good. Now if you don't mind, I need your input on this case."

"Me?" You asked, quite surprised.

"Yes," He said as if it was obvious. "You're a woman after all!"

"And that is important because?"

"The killer was a woman obviously but I can't understand why she would do it!" The two of you went off into your own little world, completely ignoring John as he cooked dinner.

John: Ok, mates, get your tuxs out. Won't be long now.

Greg: He finally proposed? 😀

John: Not yet, give it a week.

Mycroft: John, you forget I monitor his spending habits.

John: And?

Mycroft: He's had a ring purchased for some time now.

Greg: 3 days tops.💍

Mycroft: I would estimate about 3 days as well, Detective Inspector.

Greg: We're in a Group Text. Talking about our friend like a bunch of teenage girls at a slumber party. I think you can call me Greg.

Mycroft: If I must.

John: So, girls, will you help me make the plans?

Mycroft: Of course. He is blood after all.

Greg: Count me in! Wouldn't miss it! 🕵️👰

Sherlock BBC Taglist

@lucywrites02

@delightfulheartdream

@bartv21

@another-crazy-fangirl

@ladylulu143

@gaitwae

@for-hearthand-home

#sherlock #sherlock bbc #sherlock imagine #sherlock fanfic #sherlock x reader #sherlock x y/n #sherlock oneshot #depression #ptsd #mentions of torture #self harm discussion #potentially triggering #trigger warning #TW #anxiety #good friends #john watson #mycroft holmes #greg lestrade

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ukrfeminism · 4 years ago

Text

Got children? Then chances are you pay – or have paid–for childcare. And you’re paying a lot. In Britain, we have the second most expensive childcare in the world: over 35% of the average family’s income. It’s little surprise that almost two-thirds of women who return to work after becoming mothers are forced to work fewer hours, change jobs or leave the workforce altogether due to the crippling costs.

The lack of accessible, affordable, well-funded childcare is perhaps the single biggest barrier to women’s career progress – and the Covid-19 pandemic, when women have had to shoulder the bulk of the extra care, has accelerated the problem into a mounting crisis. That’s why Grazia and our parenting platform, The Juggle, are launching a campaign with the charity Pregnant Then Screwed, calling on the Government to lead a full, independent review into the childcare sector.

‘The cost of childcare is catastrophic for women, who are being forced out of the workplace or to accept the stagnation of their careers,’ says Joeli Brearley, founder of Pregnant Then Screwed. ‘The system doesn’t work for providers, either; the majority of childcare workers are women, who are paid appallingly. We urgently need a change.’

At a time when many families are suffering the financial effects of the pandemic, costs are rising rapidly. This year’s annual report by the Coram Family and Childcare Trust found that 25 hours of nursery care for a child under two costs an average of £138 per week, or over £7,000 per year – that’s 4% more than a year ago. For a child aged two, it now costs 5% more.

Compare the UK to other countries and it’s clear the odds are stacked against British women. Here, most parents can access free childcare hours when their child turns three. But in Sweden, all children over the age of one can attend full-time preschool, with fees capped at 3% of parental income. Similarly, in Germany, children over the age of one are entitled to a place in a state- provided nursery at a low cost to parents, while in Korea, where the system is entirely state-subsidised, parents pay nothing at all.

‘In other countries, childcare is viewed as essential infrastructure,’ says Joeli. ‘We see from Scandinavian countries that having a properly subsidised system has enormous benefits for the economy.’ The Women’s Budget Group, which analyses how Government policies affect women, estimates that up to 95% of the cost of free universal preschool childcare could be recouped from the increase in employment and reduction in state benefits – yet ‘Governments think short-term,’ Joeli says.

In fact, last December, the Government actually announced a reduction in childcare funding, leading to the predicted closure of 30,000 nurseries and preschools by Christmas. This, when Pregnant Then Screwed’s research shows 15% of working mothers either have been, or expect to be, made redundant since the start of the pandemic – largely because they had to juggle their jobs with so much extra childcare – will be disastrous for women’s progress.

Katie, a marketing manager, is one of thousands of women quitting her job because she simply can’t afford to work. ‘I’m currently on maternity leave with my second child and have calculated that with both of them in part-time childcare, my contribution to the family finances will be £30 per month. It’s impossible to make it work on my salary,’ she says. ‘I’m devastated that I have to take a career break, which I know will set me back and make me far less appealing to employers when I eventually go back.’

Nalini Raman left her job in advertising after paying £2,800 per month for both her sons to attend nursery. ‘Within 24 hours of my salary hitting my account, it disappeared on childcare,’ says Nalini, who now runs a children’s party business, Party Genie. ‘I was left with about £200 per month for all my slog, and there were times when my husband had to pay for my train pass. It just wasn’t worth it.’

Many others have to snatch moments to finish work they can’t fit into the days they have childcare. Lucy Baker, a confidence coach, was deluged with responses when she posted recently on Twitter about paying £400 per month for her two-year-old son to attend nursery just two days a week. ‘So many women replied with their own stories of the extortionate sums they had to pay just so they could work,’ she says. ‘I’d love to work more, but I simply can’t afford to, so I do as much as I can in the two days I have, then end up working at night when the kids are in bed to catch up. It’s exhausting.’

Of course, for solo and single parents, working significantly reduced hours or taking a career break usually isn’t an option. Claire, a solo mother and primary schoolteacher, fell into debt after struggling to find £1,000 a month to pay for her daughter’s nursery. ‘I earned too much to qualify for Universal Credit, but had absolutely no money left for food or anything else after paying my mortgage, bills and the ridiculous nursery fees,’ she says. ‘My credit card debt was getting out of control, which was so stressful and, at one point, I had to borrow money from a kind friend. Eventually, I made the decision to sell my house and move somewhere a lot cheaper and smaller as it was the only way I could afford the last year of childcare before my daughter goes to school.’

A change is long overdue, so we’re asking our readers to sign Grazia and Pregnant Then Screwed’s petition demanding an in-depth review of the system. ‘We want it to look at how many mothers would work more if childcare was properly funded and the benefits that would have,’ says Joeli. ‘We want to know what a system that makes childcare affordable and pays its workers a decent wage would look like. We want childcare to be seen as an investment, not a cost.’

HELP US MAKE A CHANGE

Years of underfunding has left the childcare sector on the brink of collapse, yet the Government refuses to acknowledge the devastating impact on our children, economy and women’s equality.

We are calling on the Government to commission an independent review into the funding and affordability of childcare and to accept its recommendations.

—

Bolding for emphasis my own. UK citizens can sign the petition below:

#Parenting #childcare #childcare costs #Marxist feminism #economic feminism #uk radfem #uk radical feminism #uk radical feminist #uk feminism

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the-scandalorian · 4 years ago

Text

Tempered Glass: Chapter 7

Pairing: Din Djarin x Female Reader Rating: M (will become explicit) Word Count: 5.5k Warnings: slow burn, canon-typical violence, cursing, pining, Din in suspenders, fluff Summary: Din takes a job with his old crew, and you and the kid wait for him on Arvala-7. Notes: Sorry this took me forever!

Previous Chapter | Masterlist | Next Chapter

Image from The Art of Star Wars: The Mandalorian

After you left the atmosphere of Tatooine and jumped into hyperspace, Din swiveled his chair around to face you in the copilot’s seat.

“I should take a job. Everything we made went to Peli, and I don’t like being low on credits. There’s a crew I used to run with...I can reach out to them...” he hesitated then added, “but you and the kid can’t come with me.”

“What do you mean I can’t come with you?”

He sighed, shoulders dropping. “I mean, I don’t trust them enough for you and the kid to come.”

“If you don’t trust them, wouldn’t it be better to have backup?”

“I just—,” he looked away, “I don’t want them to know either of you exist.”

“If you don’t trust them, should you be taking a job with them?”

“We don’t have a lot of options.”

“I could get work somewhere. We could go somewhere safe enough for a few weeks. There are some places where I have contacts, and non-bounty hunting work is usually less conspicuous.”

“I don’t think we should stay anywhere that long right now.”

“But—”

“I’ll feel better if you and the kid are safe together.”

“I—”

When he bowed his head in a silent appeal, your determination crumbled.

“Ugh, fine.”

He sighed in relief, reaching out to rest his hand on your knee briefly. His touch was reassuring.

“But, just so you know, this is only going to work once, so don’t think that my staying back with the kid is going to be a regular thing.”

He removed his hand and turned back around to face the viewport.

“I am taking your silence as tacit agreement,” you said to the back of his helmet.

He chose to ignore that, fiddling with the controls instead.

***

Now that you’d both admitted you wanted to stay together, abandoning the pretense of strategy and convenience all together, things were a little off between you and Din. Neither of you were used to being vulnerable, so conversations were slightly stunted again. You found yourself being overly polite, and Din was doing the same.

That first night back on the Crest, he offered you his bunk.

“I’m not taking your bed. You need it to take off your helmet.”

Besides the unshakable lingering chill of the hull, sleeping there wasn’t that bad. You usually slept with every sweater you owned on and that kept you warm enough.

“Use it when I’m not. You shouldn't have to sleep on the floor.”

“Sure, thanks,” you agreed, knowing you’d never take him up on that. You didn’t want to be on a different sleep schedule than he and the kid.

You did try to nap with the kid in Din’s bunk the next day because there wasn’t all that much to do in hyperspace. As soon as you lay down, though, you knew it was a mistake. First of all, it was crazy uncomfortable (somehow not better than the literal floor and the close walls made it slightly claustrophobic), and second—and far more importantly—it smelled overwhelmingly like Din. It smelled like his pine-y soap and beskar and blaster residue and leather and whatever else made up his infuriatingly good scent. It conjured images of crackling fires and golden skin and warm embraces and taut muscles.

Shit.

There was no chance you were going to be able to fall sleep when all you could think about was him.

The kid, on the other hand, was snoozing contentedly beside you. When you’d fully given up on napping, you edged your way out the bunk carefully, doing your best not to wake him.

Din was sitting in the hull on a long crate against the wall, cleaning his blaster, the pieces spread out next to him. Usually, when you were in the hull at the same time, you’d find a place across from him. Instead, you purposefully sat next to him, drawing your knees up to your chest and leaning against the wall.

You decided you were going to push through this awkward phase and make things not weird right there, right then. And you were going to do that the best way you knew how.

He tilted his helmet toward you momentarily then refocused on the blaster in his hand.

“Can I ask you something?”

“Yes,” he said, running a rag along the barrel.

“How does one develop a catchphrase? Does it happen organically or is there an iterative brainstorming process?”

Din paused, sighing dramatically, set his blaster and the rag down next to him, and pushed himself back until he was also leaning against the metal wall. His helmet clunked slightly as he relaxed it back. “This is the way is not a catchphrase. It’s a tenet of the Creed.”

“And ‘I can bring you in warm or I can bring you in cold’ is also a tenet of the Creed?”

He lolled his helmet to the side, looking down at you. “Okay, fine, that one isn’t,” he conceded.

“So you admit it—you have at least one catchphrase that you regularly use on bounties.” You smirked up at him.

Without missing a beat, Din fixed you with that unreadable visor and quipped: “I’ve been told I have a sexy voice. I’m just giving the people what they want.”

Your jaw dropped, a shocked laugh echoing through the hull. You had planned on teasing him and had not expected him to turn it around on you so smoothly.

“Uh... I was sort of hoping we’d stick to our unspoken agreement to not bring up the stupid things I said when I was drunk.” You looked down at your hands, suddenly unable to meet his gaze.

“Oh, definitely not.”

You looked back up. “Alright, well then in the name of fairness, we’re going to have to get you really drunk the next time the opportunity presents itself, so we can see what embarrassing things you say.”

He paused for a moment, considering, then said, “Does that mean you’ll carry me home?”

You cracked a smile, nodding vigorously. “Of course. That would only be fair.”

A warm laugh rasped through the modulator. You crossed your ankles in front of you, letting your knee rest against the cold beskar on this thigh.

“I feel skeptical of that promise.” He dropped a gloved hand to your knee.

“Okay, okay I can’t promise to carry you home, but I can promise to tie your shoe if needed.”

“My boots don’t have laces.” He lifted a foot off the ground to show you.

You shrugged playfully: “Well, that’s not my fault.”

“This doesn’t sound like a very good deal for me. I tied your shoe and carried you home.”

“To be fair, both were against my will.”

“But necessary.”

You rolled your eyes at him. “Okay, okay, I can’t carry you, and I can’t tie your shoe... so I’ll...,” you bit your lip as you fished around for something else to offer, “...hold your hand? And not let anyone tickle you.”

He huffed and rubbed his thumb over your knee: “I’m not ticklish.”

You pursed your lips. “Right, sure, of course not. My mistake.”

He harrumphed. “Can I ask you something now?”

“I’ll allow it,” you intoned seriously.

“Where are you actually from?”

“Naboo. Most of my back story was true—I just left out the one major detail.”

“Your favorite color?” he deadpanned.

You laughed. “Yes, exactly. What about you? Where are you from?”

“Aq Vetina.”

You waited, hoping he’d elaborate.

“When my parents died there, I was rescued by the Mandalorians and raised in the Fighting Corps.”

“I’m sorry,” you said, placing your hand over his and squeezing gently. “That sounds like a tough life for a child.”

“It was all I knew,” he explained, shifting slightly.

“Still, that can’t have been easy. It makes sense that you couldn’t leave the kid.”

“Yeah,” he said quietly, solemnly. There was a tension in his shoulders that hadn’t been there moments ago.

“Less serious question,” you replied, changing the subject to something lighter.

“Okay.” He relaxed a little.

“Why don’t you ever use a straw to drink with your helmet on?”

“These are the things you think about?” he laughed. His laugh was usually a quiet, muffled sound through the modulator, but it was getting easier to pick up on it. “There’s a seal on the helmet, otherwise the filters wouldn’t work,” he tapped the release on the side of his head. “So a straw isn’t a possibility, unfortunately.”

“Mmm,” you responded, “that is disappointing.”

He gripped your thigh lightly, turning toward you. “I, uh, heard back about the job... while you were asleep. It’s a go.”

“Ah... great. I was kind of hoping you wouldn’t hear back.”

“I know. It will be fine.”

“Okay... So, any ideas for where the kid and I should stay?”

To your surprise, Din explained that he had a trusted friend on Arvala-7. When you agreed to the plan, he disappeared to the cockpit to set the nav—a two-day trip.

***

That same evening, you discovered a new favorite activity on the Crest. Before bed, the kid was being particularly fussy, so you pulled out your data pad and downloaded the first children’s book you could find. It worked liked a charm.

From then on, it became a daily routine: you’d read to him until his eyelids drooped before his nap and before bedtime. Regardless of his mood, listening to you read seemed to soothe him. You’d pull him into your lap and settle onto your stack of blankets against the wall. He’d watch your face, enraptured, as you relayed story after story to him. His favorite—the story that elicited the most chirps and grabby motions and ear wiggles—centered on a family of frogs. You revisited that one at least once a day, sometimes more if he was grouchy.

You weren’t sure how to feel about his hyperfixation on that particular story given his appetite for frogs.

At this rate, your digital library was going to be largely children’s books. You didn’t mind.

You noticed that Din would find something to do in the hull while you read. The first couple times, he sat and cleaned one of his many weapons or sewed a hole in his flight suit. Very quickly, he stopped bothering with an ostensible task and would just sit and listen.

When you were still 15 hours out from Arvala-7, Din was seated on his usual crate in the hull, the one next to the weapons cabinet, as you finished the final page of a particularly thrilling story about a snail. The kid was snoring softly in your arms, so you clicked off your datapad, and got up to settle him in his hammock for his mid-day nap.

“You’re good with him.” Din was leaned forward, elbows resting on his knees.

“I guess,” you shrugged, snapping the door to Din’s bunk shut and turning back to him. “I just think about what I liked as a kid. I loved when my parents would read to me.”

He nodded, helmet trained on the floor between his boots.

“I’m sorry—” you started, realizing how that must have sounded to Din.

He looked up and cut you off. “Don’t be. It’s nice for him to have some normal kid experiences.”

“You know what he’d really love?”

“What?”

“If you read to him.”

He dipped his helmet slightly in acknowledgement, rolling his shoulders back at the same time like he was uncomfortable agreeing with that.

Several hours later, you pulled Din down next to you in your normal pre-bedtime story time spot. He had the kid in his arms. You switched on your datapad and toggled through the catalog of books you’d downloaded, all of which had colorful covers and silly, whimsical titles, until you found the frog book.

“Here,” you offered, passing it over to him.

You leaned your head back against the wall and closed your eyes, listening to Din’s serious, even voice narrate the heartwarming hijinks of a family of frogs. The kid cooed and babbled along.

To your (and the kid’s) utter delight, Din’s rendition slowly evolved into a full-on dramatic reading, complete with sound effects and slightly different voices for each character, as he leaned into whatever prompted the most enthusiastic responses from the kid. You kept your eyes closed and said nothing, worried that if you drew attention to this new development, he’d get self-conscious and stop. You couldn’t help from smiling a little though.

When the story came to its conclusion, you opened your eyes. Din was scrolling through the library of options, browsing for the next book. “What do you think? Which one next?” You looked at him, but he wasn’t asking you. The kid let out a string of gibberish, pointing with a teeny finger. Din read out the titles of several options, selecting the one that triggered the most animated trill.

As Din began the story, he shifted until his body was flush with yours. The places where his beskar made contact with you were cold, even through the fabric of your clothes, but you didn’t mind.

By the time Din finished the second book, the kid was displaying the telltale signs—drooping ears and unfocused eyes—that bedtime had arrived.

Din handed you the datapad and stood to tuck the kid into bed.

As he shut the door to his bunk, you said, “I think you just put me out of a job.”

He scoffed, but you could tell he was pleased.

***

As you got more comfortable around each other, Din took to walking around without his armor—beside his helmet—on. Most of the time, he’d even leave his gloves off. He wore either a flight suit that zipped up the middle or a black shirt and pants...with suspenders. The first few times, it was jarring to see him like that, without his armor. He looked wrong. It was like seeing a turtle without its shell... but if turtles were sexy.

The first time he emerged from his bunk with the suspenders hanging loosely by his sides, you stopped dead, mouth hanging open. He tilted his helmet sharply at you: “What?”

“You sometimes wear suspenders under your armor?”

“...Yes?”

You couldn’t help the laugh that escaped you and the goofy grin that spread across your face.

“What?” he prompted again, shoulders pulling up toward his neck.

“I just really wasn’t expecting that,” you laughed.

“What were you expecting?” The playful note in his voice left you flustered. He took a step closer, much more relaxed now that he was the one doing the teasing. He was getting too good at flipping things on you.

Instead of answering—because you were not about to address the fact that you had absolutely thought about what he wore under his armor—you strode up to him and pulled the suspenders over his shoulders. He stood uncomfortably still, arms hanging awkwardly by his sides.

“What are you doing?” He looked down at his shirt then back up at you.

“I just want to get the full picture.” You looked him up and down.

“Thought about this a lot, have you?” He quirked his helmet down at you suggestively. It was only the second time you’d gotten that particular flavor of head tilt, and you...didn’t hate it. It made your neck feel hot. You disregarded the intense desire to grab him by the suspenders and jerk him toward you.

Instead, you narrowed your eyes at him, enjoying this new bold flirtation. Without looking away from his visor, you hooked a finger through one of the suspenders and pulled it out a couple inches, letting it snap back against him.

“Ow.” He stated it so matter-of-factly that it obviously hadn��t hurt, but for dramatic effect, he rubbed the spot on his chest where it hit him.

“You’ll survive,” you assured him, patting his shoulder and brushing past him to climb the ladder to the cockpit. When you sat down in the pilot’s seat and kicked your feet up to rest on the console, you still had a smile on your face.

***

A few hours later, you were seated in the copilot seat with the child held tightly in your lap as the Razor Crest descended through the atmosphere of Arvala-7. On the way, Din shared how he’d met this friend—he had helped Din when he was originally tracking down the child months ago.

However, when you asked what his friend’s name was, Din said he didn’t know. Honestly, you weren’t even that surprised. Just exasperated.

Din told you the details of when he tracked down the child, including the assassin droid he'd crossed paths with. He explained how he’d teamed up with IG-11, but in the end, he had to destroy the droid to protect the kid. The anger in his voice was raw when he described watching IG-11 point his blaster at the child.

As the dusty, cracked surface of the planet came into view, you asked, “Is that what caused your thing with droids?”

“What thing?”

“Din.”

He was silent for a long moment.

“Droids destroyed my home planet, killed my parents. They’re the reason I was a foundling as a child.”

His words washed over you, and your heart dropped. You leaned forward in your seat to put a hand on his shoulder. He stayed perfectly still, helmet trained on the controls in front of him.

“I’m sorry.”

He nodded stiffly and reached up to squeeze your hand briefly.

“We’re about to land.”

You took that as a cue to drop the subject for now.

***

You and Din, the kid in his arms, approached a small collection of low structures. You swept your eyes across the uniform landscape—all was dry and sienna and flat. The Ugnaught’s homestead was the only sign of habitation in sight. The buildings were brown and domed, and windmills creaked slowly in the warm breeze. Three blurrgs in a large corral watched you balefully.

“Mandalorian!” the Ugnaught greeted, emerging from the door of his low home.

“Ugnaught,” Din replied with a nod.

“I did not think I would see you here again. What business brings you back to Arvala-7?”

“I was hoping that my friends could stay with you for a couple nights—I’ll pay you for the lodging.”

Of course he'd refer to me and a literal infant as his "friends."

You introduced yourself, offering your hand.

The Ugnaught bowed his head slightly as he clasped your hand: “It is nice to make your acquaintance. I am Kuill.”

At least Din knows his name now.

Kuill turned back to Din. “The child remains in your care,” he observed.

“Yes,” said Din, offering no explanation. He set the child down on the ground, and he toddled his way slowly over to Kuill.

Kuill scooped up the baby, and he chirruped happily, reaching toward his whiskery mustache.

“It hasn’t grown much.”

“I think it might be a Strand-Cast.”

You shot Din a skeptical look. He’d never shared this particular theory of his with you.

“I don’t think it was engineered. I’ve worked in the gene farms. This one looks evolved. Too ugly,” mused Kuill.

You raised your eyebrows at the frankness of his statement. He is not ugly.

“Your friends are welcome to stay with me. No payment will be necessary. I have spoken.” Kuill turned and headed back inside without so much as a backward glance.

“I insist,” Din said to his back.

Kuill disappeared into his home.

Din turned to you: “He does that. Just ends a conversation like that.”

“I understand why the two of you get along so well. Men of few words.” You raised an eyebrow at him.

Din nodded, reinforcing your point inadvertently.

You and Din stepped closer to each other at the same time. For the first time, you let the concern you were feeling color your features.

“I’ll be back in three days, if not sooner.”

He was padding his timeline in response to the worry that was etched across your face. You knew Din could defend himself—that wasn’t your fear. It was that, whether he liked to admit it or not, he occasionally let trust blind him. The irony of that wasn’t lost on you, considering how long it had taken for him to trust you. This was the trademark paradox of Din. He was loath to fully let people in, but he had a tendency to take people at face value and assume they would keep their word—because he always kept his word. He had a surprisingly generous worldview for someone with such a violent profession and brutal past.

Din reached down to grab something small that was tucked in his belt—the metal ball from one of the controls in the cockpit that the kid loved to play with. He occasionally pretended to be irritated whenever he wanted to play with it, but you knew he found it endearing.

He handed it to you. “He’ll want that.”

You smiled and nodded, looking at the sphere in your palm. Din raised a hand to your chin and tilted your face back up to his.

Do we... hug? He doesn’t seem like a hugger.

So instead, you offered, “Be careful, okay?”

“I will,” he promised. He stayed there for a moment longer, looking at you and rubbing his thumb along your cheek. Before you could decide if you should also try to hug him, he turned abruptly to walk back to the Crest.

You stayed and watched him as he walked the distance back to the ship and disappeared up the ramp. You stayed and watched as the Razor Crest rumbled to life and took off. You stayed and watched as it ascended through the atmosphere and vanished from view.

***

It was a relief to be off the ship for a few days—even if Arvala-7 wasn’t exactly your ideal planet. It would be a treat to eat real food, instead of shelf-stable ration packs, and to have more than the limited space of the ship to move around in... not to mention an actual bed.

Kuill was a kind and welcoming host. He offered you his spare room, where you placed your things, and you sat down for tea together in his small kitchen.

“How did you come to be in the company of the Mandalorian and the child?”

“I guess he has a soft spot for people who are wanted by the Empire?” you chuckled, and Kuill nodded somberly. “Now, we’re just helping each other out.” You weren’t really sure how else to explain it.

Kuill didn’t press you anymore than that, nodding sagely. Instead, while you sipped your tea with the kid on your lap, he told you about his background—decades of indentured servitude to the Empire before he worked off his debt and bought his freedom—in the solemn, frugal way that was clearly characteristic of the Ugnaught. You understood why Din trusted him: he was forthright, calm, wise.

“What can I help you with while I’m here?” you asked, already anxious to find something to occupy your time.

“You are my guest. You do not need to do any work.”

“I would be happy to,” you insisted. “I would rather be busy. I can help with cleaning or repairs—whatever you need. My formal training was in programming, but I’ve picked up general skills along the way.”

Kuill nodded and said, “Come.”

He turned and walked out of his house. You set down your tea on the table and followed him, the child tucked in the crook of your elbow, happily clutching the silver ball. Kuill stopped in front of the workstation that was a short distance from his doorway. Tools and wiring and various speeder parts were arranged on and around a long workbench and a collection of smaller tables and shelves. The circular backdrop of the workbench was the repurposed window of a TIE fighter.

An assassin droid was laid across the tabletop.

“Is this the droid that Mando shot?”

“I believe so, yes. It was left behind, in the Mandalorian’s wake of destruction. I found it lying where it fell—devoid of all life. I recovered the flotsam and staked it as my own in accordance with the Charter of the New Republic. Little remains of its neural harness. Reconstruction will be quite difficult.”

“What are your plans for it?”

“To convert it from an assassin droid to something more useful: a protocol and nurse droid.”

You nodded. “Handy.”

“I will have to reconstruct the neural harness, and then it will have to relearn every function from scratch. It will be a blank slate on which to program something nurturing instead of destructive. You may help me restore him if you would like.”

“Of course.”

The two of you got to work.

***

That night, when you lay down to sleep, you tossed and turned. The child was snuggled in a makeshift crib next to your bed. You found yourself sitting up periodically to check on him. Every time you checked on him, he was sleeping soundly.

Eventually, you slipped out of your bed, tiptoed quietly through the house, and walked out into the cold, clear night. You walked aimlessly for a while, circling the corral of blurrgs. They were asleep, eyes shut tight, standing in a close clump. Then you turned to head out across the open plain and watch the stars through the thin veil of clouds that dusted the sky.

You were starting to regret that you hadn’t pushed harder to go with Din. He was with a whole team of people who sounded untrustworthy at best, malicious at worst. You couldn’t help but think of all the things you should have said to him before he left. You hadn’t even hugged him.

It was freaking you out a little just how attached you were to a man who you’d known for a couple months.

You walked until the chill of the night air became too much, then turned back.

In the morning, you sat at Kuill’s kitchen table again, feeding the child. Kuill moved around the small food prep area, pulling together breakfast and making tea.

You followed Kuill as he went about his daily jobs, caring for the blurrgs, doing routine maintenance, and continuing the work on IG-11.

You were sweating in the sun, hands covered in grease, concentrating on refitting a damaged arm joint when Kuill’s calm voice brought you out of your train of thought.

“It is curious that the Mandalorian elected to keep the child.”

You looked up at him. “He secretly has a soft heart,” you said, smiling to yourself.

“Yes, that much is clear, but he is also set in his beliefs, and this choice went against the Guild Code. What is curious is that such a small being could inspire a change of heart in such a rigid person.”

You considered his words.

“I... think he was just waiting to find a greater purpose than hunting, to find someone to love, you know? It comes naturally to him, but I don’t think he’d ever had the chance.”

Kuill hummed thoughtfully. “Is that not what we are all doing—looking for a greater purpose?”

“I guess?” You shrugged.

“And have you?”

“Have I what?” you asked, wiping a bead of sweat off your forehead.

“Have you found the greater purpose you were looking for?”

You considered for a moment then said, “Well... I found a purpose a long time ago, when I joined the Alliance, and since then, I’ve been too busy trying to escape the wrath of the Empire to really think about what’s next in the larger sense... Staying alive has been the main priority.”

Kuill hummed again, glancing over at the kid. “You weren’t looking for something greater, but it appears to have found you.”

“I...,” you started. You watched the child, who was siting on the hard ground admiring the silver ball clutched in his hand. “I’m not sure.”

“I have spoken,” said Kuill, bowing his head, and he lapsed back into silence.

You watched the kid as he dropped the ball and staggered to his feet, squealing excitedly as he chased a lizard that darted past him. You wondered where Din was at this exact moment, and your heart squeezed in a familiar way.

***

The second night was much like the first. You walked outside for some time, thinking of all the awful things that could be happening to Din.

What if they turn on him?

What if another hunter finds him?

What if he doesn’t come back?

It wasn't a crazy thought. You were used to people not coming back.

Until that moment, you hadn't considered that you'd be the sole guardian of the kid if Din didn't return. For a split second, you felt the crushing weight of responsibility for the life and safety and happiness of the tiny green child that Din must feel at all times.

Eventually you fell into a fitful sleep, waking early, and the day dawned bright and cold. As the sun climbed, the chill rapidly dissipated, making way for a dry heat that seemed to be the only weather condition on Arvala-7.

You spent the morning helping Kuill continue the repairs on IG-11. You did your best to not count the hours that slipped by. He’d said it could take three days, so there was no reason to be concerned yet.

But... did he mean he would return ON the third day? Or the fourth day?

And for that matter... did the day he left count as day one? Or was yesterday day one?

Did he mean seventy-two hours from the time he left? Or that he’d be back at the start of the third day?

How did I not clarify this before he left??

That evening, you were in deep in discussion about artificial intelligence when Kuill said, “I believe your Mandalorian has returned to you.” He pointed behind you, and you whipped around to see the Crest touching down in a cloud of dust in the distance.

“Will you—?” you asked, turning back to Kuill.

“I will watch the child.” He seemed vaguely amused by your enthusiasm.

You sprang to your feet and walked as fast as you could toward the Crest. You briefly considered running, but that felt dramatic. He’d only been gone a couple days.

Why did he land so fucking far away?

You’d made it about half the distance when the ramp of the Crest finally began to lower with a hiss. Your resolve snapped, and you started to jog. Din descended the ramp, and you were so relieved to see him that you weren’t even embarrassed anymore that you were literally running to him.

Din cocked his head—a curious head tilt—when he saw you sprinting at him across the dusty ground. He paused at the bottom of the ramp.

“Are you—?” he started to say as you crashed into his chest and wrapped your arms around him. He barely budged upon impact.

His shoulders relaxed immediately, and he pulled you tight against him.

Well, if he wasn’t a hugger before, he is now.

“I’m okay,” he reassured you.

“Good,” you said into the fabric bunched around his neck.

After a moment, you released him and stepped back, the steadying weight of his hands remaining on your arms. He looked like he was in one piece, but the slight heaviness in his shoulders told you that the job had taken a toll on him.

“I, uh, missed you too,” he said, a little awkwardly.

You smiled at him and took his gloved hand in yours to walk back towards Kuill’s home. You felt slightly giddy that you were casually holding the Mandalorian’s hand. He seemed taken by it too, his helmet tilted down to where your fingers were intertwined.

“The kid?” he asked, looking up to your face.

“He’s good. Misses you, I think. Ate several frogs. And one lizard. The usual. He is disgusting,” you laughed.

Din made a sound that you would almost swear was a snort. “Yeah, he is,” he agreed fondly.

Kuill was waiting outside his home, the child in his arms. When you and Din were close, Kuill set him down, and the baby tottered over to wrap his tiny arms around Din’s calf.

You watched as Din bent stiffly, slowly to pick up the kid.

“You’re hurt,” you realized.

“I'm fine,” he said.

You felt sure that wasn’t true, but you let it be for the moment.

“Thank you,” Din addressed Kuill. He reached into the pouch of his belt for credits.

“I will not accept payment,” Kuill insisted, shaking his head. “In fact, your friend here helped me make great progress on my current project.” Kuill raised his eyebrows at you.

“Very well,” Din acquiesced.

You gathered your things and said your thank yous and goodbyes, returning to the Crest, which—with a jolt—you realized was already starting to feel like home.

***

Chapter 8

***

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sly-merlin · 4 years ago

Text

GOT PLAYED | JENO

Hello mam can I request a lawyer jeno scenario where reader (gender neutral so everyone can read) is a prosecutor and they are in the same court together

Lawyer Boyfriend jeno , gender neutral lawyer reader

Genre : fluff with nonsense bickering

Words: 1.5k

a/n: jeno is a big boi now! Happy jeno-ing!! Also the terms used are local to my country. It may vary in your state.

----

your butt was itching to dance out in the centre of the courtroom. Clicking your forefinger on the watch, you observed the lovely minute hand completing another circle, indicating the approaching end of the waiting time. The opposing party being a minute more late would mean nothing but good news for your client, resulting in another victory for you.

But when had you ever won anything without a little struggle! As the clock on the wall hit 11, the door of the room opened and across the room stood Jeno, breathing heavily like he had been running since hours. You rolled your eyes at his awful timing. He handed over his briefcase to his client and wore his blazer hurriedly while simultaneously bowing to the judge in deference and apology. The judge, disregarding his gesture with his hand called him to the front. You got up as well, in annoyance of course. You had very much hoped for his car to have punctured on its way but it seemed like he needed to get on your nerves even in the court as well. standing beside him, you couldn’t help but notice the wrinkles on the right side of his blazer. The oddity puzzled you at first but suddenly, with a subtle glare from his side, you were made aware of the reason behind his change of clothes. Not wearing the ones that you steam ironed last night was a show of anger towards you, even if it made him look like a fool in front of the whole chamber.

“a minute late and I’d have passed an interlocutory order against your client Mr.lee” breaking your trance, the judge warned him. He bowed again and mumbled a mannerly apology, the like of which you deserved too.

“today the hearing would start with the counter evidence of the defendant side, that is,” he sifted through the list of the evidence provided beforehand, “the bank records of both the parties. Please proceed advocate lee”

“yes, your honour. As I explained in a previous hearing, my client, mrs. Shin has been working as a manager of the Kwon industries since 14 years. On the other hand, mr. shin started a poker business with the money she used to save up for their only son’s future. All the transactions from her personal accounts to mr. shin’s were innocently carried out by her as she was kept under a false impression regarding the use of her money, which she never would have allowed in her right mind. The proof of these transfers is the evidence I’m going to present that is the receipts and annual reports.”

The urge to smack his tongue for the lies it told was uncontrollable but you breathed in. you inhaled all the bitterness back to your throat and stood there like an obedient child with a face ridden of any expressions.

After what felt like minutes, you snapped your head in his direction to notice the browsing he was doing in his briefcase. The questionable look on his face drew a smirk into your own as you understood the sensitiveness of the matter in hand. He forgot. The papers!

Throwing your charitable side out of the door, you turned towards the judge,

“it seems like the opposing counsel has nothing to produce, your honour.”

You felt his clenching jaw and irritated eyes.

“mr. lee, if you are unable to proceed then i’ll have to pass a maintenance order against your client.”

“no!” he interrupted, “that would be unfair to this poor lady sir. don’t penalise her for my negligence. The evidence can turn the course of this whole case. if you may, I’d request another date-

“he’s going to forget again. He forgets everything these days” before you could control, you spit out.

The judge didn’t seem to be impressed by your uncalled interruption so he warned you to speak only when allowed. But with a mouth as big as his, jeno never knew what resistance meant so he remarked,

“and my dear friend here forgets the ethics of a courtroom, disrespecting seniors like this! There is not much difference between us then I must say.”

Your lip twitched at the not so subtle mention of the fight you had in the morning, right before the breakfast. Now you were adamant on proving that no matter the place and circumstances, you were definitely not similar to him in any way.

“disrespecting and raising matters of importance are two varied things and my dear counsel should be reading those ethic rules for himself as he’s the one jeopardising the position of his client in the court due to his own manners. I request the court to grant mr. shin all the rights to his properties that mrs. Shin had seized years ago. He’s a disabled man and he cannot work by himself and the lack of evidence is a clear indication that the defendants are just trying to waste the time of the court. Along with the rights of the properties, a lawful possession of the house and maintenance charges are also requested. All the claims can be found on the page 15 of the-

“I object, your honour. I am accepting my mistake. This woman deserves a second chance. My junior was sick and since he has no near and dear in this town, I had to go and care for him. in the hurry, I forgot the papers at home. It was not delibra-

“what if you don’t remember this next time either? Until then my client is going to suffer in a small and stinky apartment and all because of your carelessness.”

“I’m not careless,” He whispered yelled.

“yes,” now facing him, you said, arms crossed in front of you torso, “a man who can’t even hold a mug properly shouldn’t be the one talking about-

“you started it by smashing the music box. It was a gift by jaemin. I bet you did it deliberately too!”

“I was sleep walking! I apologised already! There was no need to break my favourite mug you bit-

The sound of gavel reverberated in the small family courtroom, snapping both of you in the reality.

You gulped slightly, eyes boring into jeno’s but with unknown fear. In an instant, the worst consequences of blunder you both had knowingly-unknowingly committed flashed across your eyes and you both whirled around, backs bent like you both never knew what a straight spine ever looked like!

“keep your personal and professional life separate or choose the one most suitable. The court is adjourned for two days. You both shall be heavily fined for your inappropriate behaviour. Next time, I won’t be lenient. Collect your slips from the clerk.”

Apologising verbally, you took your leave.

Standing outside, you waited for the lunch time to pass so you could pay the fine. you were mad at jeno but more than him, you were furious with yourself for losing your direction. You had done exactly what you were trying to accuse jeno of in the court.

Your eyes were closed in regret when you felt soft lips on your forehead.

Smiling widely, jeno stood there as if he hadn’t been scolded for the unprofessionalism just a few hours ago.

“don’t talk to me.” You uttered, lowering your gaze.

“awww! Look how easy it is to rile you up. Thank you though”

unsure of what he said, you asked,

“for what?”

“for fighting with me! Your bickering saved my ass. The old man was going to decide the case but your cute brain worked at the wrong time! Now I have two days to turn all my lies into a living truth. All because of you my darling.”

“what the fuck I’m gonna ki-

“yeah yeah. kiss me all you want when we are home. Be professional here!” he breathed out. “how about I treat you to a nice meal to return the favour.”

Chest heaving up and down, you looked him dead in the eye, his revelations not sounding too amusing to your ears. Raising your hand up and waving the fine slip in front of him, you challenged,

“I dare you to repeat this again and I promise you wont get enough time to regret it!”

Not that you actually expected him to cry in front of you in intimidation, a hearty laugh from his body wasn’t anticipated either.

“what the fuck je-

You were once again cut off by his lips that met your cheek in a wet kiss, lasting too long for a public setting.

You hated the way he loved testing your patience.

Moving his soft lips from your cheek to your ear, he sighed before murmuring in an indecently low voice,

“you better get a new music box before jaemin visits me or I know how to make you regret your actions.”

Unmoved, you stared at him with doe eyes. He walked away before returning back only to snatch the paper slip from your hands.

“I’ll pay and sign. Go have lunch. Try to finish early today, I’ll be waiting for you.”

Innocently smiling, he left as if everything that had happened was nothing but delusion. And you hated the way he knew you like the back of his hand. But you were going to make sure he lost this one to you. Once and forever.

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justkending · 4 years ago

Text

Moral of the Story. Chapter 12.

Summary: Marrying too young out of highschool leads to a naive and failed marriage. Now 10 years later, word comes that the divorce was never actually completed. Bucky and Y/N have to come back together after all these years to settle what wasn’t all those years back. Passive attitudes, miscommunicated endings, and reminiscing of old loves and lives all comes back for the two.

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Y/N

Word Count: 5600+

A/N: Ya’ll have waited so patiently, and now it’s here. I hope I did it justice! Please let me know what you think as this was a chapter I was somewhat unsure of my writing...

Chapter Twelve:

The next morning came sooner than either was ready for.

For the most part, yesterday was actually quite civil. They had a small argument, but eventually had a good conversation, caught up some, and in a domestic manner, they set up a time to have ‘the talk’.

But now the talk was here and both their nerves were shot.

Y/N scheduled the talk later so she could sleep in and prepare herself for it, but who was she kidding? She wasn’t getting any sleep.

She got up at 7 and decided to go for a jog in hopes it would clear her mind some. False, that didn’t happen. When she got back to the house, Sherri was already gone on shift and her father was out in the garage working on whatever project he had going at the time.

So she went to the garden and decided she would snip some roses for a rose tea later. She was going to need the stress relief. Lucky for her, a bouquet of roses and other miscellaneous flowers were already wilting from a vase in the living room, so she plucked and chopped those for the tea and replaced them with the new ones she had cut.

By then, it was only 8:30. She still had an hour and a half before she needed to be there and it was a 15 minute drive at most.

She let out a groan as she grabbed her computer and decided to check her emails. Low and behold that kept her distracted as some of the people from the farmers market had reached out with questions. By the time she looked at the clock again, it was 9:30.

“Better early than late,” she sighed, grabbing her things and saying a quick bye to her dad before she took his spare car out.

Sure enough, she got there with 15 minutes to spare and sat in her car. Eventually, she made her way upstairs and knocked on the door.

Bucky opened it as if he had been standing by it the entire time.

“Hey,” he smiled softly.

“Hey,” she replied.

“Um, come on in. I have some coffee brewing,” he moved out of the way and motioned in.

Though she had been there once already thanks to the mishap Saturday, she hadn’t actually been inside the apartment. She had said her goodbyes to Steve outside the door.

But inside, was not what she expected. Bucky was a pretty messy guy back in highschool. His room was always cluttered and nothing was ever organized. That was Y/N’s area. She would come over and organize his clothes and stuff voluntarily because she liked doing it and it was a stress relief.

But this. This was closer to Y/N’s kind of living than highschool Bucky. There was a blanket ladder to the side where blankets were folded on it and cascading down in a neat manner. The coffee table had a small stack of books on it with a candle and small plant for decor. The furniture was mainly navy blue with accents or grey and leather kind of brown around the room.

It was nice and clean. Oddly perfectly organized too. The remotes were in a calculated line next to each other and coasters stacked precisely.

“Doesn’t look like I live here, does it?” Bucky laughed from the kitchen that opened up to the living room. “Teenage Bucky and 30 year old Buck are a little different. Military does that to ya.”

“I can see that,” she chuckled, moving into the room more and taking note of the full bookshelves framing the TV on both sides. “You have a whole library here.” She ran her fingers over the spinals and saw The Hobbit. “Not that I’m surprised,” she grinned at the specific book.

Bucky used to read to her all the time. It was one of her favorite ways to spend time with him. It would always be when they just wanted to be around the other, but not necessarily do anything. He would always have a book on hand and pull it out and begin reading out loud while she cleaned, did crafts or homework, was in the garden, or even if she was just driving and he was so engrossed in it and he couldn’t put it down.

“Yeah, well, you should see the guest room Steve’s staying in. That’s my actual library,” he chuckled, handing her a mug as he came into the room and stood by her. “I’m not sure if you still take your coffee the same way,” he said with a small smile.

“I do,” she smiled back, before kindly taking it and looking back at his collection. “You got quite the array of genres going on here.”

“I try to broaden my horizons where I’m comfortable,” he said, taking a sip and watching her as she scanned each book individually and moved to the next book shelf.

“And where you’re not comfortable?” she countered, looking back at him with a mischievous smirk before going back to her investigating.

He couldn’t help the smile that pulled at his lip. She still had that effect on him.

“Baby steps,” he answered.

There was a silence as she perused the library and eventually moved to the window where he had a nice view of the neighborhood and the city off in the distance.

“Chloe was headed to school this morning and told me her and Becca are helping with the prom committee this year.”

“Right, Bec mentioned something like that to me,” Bucky nodded, moving to one of the single chairs and sitting on the arm of it.

“Did they tell you the theme?” Y/N asked, turning back and holding the mug in both her hands as she took a sip.

“It’s a decade theme, right?”

“Roaring 20’s. Quite original, huh?” Y/N laughed before moving and taking a seat at the couch across from him.

“Wasn’t our Junior year one Great Gatsby theme?” Bucky chuckled.

“No, it was 40’s theme, and thank God it got canceled, because I’m not too sure how you would do decorations for that,” Y/N said, crossing her legs. “I mean it was the start of WWI. How do you make that prom related?”

“Eh, I’m sure they would have gotten the decade details wrong anyway,” he shrugged. “What was our senior year?”

“Moulin Rouge. Loved it, but I’m surprised it was passed by the admin considering it was based on-”

“A play about a prostitute,” Bucky finished. “Great movie, but probably not the best theme for high school kids.”

“Eh, maybe 5% of the kids actually knew what it was about though.”

“That’s true.”

And now the awkward silence set in. The lingering wake that was their past was waiting at the door to be the next guest let in. But neither was quite ready to answer the knock.

“I don’t even know where to begin,” Bucky breathed out eventually, looking down at his already half empty mug.

“I don’t know either…”

“We could just rip the bandaid off…”

“I feel like there’s more than just one bandaid, but that could just be my end,” she said blankly.

Bucky noticed just a pinch of bitterness in her words and knew she was holding back to keep things civil. Screw it. Things were going to be ugly, so might as well jump the gun.

“Just say it Y/N,” he said with his eyes closed, preparing for the punch to the gut.

She didn’t say it right away like he had been expecting her to throw it in his face. Instead, he heard pure sadness with her next comment.

“Why’d you kiss her Bucky?”

When he looked up, it wasn’t anger. It wasn’t rage. It was heartbreak.

He didn’t even realize he had moved close to her until he placed a hand on the couch that they both sat on now, and saw just how close to hers he was. But he was careful and didn’t close the gap.

“Doll,” he breathed out, but nothing followed.

“No, don’t drop those little pet names. I just want an answer,” she sniffled and stood up abruptly. Her resentment now surfacing like a coping mechanism. For one second. One second! She let it fall and she didn’t notice. Now, she was putting up the front.

He knew how this went. She was like this thanks to her mother. Always having to be the protector of someone’s feelings because of how use she was to someone constantly trying to hurt hers or someone she cared about.

He knew it was a front and it just took the right words and mannerisms to keep her from putting up her armor. It had just been so long since he was the one doing it.

“Just why? I just want to know why you took something we had since we were kids, and threw it out the window.” She now had her back turned toward him not showing her vulnerability, but he could hear the pain in her words.

“Y/N, please look at me,” he begged, standing and staying behind her at a safe distance.

“I can’t. I-I,” she sighed. He knew. She didn’t want him to see her cry. “Please just say why.”

He gave in.

“I didn’t kiss her, she kissed me,” he said in a breath. He got a scoff in response and he wasn’t surprised as this happened every time he tried to explain this to her.

“You’re going with that story again,” she let out a bitter laugh and finally turned.

She wasn’t crying yet, but her eyes had a small red rim to them and her lips always seemed to grow red too when she was on the brink of tears.

“If you mean the truth, then yes,” he sassed back.

“Fine,” she rolled her eyes, moving back to the couch and getting situated again. This time crossing her legs and placing a throw pillow in her lap as she sat her coffee down. “I said I would be civil and give you a chance so please continue. Whether I like the story or not, I need to hear it.”

Bucky let out a soft groan before moving back to his side of the couch. The distance further now.

“I was invited to my first college party by a guy in my chemistry class,” Bucky began.

______________

“It’s going to be a good one dude,” a guy named Darren smacked Bucky’s shoulder a little too hard and in an arrogant manner. “All the hot girls from that chem class will be there and a ton more.”

“Is it on campus?” Bucky asked, concerned. He’d done parties before, even college parties when he was in highschool, but he was anxious about getting caught after learning how intense campus security was. He could get kicked out of school for underage drinking and what not, and he worked really hard to get into this college.

“No, it’s at one of the old frat alums' houses down on 15th. He’s got a sick house and pays for half the drinks he gives us,” Justin shook his head. “He definitely is still trying to be a college kid and that’s why he does it all. What a sad life…”

“Right, um. Well, I’ll see. I got a test coming up in another class, so-”

“Don’t be that loser. One party night isn’t going to kill you.” A group of loud boys walked by and Darren seemed to want to be a part of their clique and quickly took off. “Just text me if you want the address. I’ll send it your way when you decide to not be a prude.”

Bucky rolled his eyes at the annoying classmate and went back to his dorm. Steve and him got matched with different people, but were lucky enough to be on the same floor.

Bucky was busy going over some notes for his upcoming exam since his roommate was out and was relishing in the quiet. He looked down at his phone and noticed Y/N and him hadn’t talked much today.

That wasn’t uncommon nowadays. With constant classes and college life, they texted here and there, but at night is when they would actually call and have long catch ups.

It was getting close to 8 o’clock in New York, so that meant it was about 6 for her. She usually called within the next hour or so, but Bucky was debating on going to this party so he figured he call earlier.

But when he called her phone, there was no answer. Strange. One more call and the same outcome. He decided to call her house she was renting by campus since her and her roommates had a landline.

It rang a few times, and when it did get picked up, it wasn’t a woman's voice. No guys lived there, and from what Bucky knew, none of her roommates had a boyfriend.

“Hello?” a voice sounded on the other end.

“Hello, who is this?” Bucky asked wearily.

“Uh, this is Reed,” he responded. “Who’s this?”

Reed… Reed Richards.

Reed happened to be one of Y/N’s new guy friends at school. He was a nerdy little thing, and supposedly he was just a study buddy, but Bucky had gone to visit her a few times and the guy seemed to be smitten toward her. She seemed oblivious to it, but Bucky was now getting other ideas.

“Reed, it’s Bucky,” Bucky gritted out. “Why are you at Y/N’s house?”

“Oh, hey Buck!” Reed said sweetly, clearly missing the envious tone of her husband. Yes, they were married at this point. “Um, I’m studying.”

“Studying?” Bucky scoffed. “Where’s Y/N? Can I talk to her please?”

“Um,” there was a pause as if he turned to look for her. “She can’t come to the phone right now.”

“Excuse me…”

“She’s indisposed at the moment,” he said almost nervously, and Bucky was seeing red.

“Reed, I’m going to need you to hand the phone to Y/N please,” Buck practically growled, but reeled it in not wanting to show he was as worked up as he was.

“I really can’t do that,” Reed gulped. “Um, how about I have her call you back when she can. I’ll let her know!”

“Let me talk to her, Richards.”

“Gotta go. Sorry!”

Like that, the phone hung up and Bucky pulled it back seeing the “Call Ended” pop up on his screen. Oh, he was pissed. He had a bad feeling about that Richards kid. He didn’t like the way he looked at Y/N. Like a love struck puppy. And said, love struck puppy, was fawning after a girl he couldn’t have. His girl.

Y/N was sweet about it, but oblivious like stated before. She had told Bucky he was over thinking it and he had nothing to worry about. She was Bucky’s and he was hers. No questions asked.

And though Bucky knew this deep down, Y/N was someone a lot of guys wanted in a girlfriend. He had hit the jackpot and because of that, he always felt that there was slight competition for her. Even when there wasn’t. But the thought of other guys looking and wanting her, made him a jealous man.

And jealous men do stupid things...

He tried calling Y/N again and no answer.

He sat there bouncing his leg and running a hand through his hair for the hundredth time in the past minute. A few seconds later, Steve walked in with his roommate, Sam, behind him.

“Hey, Buck,” he said kindly before noticing his mood. “You have any plans tonight?”

Bucky snapped his head in his direction and a mischievous smirk appeared on his face.

“Yeah, actually. How do you guys feel about a party?”

____________

Maybe a party with a messy mindset wasn’t the best idea for Bucky. He tended to make rash decisions when he was upset about something and it never played out well for him.

While at the party, he got a little more drunk than he was planning and didn’t notice that one girl there, Dolores, was all over him. He hadn’t been paying mind to her all night, but he also wasn’t trying to escape her either.

She was in the chemistry class that Darren and him shared and now realized that she had a small crush on him. Ok, maybe not so small. She was being handsy which he had pushed her away, but at one point he was so drunk he hadn’t realized she had followed him home.

He had somehow escaped Steve who noticed his disheveled state and was worried about him, but he was tired of being questioned and hovered over so he left. Clearly, not alone like he hoped he wanted.

He got back to his dorm housing, she kept thanking him for walking her home since she was the building over, but the whole time his mind wasn’t on her at all. He barely even heard her talking as they walked or even noticed that she had wrapped her arm through his and was leaning on him for support in her drunken mess as well.

But once he reached the entrance of the building, he really really wanted to be alone and this leech was still on him.

“Dolores,” he started, trying to blink away the alcohol that was slowly starting to turn into a headache.

“Don’t be silly, Buck. I told you to call me Dot,” she giggled still attached to his arm.

“Yeah, ok,” he brushed off. “Listen, I need to go call someone and you need to go home. I don’t know what ideas you’re getting, but-”

“Oh, I know, I just want to say thank you for walking me home,” she blushed, batting her eyelashes up at him.

“Right,” he dragged out, confused since they were at his dorm building and not hers. “So, I’m going to go now…”

“M’kay,” she hummed before leaning up and pressing a deep kiss to his lips.

He could taste the alcohol on her lips… Or maybe it was his lips. He couldn’t tell because of how disoriented he was. A part of him knew he was supposed to pull away, but the drunken part of him began to imagine Y/N’s lips and how much he missed them. He didn’t get to kiss them like he used to. They were halfway across the states now. It was a millisecond worth of kissing her back, not even realizing it wasn’t actually his wife.

“Bucky?” a soft and little voice came from behind them.

Bucky quickly pulled away and spun in his spot at it. That was the voice he was trying to call earlier, but never heard.

“Y/N?” he questioned with a tilt of his head, like a lost dog. Then it registered. Oh shit… “Y/N, wait!”

“Who the hell is Y/N?” Dot said in a drunken manner as she slumped on him some.

“His wife,” Y/N gritted out bitterly. “But how would you know he was married?” she huffed, looking down at his left hand seeing it bare. “Hard to tell when he’s not wearing a ring.” She let out a short breath out of her nose and her eyes began to gleam under the moonlight from the water pooling in them. She was quick to turn on her heels and start stomping the direction far away from the two.

“Y/N stop!” Bucky reached out for her chasing after her, but he was stopped for a second as Dot latched onto his arm.

“Where are you going?” she pouted.

“Dot, let go of me and go home,” he said sternly before pulling away and running in a sloppy manner to Y/N.

He didn’t hear the protest behind him as his vision tunneled in on the one person he was worried about, who was practically in a jog with how fast she was walking.

“Y/N, please stop!” he shouted trying to catch up with her. “Y/N!” Eventually, he caught her and wrapped a hand around her forearm.

“Ow, let go of me!” she said yanking her arm away, but his grasp was too strong.

“What you just saw is not what you think at all. I promise,” he pleaded with big doe eyes. His vision was still swimming.

“Wow, what a cliche thing for you to say,” she rolled her eyes before tugging her arm again. “Seriously Bucky. Let me go,” she grunted. “You’re going to leave fucking bruises.”

He let go quickly at that and watched as she rubbed at her arm. He didn’t mean to hurt her. God, now he had done it twice in less than a minute of seeing her.

“I’m sorry. I’m sorry,” he said, moving in front of her and hovering a hand over her arm. “I-I didn’t mean to-”

“I don’t care. Just get out of my way,” she sniffled, angrily rubbing her arm before stepping to the side and trying to walk past him. He matched her step though and kept his hands out in defense showing he wasn’t going to touch her, but she also wasn’t leaving. “James-”

He hated when she called him that because it always meant she was angry or disappointed with him.

“Please, please. You have to let me explain,” he begged, his eyes never leaving hers no matter how much she fought looking at him.

“I’m not about to play out a romance movie with you where you cheat on me and we go back and forth about giving you a chance to explain yourself. This is reality. I know what I saw and I don’t need you to try and explain it,” she sobbed and ran a hand down her face trying to hide the tears that were working their way down her cheeks.

“But it’s really not what you think you saw. She kissed me!”

“You didn’t pull away Bucky,” she countered.

“I-I,” he stuttered.

“You-You?” she mocked. “Yeah, see right there. That just proved to me I’m right,” she laughed in a not comical way. “Now move out of the way and let me go.” When she finally got around him, she began mumbling to herself. “God, and to think I booked a surprise visit for our anniversary and this is the surprise I get in return,” she said bitterly, new tears escaping.

Bucky heard it and once again ran back in front of her to keep her from moving anymore.

“You came here to surprise me?” he asked.

She scoffed again and popped her hip. “Yes, Bucky, I was trying to be a good wife and surprise you. We haven’t seen each other face to face in almost 2 months and I wanted to do something special.”

“I didn’t know-”

“Of course you didn’t. That’s what surprises are,” she sassed. “And clearly you didn’t even expect it because you had your little side hoe out in the open,” she said sharply.

“She’s not a side hoe. I don’t have those,” Bucky replied in equal frustration at her not hearing him out. “I told you, she kissed me. I was walking her home from a party because she was drunk. She has a crush on me apparently, and kissed me when I told her to go home.”

Y/N looked at him and studied his features for lies. Even if he was telling the truth, the idea he didn’t pull back and actually kissed her back was what was hurting her.

“It doesn’t matter. What matters is you didn’t stop it. You messed up, James. Accept it.” She shook her head in disappointment and gently pushed him to the side and started to walk away again. “Just give me some space.”

Not having a clear mind, Bucky shouted the next thing he thought in anger at her not believing him.

“Yeah, well, I hope you and Reed have a great time ‘studying’. He seems like a nice guy,” he shouted in spite.

She turned slowly around and looked at him in disbelief.

“What the hell are you talking about?”

“I called earlier tonight to talk to you, and that Richards kid picked up the phone.”

“Yeah, and?” she crossed her arms looking at him with a glare.

“Oh, don’t play dumb with me. You don’t think I can’t see the longing looks he sends you?” Bucky said with a disgusted face as he walked toward her.

“We’ve been over this. He doesn’t like me like that-”

“Bull shit!”

“Excuse me?!”

And here we have fire and fire playing a dangerous game ladies and gentlemen.

“He’d take any chance to get you to himself. Which would explain that when I called he didn’t hand the phone over to you. Hell, for all I know, you two get all close and cuddly whenever I’m not there,” he said in a savage way. “But of course you wouldn’t notice that would you, Y/N? Cause you’re too naive to see those damn heart eyes he throws at you.”

Y/N took a step toward him and Bucky could see the rage burning in those Y/E/C orbs. If he wasn’t so wasted, he would have been smart enough to step back and learn that he was overstepping a boundary.

“Are you seriously accusing me of cheating on you just because you got caught?” she scoffed.

He didn’t respond but instead shrugged his shoulders and pursed his lips.

“You piece of shit bastard! You have one a hell of a nerve-”

“Do I? Or do you not like being called out?” he said, matching her step, the two now nose to nose practically.

She shook her head and let out a bitter laugh before looking back into his eyes.

“You wanna know why he wouldn’t let me talk? I was outside packing a cab to leave for the airport. He was covering for me because he knew I was surprising you,” she began. “He actually helped me plan the trip and got me a good deal because his family friend is a pilot and pulled some strings. I wasn’t going to be able to do it without him due to money crunches, but he was nice enough to help me out so I could visit you after 2 months of not seeing each other. So no. You’re not calling me out on anything because your facts are askew.”

Bucky deflated at that some. Shit. He just dug himself into a bigger hole.

“And you know what? He told me you called. I tried calling you back and you didn’t answer. Even tried calling you when I landed and no answer there either. So you can understand why I don’t want to stand here and listen to your excuses after I got a cab and drove all the way to campus to surprise you at your dorm, but instead see you making out with another girl!”

Again, no answer. Bucky’s eyes were just wide in disbelief. How the hell could he have messed this us up so bad?

“What? Out of comebacks now?” she mocked. He didn’t respond and she saw that she successfully put out the fire in his eyes. Nothing but lingering smoke left over from being drowned in realization. “Great. In that case, I’m headed home.”

She turned on her heel and though Bucky should and would have ran after her once again, he was glued to his spot. So many things just went down the drain...

______________

Present Time

“I know how the story goes,” Y/N rolled her eyes at the memory she hated revisiting. “My question was why? Why did you kiss her back?”

“Because I was jealous and I was thinking of you,” Bucky shouted without looking at her.

“What?” she said softly after a second.

“I went to the party cause I was upset about Reed and the phone call, and I was drunk off my ass when she kissed me, and I imagined you. It had been too long since I saw you and when she kissed me, I was picturing you,” he explained, letting out a breath.

“But it wasn’t me Bucky…”

“I know. My brain even knew, but I wasn’t in the right mind…”

“And the accusation about Reed?”

“Like I said, I was jealous,” he mumbled.

The two were on other sides of the couch. Bucky with his head hung low in guilt and Y/N staring at him intently.

“Did you really think I would do something like that to you though? Throw all of our time spent knowing and loving each other because a guy may or may not have had a crush on me?” she questioned, finally getting him to raise his head.

“He definitely had a crush on you,” Bucky pouted.

“Again, even if he did, you think I would just up and leave, God forbid cheat on you, with some guy I knew for maybe 6 months?” Y/N rubbed her temple.

“Well, no…” he finally came to the conclusion of.

“Then why Bucky? Why did you even feed yourself that kind of misinformation?” she sighed.

“I-I don’t know,” he answered. “I still haven’t forgiven myself of it to this day. I hate myself for why I sabotage our relationship like that.”

“Was it something I could have prevented? Did I not show you I loved you enough?” she said saddened and putting some of the guilt on her.

“Did you think that after all these years, that you didn’t give me enough?” Bucky asked, shocked and moving just an inch forward in his seat.

“I mean after some time, you start to wonder if it’s something you did wrong,” she shook her head in embarrassment.

“Can I be honest?” he asked, deciding to close the gap and sit to where their knees were touching.

“I would hope so,” she replied.

“Don’t hate me for what I’m about to say,” he warned, but cut her off from what he knew would be sassing him. “I think we were both young and weren't ready or matured enough for marriage. We thought it was the mandatory next step in our life and we rushed it.” He paused looking at her as she fiddled with a string on the pillow in her lap.

“College is the time people find themselves and new pieces of their personality and life, and we were trying to force a very important part of a relationship between two people who didn’t even really know who they were yet. Then you add in almost 2,000 miles apart too... And well... ”

“People don’t change that drastically,” Y/N said quietly.

“No, they don’t. Clearly you still have your hard head,” he noted and got a glare from her which was his intention. “And clearly I still never handle a situation well with a foggy mindset. Guess some things people don’t really grow out of,” he winked, getting a laugh out of her. “What I’m saying is, we shouldn’t be angry at ourselves for breaking it off in the end. Now, with how we handled it, yeah. That was bad.”

“Very bad,” she agreed.

“But I’ve come to believe that things happen for a reason, and life likes to play out in funny ways.” He carefully and slowly placed a hand on top of her own and silently asked her to look at him, which she did. “I have to admit, I do miss my best friend after all these years. And it’s been quite the impressive journey to see what you’ve done for yourself after all this time.”

“You’ve done some pretty impressive things too, Bucky,” she said back.

He froze. She called him Bucky.

“Y-You called me Bucky,” he said, looking back and forth between her eyes.

“Yeah, it is your name,” she chuckled awkwardly, noticing her slip up.

“Not coming from you,” he said. “At least since that night.”

“Listen, I’m not happy about how this is still a thing from our past,” she sighed, straightening. “But it’s there and there’s no changing it. It’s impossible.”

“If I could go back and change it, I would in a heartbeat. I never wanted to hurt you like that,” Bucky shook his head.

“I believe you,” she said after a minute. Bucky sat stunned by that. “But lingering on this has done nothing but hurt me. And now I’m old enough to accept the fact that, though it was a shitty thing to happen, it wasn’t truly your fault...”

Bucky froze as he could tell she was moving on... At least he hoped that’s what she was hinting at.

“So, well…” she paused, lightly squeezing his hand that encased hers. “I think I’m ready to move on from our petty teenage miscommunication.”

“Wait, really?” he was shocked and squeezed her hand without noticing.

“Hey easy muscleman,” she chided pinching his hand back. “I’m still not happy about the whole kiss thing, but I at least know your thought process behind it and realize it was a mistake.” He grinned really wide and couldn’t believe what was happening. “A really big mistake.”

“A really stupid and naive mistake. There’s no denying that,” he shook his head. “Does this mean we can be friends again?” he asked hopefully.

It took her a second as she weighed her thoughts.

It wasn’t something she could ever see herself forgiving him 100%, but she also realized that it wasn’t at all what she thought it was. Clearly, the girl had thrown herself at him and clearly he was taken advantage of as he was not in the right mindset to know what was happening.

He even admitted that he had kissed her back because he pictured Y/N in the moment. His brain was too clouded by alcohol to layout the actual mess that was happening. Still, it wasn’t an excuse, but he really was pretty innocent in the manner. That, and he accepted his wrongs.

“Yes, we can be friends again,” she nodded.

It took but two seconds before he had wrapped his arms around her and pulled her into a tight hug.

“I missed you so much, Everest,” he mumbled into her hair.

“I can tell,” she squeaked at the tight hold he had on her. “And honestly, I’ve missed you too. Even if I’ve been trying to lie to myself and say I didn’t.”

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iam93percentstardust · 4 years ago

Note

If you’re still taking prompt, could you please write something with Steve loving Tony’s big doe expressive eyes, plus him giving tony lots of slow deep kisses and maybe a comforting talk bc Tony’s anxious about something? 🥺

Sure thing! Hope you like it!

(Thank you to @therollingstonys for helping me brainstorm and, as always, this fic can be found on my ao3)

Tony is already in bed by the time Steve comes up. Their room is dark, even the windows shaded to block out most of the light coming in from the city, and it takes Steve a moment to realize that the dark mass huddled under the blankets is, in fact, his wayward husband. He sighs softly and runs his hand through his hair, thinking of the dinner he’d prepared for the two of them that had sat out for an hour before he’d finally decided Tony wasn’t going to join him. He doesn’t know why he’d expected otherwise. He knows how Tony gets the night before something big and Tony’s been withdrawing from him for the last couple of days; he should have seen this coming.

“So this is where you’ve been all day,” he says quietly. Tony shifts but doesn’t move out from under the blankets. “JARVIS, lights to 15%.”

JARVIS obligingly turns the lights up, raising them just enough that Steve doesn’t have to strain his eyes in the dark. Tony doesn’t protest the change, which is a good sign. It means that he’s stressed and anxious but he’s not actively trying to hide away.

Steve crosses the room, shedding clothes as he goes so that he’s down to only his boxers by the time he reaches the bed. He climbs up and stretches out over Tony’s body, hovering above him on his hands and knees. From his vantage point, he can see the tiny tuft of hair that’s sticking out from the blankets but that’s it.

“Hey, sweetheart,” he murmurs. “You wanna talk about it?”

Tony makes a dissenting noise and the blankets shift, like he’s shaking his head.

“Can I at least see you?”

Another dissenting noise.

“Come on,” he cajoles. “Can’t I see those beautiful brown eyes?”

“No,” comes the grumbled reply.

He bites back a smile. Wouldn’t do to look amused when Tony’s clearly so distressed. “Are you sure? I haven’t gotten to see them all day,” he asks instead, voice low and teasing, devoid of anything that Tony might take as disapproval. If Steve is right about what’s going through Tony’s head right now—and he’s pretty sure he is—he needs to be very careful about what he says.

It takes a moment but Tony eventually shifts enough that his entire head is poking out from under the blankets. He looks exhausted, worn out from stress and worry, and there are deep shadows under those brown eyes he loves so much, but he’s still the most beautiful thing Steve has ever seen.

“There they are.” He smiles fondly at his husband and leans down to kiss him. It’s meant to be a quick, reassuring thing, but as so often happens, he gets caught up in the feel of Tony’s lips against his, how he tastes, how perfect he looks in that single moment before his eyes flutter closed, and Steve finds himself drawing the kiss out into something slow and lingering.

When he eventually pulls away, Tony’s eyes are dazed and slightly out of focus. Steve can’t resist leaning back down again and brushing a kiss over Tony’s right eyebrow. Tony’s eyes slip closed again as he sighs and Steve kisses each trembling eyelid before pulling back.

“What’s got you so worked up, hmm, sweetheart?” Steve asks.

Tony wiggles out from under the sheets just a little more, enough so that his whole head and the tops of his shoulders are uncovered. “I—” he begins and then bites his lip.

Steve thinks he knows what this is all about and he thinks Tony might be feeling too seen already to admit what’s going on in that big brain of his. He rolls off of Tony, onto his side, and slides under the covers, tucking himself up against his husband’s side, who rolls over to face him. Steve shifts them so that Tony’s leg is thrown over his hip, his head tucked under Steve’s chin, into his chest. He can’t see Tony’s face like this—he’s already missing the sight—but he thinks Tony feels like he needs to hide so he can be open as he should be.

“Better?” he asks.

Tony nods, his beard scratching on Steve’s naked chest.

“So is this about tomorrow then?”

Tony nods again, voice muffled when he says, “I’m going to be a horrible father.”

“You’re not,” Steve says, even though he knows it’s a platitude that barely even makes a dent in Tony’s lack of self-worth. He just can’t stop himself. He hates hearing Tony put himself down like this.

“I am,” Tony says matter-of-factly. “I’m going to be just like Howard and I’m going to ruin this child.”

Steve bites back a sigh—Tony would take it the wrong way right now—and instead presses a kiss to Tony’s hair. “You’re not going to ruin them.”

“How could you possibly know that?”

Because for one thing, I’ll be right here to help you raise them, which puts me ahead of Maria for one, he thinks. But he knows better than to voice that opinion out loud. He doesn’t know why Tony is so insistent on idolizing his mother, who was so frequently absentee, except that she was slightly more loving than Howard had been. And to Tony, so very attention-starved as a child, even slightly was better than nothing.

“Because you’re already thinking about them,” he says. “You’re already worried about how you’re going to take care of them, planning contingencies for every little thing that could possibly go wrong. Parents like Howard don’t do that.”

Tony is quiet for long enough that Steve lifts his chin up and kisses him again, trying to soothe away Tony’s anxieties with every sweep of his tongue. Tony’s arms slide around his waist, clinging to him as he kisses back. Time slides by as they kiss, minutes, hours, who knows? All that matters is the feeling of Tony’s body against his, the taste of his tongue in his mouth.

“This could go so badly wrong,” Tony whispers when he finally pulls away.

Steve tells himself it’s pointless to mourn the loss of Tony’s kiss and points out, “Sweetheart, that would be true even if we were the best parents in the world and had successfully raised five other kids.”

“But—”

“No buts,” Steve interrupts firmly. “You’re not alone. I’m here right by your side. Pepper and Rhodey are here with you. Nat, Bucky and Clint—oh wait, maybe we shouldn’t count Clint.”

To his relief, Tony laughs, tucking his head back under Steve’s chin as he shakes. Steve smiles and brushes another kiss over Tony’s hair, holding him as close as he can. He wishes they could be like this forever, but at the same time, he’s so excited for what tomorrow will bring.

“I just don’t want to mess this up,” Tony admits once he’s stopped laughing.

“That’s what parenting is,” Steve says softly. He’s just as terrified of getting it wrong as Tony is, but he knows that there’s no one way to get it right. “We’ll make mistakes, but we’ll do it together and hey, I think between the two of us, we’ll manage to raise a pretty decent kid. If they’re even a tiny bit like you, I know we’ll have done a great job.”

“Or like you.”

“Oh no, definitely not. I pick way too many fights.”

“But for all the right reasons.”

“That’s not what Bucky says.”

“That’s because you keep dragging Bucky into your fights.”

“That sounds like a him problem.”

“It wouldn’t be if you would just pick your battles.”

“I have picked them,” Steve argues. “I’ve picked all of them.”

Tony laughs again and raises his head to peck Steve on the lips. “Okay you’re right. I hope mini-Stark doesn’t turn out anything like you.”

“I hope they’re just like you,” Steve says, smiling down at him. He’s so lucky. Not everyone gets to spend their life with the person they love more than anything, but Steve not only gets to have Tony but their child as well. “Beautiful and generous and too smart for their own good.” He can see the argument forming on Tony’s face so he quickly adds, “Did Pepper ever decide what she wanted for her present for being our surrogate?”

Tony groans. “Jimmy Choo’s entire spring line.”

Steve winces. “Sounds expensive.”

“Good thing you married a billionaire then, isn’t it?”

He shakes his head. “Good thing I married you.”

Tony’s smile is soft and sweet. “Everything changes tomorrow, doesn’t it?”

“For the better,” Steve promises.

This time, Tony just nods and says, “Yeah,” instead of arguing. Then his smile turns a little coy. “Last night we’ll have to ourselves for a very long time. We should make the most of it.”

Steve grins and takes the hint, leaning in to kiss him again.

He comes home from his run a week later to find Tony asleep on the couch, a newborn Morgan Stark-Rogers also asleep on his chest. Tony’s hand rests on her back, keeping her safe against him. Steve smiles at the sight, a wave of affection for the two most important people in his life washing over him. He pulls out his phone and snaps a picture of the two of them together, setting it as his new lockscreen. Tony will have another anxiety attack eventually and when that happens, he’ll pull this picture out and show it to him.

Tony thinks he won’t be a good parent.

Steve looks at him and knows he already is.

They’re going to be just fine.

#alle writes #alle answers #stevetony #if you like please consider reblogging #Anonymous

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littlemisspascal · 4 years ago

Text

Death and an Angel part 14.5

Death!Din x Cupid F!Reader

Summary: And it’s unbelievable, truly, that he’s found someone who makes him feel as though he’s flying and falling simultaneously.

Rating: T

Word Count: 3,701

Warnings: angst, dialogue heavy, language, angst, Violence, plot plot plot, did I mention angst? Cuz it’s here

Author Note: Texas weather is no laughing matter and never have I hated snow more than these last few days. This is definitely more of a transition segment so I wrote shorter snippets as a result, but there is some serious plot development nevertheless. The response to last chapter was so amazing I can’t thank everyone enough for all the love and support 💖💖💖

Links to Part 1 and Part 14 and Part 15

Cross-posted on AO3.

Photo Inspiration:

Ahsoka hijacks the Razor Crest as soon as Din teleports her aboard the ship. She pushes Din out of the cockpit, refusing to let him so much as glimpse the coordinates of the destination she inputs into the nav computer. The Oracle hadn’t been kidding when she said she didn’t trust him going alone to rescue his soulmate.

Bo-Katan hadn’t been phased by Ahsoka’s arrival, adapting to her presence with the same ease as a duck to water. However, Din couldn’t help noticing the moment her mask of cool indifference slipped when Ahsoka asked the reaper to stay in the cockpit with her, claiming they had important matters to discuss.

Din climbs down the ladder into the hull, recognizing that the conversation about to ensue is not one he needs to be involved in. Fingers twitching restlessly, he commits himself to checking each of the weapons in his armory, sharpening his vibroblades and loading a set of whistling birds into his vambrace. He’d made a promise to Ahsoka against killing Moff Gideon, but he’d made no vow against scarring the Seraph beyond recognition.

When Din’s finished with him, Gideon will be a warning to the rest of the galaxy what happens if you steal from Death.

He stills at the thrum of satisfaction that runs through his body at the thought of pressing Gideon’s eyeballs out with his thumbs. The darkness within him has grown stronger since he killed Hess and it’s becoming an increasingly harder challenge denying its craving for bloodshed. If not for Ahsoka’s intervention, he would have reaped Xi’an’s soul, breaking another sacred rule. He should feel grateful, but the darkness expresses annoyance instead, upset to have been denied its kill.

There is a thought that has been plaguing the back of his mind, shackled in the same corner as his other doubts and regrets. He once had iron control over his powers and emotions, but now he’s holding onto his human façade by a mere thread. So slowly he hadn’t even been aware it was happening, his darkness has usurped his morality.

He’s meant to be a neutral entity, but when he looks at his reflection in the fresher mirror all he sees is a weapon.

Obsidian orbs have replaced brown eyes. Flawless tan skin has become dissected by lines of ink that once were blue veins.

Darkness is corrupting him from the inside out, making him a slave to the power he once mastered.

And he doesn’t have a fucking clue how to stop it.

Bo-Katan joins him in the hull an hour later. She doesn’t say anything , just leans against the wall across from him, and Din continues cleaning the barrel of his amban rifle as if he doesn’t see her.

The silence isn’t tense or uncomfortable, but he feels her gaze trying to penetrate his helmet. He knows the reaper well-enough to tell there is a question on her mind, but her hesitance to voice it unsettles him. Bo-Katan rarely holds her tongue around him, preferring blunt honesty over sugarcoating, which means whatever is on her mind must be serious.

He bites back a sigh when she starts restlessly shifting in place and pauses his task. “Ahsoka told you,” he says at last.

“That Moff Gideon fucked with our lives?” Bo-Katan snorts humorlessly. “Yeah, she showed me everything.”

“I’m sorry about your sister.”

“Me too. But it’s...good not being in the dark anymore. I needed to hear the truth,” she replies stoically, but the pointless adjustment of her headband betrays her internal strife. There is a moment of pause before she looks at him again. “I heard about your promise,” she says, and it’s not really a question, except that it is.

Din’s fingers tighten around the rifle. “Did she make you swear the same one?”

“No.” Bo-Katan shakes her head. “No, she didn’t.”

He’s not surprised by the answer. He actually thinks he should have expected it, considering the universe has always held him to a stricter standard than other entities.

“Ahsoka made it clear to me that this is something between you, Gideon, and your angel alone. I cannot interfere just like you cannot kill him.”

There is bitter resignation in her tone. He recognizes it because he felt the same when he made his promise to Ahsoka. No one likes being told no when they want something. But this—knowing with absolute certainty Gideon is the one responsible for hurting their loved ones and being told you can’t do anything to avenge them? This is the kind of pain that will linger for years to come as an ache in their bones and a scar over their hearts.

It isn’t fair. But Din’s lived long enough to know the universe never intended life to be that way.

“Can I ask you a favor?” Bo-Katan asks, pulling him out of his thoughts.

He blinks at her, realizing this is the question she’d been withholding since she came down the ladder. Never has she asked him a request before. “What is it?”

“You must separate Gideon from the Darksaber,” she answers, expression one of absolute seriousness. “The Armorer warned my people if the Lightsaber was ever mishandled, it would turn against the wielder by transforming into the Darksaber. Instead of empowering you, it deceives you. Fills your head with delusions until you lose your grip on reality entirely.”

“And you want to spare Gideon’s sanity?” Din asks slowly.

“Of course not. The son of a bitch deserves to be punished for his crimes. Even if I did want to,” her lips curl into a snarl at the thought, “there’s no way of undoing the damage done to his mind. What I want is for the weapon to be returned to the Armorer. She’s the only one who can properly dispose of it.”

“Right,” he agrees quietly. Anything that comes out of the Armorer’s forge is built to last the length of eternity. He could toss the Darksaber into the center of a sun and it’d remain whole and unaffected, waiting to twist the mind of the next wielder. Nodding his head, he assures her, “I’ll take care of it, even if I have to cut off his hands.”

“Good.”

Din paces the length of the hull, each thud of his boots making contact with the metal floor blends with the low hum of the engines. Usually he’d ignore the creaks and groans of his home, but the metallic symphony is the only thing capable of drowning out the thoughts in his head urging him to storm the cockpit and retake control from Ahsoka.

“Pacing isn’t going to make us arrive any quicker,” Bo-Katan tells him, not even bothering to open her eyes as she lounges atop one of his storage crates. “Ahsoka said it will be another hour at least.”

He has a retort ready on his tongue when a voice calls out his name from somewhere beyond the Razor Crest.

“Din!”

Din freezes in place as unexpected, heart-wrenching hope slices through his chest. He knows that voice. It’s his favorite in all the galaxy.

“Death?” Bo-Katan asks, concerned by his stillness. “What’s wrong?”

He tentatively reaches out towards the bond, giving it the slightest of tugs. When he feels the distant flicker of a reaction on the other end from his angel he nearly forgets how to breathe.

“The bond,” he murmurs, voice thick with awe and relief. “I can feel it again.”

Longing fills his chest where the hollowness used to reside now that the invisible block separating them is gone. It wraps around his heart, squeezing so tightly he nearly falls to his knees. Din pulls at the bond again on impulse, possessed by the all-consuming need to see her, to have her at his side where she’ll be safe.

The bond protests the harsh treatment, too weak to physically bring them together across the vast distance separating them. He snarls a curse under his breath, hating being helpless to protect her. It’s unfair, he finds himself thinking for a second time. Unfair how it hurts more now being able to feel her presence compared to when he couldn’t at all.

A paper airplane flickers into existence on the horizon of his mind, flying straight into his hand when he reaches out for it. I can’t leave this place. Not yet, the note says. The words themselves are unsettling, but it’s the strength of the emotions she’s attached that has him reeling with shock. For one crazy, electrifying moment he thinks he’s passed onto the afterlife.

Another note arrives. I miss you, Din. I want to see you so much it hurts. And it’s unbelievable, truly, that he’s found someone who makes him feel as though he’s flying and falling simultaneously.

As he sends a message of his own, never has he been more certain that if anyone can put an end to the darkness inside of him—it’s her.

“The Moff is an expert when it comes to defensive warding,” Ahsoka says as the three of them stand looking up at a canyon wall that extends in either direction as far as their eyes can see. “But even he can’t hide from my sight.”

Din scuffs at the salt-covered ground with his boot, still coming to terms with the fact all this time Gideon’s been hiding out on Crait of all planets. As much as he wants to believe Ahsoka’s right, his powers can’t detect even the barest hint of the Seraph’s presence.

Bo-Katan’s eyebrows arch with skepticism. “You’re sure this is the right place? It’s kind of remote.”

“Perfect for building an army,” Ahsoka replies without missing a beat.

Din exchanges a look with his reaper, realizing this is the first time either of them are hearing about this.

“Gideon has an army?” he asks. “Who—”

“Mercenaries,” she interrupts, turning around to face them. Her blue eyes are distant and cloudy, entranced by a vision. “When I break the warding, all but one will meet the end of their mortal lives attempting to overpower us.”

“All but one? I don’t think so.” Bo-Katan rests her hands deliberately on her blaster pistols. “Anyone who works for Gideon is an enemy in my book.”

“Migs Mayfeld is not to be harmed.” There is steel in Ahsoka’s voice as she blinks back into the present moment.

Din nudges Bo-Katan with his arm when it looks like she wants to continue arguing. The reaper huffs a quiet breath of annoyance, but eventually jerks her head in the tiniest nod of compliance.

Ahsoka grabs her twin sabers from her belt and ignites their blue blades. She handles her weapons with deadly grace, altering her appearance from peaceful Oracle to fierce and cunning warrior. Turning back to the canyon wall, her gaze trails over the red-brown rocks only to pause and narrow at seemingly random points.

Bo-Katan tries and fails to follow her line of vision. “What are you—”

The Oracle leaps into the air with surprising agility, lashing out with her sabers against the rock. Blinding light bursts forth from the point of collision followed by a flickering glimpse of a gigantic metal door.

“—looking at,” Bo-Katan finishes quietly, watching Ahsoka swing herself higher to attack another portion of the canyon wall where the next segment of warding is hidden.

There is something undeniably satisfying about seeing the door materialize as the wardings cloaking it are destroyed. Every precise strike of Ahsoka’s sabers brings Din one step closer to reuniting with his soulmate.

As if spurred by the mere thought of her, fear ripples across the bond like a gust of icy wind, stopping his heart cold. His angel is terrified. Din reaches out as far as the bond will allow in its fragile state, trying to get her attention by pulling at it and shouting her name, but none of his attempts breach the storm of panic.

“She needs me,” he mutters to himself, stepping forward with clenched fists. His vision narrows until all he can see is the door in front of him, an obstacle that must be dealt with. “She needs my help.”

“Wait,” Bo-Katan calls out, but her voice sounds as if it’s coming from thousands of miles away. “Ahsoka isn’t finished with the warding yet!”

If he were capable of rational thought in that moment, he would have heeded her warning. As it is, he summons his power into the palm of his hand, the darkness inside of him crowing in wicked delight. He winds his arm back, preparing to slam his fist against the door, only for a whipcord to wrap around his wrist with an audible zip.

He’s pulled backwards onto the ground, breath knocked from his lungs as he lands with a heavy thud. Bo-Katan appears not a second later and pins him in place by straddling his waist. The darkness is demanding he push her aside, knowing with absolute certainty the reaper is no match against him, and it takes all his strength to wrestle the urge under control.

“Are you out of your fucking mind?” She glares at him, eyes resembling green flames eager to incinerate him.

“I—” he rasps, breathing heavily. His hand starts trembling, a burning itch under his skin. “I can feel her fear. She needs me.”

Bo-Katan blows out a long, frustrated breath. “Well, shit.” She jostles him then, forcing his head to momentarily clear as his helmet smacks the ground. “Look, soulmates are soulmates for a reason, right? I heard it’s like being two halves of the same whole. So if your soulmate is anything like you, she’s not going to give up without a fight. You have to trust she can take care of herself right now. That she’ll be fine.”

Din bristles. Trust is not the issue here. There is no one he trusts more than his angel—not Bo-Katan, not Ahsoka, not even Kuiil. The issue is he’s being asked to deny the instinct to shield her from danger which is woven into every cell of his being.

“She’ll be fine.” The words come out sounding sharp around the edges, cutting his tongue like shrapnel. “Everything will be fine.”

Bo-Katan disconnects the whipcord and rises to full height, apparently satisfied by his agreement. Din pushes himself onto his feet at a slower pace, his hand still shaking as if it's electric. He looks down at it, noticing for the first time the flesh is gone, replaced entirely by shadow. His expression tightens as he observes the change, realizing the black tendrils are slowly creeping up towards his wrist.

An alarm rings out, reverberating off the canyon walls like an explosion. Din’s gaze snaps up just as Ahsoka lands on the ground in a defensive crouch. Now that it's been fully unveiled, the door bears a striking resemblance to ones he’s seen at military fortresses across the galaxy, ridiculously massive to intimidate enemies and impenetrable from outside attacks. It makes sense, he thinks with a scoff, someone as power-hungry as Gideon claiming an abandoned base as their lair. Without the wardings, Din is able to detect the massive number of souls gathering on the other side, resembling vermin crawling over one another in their haste to arm themselves.

He searches for his angel’s soul, even just a glimpse of her bright light, only for his powers to instead encounter a massive cloud of dark, negatively-charged energy within a distant corner of the underground tunnel system. It fills an entire room, prohibiting him from sensing if anyone is inside. There is something strangely familiar about the energy, like he’s encountered its essence before, but he can’t recall the specifics of when or where.

“It’s time.”

Ahsoka’s voice reels his focus back to his physical surroundings. He notices the way her grip on her sabers tightens in anticipation and out of the corner of his eye Bo-Katan withdraws her blasters from their holsters.

The bottom of the door begins to raise with an earsplitting groan, but the mercenaries only wait the minimum amount of time it takes to pass under without hitting their heads to start charging forward.

Every mortal has a beginning and an end just like everything else in the galaxy. These mercenaries are no exceptions, having long sealed their fates when they agreed to accept Gideon’s payment. So when Din’s shadowy hand phases through a man’s chest and tears his heart out of its cavity, staining the white salt under their feet crimson as blood bursts from the vacant hole, Din tells himself he’s simply fulfilling destiny.

He repeats it when he discharges an assault of whistling birds, each one puncturing the throats of each target they encounter with a shrill warcry. And also when he rips a devaronian’s horn out of his head, a fragment of skull and bits of brain matter still gruesomely attached.

Again and again, with each permanently silenced voice and every shattered fragile bone, destiny is fulfilled.

Din would be lying if he said he’s never wondered what it would be like to die. To pass on from this world into a new realm for him to explore. He’s imagined the idyllic afterlife mortals have written poems and novels about, describing it as a blissful safe haven where sorrow and tragedy have no definition because they do not exist. He’s familiar with their opinions of damnation’s appearance, too, as an infernal place of fire and brimstone and screaming.

They were wrong about that.

Damnation is not a distant hell. It is found in an underground lair on Crait.

Instead of flames and sulfur, a Cupid’s blood is split and a soulmate bond is snapped in half.

Instead of screaming, a madman laughs.

“I’ve waited so long for this moment,” Gideon says through his chuckles, hauling himself onto his feet. His voice is an abrasive rasp, as if he’s shredded his vocal cords by screaming. “I’ve had to be patient, wait to find your weakness so I could catch your attention. It’s a shame, really, she had to be the one you fell for. She was quite the little spitfire.”

Din stares at his soulmate’s motionless body, frozen in place. Please, he pulls at his severed half of the bond, resolutely ignoring how cold it feels. Open your eyes, angel. Don’t leave me. Please.

There is no response. Just heartbreaking silence.

“I sense your anger, your hurt, and grief. Those are mortal emotions.” The Seraph grimaces in disgust, then lets out a low hiss when he agitates the wounds on his face. “By living amongst their kind you’ve forgotten your true potential. You are not their equal, Death. You are their superior. Immortals are meant to be better than them. To rule over every aspect of their pitiful lives.”

“I don’t want to rule anyone,” Din says, dragging his eyes away from his angel to glare at Gideon. Both his hands begin to shake as his mind plunges into a gaping abyss of remorse and despair. “I just want a life with her.”

“Even dead, she continues to blind you.”

Din snarls viciously in response. His control is pushed closer to the brink, holding on by mere fingertips, and darkness engulfs the entire room as a result.

The glow of the Darksaber persists, reflecting off his beskar and Gideon’s armor. It reminds him of moonlight, and he thinks for all that Bo-Katan warned him about the weapon’s sinful qualities, she did not mention its beauty. Even Ahsoka’s vision had failed to truly capture its radiance, just as a holovid can never compete with a face-to-face conversation.

His powers are drawn to the Darksaber. The energy it emits matches the one encountered earlier when searching the tunnels for his angel’s aura. This close, there is no ignoring its familiarity, not when his brain feels seconds away from exploding.

“I used to believe love conquers all,” Gideon prattles on, seemingly oblivious to Din’s torment. “I chose it as the Cupid motto because I thought there was nothing mortals cared more about than the health and happiness of their loved ones. Only after our fateful encounter did the Lightsaber reveal to me the truth.”

Lightsaber? Din’s head jerks up to stare at him, biting back a wince when the throbbing in the back of his mind intensifies at the movement. Does Gideon not realize the weapon has transformed?

By connecting Ahsoka’s claim that Gideon didn’t fully understand the consequence of corrupting the Lightsaber with Bo-Katan’s explanation that the Darksaber deceives its wielder, the answer is an obvious one: he doesn’t.

Gideon mistakes Din’s confusion for interest and his lips slowly curl into a smile. “Mors aeterna. It means—”

“Death is eternal.” The translation slips unbiddenly from Din’s lips before he even realizes his mouth has opened.

“There is no one more feared or respected than you. But for what reason? What have you done to earn your reputation?” Gideon demands, spit flying as his anger flares. “You are no more than the universe’s favorite puppet. Mindlessly obedient to its every demand.”

Hearing the truth always hurts, but hearing it from Gideon is especially torturous. Din’s creed to the universe has dictated his actions the entirety of his existence. He never fought against its orders, never thought of his own desires as more important than what it wanted.

Until he matched with his soulmate. She changed his priorities and shifted the center of his entire world by revealing to him even Death could experience love.

There had been no hesitation when he broke his creed for her.

And he doesn’t hesitate breaking Ahsoka’s promise now.

“I just murdered your soulmate right in front of you and you do nothing. Did you ever love her at all?”

“I do.”

Din summons every trace of power and darkness he possesses and combines them together within his core—a volatile, pulsating mass of pure chaos. His beskar armor starts to crack and chip away, unable to withstand the increasing pressure.

He thinks of his angel’s smiling face, the sound of her laughter, how bright her soul shines, and he thinks all those things are gone now. Not even a chance to say goodbye.

“More than anything.”

And Death lets go.

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