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ravensliterature · 2 years

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Mission Failed Successfully?

A/N: Hehe I posted again

pairing: Obi-Wan Kenobi x Reader

warnings: Violence, description of wound

w/c: 2743

Prompt: You and Obi-Wan go on a mission but things don’t really go according to plan. Will you make it out in one piece?

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You did not want to go on this mission with Obi-Wan. It wasn't that you didn't like him, you actually did a lot. It could even be said that you liked your fellow Jedi too much to the point of concern. You had no idea if he felt the same way and you never were going to ask. You knew it was wrong and were content with his company.

The mission was supposed to be simple enough. There were slavers Tatooine who were raiding villages and taking the villagers as slaves and captives. They were also apparently forced senstive according to some reports. Your job was to stop their activities and free the captives.

Currently, you were on your ship sailing to Tatooine. The ship was on autopilot as you and Obi-Wan talked in the cockpit.

"So what are you thinking about Y/N?" Obi asked, breaking the silence.

"Oh um nothing really," you replied awkwardly. Your face heating up. Damn Obi for being perceptive.

Obi looked at you skeptically and raised his eyebrows. "I think I know better."

Your cheeks grew hotter and you couldn't say anything else before Obi turned to look ahead again. Your hands clenched around your knees and your lips pursed together in annoyance and embarrassment. Obi would find out anyway since it was impossible to hide something from Obi. You hated when he did this. He would always figure out everything so it's better not to bother trying to keep secrets.

"You've been spacing out a lot lately, are you nervous about the mission?" He questioned. His eyes were still forward on the ship.

"No," you lied. Well, you weren't sure exactly what to say. Maybe you should tell him the truth? No that wouldn't make sense either, why lie now? You sighed defeatedly. "Fine fine," you groaned, looking down in defeat. "I guess my heart is beating really fast because of anxiety or something." That sounded believable enough to Obi.

"Do you have any problems you need help with, Y/N?" He asked, still not turning to look at you. You shook your head.

"No, but can we talk about something else?" You asked, your voice soft and barely above a whisper.

He glanced at you before returning his attention forward to the stars. "Sure, just don't feel pressured to speak about anything, Y/N." He assured. Your mouth slightly parted before you snapped it shut again. "What do you want to talk about?" He continued. He wanted to change the topic so he could get to know you more.

"Uh well," you started. "Have you ever seen a holofilm called Love Actually?" You asked.

Obi laughed a little before replying. "Actually yes I have." This caused you to turn to look at him in surprise.

A few weeks ago during one of the missions, there was an incident in a cantina on Tatooine where a gang was fighting over the women in the bar. The weird thing is that he would not stop talking about an old holofilm called Love Actually. You an Obi-Wan after that mission vowed that you both needed to watch this film.

"What did you think?"

" You asked. Obi shrugged before answering you.

"It's pretty good," he answered honestly.

"Really?" You exclaimed in disbelief. "I never pegged you as a Jedi interested in romance films!"

"They're just a genre. Besides, I'm quite fond of them." He explained while grinning. His smile seemed contagious and you found yourself smiling too. "There is something about them... They just make you wonder..."

He trailed off before shaking his head, dismissing his musings and wants.

"Wonder what?" You pressed curiously.

"Nothing important, Y/N." He answered shortly.

"You're such a bad liar." You retorted playfully. Obi chuckled softly under his breath, a small smirk making its way onto his lips.

"You always can tell." He stated before returning back to gazing at the stars. The silence lingered between the two of you and neither of you dared to break it. Eventually, Obi broke the silence by saying, "So you haven't watched it yet have you?"

You chuckled. "Not yet," you confessed. "But now I have to with your glowing review!" You joked. Obi glared playfully at you but eventually gave in a smile, laughing along with you. "Well if you're really that curious, we should watch it together sometime." You said matter of factly.

"Okay," Obi answered without hesitation.

You both joked and laughed discussing various movies that you decided you need to watch together. You ended up telling him all about your favorite movies and how you thought they were better than others. In exchange, he told you all about movies like Titanic which he enjoyed greatly. As usual, your conversation quickly drifted away from the film and towards each other.

"Can I ask you something?" You questioned hesitantly. You had a feeling that you'll regret asking, but this was Obi so you probably had to continue anyways.

"Hmm?" Obi hummed inquisitively, glancing up at you.

"Do you ever wonder about what life would be like if you weren't a Jedi? " You questioned quietly.

Obi looked surprised.

"Like what would your job be? Where would you live? Who would you be with?"

" You asked, knowing full well the answer. But you felt like you needed to hear him say it anyways.

"Y/N…"

Your breath caught in your throat when Obi looked at you, his eyes searching for something you did not know. You waited patiently, hoping for a response.

"…I would have been very happy with someone like you." He answered quietly. It seemed like he was struggling to say it.

"Someone like me?" You repeated, your heart skipping a beat. Did you read him wrong?

"Yes. Someone… special."

His eyes searched yours for a sign of uncertainty or doubt. Finding none, he continued speaking. "For years you inspired me to do more as a Jedi. You helped to give me purpose." His words warmed your heart. Even though you knew he meant well, you still didn't feel like he fully realized the extent of his feelings toward you. "You showed me how wonderful living could be." He added before leaning in closer to you.

You closed your eyes and held your breath, unsure whether or not you should respond.

"But... We are Jedi." You were finally forced out.

You opened your eyes and saw Obi staring right at you, waiting for you to continue.

"We fight evil, we save people. We are nothing more than a soldier." You concluded. A tear slipped down your cheek as a single word echoed in your mind.

Silence loomed once again in the cockpit until you saw Tatooine in your sight.

"This is it," you mumbled to yourself.

---

You and Obi-Wan were on the perimeter of the town, seeing where your best advantage is. The slavers had all their captives huddle together guns pointing to their heads. They were also force sensitive so that was nice for you both. You had to be extra cautious.

Obi took out his lightsaber, holding it against his palm as he approached a group of the men with his head tilted slightly upward. You followed behind closely, staying in the shadows and ready to attack when necessary.

Apparently, Obi-Wan was not as stealthy because when they saw him they immediately started firing. Obi ducked out of the way to avoid being hit by the bullets. He grabbed the captive closest to him, pulling them out of harm's way with him to safety. You went to attack the next target but Obi shot you a look, signaling you to stay put.

You stood where you were but didn't move. You watched as Obi ran up to another group of the slavers and fought them with ease. His movements looked natural. You wondered what kind of training he received to be this graceful.

As you observed the battle going on, you heard a loud scream coming from one of the captives, causing you to snap out of your observation.

You jumped forward, using your force push to jump over the bodies of the fallen slavers who tried to shoot you. Once you landed on the ground you scanned the area, desperately looking for the victim you came here for.

When you saw her lying unconscious on the ground you instantly rushed over to her side. She was clearly injured judging by the large bleeding gash across her forehead and the dried blood caked across her face. You checked her pulse and breathing, relieved to find that they were both stable although weak.

You crouched beside her body as you reached into your belt pocket for some bandages and disinfectant. You used the disinfectant on the wound first and then proceeded to wrap some medical tape around her arms to protect them from further damage. She should be fine for now.

You quickly looked around to survey the area and saw that there were about five slavers left and that they were surrounding Obi-Wan.

You gritted your teeth and pulled out your lightsaber, trying to save Obi-Wan from the remaining slavers. You charged at one and slashed him across his abdomen, earning you a cry of pain from the man. When he fell to the ground, the rest of the men started shooting at you.

You dodged every bullet that flew by and slashed and cut at whoever was nearest to you.

That was until you felt a main in your abdomen. With a yell of pain, you fell to the ground with your saber clutched in your hand. Before anyone else got close to you, you ignited your blade and cut through the attacker.

Obi-Wan rushed to your side and tried to support you but your feet were beginning to fail to keep you up. You grunted loudly as you tried to stand upright once again. Your breathing was heavy, and beads of sweat began forming on your brow.

"Y/N..." Obi whispered worriedly. You smiled at your friend despite your current condition.

"Don't worry; I've fine." You reassured him.

"Well, you don't look fine," Obi stated while examining your injury. He glanced at one of his fallen enemies and kicked him harshly in the stomach. After kicking him once again for good measure, he turned his attention back to you. "Let's get you back to the ship. Can you stay conscious for me?"

You nodded. He picked you up bridal style with little effort and carried you towards the ship. He sat down on one of the medical tables in the small medical room. You winced slightly when Obi touched the gash on your abdomen, causing you to wince even more. The laser caused the wound to cauterize but it was deep. Very deep.

"I'm calling for the medic bot, okay?" He said while caressing your cheek gently with his thumb. Your gaze flickered over to him, a gentle smile tugging at the corner of your lips.

"Yeah." You breathed. He placed a tender kiss on your forehead.

"You remember the movie Love Actually?" You asked but your voice was rough.

He chuckled lightly as he recalled the holofilm. "Of course I do."

You grinned, your eyes crinkling at the edges, and his heart melted at that moment.

"Promise me that we will watch it. If not now, somewhere else." You requested. He smiled softly.

"If that is your wish then I'll grant it." He hated saying stuff like that. You were going to be fine. You couldn't die. He wouldn't let you. There was no way. Not after everything that happened.

Your eyelids began to start to feel heavy. You leaned against him with a sigh of relief. You wanted to tell him that you loved him. That you always will love him. To tell him that you loved him. But you weren't sure if you were strong enough to make that statement yet. Right now you just wanted to sleep.

"Hey, you gotta keep those eyes open for me, Y/N," Obi spoke softly, a sad smile plastered onto his face. Your heart swelled at his words as he brushed his thumbs over your cheeks comfortingly. "Please."

The last thing you remembered before you passed out was the sound of Obi's soft voice telling you to hold on.

---

It was definitely too bright. You groaned loudly when you awoke to the blinding light above you. Everything hurt. Your whole body ached. And even more, your abdomen hurt. The only thought that came to mind was that the last thing you remembered was getting shot and then passing out. You opened your eyes slowly and blinked a few times. The brightness of the lights made you grimace and squeeze your eyes shut again.

Suddenly you heard voices, muffled and unfamiliar. Opening your eyes again, you squinted to see if the light would help but you still could barely see anything due to how blurry it was.

"How is she?" A familiar voice asked.

"She'll be fine, Obi-Wan. She just needs some rest."

"Fine? She's been unconscious for three days!"

"Again, she just needs rest. I'll check on her again to see if her vitals change but she will recover completely."

The door could be heard opening with swift footsteps slowly becoming further and further away. You thought that they had both left until some of the footsteps appeared to be coming closer to you.

"Y/N?"

A warm touch rested on top of your hand. You blinked once to try and focus on your vision. As soon as your eyes were able to focus, you saw two blue orbs staring back at you.

"Obi." You choked out, reaching up to cup his face. You pulled him down to lean your foreheads against each other.

You closed your eyes, taking a shuddering breath. You missed his warmth.

"Are you alright?" His voice was laced with concern and his eyes searched yours intensely.

"I'm...fine...Just..." You trailed off, clearing your throat. You opened your mouth to speak again but paused, he was very close. You closed your eyes again, leaning your forehead against his and enjoying his presence. You inhaled his intoxicating scent deeply, trying to memorize every detail.

You slowly lifted your head and gave him a sweet smile. "Thank you. For saving my life. I...wasn't sure that I was going make it..."

His expression softened at your words. "You're safe now."

You shook your head and sighed tiredly. "Obi-Wan, I was so scared... I need to tell you something..."

His eyebrows furrowed together in confusion. "Y/N, Tell me what?"

You began to glance at his lips.

"Obi..." You trailed off before placing your fingers lightly on his jawline, closing the gap between you, and pressed your lips to his softly.

You knew exactly what your decision meant. You were hoping that he would return your feelings.

However, Obi wasn't moving at all as he continued to stare at you. He had frozen completely in place as he watched your lips on his. This didn't mean that he didn't want this, he did. It was just that he was shocked.

"Y/N, you do know what this means. We are Jedi. If we do this..." He trailed off as he swallowed nervously.

You nodded slowly, knowing exactly where he was going with this.

"I want to. I want to live I life that I know when I die, I can say it was worth it." You said, gazing intently into his eyes.

Obi gazed down at you, studying your beautiful features closely. He noticed that your pupils were dilated and your skin was glowing faintly with health and strength that he was scared wouldn't come back.

"If we get found out, we'll have to leave the order." He stated firmly.

"For you, it is a risk I am willing to take." You replied. His face lit up at your words and he leaned down to place a small kiss on your forehead. You felt the tingle in your chest that accompanied the feeling.

"Then I shall follow your lead, Y/N. Together we shall bring balance to the Force."

You leaned up to capture his lips again, savoring the taste of him. He reciprocated immediately as the kiss deepened.

Eventually, you broke apart, resting your hands on his shoulders as he cupped your face with his hands.

"What now?" You questioned.

"Now...let's go home."

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#star wars #star wars the clone wars #death star #obi wan #obiwan kenobi #obi wan kenobi #obi wan x reader #obi wan x y/n #obi wan x you #obi wan kenobi x reader #obi wan kenobi x you #obi wan kenobi x y/n #star wars imagine #star wars one shot #obi wan kenobi imagine #obi wan kenobi one shot

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juney-blues · 9 months

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just finished reading fist of the north star, and now i know why most adaptions pretend the series ends after raoh's defeated

because it probably should have!

i enjoyed the celestial emperor and land of asura stuff a bit but, the series was really starting to retread old ground

kaioh just feels like "what if raoh was even eviler and stronger!!!!" he's literally raoh's secret older brother who was never mentioned ever for some reason

retconning secret family members seems to be how a lot of the series handles plot twists now that i think about it lmao

Lin was actually the secret twin of the celestial empress!!!! this never comes up again and effects nothing.

Kenshiro had a secret older brother who vowed to one day teach him that the secret to hokuto shinken is Respecting Women!!!!

hell even ein (who's whole deal is honestly a retread of rei now that i think about it) had a whole thing where he's introduced talking about how he does all this bounty hunting for a special lady in his life ;) ;) an then PLOT TWIST!!! HE DOESN'T MEAN HIS GIRLFRIEND HE MEANS HIS DAUGHTER!!! (which is a funny bit lmao)

god the series really falls apart with the final story arc though, i think the real reason most fist of the north star stuff never cover anything after the timeskip is because Kenshiro defeating Raoh and finally putting an end to the hokuto shinken succession crisis that was the undercurrent to basically everything after the first arc, and then riding off into the sunset with Yuria, was a WAY more satisfying ending than whatever the fuck was going on with the actual ending

Bat uses heretofore unmentioned Hokuto Shinken powers to erase Lin's memories because everyone in the god damn series thinks that now that kenshiro's wife is dead he needs to shack up with this one girl he met when she was like 9 for some reason, and then Kenshiro gets,, Struck by lightning????? and also loses his memory??????

so we've got a double amnesia plot going on and it's, just,

so fucking stupid

and then it tries to give Bat this whole subtext to his whole character about how he always looked up to kenshiro like he was an older brother, and it retcons in scenes that never happened to try and deepen that

and like i love Bat, he was a fun goofy comic relief character in the anime

but in the manga he's just kinda there,,,?

he lends SOME comic relief but aside from the one arc with jackal he's just kinda there in the background, failing to make much of an impression and just kinda fading into obscurity (same kinda deal with Lin) getting ditched by the story for more serious characters, only showing up for the fight against raoh because kenshiro wants someone to bear witness.

and then after the timeskip he does the whole hokuto army thing with Lin, he cries over Ein (which was a fun moment i'll admit)

and then the story ditches him as soon as the asura arc comes around, and then he just kinda shows up at the end of that to take lin away so ken doesn't have to deal with that weird contrived "pressure point that makes you fall in love with the first person you see" bullshit.

So we've got this comic relief character who for the latter half of the series has repeatedly threatened to become relevant and then backed off, which the series is trying to get me invested in during the 11th hour,

and this is all for, Lin's (clearly unrequited, like good lord) crush on Kenshiro,

a weird one sided nothing relationship that the series keeps trying to push as a thing that should happen, because the series is bad at using its female characters

and this is what it chooses to spend its final moments on???

and then the story just repeats the end of the asura arc and goes "no bat and lin should be together for some reason, gotta pair those spares"

throws in a whole flashback full of stuff that just straight up wasn't in the manga

i think the top left moment is actually something from the anime lmao (don't quote me on that i have memory issues)

so yeah the final arc is just, retconning a whole bunch of shit, trying to shovel in as much development as possible for these characters in the last fleeting moment of the series as possible, because they were the first 2 major characters we were introduced to i guess

then we get this whole fakeout death to close it out

but woooh kenshiro fixed his dying body by, using pressure points, i guess, so that whole death scene was just kinda for nothing, just jerking your chain a bit

just god it's so fucking stupid

it's sooo stupid

i'm with everyone else i wish things ended here

#juney.txt #juney.png #fotns

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moonlight-sonata99 · 2 years

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The dad batch + reader handling omegas growing pains

mentions of: family fights,mood swings periods. Moody older omega!

Raising its child is an experience in itself,however no one is prepared when said children start having mood swings…

A/n: Written on something i've been thinking for a bit, not proofread so please don't mind misspellings!enjoy~

Hunter

I think he would have sought out advice from cut on children,so he knew this was coming

But damN he didn't think it would have been to this extent

It all started when the bad was on a mission and hunter told omega to stay behind for a bit

…which she did not take lightly.

It resulted in a big fight and omega stomped off to the marauder and hasn't been seen.

Did he do something wrong?What else could have said?he just thinks he was in the wrong;;

Reader placed a hand on his shoulder and reassures hunter that omega will come around.explaining that omegas at that stage where her body is changing

And boy is she not used to it.

No one is

Even after hunters, still a bit worried as the batch head off to the ship,his worries go away when reader holds his hand and they walk together.

While the batch enters the ship hunter stays behind

He takes a deep breath before stepping into the marauder

“Hunter..it's okay. Im sure once were inside it'll be normal”

To which hunter gives the reader a small smirk

“I mean..how it always is' ' reader chuckles.``you can't beat yourself over this.``reader turns to the entryway and enters the marauder and turns back to look at the hunter.

“You ready, Sergeant?”

Echo

Confused asf but concerned uncle

Mans tries to make omega feel better

In his own way that is.

However the way he goes about this is, well it's very echo.

He doesn't understand why omega is like this but he'll at least try to

First he’ll figure out what's really bothering her

Which means that echo will just observe to see what ticks her off

But this just makes things more confusing to him because omega just seems to react to different things at different times.

“Echo?” the readers voice interrupts his thoughts as he raises his head to look at you

“Ah,where have you been?” he asks as you sit down in the pilot seat next to him

“I was talking to omega,” reader replies as they look at view ahead of them,

Echo just stares at reader curious asf

“Just growing pain talks” The reader looks at echo smiling and as echo sits back on the seat as his shoulders relax

“Ohh…”

“So..you don't have to keep worrying”

“wha- i was-” he looks at reader frantically

“Mhm…sure” the reader pats his hand as they lay against the seat and close their eyes.

“Maybe just a little bit…” echo mumbled

Tech

Ngl i dont think mans would care, leaving the situation to hunter

Buttttt that being said…if it wasn't the reader telling omega what's going on with her.

It would be tech.

I don't even think he would be embarrassed telling her this cause…Is it natural?

Yup, especially period talks. But seeing as the reader is here.

I kinda imagine something like this

“Your body is changing omega. It's nothing to be embarrassed about, It's just the way women's bodies are” Tech says pushing up his glasses while working on a trinket with reader besides him

“I…couldn't have said it better myself” Reader mutters while handing tech a tool.

“But yes,what tech says your body changes as you get older. You may experience things that feel weird or once a day start bleeding out of nowhere .But it's all part of the process” Reader smiles at omega who sits on a crate looking at the pair.

“I think i get it…It's still kind of..”

“Scary?”

“Yea..” omega mumbles

Walking over to omega reader wraps their arm around her shoulder

“Don't worry,we’ll be here to help you every step of the way” reader assures her

“ I do believe I had a helper here?” (moment ruiner XD)

Wrecker

Nah mans is confused to the MAX

But…wrecker being wrecker think he would spoil her (Using hunters credits) buying things to make her feel better

Or just doing things that generally make her feel better.

Such as..

“Wrecker i- i dont think omega needed this much pillows and stuffed toys..” Reader mumbles as and they walked back to the marauder with both of their hands filled with stuffed animals and boxes of treats

“Nah,I'm sure once omega will feel better again!” wrecker exclaims with a smile

“If you really say so…not sure the gang will agree with this though” reader ponders looking at the stuffed animals and wrecker chuckles

“They’ll just have to deal with it!Let's hurry up! I wanna give this to her as soon as we can!” he starts picking up his pace

“Alright but- wrecker be honest”

“Huh?”

“Are these all really for omega?”

Crosshair

None for crosshair we all know he would fight omega to the death if she fought with him

enjoy the gif i pick out XD

#tbb hunter x reader #tbb hunter #tbb echo #tbb echo x reader #tbb wrecker #tbb wrecker x reader #tbb tech #tbb crosshair #tbb tech x reader #tbb omega #the bad batch #starwars #the bad batch x reader #the bad batch x you

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carriagelamp · 10 months

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My internet died for about half a week this month, so I had a really peaceful few days where I had an enforced excuse to do nothing but relax and read when I got home from work. It was incredibly zen and I really sank into my books that week.

The Call of the Wild

A classic novel that I’ve always meant to read. I was sick and headachy this month and decided that this was the perfect sort of relaxing, narratively rich book to listen to. I really enjoyed it, would recommend. It follows a dog named Buck who’s snatched from his home in southern California and is shipped off to work as a sled dog in the Yukon, where a need for strong dogs to help transport goods over the snow and ice makes them very valuable. Buck has to learn how to survive in this harsh environment as everything from the weather, his fellows dogs, and his human masters seem to fight against him.

A Complicated Love Story Set In Space // How To Bite Your Neighbour and Win A Wager

Putting these two together because my experience with them was pretty similar. For both I was intrigued by the title, got them from the library on a whim, and didn’t really mesh with either. I didn’t really get far enough in either to give much of a review, they just didn’t vibe. A Complicated Love Story Set In Space set up a scenario that didn’t really interest me — not surprising, I’m picky about my scifi — and How To Bite Your Neighbour and Win A Wager just had an… odd writing style to it. It very much feels like it’s main goal is to be a kinda horny about vampires which, if that’s what you want, all the power to you, but it’s wasn't doing it for me. I had to suspend way too much disbelief for the scenario to function.

Indiana Jones and the Cup of the Vampire // Indiana Jones and the Curse of Horror Island

A pair of choose your own adventure books I found at a used book sale. I picked them up out of sheer amusement, and they were basically what I expected and paid for: cheesy 1980s adventure stories with Indiana Jones as a nominal protagonist. They were both varying degrees of improbable, ridiculous, and racist so YMMV but they were fun to play with while I was down and out on the internet front.

The Kootenay Kidnapper

Eric Wilson is a classic Canadian author who writes children’s mystery/thriller novels. I’ve never read him before and decided to remedy that. At this point I choose to withhold judgement until I read another… I’m not sure how I felt about The Kootenay Kidnapper. It had some nice descriptive language, successfully raised the tension from time to time and made me really try to piece together who the villain was, but then also had some strange dead zones as well. The whole thing read a bit like a 1990s stranger danger PSA which was also… weirdly nostalgic? But also just weird. Would try another.

Grandmaster of Demonic Cultivation comic v3

I continue to be a MDZS simp, this is not news.

The Radium Girls

I don’t read much nonfiction, but this book was so narrative in its writing that I seriously couldn’t put it down. Kate Moore took a historical event (the girls that were paid to paint watch dials with radium paint in the early 1900s) that had been written about in scientific and legal styles, and instead retells it with a primary focus on the girls themselves. You follow a variety of real life women over the decades and learn about the all the machinations that went into them being horrifically poisoned by radium, and how that changed the very foundation of American workplace safety. Super engaging, unspeakably appalling.

Scott Pilgrim v1/2

My brother and I started watching Scott Pilgrim Takes Off on Netflix and… wow, it is not what either of us was expecting but we are loving it. We’ve both been big Scott Pilgrim fans since the naughts. Since I haven’t reread the series in years I decided I should pick it up to help notice the differences between the original series and this new show — I have the big, coloured omnibus version, so I reread the first collection of stories which amounts to volume 1 and 2 of the original.

Scott Pilgrim is one of those comics that if you’ve somehow never read then you really need to, it’s one of my all-time favourites. It’s a story about Scott Pilgrim, a young adult who’s awkwardly trying to figure himself out, combining a coming-of-age slice-of-life with magical realism. The mysterious girl he meets, Ramona Flowers, can travel a subspace highway through Scott’s dreams — of course, don’t they teach Canadians how to do that? Huh, maybe it’s an American thing. Scott is known to be the best fighter in the province and when he defeats an enemy they explode into a pile of coins. One of the Evil Exes has Vegan Powers, and another can summon demonic back up dancers. This story just does whatever the fuck it likes and I adore it for that.

Heaven Official's Blessing v3/4

I continue to be TGCF simp, this is not— seriously, the series continues to be excellent and I only get more and more invested in not just Xie Lian and Hua Cheng, but also in the side characters that are introduced. I was thrilled to have Shi Qingxuan become a bigger player in book 4, and really liked the whole plot with the Venerable of Empty Words and Black Water. Please, someone, help this guy…

The Wind in the Willows

Another classic I had never read that I decided to pick up. It was excellent, I can see why it’s stayed so beloved over the years. Though I love a good cute-animals-in-lil-clothes-living-cute-lil-lives story, so I was an easy sell. It was much more tame than the likes of Redwall, but had a bit more going on than the likes of Brambly Hedge — it keeps you very engaged, but never raises the stakes so high that it stops feeling light and comforting. It is essentially a collection of stories that follow Mole and Rat, a pair of friends that live together on the river, through the seasons and the various misadventures they and their friends go on.

The Woman They Could Not Silence

Since I liked The Radium Girls I decided to pick up another one of Kate Moore’s books. This one follows a woman who was intentionally committed to an insane asylum by her husband, purely because she was intelligent and outspoken, refusing to be cowed to his opinions or beliefs. This story details her time in the insane asylum, the abuses that the patients suffered, and how she came to fight the laws that allowed for such abuses to be perpetuated in the first place. A fascinating read about a historical figure I had never heard about before.

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usaigi · 2 years

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Chapter 2 - Deal With The Devil

Read on Ao3 | ⇜previous chapter | next chapter⇝

Summary (T) Earth 65 AU where Elektra is Daredevil and was hell-bent on killing her ex Matt Murd(er)ock but she’s in therapy now and is channeling her energy into helping Spider-Women defeat him instead. Semi-comics/Marvel movies crossover. Elektra and Matt are mostly based on the Netflix version and Gwen is based on Into the Spiderverse.

“Can I ask why Murdock specifically? I know he’s related to Fisk but I thought you took care of Fisk. And surely there are other people high up in the crime syndicate pyramid scheme.”

“Cut off the head another takes its place. Murdock is just picking up where Fisk left off.”

“So ah. Ok this is going to sound like super ableist but Murdock is blind, right? I totally get how he can still be a leader of the mob with like accommodation and stuff but. Can’t we just,” Gwen punches the air a couple of times.

Gwen never had the fortune of fighting Fisk herself but hearing from her dad, that man is built like an unmovable wall. Even if he hadn’t been legally untouchable for the last decade until Daredevil swopped in, he’s strength was borderline superhuman. And apparently, he has the temper of a child, with tantrums loud enough to flip cars. And they say girls are emotional.

So what exactly is Elektra so concerned about? Murdock is just a dude. Kinda look like a Chad but in a rich kid I-went-to-Columbia-and-played-polo way. Probably owns a pair of pastel-colored shorts.

“You’ve never fought him?” Elektra asks, eyes squinting slightly.

“No? I don’t make it a habit in fighting people with disabilities,” Gwen says, causing Elektra to break out into a wry laugh, turning away to hide her face from Gwen. Guess she finds ableism funny. Canceled.

“The chemicals that blinded him also enhanced his remaining sense, his earring, smell, touch, and taste. They all like work together to create a sort of radar. You know, like the blind girl from Avatar. Combine that with his years of martial arts training with the Hand, he’s a deadly opponent.”

“The what?”

“The Hand. Yeah I know, stupid name. Cults always have dumb names,” heh true. What kind of dumb name is Scientology? What’s scientific about paying a buttload of money to reach enlightenment? Just smoke a blunt and look at the city lights like everyone else. “We’re called the Chaste so it’s not like it’s any better,”

“Who is we?” Gwen asks, tilting her head ever so slightly. Wait, is Elektra also in a cult?

“You want a role call or what?” Elektra says dryly.

“I mean, I’d like to know who’s on my team. Like what if someone joins us and I think they’re with Murdock and I accidentally punch them,” Gwen asks.

“Then you apologize..?”

“Well yeah but–”

“You don’t have to worry about that now, tonight's thing is just us.” Tonight? Don’t worry about it? Gwen was under the impression that Elektra was going to train on something, not jump straight into a mission. And for someone who scolded her yesterday for being reckless, the ‘plan’ is as vague as a punk show poster. Band: Spider-Women and Daredevil. Time: sometime after ten and before we’re all corporate slaves to The Man …The Hand? BYOW (Bring Your Own Weapons).

“Ok so. Murdock took Fisk's spot at the Kingpin?”

“Sorta. I think he’s still taking some orders from Fisk but Murdock has his own agenda. Fisk is just a capitalist, Murdock is connected with the Hand.”

“And what does the Hand want?”

“What does any secret ninja want? World control or immortality or something.”

“And what does your cult want?”

“You’ve seen Midsommar, right?” Blink blink, sorry what? “Kidding, duh. You’re so serious. The Chast isn’t a cult. It’s a thousand-year-old organization aiming to stop the Hand,” Elektra ‘clarifies,’ heavy on the air quotes. No one in a cult ever admits to being in a cult.

“Quacks like a cult, walks like a cult,” Gwen says shrugging, throwing her hands up. “Hey, no judgment! I know you Hollywood people are into some weird crap.” Is anyone else in it? It would be kinda cool if Elliphant is in the cult. Maybe Gwen would be down to join the cult if there are cool people in it.

“Bestie, if you wanna join, you’re in,” Elektra gives her a playful wink. “Ok, today’s mission should be easy enough, my sources say Murdock’s at a party on the Upper East side so we don’t have to worry about him. The Hand is expecting an important delivery, some sort of weapon. Murdock paid the tracksuit mafia to meet his guys at the docks. Plan is I’m going to fight the Hand and you’re going to swing in a couple of minutes later and help with the tracksuits. I want Murdock to think there’s a mole working with the tracksuits and to turn against them. Or at least think they’re incompetent. Since this is our first team-up, he’ll have no suspicion that we coordinated the attack–”

“Wait, last question,” Gwen interrupts.

“Yeah?”

“How do you know so much about Murdock?” Elektra really seems to know Murdock, his location, his thought patterns. Not to accuse her of being a mole but… Elektra is a stranger who found her in a dumpster.

“It’s ugh whatever,” Elektra stutters. Pull her scarf up to hide her face in a hurry.

Oh!

“No way,” Gwen gasps. “No. Fucking. Way.”

“I don’t like how much you curse.” Gwen can see Elektra's transparent attempt to change the subject.

“You slept with Murdock!?”

“No no, it’s worse. I dated him.”

“You what!? How long? Why? When? WHY!?”

“Long time. You do dumb stuff when you’re young and in love. Wait, how old are you?”

“Seventeen.”

“Brutal.” Yeah, that's fair. “If the mission goes well we can have brunch and gossip tomorrow but, let’s go Spider-Women.”

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

“Ok, plan. You’re going down there and you’re going to fight those dudes in black and my dudes are the ones in the tracksuits, right? But like when I swing in, you’re gonna start fighting all the dudes right? And that must be the container with the weapon, right DD?” Elektra’s gone? Gwen looks around, confused. “Daredevil?”

Oh.

There is she.

Slicing through one guy and kicking another guy in the face. Thanks for the heads up. They didn’t even get to say, “Go team!”

The tracksuits are hiding out being some containers, shooting chaotically at Murdock’s guys– oh they really are ninjas, with masks and swords and everything. Not just some Naruto cosplayers, they seem legit.

Although, if anyone care to consult Gwen, the Hand ninjas and the Russian Tracksuit guys should totally switch uniforms so the ninjas can look like the lady from Kill Bill.

Gwen keeps a close eye on Elektra, observing her fight style. Like herself, Elektra increments a lot of acrobatics, varying from flips to jump kicks. But where Gwen has a background in dance, Elektra looks like she has a background in Taekwondo or Capoeira. Every move is deliberate, every move is dripped with confidence and power. Quick and efficient punches to major pressure points. Elektra fights like a tiger–hiding behind obstacles and blending into the shadows before prancing on her victim, and kneeing them right in the neck.

Ouch.

Surely it’s been enough time? Has it? Maybe Gwen would know if Elektra actually went over the plan but it’s fine . It’s fine!

Gwen, you came in too soon, MJ’s voice echoes.

Never too early for a badass dumb solo.

One-two-three, Spider-Women swings in. Kick one guy and push him into another, causing them to trip over a pile of trash as she lands gracefully on the top of a shipping container. Guitar lick, the crowd cheers, and, “hey guys.” It’s Spider-Women, woosh. “Love the tracksuits, so Y2K. Are they Juicy Coutier?”

Gwenhe thwaps one gun out of one tracksuit's hand and throws it at another dude's face, hitting him right in the noise. She webs one dude and webs this other guy and bop.

“Come on, guys! At least make the fight juicy!”

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

The fight doesn’t make long, despite being outmatched, the Hand and the tracksuits are severally outskilled. Gwen is careful not to get too close to Elektra, hoping that none of the goons think they’re coordinating this. Still, she does web one guy's sword out of the way, giving Elektra a perfect opening.

“Thanks,” she just says.

Soon enough, someone shouts something in Japanese and someone else says something in Russian and they all skirt away. Gwen tries to run after them before Elektra stops her.

“Help me open the container instead,” Elektra says, prying the door. Gwen helps before peeking her head in, anxiously anticipating a legendary sword or spear or bomb.

Not this. Anything but this.

“It’s just a kid…” Gwen says apprehensively, “Elektra, he’s just a kid.”

“...Fuck. I ah–I ahh I have a friend on the police force. I’ll call him and the paramedics. Can you stay with him?” She nods, putting her hands up before carefully approaching the boy. Poor kid couldn’t be more than ten years old, fear painting his face.

“Hi,” Gwen says softly, “hi, don’t be scared, I’m not going to hurt you. Here–” she crouches down. “What’s your name?”

“Peter…”

“Oh ah that’s so cool. That’s my best friends name…” her voice drops, fear creeping up her throat. “And he’s one of the most amazing people I’ve ever met. He taught me something important, do you want to learn what is it?” She waits until Peter gives a nervous nod. “Everyone is capable of being special. Just like you. You’re special and that’s why we rescued you.”

“I want my parents…”

“I know, I know. We’re going to help you find them. We’re going to help you. Do you trust us?”

He nods shakily.

“Good.”

Gwen holds the little boy close til the ambulance sirens creep in, helping the paramedic transfer him on the stretcher. She uses a bit of webbing to pull the shock blanket up, earning her the tiniest smile from Peter. Totally worth it.

The assisting cops scatter around the crime scene, and Elektra stands off in the corner to talk to her friend? Oh crap, Castle. Ahh. Seriously Elektra, of all the people you could be friends with why him? Though maybe she shouldn’t be too surprised in her poor judgment, Elektra did date and probably make lots kisses and smoochies and yuck to Murdock.

Peter’s safe now, surely Elektra will understand why she’s webbing away. She sends Elektra a quick text asking her to meet her on the same roof top.

Gwen climbs up the side of a building before launching her web, swinging off like the badass she is.

—

“Wow! That was so cool! I can’t believe it! Sorry I dipped, Castle totally terrifies me, hold thing that we don’t need to get into but that was so cool! The way you used your pitchfork things–” Gwen blathers as soon as Elektra shows up.

“My sais?”

“Is that what they’re called? Cool! But yeah! Thank you!”

“No problem.”

“Do you think we can visit the kid tomorrow in the hospital? I mean as civilians, totally weird if Daredevil and Spider-Women showed up for visitation–”

“I’m sure we can,” Elektra smiles.

“I guess I should introduce myself then. Properly,” Gwen pulls her mask off, revealing her million-dollar smile, and extends her hand. “I’m Gwen Stacy.”

“I know. I googled your phone number. Remind me to get you a burner phone. But it’s nice to meet you, Gwen Stacy, I’m Elektra,” taking her hand with an equally sincere smile.

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

So yay, they saved the day. Go Team Spider-Woman and Daredevil. A cooler-and-more-stylish Batman and Robin (Gwen being Batman of course). Girl Power! Yippee.

Can two girls share the cover for Forbes thirty under thirty? Meh, she’ll email Mr. Forbes himself tomorrow morning. Will Elektra let her borrow a fancy dress for their press interview? Maybe something aqua. With sparkles. And biker shorts because ya never know.

Changing into her old band shirt and pair of shorts, Gwen flops–not lays gracefully, not awkwardly climbs in– flops onto her bed. Ahh her back felt so crunchy she should really stretch before sleep but she’s so exhausted. She hugs one of her Squishmellows and opens up youtube, queues up a video of Watcher, and waits for her eyelids to feel too heavy.

Brrrring.

Huh?

Elektra?

“Hello,” Gwen grumbles.

“Oh thank God, are you ok? Where are you?” Elektra sounds like she’s out of breath like she’s in the middle of a fight. But no, the fight just ended. They won.

“I’m home. Why, what’s going on?”

“Someone got the kid. Gwen, I’m so sorry…”

What…?

#daredevil #matt murdock #spider man #elektra #elektra natchios #earth 65 #spider gwen #gwen stacy #into the multiverse #into the spider verse #marvel #usaigi speaks

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watchmegetobsessed · 3 years

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SLEEPLESS

a/n: omg! it's been so long since i last wrote something for harry so it feels a bit weird but in a good way to be back. i've been spending more time offline so writing hasn't been going that fast like before, but im working on a few other stuff too! just please be patient with me, im trying my besti swear! so now enjoy this oneshot of two oblivious and stupid roommates who start sharing a bed...

pairing: Roommate!Harry x reader

word count: 8.1k

masterlist

Living with three boys has its perks but also a lot of downsides too. It’s not how you planned, you were set to move in with one of your friends from second year, but she bailed on you last minute, leaving you with no place to live when most of the houses were already taken for the next at least one year. You were bracing yourself to sleep under a bridge or something already when your heroes came along.

You went to high school with Harry Niall and Louis, but you weren’t exactly in the same friend group, just knew about each other. Then you ended up in the same Lit class freshman year with Harry and he was basically your pass into their little group. You hit it off pretty easily and you always wondered why you didn’t become friends before college. Later you had two more classes with him in the second semester and it was just all a coincidence that he found out about your living situation.

“Why don’t you move in with us?” he prompted one afternoon when you were studying together in the library.

“I’m not sharing a room with any of you, Harry,” you sighed, shaking your head.

“You wouldn’t have to. We had a fourth mate living with us but he dropped out about a month ago. You could take his bedroom.”

“Are for real? You should talk about it with the boys first, don’t you think?”

“I’m sure they wouldn’t mind it. They like you too and if I’m being honest, the place could use the touch of a woman,” he smirked and you just rolled your eyes, but you were incredibly thankful for the offer.

So after talking with Niall and Louis about it and once they gave their amens on the situation, you officially moved in with the three of them.

You’d be lying if you said there hasn’t been times when you thought about choosing the bridge, living with boys is not exactly a dream. They are messy, sometimes loud and oblivious about certain things women do and need. You’ll never forget Niall’s face when you packed the shelf above the toilet with your tampons and pads. The horror in his eyes as he examined all the different sizes and types.

“But why so many? I don’t get it why you need the large ones and the mini ones too,” he huffed.

“Because I vary them according to the strength of my flow.”

“Bless you,” he scoffed and just walked away.

They tend to leave their clothes around the house and they don’t always realize when it’s time to let some fresh air into the place either. Harry has a sixth sense wanting to use the bathroom when you’re in and Louis always forgets to get rid of his spoiled food from the fridge. Tini things that surely got you thinking if it was a good idea to move in with them. But then there are times when you can’t even imagine sharing a home with anyone else than these three idiots.

The way Harry always leaves you a cup of coffee on the counter when he has an early class on mondays and wednesdays, how Niall always waits for you to get home after your night shifts at the restaurant you’ve been working at, but he always just says he was watching Supernatural on TV. You love that Louis goes out of his way to get you your favorite pastry for breakfast on sundays when he goes for his morning runs. But the absolute best is that you never feel alone or bored with these three around. Something is always happening and they make sure to involve you in everything, making you feel like part of their little pack.

Tonight is Thursday and Thursdays are movie nights in your home. It’s been a tradition since the first week and you haven’t missed any of them. Sitting on the couch at your usual spot, you laugh as Niall growls in annoyance when you suggest to watch another rom-com.

“Not again!” he protests, sitting on the floor by the coffee table you and Harry thrifted a few months ago after the previous one was broken at a smaller party held in the house.

“Why? I bet Harry would love it!” you grin, glancing at the guy in talk who is now entering the room with a big bowl of popcorn.

“Of course he would, because he is a pussy! And the two of you always team up, dragging Louis with you so I can never watch something I enjoy!” Niall whines as Harry sits next to you, not too bothered by his friend’s cries.

“Come on, I bet you enjoyed Crazy, Stupid Love last week!” you laugh, remembering how he whined for the first part, then fell asleep at the end.

“Love, if you think that was enjoyment, I wouldn’t want to be your boyfriend,” Niall scoffs and you gasp at his reply.

“Hey!” you snap at him, but can’t help laughing. This is how it always goes with you and Niall, the non-stop bickering can sometimes drive Harry and Lou insane.

“Okay, so what do you want to watch?” Harry asks, throwing some popcorn into his mouth as he gets comfortable, an arm resting on the back of the couch behind you, the other one busy with the snack in his lap.

“There is this new horror I’ve been dying to see!” Niall’s blue eyes light up right away, but you’re fast to break that shine.

“Nah, no way. I’m not watching a horror movie.”

“Why not?”

“Because I fucking hate them and they scare the shit out of me.”

“That’s like the whole point!” he protests, but you shake your head no again.

“What are you fighting about again?” Louis asks, walking into the room after his quick shower, the smell of his body wash filling the room for a few moments.

“I want to watch a horror movie, but Y/N is a little baby and she doesn’t want to.”

“I’m not a baby! I just don’t enjoy watching people get killed or demons sucking the life out of someone!” Niall just rolls his eyes at your response.

“But it’s always what you or Harry wants to watch, why can’t I choose just this once?”

“That’s not true, we watch movies you like too!” you retort, but Niall gives you an unimpressed look. “We watched that crime thing, that was your choice!”

“That was three months ago, Y/N,” he sighs and as you do some quick math you realize that he is right.

“Hey, he has a point. Let’s just watch what he wants this one time, yeah?” Harry curls his arm that’s been on the back of the couch around your shoulder and he pulls you to his side, squeezing you gently.

“But I hate horrors,” you pout, knowing well that it’s already kind of settled, you lost this battle.

“It’s just a movie. And if you get scared in the night, you can sleep at mine,” he offers with a wink that surely makes your heartbeat fasten a bit.

If you’re being honest, you’ve always had a tiny crush on Harry, even back in high school, when you didn’t really know him. He was the cool guy, but not the douchebag type, more like the one that was nice to everyone and earned their respect and liking. Getting to know him just proved that he really is a great guy, but you figured he would never feel the same way about you. These three guys only saw you as their sister and that was in a way kinda worse than being friend zoned, but there’s nothing you can do about it, so you just decided to come to peace with your situation. But that doesn’t mean you don’t get flustered when you see him wander around the house in just his boxers or when he gets a little touchy with you, which happens a lot, because that’s just how he is. Hands on your shoulders, a little squeeze on your hips, the gentle touch of his fingers on your back, they happen all the time and they get your pulse up every time. You can only hope it’s not that noticeable.

Niall finally gets what he wants and you agree to watch that stupid horror movie. It doesn’t start off too bad, but it quickly escalates and makes you shudder every time the screen gets a little darker or the music is foreshadowing that something is about to happen.

“Jesus fuck!” you jump a little when the killer appears out of nowhere in the scene.

“You alright?” Harry asks, peeking down at you.

“I fucking hate this dude,” you mumble, rubbing your face with your hands, to get your shit together. Harry chuckles lightly next to you, his arm pulling you to his side close and you gladly sink against him, the warmth of his body giving you some comfort and a sense of safety.

Your eyes are on the screen, but your mind is dancing around how his fingers are delicately running up and down your arm, drawing circles and little shapes on your skin. It could put you to sleep easily, even with the woman screaming on the screen after seeing her husband get killed.

“Just imagine the guy with a funny mustache,” Harry murmurs, leaning closer to you so he doesn’t bother the other two guys with his comment. “Or maybe in a ridiculous outfit.”

“Like… in a onsie?” you ask, squinting your eyes at the screen.

“Could be, yeah,” he chuckles quietly. “Just imagine him running through the woods in a onsie with bunnies all over it.”

You can’t push your laughter down, covering your mouth with your hand so you don’t bother the others. Harry just smirks, giving you a squeeze as you’re still melted against his side on the couch, legs pulled up to your chest, while his are spread out in front of him.

“Definitely not that scary,” you giggle and Harry hums in agreement.

“Would you mind getting a fucking room, you guys? You have two, in fact!” Niall snaps at you playfully, when you start laughing again.

“Sorry, sorry!” you clear your throat, your cheeks heating up at the comment, but luckily it’s dark enough to hide your embarrassment. Niall is always quick to make dirty jokes and tease you in a way that makes you nervous, especially when it involves Harry as well. He has made plenty of comments about you and Harry since you’ve moved in, implying that the two of you sometimes act like a couple or that you should hook up. Harry is always quick to shake them off, that’s how you know he couldn’t even take the thought seriously.

At the end of the movie you feel like it wasn’t bad, not with Harry holding you close at least.

“Will you be screaming tonight, Y/N?” Niall teases you, making you roll your eyes at him.

“Either way it’s gonna be your fault.”

“I can live with that!” he laughs, bidding his goodbye before he shuts the door of his bedroom behind him.

You do your usual evening routine, get ready to bed and by the time you’re done in the bathroom all the boys have retired into their rooms. The hallway stands dark in front of you, only a tiny bit of light coming from your bedroom since you left your bedside lamp on in there, but you still can’t help the eerie feeling that washes over you. That movie didn’t sit right with you and now you have to face the aftermath of it.

Switching the lights in the bathroom off you sprint into your bedroom, pictures from the movie flashing in your mind of the killer just jumping out of nowhere. You shut the door and lean your back against it for a moment, taking a deep breath. Tonight is going to be long.

No matter how hard you try, you just can’t fall asleep. You’re way too alerted, opening your eyes at the tiniest of sounds around you, which is unfortunate, because your window is looking over the main street, unlike two other rooms in the house, that are facing the small backyard. Harry and Louis have the luck to have those rooms.

Every time you’re about to fall asleep something from the movie sneaks into your thoughts and you get scared to death. Soon, you realize you won’t be able to sleep on your own tonight.

Sitting on the edge of your bed, you wonder if Harry really meant that offer that you can sleep with him or not. Part of you is convinced it was just a joke, but when you hear someone shouting down the street you push your doubts aside and you quickly find yourself making your way to Harry’s room.

You knock on the room lightly, not wanting to wake anyone else up. The last thing you need is Niall seeing you go into Harry’s room in the middle of the night.

No answer comes from inside, but you won’t just leave it at that. Opening the door you’re facing another dark room, barely making out the furniture, but you already know the route by heart. Making it to the bed your eyes finally adjust to the darkness and you can see Harry lying on his side, sleeping peacefully. Squatting down you place a hand to his shoulder and give him a tiny shake.

“Harry?” you call out quietly, but his answer is just a huff. “Harry, it’s me,” you try again, squeezing his arm. He furrows his eyebrows before slowly blinking his eyes open, finding you in his sight.

“Y/N? What’s wrong?” he asks in that groggy, low voice you love hearing in the morning so much.

“I can’t… Did you mean that I can sleep here if I’m scared?” you ask, afraid that he might just have a good laugh and send you back to your room. For a long moment, he just blinks at you before nodding his head and you feel relief washing over you.

“Sure,” he hums.

“O-okay then I’ll bring a blanket and take the floor and--”

“Shut up, you are not sleeping on the floor,” he growls, grabbing your wrist and pulling you into bed with him as he scoots over, making you space on the mattress.

It’s a bit weird at first, lying in bed with Harry, especially because it’s just queen sized, so there’s not much space between the two of you, but it seems like Harry doesn’t mind it so why should you?

Your nerves are a lot calmer with Harry next to you, but maybe it’s still because of the movie or because you’re a bit anxious about the whole situation, you just still can’t relax enough to fall asleep.

“Y/N, no one is gonna kill you here,” Harry speaks up surprising you because you thought he has already fallen back asleep.

“I know, I know,” you whisper, trying to sound convincing, but you can’t fool anyone, especially not him.

He huffs deeply and before you could realize what’s happening, Harry’s arm is curled around your waist, pulling you against him, spooning you from behind, the warmth of his body wrapping your figure almost entirely.

“If a murderer comes, they will have to fight me first, alright? Now sleep,” he mumbles against your hair, squeezing you gently. All at once, you couldn’t care about killers and dark shadows around you, because Harry was right there, holding you tight and there was nowhere you wanted to be more than right there.

You slept like a baby. Harry’s closeness kept every nightmare away from you and the morning came with ease. Harry’s phone wakes the two of you up at eight, because he has a morning class at 9.30. The two of you are completely tangled up in each other, lying on your side facing each other, Harry’s arms are wrapped around you, while yours are hugging his waist. Groaning at the sound of his alarm, he rolls to his back to reach for the phone on the nightstand and then he finally turns it off. It’s bright outside, the darkness of the night finally long gone. You’re still groggy when Harry rolls back, his arm coming back around you like it’s the most natural thing in the world and in a sense, it feels like that. But as you both slowly wake up, you realize that you might be a little too close. Slowly but surely you let go of each other, rolling to your back, staring up at the ceiling.

“Hope I didn’t kick you in my sleep,” you smile at him, peeking over at him, hoping to break the awkwardness of the situation.

“No, don’t worry about it,” he chuckles, rubbing his eyes, before pushing himself up and off the bed. You follow him with your gaze as he steps to his dresser and grabs a pair of clean underwear. “I’ll put on a coffee while I shower, want one too?” he asks, though you know he could make one for you anyway.

“Sure, thank you,” you nod and he nods back, yawning as he walks out of the room, leaving you lying in his bed, a bit confused and kind of aching to be held by him again.

Two days pass by, everything is going as per usual, neither you nor Harry brings up that you spent the night in his bed that one particular time. Now it’s saturday and you all were planning to go out, but a sudden storm has cancelled your plans, so the evening turned into a cozy, lazy hangout instead of a wild party at some frat house.

Louis decided to work on a paper that’s due in two weeks, Niall has been relentlessly swiping on Tinder while you and Harry are spawled out on the couch, watching some shitty action movie that was on TV, since you both were too lazy to choose one and put it on. Deep down you’re a little happy you don’t have to spend the evening in a crowded, smelly house, drinking cheap alcohol.

Harry gets up from his seat to grab himself a drink just when Niall growls in annoyance.

“What is it?” you ask.

“They keep unmatching with me after we’ve talked a little!”

“Have you thought about the reason?” you smirk at him, knowing well that Niall probably isn’t the easiest to talk to, he surely takes it too far too soon.

“Well they probably don’t like that I ask them if I can go over,” he shrugs, making you laugh.

“You’d go over in the pouring rain?” Harry asks, returning to his spot on the couch. He puts his drink to the coffee table and instead of sitting into his previous position, leaning against the arm of the couch, he lies down, laying his head to your thigh, making your breath hitch for a moment.

“Of course not!” Niall rolls his eyes. “But I thought it would make them think I would do anything for them.”

“It makes you seem desperate,” Harry retorts, earning a questioning look from his friend. “What? It does!”

“No, it doesn’t.”

“Yes it does,” you nod in agreement. “Going over in the middle of a storm just to fuck? Sounds like you’re having a hard time finding someone.”

“Women are so fucking complicated, and for what?!” he growls, before storming off to his bedroom, like an angsty teenager, leaving you and Harry alone.

He doesn’t move, his head stays on your thigh using it as a pillow. His curls are tickling the soft skin on your thigh and you have to fight the urge to play with his hair or scratch his scalp. You stay like this for the rest of the movie and when he gets up you almost want to pull him back.

“Alright, I’m fucked, I’m gonna go to bed,” he yawns, stretching his arms out into the air as he heads into his bedroom. “Good night, Y/N.”

“Night, Harry!” you call after him as you watch his frame disappear down the hallway.

Sighing, you slide down on the couch, cursing under your breath that you’re still so hung up on Harry. You really thought that you had it under control, but lately those damn butterflies are acting up in your stomach at everything he does.

“I’m pathetic,” you mumble under your breath just as the sky rumbles outside with a blinding lightning, making you jump with a squeak. “Shit,” you huff, already knowing that falling asleep will be a pain in the ass. Again.

You’ve always hated storms, they make you think that something bad is about to happen, a tree is about to fall into the window or a lightning will blow up the building. It’s kind of stupid, you know it, but you just can’t help it.

Tossing and turning, you jump every time a lightning flashes somewhere outside and a few seconds later the thunder rips through your whole body, almost making you fall off the bed.

“Oh God,” you let out a shaky breath. You have no idea how long it is until the Storm finally stops and you’d really like to have a good night's sleep. So pushing your anxious thoughts to the side, you get out of bed and head over to Harry’s room once again.

It’s such a deja vu from a few nights ago, as you gently knock on the door you wait again, but this time you actually get an answer.

“Yeah?” you hear him call out from inside and you slowly open the door, peeking your head inside. Harry is lying in bed, his head propped up against the headboard as he is scrolling through his phone. “Y/N? What’s wrong?” he asks, putting the phone aside as he sits up.

“I just, I-I know it’s stupid, but I was thinking… I don’t know--”

“Y/N, just tell me, alright? Come on in,” he gestures for you and you slip into the room, closing the door behind you before sitting to the edge of the bed next to him. “What’s wrong?”

“I can’t sleep during storms…” you admit, looking into his eyes, hoping he gets the hint where you want to head with it. He stares back at you for a moment before he scoots over, lifting the covers up, giving you the green light to join him.

Relieved, you climb over to him, making yourself comfortable as he wraps the blanket over you, his arm immediately coming to cradle you, this time pulling you to his chest so your head is laid upon his shoulder, a hand gently placed onto his hard chest, probably right above where his butterfly tattoo is adorning his abdomen.

This is now easily your favorite place. Safe and tight in Harry’s arms, protected from anything and everything, like you’re in a little bubble as soon as you get on his bed.

Lightning strikes outside again and you shiver a little. Harry probably notices it, because he tightens his hold around you, as if it’s his way telling you that he is here and nothing bad is gonna happen. Eventually, you’re able to shut the outside out and only focus on Harry’s warmth, the touch of his hand on your arm and his even breathing. And then finally, you drift off to sleep.

This morning is different from the previous one you spent here. There’s no alarm since it’s Sunday, neither of you have anything in particular to do, so you wake up feeling rested, the Sun shining through his half drawn in curtains, no trace of last night’s storm can be noticed from where you’re lying in bed, the sky is as clear as ever. Sometime during the night you got tangled in a way where Harry is the one now cuddling you, his head lying on your chest, hugging you as if you were a giant teddy bear, his leg thrown between yours, lightly snoring against your sleep shirt. You can only see his mop of hair and the urge to play with them is back, but this time, you give in.

Leaving one hand on his back, you move the other one to his unruly locks, gently playing with one before you comb your fingers through it, lightly scratching his scalp. Harry hums in pleasure, shifting from his dreams back to reality, but he doesn’t move, just keeps humming as you massage his scalp.

“It’s not a good morning, it’s the best,” he mumbles groggily, making you chuckle at his words.

One of his hands is flat against your ribcage and the damned butterflies start dancing when you feel his fingers gently stroke your side as you keep playing with his curls. This feels so idyllic, as if you’ve been like this forever. You wish that was true.

Groaning as he stretches, Harry rolls to his back, making you instantly miss his body pressed against yours. He rubs his eyes, sighing deep as he blinks up at the ceiling a few times, then he turns his head to the side, looking at you.

Just when he is about to say something, outside his door it sounds like someone just broke a pile of plates and it’s followed by Niall’s usual annoyed growl. You both get out of bed to go and check what happened, not even thinking about how it might appear that you both are coming from Harry’s room in the morning.

Harry flings the door open and there is Niall, collecting pieces of a plate from the floor, his breakfast scattered down the hallway as well while he curses under his breath.

“What happened?” Harry asks, picking up a bigger piece from the plate.

“Fucking tripped,” he growls back, glancing up just for a moment, then back down, but then he processes that you’re standing behind Harry, in his room, in the morning. “What the fuck are you doing in Harry’s room?” he bluntly asks, quickly forgetting about the mess he just made.

“What?” you ask nervously, your pulse quickening in an instant. Harry stands up, seemingly not too bothered by Niall’s question.

“You slept in his room?!”

“She did,” Harry answers, leaning against the doorframe.

“Wait, are you two fucking?” Niall’s eyes widen, snapping back and forth between you and Harry.

“Just because two people sleep in the same bed, doesn’t mean they are fucking, Niall,” Harry chuckles, seemingly amused by the situation that’s got your stomach knotted. Louis’ door opens and he walks out, his hair a little messy, but already dressed, a mug halfway filled with coffee in his hand.

“Wha’s this circus out here?” he asks, looking around, his eyes scanning over the mess on the floor.

“Did you know these two are fucking?” Niall asks him and Harry lets his head drop back at his words.

“Are you?” Louis simply questions and you shake your head no.

“We are not. Y/N can’t sleep in a storm so she came over to mine.”

“Funny, she doesn’t come to me when she’s scared,” Niall scoffs.

“I never came to you because you don’t understand that sleeping together doesn’t mean sex,” you retort, though your ears are practically burning from the rising anxiety inside you.

“Wait, whoa. This wasn’t the first time you two slept together?”

“She was scared after your stupid horror movie too,” Harry shrugs.

“Wow, so are you guys a thing now or what?”

“Niall!” Harry growls and you’re not entirely sure what bothers you more. Niall’s shock and interrogation or the way Harry seems so cool and unbothered, like it’s no big deal. Maybe because for him it really isn’t, it’s only about the sleeping, nothing else, even though the cuddles are a little beyond the lines of friendship.

“What? I’m just asking the important stuff! Am I not allowed to tell dirty jokes to Y/N because you’ll cut my prick off?”

“You shouldn’t tell those anyway,” Louis chimes in and you nod in agreement.

Seeing that the conversation is just getting more and more awkward with each passing moment you decide to pull yourself out of it. Pushing yourself past Harry you mumble an excuse me before rushing back into your room, the three boys eyeing you curiously as you shut the door behind you, finally putting a physical barrier between you and them.

You shouldn’t be this offended, it’s not like any promises were made and you should have known better and not fall for him more than you already did. It was silly of you to think that there was anything more behind these nights spent curled up against each other, or when you woke up tangled and melted together. It was never what you hoped it to be.

Then and there you decide it’s better if you distanced yourself from him, or at least go back to how it was before. No bed sharing, no cuddling and preferably no bitter feelings.

It all goes well, because you have a pretty busy week after that day, you always have something to do and it’s not like you spent the night with Harry randomly, so it was evident that you stayed in your room so far.

But about a week later another storm was threatening to strike. The sky was gradually darkening all afternoon and now it’s only five o’clock, but it feels like eight. It’s Sunday, you’re quite exhausted since you were working until three. Niall was out somewhere with some of his coursemates and Louis went home for the weekend, won’t be back until Tuesday. It’s just you and Harry, who’s been sprawled out on the couch in only his sweatpants while you’re making yourself an early dinner so you can go to bed soon and have a good night’s sleep.

It doesn’t take long for the rain to start pouring, you’ve just gotten out of the shower when the first thunder rips through the place, making you gasp in fear. Harry’s head snaps around, looking in your way where you’re standing at the bathroom door, a questioning look in his eyes, but he doesn’t say a word. Ignoring his gaze, you just make your way into your bedroom, not even thinking about what could be on his mind. Is he thinking about whether you’ll ask to sleep with him again or he doesn’t care about it at all?

By the time you are ready to go to bed, the storm is fully raging outside, making your insides tremble every time you see a lightning or the thunder breaks the quietness in the house. You make one last trip to the kitchen, finding Harry leaned against the counter as he eats an apple.

“Going to bed early?” he asks as you pour yourself some water.

“Mhm,” you nod, avoiding looking at him.

“Everything alright?”

“Sure, I’m just tired,” you force a small smile onto your face just when a thunder rumbles outside, making you jump. Harry is watching you curiously and kind of expectantly, but you’re doing your best ignoring it. Instead, you just grab your water and head back to your room. “Good night.”

“Night, Y/N,” he calls after you, and you can feel his burning gaze on your back right until you close the door behind you.

Your plan to sleep a good ten hours goes right out the window. It doesn’t seem like the storm is about to calm anytime soon, so you’re stuck to suffer through it on your own. You’ll be damned to go to Harry’s, that would be an instant heart break and you just can’t take that right now. Long, torturous hours pass by with you lying awake in bed and part of you wants to go running over to Harry, but you force yourself to stay. It’s not happening tonight.

You fall asleep sometime after two in the morning when the thunder and lightning have stopped. Unfortunately, you need to wake up early in the morning, so when your phone’s alarm shakes you out of your sleep, you feel like absolute shit. Dragging yourself out of bed appears to be the hardest thing right now. As you make your way out, you are met with an all too familiar figure sitting at the small dining table, two cups of coffees in front of him, one obviously made for you.

Harry’s eyes snap up at you curiously, taking in your terrible looks as you head to the bathroom.

“Morning,” you mumble under your breath.

“Good morning’,” he nods in your way and though he doesn’t say anything else, you can tell he has a few thoughts about your current state.

Once you’re done with your morning business in there you join him at the table, barely able to keep your eyes open.

“Rough night?” he asks, eyes examining your face.

“Kinda.”

“The storm?”

You don’t answer, just nod your head. He remains silent, but you can feel that he is dying to ask another question.

Why didn’t you come over?

You’re glad he doesn’t actually asks you, because you wouldn’t be able to give either a normal answer or say anything without starting to cry. Instead, you just grab your coffee and head back into your bedroom to get ready for the day.

That week on Friday all four of you are invited to a party. At first you want to cancel, but some of your friends from classes will be there too and it’s been ages since you’ve been to a great party, so you decide to tag along with the boys.

For the first half of the evening you go your separate way, spending time with people you don’t actually live with and see every day. One drink follows the other, though you make sure you don’t go farther than getting tipsy. You’re not in the mood to deal with a nasty hangover in the morning.

Sometime after your third or fourth drink you run into Niall and he pulls you into their little circle that also involves Harry. When he sees that you’ve joined them, his eyes light up and goes out of his way to get next to you.

“I haven’t seen you in ages!” he whines, slurring his words as he wraps an arm around your shoulders to keep you at his side. He is definitely drunk, that you’re sure of.

“It’s been just about two hours, Harry,” you roll your eyes, but can’t push your smile down. You’d be lying if you said you’re not enjoying having him so close. Your dynamic hasn’t been the same since you stopped sleeping in his bed. Not that it was such a regular activity, it only happened two times.

“But I missed you, I feel like we haven’t… haven’t talked in so long!” he huffs, knitting his eyebrows together. “Have you been avoiding me?” he asks leaning closer, so your conversation can somewhat be private.

“That’s silly. Of course I haven’t!”

“But it feels like that,” he pouts with glossy eyes. “You’d tell me if something was wrong, right?”

“Sure,” you nod, the bitter taste of lying filling your mouth.

“Alright, cool,” he smirks and pulling closer he kisses into your hair before he engages with the rest of the group again, keeping his arm around you as if it wasn’t a big deal.

For the rest of the evening you simply don’t leave his side and not because he doesn’t let you, but because you don’t want to. Harry is not the only one missing the other, this week you’ve noticed that even though you’ve been keeping yourself busy, your thoughts always took you back to one particular, curly haired boy. Despite everything that’s been going on, he is your friend first and foremost who you love spending time with and talking about anything and everything.

Both of you are intoxicated, Harry a bit more than you, but you’re having a blast playing beerpong or ruining Niall’s chances with girls he is trying to pick up. You’re genuinely having an amazing time and it wouldn’t be the same without Harry.

Arriving back home your little group splits, everyone using the bathroom after the other and you’re the last one in line, because you always take the longest. By the time you’re finished, Louis and Niall are both locked up in their rooms, but Harry’s door is still open, some dim lighting illuminating the hallway. As you approach it, you find him throwing his dirty clothes into the hamper, but his head perks up when he sees you.

“Good night, H,” you sigh, quite tired and in need of a good sleep, but before you could head into your own bedroom, Harry grabs your wrist and pulls you into his. “What is it?”

“Sleep here,” he simply prompts, already leading you to the bed.

“Why?”

“Because I want you to.”

“I-I… I don’t--” you stutter, feeling flustered from his offer.

“Come on, you can’t say no,” he tells you, already crawling under his covers and then he holds them up as the invitation.

Taking a deep breath you follow him and make yourself comfortable in your almost usual spot. Harry’s arm falls over your waist in an instant, spooning you from behind as he hums pleased. But a few moments later he lifts his head, looking at you with concern in his eyes.

“You know you can say no, right? I was just joking.” Looking back at him you give him a small smile. Even drunk he makes sure you aren’t doing anything you don’t want to, but how could you not want it? You’ve been aching to sleep next to him all week, especially after the last storm when you suffered alone in your room.

“I know, Harry.”

“Alright, okay,” he nods, his head dropping back to the pillow. “I missed this,” he mumbles with a sigh.

“Yeah?”

“Mm, sleeping alone sucks,” he hums and in a split second, your heart breaks.

Harry didn’t want to sleep with you, he just wanted to sleep with someone and you were the one there. It has nothing to do with you.

You want to blame him, you want it to be his fault that your chest is now aching, knowing that it truly doesn’t mean the same thing to him it does to you, but you know you can’t. It wouldn’t be fair, so once again, you’re left with a sinking heart wrapped up into Harry’s embrace that suddenly feels burning.

“Good night, Y/N.”

“Good night, Harry.”

When the morning comes Harry is still sleeping deep beside you, an arm thrown over your waist, puffing warm air against the side of your head with every breath he exhales. Seeing him so peaceful warms your heart, but then you realize everything that happened last night, how he only used you because you were available and not because he wanted you.

You don’t want to wait for him to wake up and face him, your emotions would surely bring the best out of you. So carefully, you unwrap yourself from his hold and sneak out of his room, back into yours.

There’s no way you can face Harry right now, so before he could wake up you leave, planning on spending the day in the library, working on your assignments, hoping the school work will take your mind off of how badly you’ve been friendzoned.

Sometime after eleven Harry actually texts you asking where you went and you just tell him you have a shitload of school stuff to deal with. He asks if he can join you, but you tell him you’re with a group of your classmates, even though you’re sitting in an almost entirely empty library. He luckily doesn’t push it and leaves you to be. Hopefully he’ll be fine when you take another step away from him for a while to get your head straight and sort your emotions out.

You get home quite late, but not late enough, apparently. Because walking into the house you find the boys clearly getting ready to watch a movie.

“Just in time!” Niall beams. “Join us, Princess!” he laughs, grabbing himself a cola from the fridge.

“Oh, no, I have some things to work on--”

“Come on, you’ve been in the library all day, you can have a break!” Louis tells you and you know you won’t be left alone, they are just so persistent.

So you join them in your usual spot, which is of course next to Harry, though you’re trying to avoid his gaze that hasn’t left you since you arrived and by now you’re certain he knows you’re avoiding him. There’s a reason why he asked you last night if you’ve been doing it lately, he is not stupid, but this is not the time to deal with it.

With your inner crisis bubbling inside you, you completely forget to ask what you’re watching. A few minutes into the movie it becomes quite clear however.

“Is this a fucking horror movie again?” you ask, snapping at Niall, who just starts laughing.

“Don’t worry, I’m sure Harry will gladly let you sleep in his bed tonight,” he teases, making your whole face heat up at his comment. Harry slaps his chest before he turns to you with concern filled eyes, but you pretend like you see nothing, turning back to the screen with your jaw clenched.

You’re fucked.

The movie is a fucking shitshow and leaves you traumatized. When it’s over, you think about why didn’t you just stand up and go into your room when you realized it’s another horror. For a change, this one was filled with demons and monsters that hide in the shadows, just what you need before going to bed. In the night. In a totally dark room.

Exiting the bathroom you’re already planning on watching something lighthearted and cheerful in your room, hoping that would make you forget the movie you just saw and give you the chance to actually sleep.

Walking past Harry’s room you see that it’s still open and you catch him expectantly looking at you when you appear in the doorway as you walk down the hallway, your eyes meeting for just a split second before you disappear from his sight and shut your bedroom door without a word behind you.

No matter how many random videos you watch on YouTube, some scenes from the movie are just imprinted into your mind and they have you trembling in fear. Every shadow looks like a demon or ghost, hiding in your room, ready to haunt and kill you and you’re on the verge of actually crying. It might not be only because of the movie, more like everything else that’s been bottled up inside you, added to the fear the movie has brought to you.

Shutting your eyes closed you try to take deep breaths and for a bit it actually seems to help, but that is until you hear the door opening. It gives you an instant heart attack and you can’t keep your tears back anymore.

A whimper leaves your mouth as the door opens and you can only see a shadow entering the room, totally not recognizing Harry in the dark.

“Y/N, hey, it’s just me! It’s okay!” he quickly clears, seeing how shaken up you are. He rushes over to the bed, one hand cupping your cheek, the other one finding your hand and before you could think, you grip it hard.

“You scared the living hell out of me!” you cry out, sobbing.

“I’m sorry, I just wanted to check on you.”

Silence sets between the two of you that’s only momentarily broken by your shaky breaths as you try to calm yourself down.

“Why didn’t you come to mine after the movie if you were so scared?” he then asks, surprising you with how straightforward he is.

“I didn’t want to bother you,” you mumble, blinking the remaining of the tears away as Harry stares down at you intently.

“Why would you think you’d bother me? I like having you there.”

“But it’s… Doesn’t matter,” you sigh in defeat, but it just concerns him even more.

“No, tell me!”

“Harry, just go back to your room. I’ll be fine.”

“You definitely won’t and I’m not leaving until you don’t tell me what’s going on,” he protests firmly and you lose your patience to keep lying to him.

“You just wanted someone to sleep with yesterday, okay? You didn’t need me. And… I don’t want to depend on you more than I should.”

Harry stares back at you with a blank expression and you feel like this is going to be the end of your friendship. You have to come clean about your feelings and he’ll tell you that he doesn’t feel the same way. But then he speaks up and the tables turn faster than ever.

“Y/N, I wanted you to sleep with me last night. Not just anyone. You.”

“What?”

“I really thought we have been on the same page, but apparently, we’re not even in the same book,” he sighs, confusing you even more. “Wasn’t it suspicious how things have been between us lately? The way we slept, the mornings, did you think these are normal things to do?”

“I-I thought that… it didn’t mean anything to you.”

“Well it did,” he replies and you breath hitches in your throat. “I was trying to take it slow, see how you’d react to everything and I thought you were feeling the same way. But then last time you didn’t come to my room when there was a storm and I thought that was your way of telling me that you want to pause whatever’s been going on.”

You’re just blinking in shock, listening to his words. This is nothing you expected.

“But then you seemed like you opened back up last night and you agreed to sleep with me, thought we were back on track, but then you were nowhere to be found in the morning, avoided me all day and now you would have rather spent the night crying here alone than to come over to me. What did I do? Just tell me, because quite frankly, I have no idea what we are doing anymore, Y/N,” he sighs, clearly tired of this insane game you’ve been playing without even knowing.

“So… you did all of this, because… you…”

“Because I like you, Y/N. But there’s a possibility it’s already way more than just a strong liking,” he admits with a soft chuckle that melts you in an instant.

“Oh god, I could cry again, but not out of fear this time,” you tell him, making him laugh as you scoot closer to him on the mattress. “I feel the same way, Harry,” you softly tell him, your hands finding the base of his neck while his hands have wandered to your waist so now he is pulling you towards him until he ends up in his lap. His face is now so close, and even in the dark, you can see the cheesy smile on his pink lips.

“You’re not saying this just to keep me here because you’re scared to be alone, right?” he asks, clearly joking, earning a wholehearted laugh from you.

“No, but I guess that would be a major benefit of it.”

“I’ll protect you from all the demons and killers under one condition,” he smirks, his face already inching closer, his nose is already touching yours.

“Yeah? And what’s that?”

“I get to kiss you.”

“Deal.”

You barely say this one little word, his lips are already on yours, kissing you in a way that almost knocks all the air out of your lungs. You press yourself up against him, his arms curling around you, holding you tight as if he is already protecting you from everything that scares you, though you can’t really think about the stupid horror movies now that you’re kissing Harry.

He pulls you down with himself making you lie on your back as he holds himself up above you, his lips parting from your just enough so he can look into your eyes.

“How about I kiss you every time you feel scared?” he prompts, pecking your lips gently as you pull your legs up and his hips settle between your thighs, while your hands dance down his back.

“Alright, I’m in,” you smirk at him and for a moment he just stares back at you, smiling wide, in complete awe that it’s finally happening. Then he cocks his head to the side before speaking up.

“Are you still scared?”

“Very,” you nod. “I’m shaking.”

“Good,” he grins before his lips press onto yours again.

Thank you for reading! Please like/reblog if you enjoyed!

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divinerulerluvr · 3 years

Text

Crimson and Leather

After a murder, you and Kai have some fun.

Pairing - Kai Anderson x Fem!Reader

Words - 1.8k

Warnings - smut, murder mention, blood (a little bit), oral (male receiving), unprotected sex, Kai Anderson is his own warning

"I wanted to request some Kai smut. The reader is just as messed up as he is. They are powerful together, he trusts her with everything and values her opinions over any other member. She’s the only one who can bring out the real Kai. There’s a moment where they had just killed someone and she has to clean the blood off of his boots and he is sitting behind her massaging her back and it leads to dirty things." Requested by @friendly-neighborhood-ghoul

A/n - I know it's been a bit since I last posted but I make amends with this. I hope you guys like it because I feel like everything I've written recently has just been... blah. *also, had to resist the urge to name this crimson and clover but didn't*

- - -

Walking in through the door of Kai’s house, you watch as he closes and deadbolts the door. It was a habit he had adapted due to his heightened paranoia.

You guys had just gotten back from killing a couple. It was just the two of you since this was personal business and had nothing to do with the cult. You had always been Kai’s favorite since you were the most ruthless of them all.

He admired your lack of remorse.

Reaching his living room, you set your phone down on the coffee table as Kai removes his bloodied tee shirt. It was late at night and you and Kai were the only people home. Everybody else had left hours ago.

Kai sits on the couch, pushing his hair from his face as his eyes migrate over to you. Your shirt had blood on it as well but not as much as Kai’s had. “Make yourself useful and clean the blood from my boots,” he orders, his voice raspy.

“Only if you ask nicely,” you counter, pulling off your own shirt and tossing it to the ground, leaving you in just a bra and your pants. Kai sighs heavily, irritated at your reply.

“Can you clean the blood from my boots?” he asks again, this time in a nice tone. You smile and nod, leaving the room to get a wet rag. Coming back, you kneel down in front of him, ready to clean his boots.

You didn’t mind. It never bothered you having to do things for Kai. But you’d only do them if he wasn’t being rude about it. That was your rule.

There was more blood than usual on his shoes. You weren’t sure if it was because the guy Kai killed put up a fight or if it was because Kai had taken out a lot of aggression on the man. Either way, the dark crimson blood-soaked the damp rag quickly.

His hand rests on your head, using a gentle touch as he plays with your hair. You allow your head to fall back into his lap slightly, your eyes still drawn onto the black boots he wore.

“You know I’m proud of you, right? Everything you’ve done, everything you offer. It’s inspiring,” he says, his voice softer and kinder than usual. You just hum, leaning back into his touch. “You’re so open-minded. You listen to what I say and you never doubt. Unlike the other women in our cult,”

Kai always said “our cult” and never “my cult” when talking to you. It was strange, given he took high credit for starting and leading it. To hear him give you joint leadership was out of the ordinary. Then again, so was he.

“I believe in you. That’s why,” you reply, finishing off his right boot. You briefly move your head to face him, your head angled up to make eye contact. “I trust your philosophy,”

He smiles, patting your cheek lightly before running his warm hand down to your neck. “I know you do, little lamb,” he says. You move your eyes back to his boots, going to the still bloody left boot and cleaning off the leather.

Kai’s eyes watch you affectionately as you clean the blood, oddly turned on at the sight. The silence lays heavy over the both of you as you finish clearing his boots of any trace of blood. A proud smile falls on your lips as you admire your work.

Looking up at him, you’re met with his eyes already on you. “Done,” you say simply. Half-dried blood remains on his chest, stomach, and arms but you also had half-dried blood still stuck to your skin that had soaked through your thin shirt.

His hand runs down your neck and down the front of your chest, running over the splotched of blood that had fallen into the V between your breasts.

Your breath catches, your own hand running up his leg. Your hand quickly reaches up to his crotch, feeling his already hard dick through the fabric. “Someone’s a little needy tonight,” he comments snarkily.

“Just shut up and take your pants off,” you reply, not ready to put up with his stupid remarks. Kai had a skill at making the environment horny. It was like this weird seed was being planted in your mind going “fuck him, fuck him, fuck him,”

You didn’t care, though.

Standing from the floor, you watch as Kai pulls his jeans off so he’s in just his boxers. He pulls you down onto his lap, forcing his lips onto yours as your legs settle on either side of his thighs. He holds your face in his hands, keeping you secure as he kisses you hotly.

You grind your hips down on his bulge, suddenly desperate for some type of friction between your body and his body.

One of his hands strays from your face, wrapping around your back and unclasping your bra with ease. He pulls it off of you, all while still kissing. He tosses it aside and his hand moves to massage your breast.

Your moans become muffled by his lips, his tongue making its way into your mouth. Your hands go for his dick again but he grabs you and flips you so that you’re laying across the couch and he’s on top of you.

A giggle leaves your lips from the swift and surprising action, your eyes meeting his eyes now that he had stopped kissing you.

He starts trailing kisses down your body, starting with your neck and traveling down your chest. Reaching a patch of your victim's blood, he licks a slow stripe over the dark red stain on your skin. You squirm under him, a strangled moan leaving your lips.

His tongue trails back up your body, stopping at your nipple where he grazes his teeth over the peak tenderly.

After teasing your nipples, his lips crash onto yours again. His hands move down your body and he removes your pants and underwear in a single movement. Your own fingers slip under the waistband of his boxers, tugging them down.

Kai pulls his lips from yours, his hand petting your cheek as he lines up with your entrance. You hold your breath, preparing yourself for him to thrust into you.

He never did it nicely. That was his thing.

A sharp gasp leaves your lips as he pushes ruthlessly into your pussy. You were wet, but it still hurt. Your fingers dig into his shoulders, his sadistic smile hard to ignore. He loved the way you sounded when he fucked you.

He felt amazing, as usual. The house was dead quiet save for your moans and Kai’s soft grunts. It was awfully intimate.

Your hips buck up into his, his rough yet passionate thrusts making you unreasonably squirmy. “You’re so cute when you’re sensitive,” he comments, his thumb running over your lower lip. You whimper, your head pushed back against the armrest of his couch.

Kai moves so that he’s kneeling back on the couch. He pulls you down by your hips so that he can resume fucking you. He thrusts even harder this time, his tip hitting into your cervix as he uses his leverage on your hips to fuck you harder.

Your hands move to the cushion of the couch, digging into the material to relieve the tension building in your body.

You had gotten embarrassingly close already. You knew if you came now, Kai would make fun of you for it later. The only words you could piece together were “fuck,” and “Kai”. Making it rather difficult to get your point across.

Kai raises his eyebrow teasingly, his hands traveling over your breasts that move with every rough movement he makes. “Words, little lamb. I don’t answer to unintelligible whimpers,”

“I’m… I’m,” you stammer. “Kai,”

“I love hearing you say my name, believe me,” he says, punctuating his sentence with a particularly merciless thrust. “But I need more than that,” You whine, your back arching off the couch as you writhe around.

Your pussy clenches around his dick, your stomach filled with butterflies. “Please, Divine Ruler,” you finally manage to piece together. “L-Let me… cum,”

He smiles, leaning back over you as he kisses you. “Yes,” he says as his lips migrate to your jaw and to the crook of your neck. He buries his face there, his thrusts keeping a steady pace as he pushes you over the edge.

“God!” you cry out, your nails digging into his back as you orgasm. Your ears ring loudly and the world spins before you.

Kai fucks you through your orgasm, making sure you enjoyed every last bit of the feeling. You finally come down from your high, feeling Kai’s thrusts slow even if he didn’t finish. Panting, you regain your senses as the orgasm washes over you.

Your legs still shake, your body still going through the reverberations of your orgasm. Kai pulls out of you, still hard.

Kai moves so he’s sitting on the couch and you quickly get on your knees in front of him. He holds you by your hair, guiding your movements so your mouth wraps around his dick that was still coated with your wetness.

He pushes your head down onto his dick, only stopping when his tip hit the back of your throat. Kai was a head pusher but not in the bad way because you didn’t care.

He helps you get your movements steady before letting go of you and leaning back on the couch. Your head bobs on his dick, your eyes watering as he repeatedly hits the back of your throat.

A low groan leaves his lips, his eyes having shut as he indulges in the warmth of your mouth. “Fuck, your mouth feels so nice,” he exhales deeply, his chest heaving as he gets closer to his climax.

Tears streak your cheeks as you move your head a little quicker, helping him cum. He finally does, his cum filling your mouth.

Kai lets out a heavy sigh, his head falling back as he rides his high for a few more moments. You pull your mouth off his dick, his cum pooling on your tongue. Kai leans forward, pushing his two fingers into your mouth.

You suck on them, your eyes glued on his dark ones as your cheeks hollow around his ring and middle finger. Pulling his fingers from your mouth, he smiles. “Swallow for me,” he instructs plainly.

With a smirk, you swallow his cum, the salty liquid moving down your throat. He pats your cheek with his wet fingers, a proud look on his face.

“Go upstairs and shower. I’m not done with you yet, little lamb,”

#ahs #evan peters #kai anderson #cult #smut #request #kai anderson x reader #tate langdon #kit walker #fanfic #american horror story

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army-of-mai-lovers · 4 years

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in which I get progressively angrier at the various tropes of atla fandom misogyny

tbh I think it would serve all of us to have a larger conversation about the specific ways misogyny manifests in this fandom, because I’ve seen a lot of people who characterize themselves as feminists, many of whom are women themselves, discuss the female characters of atla/lok in misogynistic ways, and people don’t talk about it enough.

disclaimer before I start: I’m not a woman, I’m an afab nonbinary person who is semi-closeted and thus often read as a woman. I’m speaking to things that I’ve seen that have made me uncomfy, but if any women (esp women existing along other axes of oppression, e.g. trans women, women of color, disabled women, etc) want to add onto this post, please do!

“This female character is a total badass but I’m not even a little bit interested in exploring her as a human being.”

I’ve seen a lot of people say of various female characters in atla/lok, “I love her! She’s such a badass!” now, this statement on its own isn’t misogynistic, but it represents a pretty pervasive form of misogyny that I’ve seen leveled in large part toward the canon female love interests of one or both of the members of a popular gay ship (*cough* zukka *cough*) I’m going to use Suki as an example of this because I see it with her most often, but it can honestly be applied to nearly every female character in atla/lok. Basically, people will say that they stan Suki, but when it comes time to engage with her as an actual character, they refuse to do it. I’ve seen meta after meta about Zuko’s redemption arc, but I so rarely see people engage with Suki on any level beyond “look at this cool fight scene!” and yeah, I love a cool Suki fight scene as much as anybody else, but I’m also interested in meta and headcanons and fics about who she is as a person, when she isn’t an accessory to Sokka’s development or doing something cool. of course, the material for this kind of engagement with Suki is scant considering she doesn’t have a canon backstory (yet) (don’t let me down Faith Erin Hicks counting on you girl) but with the way I’ve seen people in this fandom expand upon canon to flesh out male characters, I know y’all have it in you to do more with Suki, and with all the female characters, than you currently do. frankly, the most engagement I’ve seen with Suki in mainstream fandom is justifying either zukki (which again, is characterizing her in relation to male characters, one of whom she barely interacts with in canon) or one of the Suki wlw pairings. which brings me to--

“I conveniently ship this female character whose canon love interest is one of the members of my favorite non-canon ship with another female character! gay rights!”

now, I will admit, two of my favorite atla ships are yueki and mailee, and so I totally understand being interested in these characters’ dynamics, even if, as is the case with yueki, they’ve never interacted canonically. however, it becomes a problem for me when these ships are always in the background of a zukka fic. at some point, it becomes obvious that you like this ship because it gets either Zuko or Sokka’s female love interests out of the way, not because you actually think the characters would mesh well together. It’s bad form to dislike a female character because she gets in the way of your gay ship, so instead, you find another girl to pair her off with and call it a day. to be clear, I’m not saying that everybody who ships either mailee or yueki (or tysuki or maisuki or yumai or whatever other wlw rarepair involving Zuko or Sokka’s canon love interests) is nefariously trying to sideline a female character while acting publicly as if she’s is one of their faves--far from it--but it is noteworthy to me how difficult it is to find content that centers wlw ships, while it’s incredibly easy to find content that centers zukka in which mailee and/or yueki plays a background role.

also, notice how little traction wlw Katara ships gain in this fandom. when’s the last time you saw yuetara on your dash? there’s no reason for wlw Katara ships to gain traction in a fandom that is so focused on Zuko and Sokka getting together, bc she doesn’t present an immediate obstacle to that goal (at least, not an obstacle that can be overcome by pairing her up with a woman). if you are primarily interested in Zuko and Sokka’s relationship, and your queer readings of other female characters are motivated by a desire to get them out of the way for zukka, then Katara’s canon m/f relationship isn’t a threat to you, and thus, there’s no reason to read her as potentially queer. Or even, really, to think about her at all.

“Katara’s here but she’s not actually going to do anything, because deep down, I’m not interested in her as a person.”

the show has an enormous amount of textual evidence to support the claim that Sokka and Katara are integral parts of each other’s lives. so, she typically makes some kind of appearance in zukka content. sometimes, her presence in the story is as an actual character with layers and nuance, someone whom Sokka cares about and who cares about Sokka in return, but also has her own life and goals outside of her brother (or other male characters, for that matter.) sometimes, however, she’s just there because halfway through writing the author remembered that Sokka actually has a sister who’s a huge part of the show they’re writing fanfiction for, and then they proceed to show her having a meetcute with Aang or helping Sokka through an emotional problem, without expressing wants or desires outside of those characters. I’m honestly really surprised that I haven’t seen more people calling out the fact that so much of Katara’s personality in fanon revolves around her connections to men? she’s Aang’s girlfriend, she’s Sokka’s sister, she’s Zuko’s bestie. never mind that in canon she spends an enormous amount of time fighting against (anachronistic, Westernized) sexism to establish herself as a person in her own right, outside of these connections. and that in canon she has such interesting complex relationships with other female characters (e.g. Toph, Kanna, Hama, Korra if you want to write lok content) or that there are a plethora of characters with whom she could have interesting relationships with in fanon (Mai, Suki, Ty Lee, Yue, Smellerbee, and if you want to write lok content, Kya II, Lin, Asami, Senna, etc). to me, the lack of fandom material exploring Katara’s relationships with other women or with herself speak to a profound indifference to Katara as a character. I’m not saying you have to like Katara or include her in everything you write, but I am asking you to consider why you don’t find her interesting outside of her relationships with men.

“I hate Katara because she talks about her mother dying too often.”

this is something I’ve seen addressed by people far more qualified than I to address it, but I want to mention it here in part because when I asked people which fandom tropes they wanted me to talk about, this came up often, but also because I find it really disgusting that this is a thing that needs to be addressed at all. Y’all see a little girl who watched her mother be killed by the forces of an imperialist nation and say that she talks about it too much??? That is a formational, foundational event in a child’s life. Of course she’s going to talk about it. I’ve seen people say that she doesn’t talk about it that often, or that she only talks about it to connect with other victims of fn imperialism e.g. Jet and Haru, but frankly, she could speak about it every episode for no plot-significant reason whatsoever and I would still be angry to see people say she talks about it too much. And before you even bring up the Sokka comparison, people deal with grief in different ways. Sokka repressed a lot of his grief/channeled it into being the “man” of his village because he knew that they would come for Katara next if he gave them the opportunity. he probably would talk about his mother more if a) he didn’t feel massive guilt at not being able to remember what she looked like, and b) he was allowed to be a child processing the loss of his mother instead of having to become a tiny adult when Hakoda had to leave to help fight the fn. And this gets into an intersection with fandom racism, in that white fans (esp white American fans) are incapable of relating to the structural trauma that both Sokka and Katara experience and thus can’t see the ways in which structural trauma colors every single aspect of both of their characters, leading them to flatten nuance and to have some really bad takes. And you know what, speaking of bad fandom takes--

“Shitting on Mai because she gets in the way of my favorite Zuko ship is actually totally okay because she’s ~abusive~”

y’all WHAT.

ok listen, I get not liking maiko. I didn’t like it when I first got into fandom, and later I realized that while bryke cannot write romance to save their lives, fans who like maiko sure can, so I changed my tune. but if you still don’t like it, that’s fine. no skin off my back.

what IS skin off my back is taking instances in which Mai had justified anger toward Zuko, and turning it into “Mai abused Zuko.” do you not realize how ridiculous you sound? this is another thing where I get so angry about it that I don’t know how useful my analysis is actually going to be, but I’ll do my best. numerous people have noted how analysis of Mai and Zuko’s breakup in “The Beach” or Mai being justifiably angry with him at Boiling Rock or her asking for FUCKING FRUIT in “Nightmares and Daydreams” that says that all of these events were her trying to gain control over him is....ahhh...lacking in reading comprehension, but I’d like to go a step further and talk about why y’all are so intent on taking down a girl who doesn’t show emotion in normative ways. obviously, there’s a “Zuko can do no wrong” aspect to Mai criticism (which is super weird considering how his whole arc is about how he can do lots of wrong and he has to atone for the wrong that he’s done--but that’s a separate post.) But I also see slandering Mai for not expressing her emotions normatively and not putting up with Zuko’s shit and slandering Katara for “talking about her mother too often” as two sides of the same coin. In both cases, a female character expresses emotions that make you, the viewer, uncomfortable, and so instead of attempting to understand where those emotions may have come from and why they might be manifesting the way they are, y’all just throw the whole character away. this is another instance of people in the fandom being fundamentally disinterested in engaging with the female characters of atla in a real way, except instead of shallowly “stanning” Mai, y’all hate her. so we get to this point where female characters are flattened into one of two things: perfect queens who can do no wrong, or bitches. and that’s not who they are. that’s not who anyone is. but while we as a fandom are pretty good at understanding b1 Zuko’s actions as layered and multifaceted even though he’s essentially an asshole then, few are willing to lend the same grace to any female character, least of all Mai.

and what’s funny is sometimes this trope will intersect with “I conveniently ship this female character whose canon love interest is one of the members of my favorite non-canon ship with another female character! gay rights!”, so you’ll have someone actively calling Mai toxic/problematic/abusive, and at the same time ship her with Ty Lee? make it make sense! but then again, maybe that’s happening because y’all are fundamentally disinterested in Ty Lee as a character too.

“I love Ty Lee so much that I’m going to treat her like an infantilized hypersexual airhead!”

there are so many things happening in y’alls characterization of Ty Lee that I struggled to synthesize it into one quippy section header. on one hand, you have the hypersexualization, and on the other hand, you have the infantilization, which just makes the hypersexualization that much worse.

(of course, sexualizing or hypersexualizing ANY atla character is really not the move, considering that these are child characters in a children’s show, but then again, that’s a separate post.)

now, I understand how, from a very, very surface reading of the text, you could come to the conclusion that Ty Lee is an uncomplicated bimbo. if you grew up on Western media the way I did, you’ll know that Ty Lee has a lot of the character traits we associate with bimbos: the form-fitting pink crop top, the general conventional attractiveness, the ditzy dialogue. but if you think about it for more than three seconds, you’ll understand that Ty Lee has spent her whole life walking a tightrope, trying to please Azula and the rest of the royal family while also staying true to herself. Ty Lee and Azula’s relationship is a really complex and interesting topic that I don’t really have time to explore at the moment given how long this post is, but I’d argue that Ty Lee’s constant, vocal adulation is at least partially a product of learning to survive at court at an early age. Like Mai, she has been forced to regulate her emotions as a member of fn nobility, but unlike Mai, she also has six sisters who look exactly like her, so she has a motivation to be more peppy and more affectionate to stand out.

fandom does not do the work to understand Ty Lee. as is a theme with this post, fandom is actively disinterested in investigating female characters beyond a very surface level reading of them. Thus, fandom takes Ty Lee’s surface level qualities--her love of the color pink, her revealing standard outfit, and the fact that once she found a boy attractive and also once a lot of boys found her attractive--and they stretch this into “Ty Lee is basically Karen Smith from Mean Girls.” thus, Ty Lee is painted as a bimbo, or more specifically, as not smart, uncritically adoring of Azula (did y’all forget all the non-zukka bits of Boiling Rock?), and attractive to the point of hypersexualization. I saw somebody make a post that was like “I wish mailee was more popular but I’m also glad it isn’t because otherwise people would write it as Mai having to put up with her dumb gf” and honestly I have to agree!! this is one instance in which I’m glad that fandom doesn’t discuss one of my favorite characters that often because I hate the fanon interpretation of Ty Lee, I think it’s rooted in misogyny (particularly misogyny against East Asian women, which often takes the form of fetishizing them and viewing them only through a Western white male gaze)

(side note: here at army-of-mai-lovers, we stan bimbos. bimbos are fucking awesome. I personally don’t read Ty Lee as a bimbo, but if that’s you, that’s fucking awesome. keep doing what you’re doing, queen <3 or king or monarch, it’s 2021, anyone can be a bimbo, bitches <3)

“Toph can and will destroy everyone here with her bare hands because she’s a meathead who likes to murder people and that’s it!”

Toph is, and always has been, one of my favorite ATLA characters. My very first fic in fandom was about her, and she appears prominently in a lot of my other work as well. One thing that I am always struck by with Toph is how big a heart she has. She’s independent, yes, snarky, yes, but she cares about people--even the family that forced her to make herself smaller because they didn’t believe that their blind daughter could be powerful and strong. Her storyline is powerful and emotionally resonant, her bending is cool precisely because it’s based in a “wait and listen” approach instead of just smashing things indiscriminately, she’s great disabled rep, and overall one of the best characters in the show.

And in fandom, she gets flattened into “snarky murder child.”

So where does this come from? Well, as we all know, Toph was originally conceived of as a male character, and retained a lot of androgyny (or as the kids call it, Gender) when she was rewritten as a female character. There are a lot of cultural ideas about androgynous/butch women being violent, and people in fandom seem to connect that larger cultural narrative with some of Toph’s more violent moments in the show to create the meathead murder child trope, erasing her canon emotionality, softness, heart, and femininity in the process.

This is not to say that you shouldn’t write or characterize Toph as being violent or snarky at all ever, because yeah, Toph definitely did do Earth Rumbles a lot before joining the gaang, and yeah, Toph is definitely a sarcastic person who makes fun of her friends a lot. What I am saying is that people take these traits, sans the emotional logic, marry them to their conception of androgynous/butch women as violent/unemotional/uncaring, and thus create a caricature of Toph that is not at all up to snuff. When I see Toph as a side character in a fic (because yeah, Toph never gets to be a main character, because why would a fandom obsessed with one male character in particular ever make Toph a protagonist in her own right?) she’s making fun of people, killing people, pranking people, etc, etc. She’s never talking to people about her emotions, or palling around with her found family, or showing that she cares about her friends. Everything about her relationship with her parents, her disability, her relationship to Gender, and her love of her friends is shoved aside to focus on a version of Toph that is mean and uncaring because people have gotten it into their heads that androgynous/butch women are mean and uncaring.

again, we see a female character who does not emote normatively or in a way that makes you, the viewer, comfortable, and so you warp her character until she’s completely unrecognizable and flat. and for what?

Azula

no, I didn’t come up with a snappy name for this section, mainly because fanon interpretations of Azula and my own feelings toward the character are...complicated. I know there were some people who wanted me to write about Azula and the intersection of misogyny and ableism in fanon interpretations of her character, but I don’t think I can deliver on that because I personally am in a period of transition with how I see Azula. that is to say, while I still like her and believe that she can be redeemed, there is a lot of merit to disliking her. the whole point of this post is that the female characters of ATLA are complex people whom the fandom flattens into stereotypes that don’t hold up to scrutiny, or dislike for reasons that don’t make sense. Azula, however, is a different case. the rise of Azula defenders and Azula stans has led to this sentiment that Azula is a 14 y/o abuse victim who shouldn’t be held accountable for her actions. it seems to me that people are reacting to a long, horrible legacy of male ATLA fans armchair diagnosing Azula with various personality disorders (and suggesting that people with those personality disorders are inherently monstrous and unlovable which ahhhh....yikes) and then saying that those personality disorders make her unlovable, which is quite obviously bad. and hey, I get loving a character that everyone else hates and maybe getting so swept up in that love that you forget that your fave is complicated and has made some unsavory choices. it sucks that fanon takes these well-written, complex villains/antiheroes and turns them into monsters with no critical thought whatsoever. but the attitude among Azula stans that her redemption shouldn’t be hard, that her being a child excuses all of the bad things that she’s done, that she is owed redemption....all of that rubs me the wrong way. I might make another post about this in the future that discusses this in more depth, but as it stands now: while I understand that there is a legacy of misogynistic, ableist, unnuanced takes on Azula, the backlash to that does not take into account the people she hurt or the fact that in ATLA she does not make the choice to pursue redemption. and yes, Zuko had help in making that choice that Azula didn’t, and yes, Azula is a victim of abuse, but in a show about children who have gone through untold horrors and still work to better the lives of the people around them, that is not enough for me to uncritically stan her.

Conclusion

misogyny in this fandom runs rampant. while there are some tropes of fandom misogyny that are well-documented and have been debunked numerous times, there are other, subtler forms of misogyny that as far as I know have gone completely unchecked.

what I find so interesting about misogyny in atla fandom is that it’s clear that it’s perpetrated by people who are aware of fandom misogyny who are actively trying not to be misogynistic. when I first joined atla fandom last summer, memes about how zukka fandom was better than every other fandom because they didn’t hate the female characters who got in the way of their gay ship were extremely prevalent, and there was this sense that *this* fandom was going to model respectful, fun, feminist online fandom. not all of the topes I’ve outlined are exclusive to or even largely utilized in zukka fandom, but a lot of them are. I’ve been in and out of fandom since I was eleven years old, and most of the fandom spaces I’ve been in have been majority-female, and all of them have been incredibly misogynistic. and I always want to know why. why, in these communities created in large part by women, in large part for women, does misogyny run wild? what I realize now is that there’s never going to be a one-size fits all answer to that question. what’s true for 1D fandom on Wattpad in 2012 is absolutely not true for atla fandom on tumblr in 2021. the answers that I’ve cobbled together for previous fandoms don’t work here.

so, why is atla fandom like this? why did the dream of a feminist fandom almost entirely focused on the romantic relationship between two male characters fall apart? honestly, I think the notion that zukka fandom ever was this way was horrifically ignorant to begin with. from my very first moment in the fandom, I was seeing racism, widespread sexualization of minors, and yes, misogyny. these aspects of the fandom weren’t talked about as much as the crocverse or other, much more fun aspects. further, atla (specifically zukka) fandom misogyny often doesn’t look like the fandom misogyny we’ve become familiar with from like, Sherlock fandom or what have you. for the most part, people don’t actively hate Suki, they just “stan” without actually caring about her. they hate Mai because they believe in treating male victims of abuse equally. they’re not characterizing Toph poorly, they’re writing her as a “strong woman.” in short, people are misogynistic, and then invoke a shallow, incomplete interpretation of feminist theory to shield themselves from accusations of misogyny. it’s not unlike the way some people will invoke a shallow, incomplete interpretation of critical race theory to shield themselves from accusations of racism, or how they’ll talk about “freedom of speech” and “the suppression of women’s sexuality” to justify sexualizing minors. the performance of feminism and antiracism is what’s important, not the actual practice.

if you’ve made it this far, first off, hi, thanks so much for reading, I know this was a lot. second, I would seriously encourage you to be aware of these fandom tropes and to call them out when you see them. elevate the voices of fans who do the work of bringing the female characters of atla to life. invest in the wlw ships in this fandom. drop a kudos and a comment on a rangshi fic (please, drop a kudos and a comment on a rangshi fic). read some yuetara. let’s all be honest about where we are now, and try to do better in the future. I believe in us.

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fairyoftbz · 3 years

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impossible love | j. changmin

🍞 pairing: tailor son!Changmin x baker!fem! reader 🍞 word count: 3.9k 🍞 genre: angst, fluff, sort of crush-to-lovers, Middle Ages!au 🍞 tw: swear words, jealousy 🍞 synopsis: your relationship with your sister has never been good, and you completely lose it when you see her flirt with your crush. 🍞 a/n: everytime I write for Changmin i have to tag you @sainthwngs 🤍🤍🤍 i hope you will enjoy this "small" work of him!! 🍞 requested: nope!

╰☆☆☆☆╮

“Y/N, darling! Make some more bread after serving the Gatsby family, please!” your mother exclaimed from outside the shop as you actively kneaded the dough at the back, wiping your hands on your off-white apron before offering a smile to your customers.

The stretch on your face immediately disappeared as a sight on the other side of the street caught your attention. Sweat rose to your face, and shivers erupted in your body, resulting in you almost dropping the two loaves of bread you had subconsciously grabbed for the middle-class family. They didn’t even spare you a glance as you messily placed their order in the jute bag the servant was holding out to you, hands shaky as thoughts clouded your brain.

The woman threw a few crowns on the wooden counter with disdain before walking away, the servant hastily grabbing the bag and the son’s hand as the family walked out. You leaned your elbows on the counter and rested your hands against your forehead, biting your lower lip to prevent your tears from spilling out as your heart started hurting.

The tailor’s son Changmin was leaning against the shop doorway, a playful smirk painted on his face as he talked to your sister. While the man was completely oblivious of your feelings, your sister took the advantage of it. Much to your dismay, she knew that you liked him.

You didn’t want her to know at first, but you were a little too obvious of your attraction for the man when you stammered as you talked to him. He was really handsome, all the women wanted to marry their daughters to him, but he wasn’t interested at all. Changmin was nice to you, cracking a few polite jokes when he came to the bakery to buy some bread for his mother, making you feel like you could potentially have your chances with him. But you were wrong, oh so wrong. So naive and innocent to think that your sister wouldn’t seize the opportunity to plant you a knife in the back at this marvellous occasion.

You were trembling in rage as they were clearly flirting, and there was nothing more infuriating at the moment. You scoffed when she had the audacity to quickly turned around to check if you were in the shop, purposefully leaning closer to him with the same seducing smile she offered to every single of her conquests.

The relationship between you and your sister had always been difficult, her constantly accusing you to be your parents’ favourite child since you were born, and the time didn’t help at all. Many fights broke between you two for various reasons, but the most recurrent ones were about money. You were the most hard-working child, spending days and nights at the bakery to help your parents and make everything ready for each following day. Your sister, on the other hand, was busy roaming the streets, flirting and spending all the money you and your parents had given up hours of sleep to earn it in alcohol or street bets. You couldn’t even remember the last time you saw money in the clutch bag your grandmother sewed for your 18th birthday a few years ago, one of the many items your sister had the bad habit of stealing.

Anger boiled through your veins, letting the tears spill out of your eyes in rage. Stomping your ankle boots on the floor, you almost tripped on the pans of your dress as you went in the back office, slamming your fists on the table before crouching down while letting all the sorrow in your body come out in choked sobs. The smell of freshly baked bread gave you a small wave of warmth and comfort as you desperately tried to get this image of Changmin and your sister swooning over him out of your head, but it was to no avail.

And again, she had won. She was prettier, more confident than you, and there was nothing you could do against it. No matter how hard you fought, she’d always have the upper hand and take the slightest opportunity to ruin and humiliate you.

You don’t know how you found it, but you managed to gather some strength and get back to work as if nothing had happened. You were a bundle of nerves, kneading the dough angrily, imagining that it was your sister’s face instead of a pile of flour mixed with milk and eggs. Since you were the only bakery in town, you didn’t necessarily need to be nice, but you didn’t want any rumours to start about you. Some people got twisted brains and were ready to say some blatant lies to hear gossip and witness street drama.

Once you closed the bakery from inside, you walked upstairs and locked yourself in your bedroom without sparing your parents a glance. They asked you if you wanted to eat, but you just paid no attention to them, slamming the heavy wooden door behind you as an answer.

Without freshening up or eating, you drew the curtains and went to bed, head facing the wall. A few choked sobs escaped your pursed lips as you tried to control your emotions, but it was to no avail. You cried a major part of the night, your body fuelling with rage again when you heard your sister walking through the main door, shutting it like it was the middle of the afternoon, visibly drunk and in desperate need of attention. You almost went crazy when she stopped at your door and snickered, loving the way you had reacted to her provocations the same afternoon.

Chest heaving up and down heavily, you clutched your teeth to control your anger, not wanting to give her the satisfaction to get what she wanted. You heard your father scolding her for coming home so late and being so loud, and she immediately changed her tone, apologising to your dad profusely before going into your room. Your dad tried opening your door, but it was locked, whispering a few sweet words in case you weren’t asleep.

When you woke up a few hours later, the sun still hadn’t risen, but it was time for you to go to work. You felt sick to the stomach and dizzy, your lack of sleep and your self-inflicted fast from yesterday were not helping you to feel any better.

“Y/N, dear, come and eat something,” your father said as you got out of your bedroom, ready to start your day. His face saddened when he saw your tired state, resting a kind-hearted hand on your shoulder. You offered him a brief smile before shaking your head.

“I’ll eat some bread downstairs, don’t worry about me,” you mumbled, eyes flickering as you just wanted to go back to bed.

“Promise?” he said, raising his forefinger towards you. You nodded and offered him a tired smile before exiting your home.

Since you promised your father, you half-heartedly munched on some bread, watching the closed tailor shop in disgust. Your brain made you imagining again Changmin and your sister flirting together, your teeth angrily ripping apart a piece of bread from the small loaf.

“Woah, easy there Y/N, who came in your dreams and turned you into a beast? What’s gotten you so angry?” a deep voice got you out of your trans, mouth filled with bread as you noticed Eric, your childhood friend but also the farmer, holding a wooden crate filled with all the ingredients you needed to make bread.

“Sorry Eric, it’s just my sister again. Thank you for all of this,” you said as you walked around the counter and guided him in your workplace, putting everything in its place. “Your relationship between you two will never get better, will it?” Eric sighed while helping you in your task, only to see you half-shrug as an answer. “As long as she won’t behave, no, nothing will change. But it’s better like that, it’d be weird to have her being nice to me,” you said, and Eric shook his head. “I saw murder in your eyes when I arrived, I highly doubt it’s better like that,” he smirked, and you sullenly chuckled through your nose, walking with him outside the bakery, where his horses and his dog were waiting for him.

Eric’s hand landed on the side of your neck, his thumb caressing the edge of your jaw. His friendly gesture helped your muscles to relax, offering a small smile as a thank you, paying his products by sliding a few crowns in his pouch.

“Hey! That’s way too much, you’re not buying me a donkey! No please Y/N, take it back,” he said as he gave you back half of the coins you gave him, but you shook your head. “Take it as my way to thank you for being there for me since day one,” you sadly said, wrapping your hand around his to close his palm and pushed it back towards his pouch. “I don’t need your money to prove that you are my friend, I love you for what you are,” you rolled your eyes at his words and petted his dog’s head, who happily yapped at the display of affection.

You waved at him with a tired smile as he rode his horse further into the village, going back into the bakery once he was out of sight. This little encounter with your childhood best friend helped to clear your mind, reducing your anger close to zero. Of course, it was still there, but you will manage to tame it down for a moment.

However, this peaceful moment got interrupted when the bakery door creaked open, head peeking from your workplace, hands kneading the dough. Your heart skipped a bit out of anger as you rubbed your hands together to get rid of the flour before going behind the counter.

“If you’re looking for my sister, she’s still sleeping,” you spat as you stared at Changmin, who was surprised by your aggressiveness. “Well good morning to you too, Y/N,” he said, and you huffed, your hands gripping the edge of the wooden counter. “Well hello Changmin, welcome to the bakery. What can I serve you today?” you imitated the fake nice, high-pitched tone and body movements of your sister, your face falling back to neutral a few seconds later.

The tailor’s son was completely taken aback by your actions, not expecting this type of behaviour from you, who had always been sweet and helpful to him and his family. You placed the loaf of bread he usually asks for on the counter between the two of you, Changmin not moving an inch, still gazing at you with questioning eyes. His gaze fixated on you, and he was surprised when you didn’t blush and look away like you used to, your orbs boring into his with boredom.

“Anything else?” you dryly asked, and Changmin shook his head, extending a few crowns towards you. When you were to grab it, his other hand seized your wrist, your eyes widening. “What’s gotten you today? You didn’t look this mad when the farmer came here before me,” he said, and you raised your eyebrows. “Now you’re spying on me? Is everything alright in your head?” you frowned and freed your wrist from his grip, taking the crowns before turning your back to him. “It was hard for anyone to miss your little flirty moment in the street,” he bitterly snickered, and you scoffed loudly, feeling the anger boil back into your veins. All the hard work Eric had put into calming you just flew out the window in a millisecond.

You turned around to face the tailor’s son, your head shaking side to side at the boldness of his remarks. Changmin looked kind of angry, but it was nothing compared to your fury when you slammed your palms against the counter.

“The fucking cheek of it! You dare to accuse me of flirting in the street with my childhood best friend, when you and my sister were the ones making a spectacle of yourselves just yesterday, swooning and courting her like Romeo and Juliet!” you spat at him, feeling the tears rise in your throat. You swallowed them, as well as your pride, not wanting to give him the satisfaction of seeing you hurt by his words. Moreover, you never knew when your sister could appear, and you were not giving her the opportunity to humiliate you again in front of him.

“What on Earth are you talking about? I am not courting your sister!” he retorted, eyebrows furrowed. “Don’t try to act all innocent, it’s not gonna work with me, I saw yours and my sister’s little game. Don’t take me for a fool Changmin,” you said through gritted teeth and went back to your workplace, kneading the dough as a way to reduce your anger.

Once the front door closed, you fell onto your knees, tears flooding your cheeks. You felt so remorseful for talking to him that way, you were never this impolite and aggressive, but your anger spoke before your reason and values. But at least something was clear, your chances with him were reduced to zero. With the way you behaved this morning, there was no way for you to win against your sister. It’s not as if you had the slightest chance, but it’s always good to keep dreaming.

Later in the day, your mother asked you to go and get her and your dad’s shoes repaired to the cobbler down the main street. You sent a death glare to your sister as you noticed her smoking tobacco in front of the tavern with the innkeeper, who was around the same age as your dad, sometimes extremely inappropriate and shameful for your family reputation. She discreetly raised her middle finger to you, and you ignored her, her fake laugh sending chills of anger down your spine as you walked past her.

Despite being the richest man in town, the cobbler had always been humble and sweet with you. Maybe the fact that he was Eric’s uncle helped, but you always appreciated going there. The dim atmosphere and the smell of the different types of leather always made you think of the bakery, feeling like you shared something for your respective jobs with the old man. He loved making and repairing shoes as much as you loved making bread, so you understood the other when you enthusiastically talked about your passions.

“How’s your sister doing? I heard she got a job at the flower shop,” the cobbler chuckled at your flabbergasted state as he finished his sentence, readjusting himself in his seat. “My sister is jobless, flirting with every man she encounters and spending all the family savings in street bets and alcohol, I highly doubt she hit upon a job by Mr. Kim,” you said as he handed you your mother’s pair of shoes, thanking him with a nod. “This is what she told me last week when she came. She had this wonderful pair of black heels that got stuck in the pavement,” you nodded, clicking your tongue as you found out that she stole something from you, again.

“Hey, hey,” the cobbler shook your shoulder across the counter, trying to prevent you from crying as he noticed the tears of exhaustion filling your eyes. You nodded your head as if to convince him and yourself that you won’t break, smiling through your glossy eyes. “Thank you, Sir. I’ll deliver your bread tomorrow as usual,” you mumbled and he offered you a reassuring smile, almost seeing some similar features with your best friend, knowing that you could always go back to the Sohn family if you weren’t doing well. “Take care, Y/N, take care,” he said as you walked through the door, waving at him before wiping your eyes and walk back to your home.

For once, your sister was at the bakery, swooning excitedly over a flower bouquet resting on the counter in a clay vase. Your eyes widened at the sight of the bouquet, your sister swatting your hand away as you were about to touch a yellow rose.

“Stop it! You’re gonna ruin it with your ugly fingers. Plus they’re not for you, so you’re not allowed to touch them,” she spat, and you walked past her, purposefully bumping your shoulder against hers, making her whine like a child and take a few steps back to take in the shock. Your mother was cooking lunch in the kitchen on the higher floor, and she asked you who was making this much noise downstairs.

“Your daughter, Mother,” you dryly said, clearing your throat before continuing. “She apparently received a bouquet from a special someone, and she feels the need to let the entire neighbourhood know about it, just like when she has a man over. Here are your and Father’s shoes,” you said as you placed them down next to yours, your mother thanking you as she reflected on your words.

“Sometimes I wish she was more like you,” she said as she stirred the liquid in the cauldron, her words making you bitterly chuckle. “I don’t think that will ever happen, Mother, she despises me too much to even consider me as a family member. Anyway, I’m going back to work,” you stated and walked back to the entrance, hearing your mother disagree. “Y/N, dear, what do you mean? Y/N!” She yelled, but her words fell on deaf ears, closing the door behind you before going back down in the bakery.

Your sister and the bouquet had vanished, much to your delight. You breathed in deeply as you started working hard again, focusing on your tasks to forget everything that happened today that scarred your heart. The afternoon went by in the blink of an eye, but it seemed like your faith had prepared still more trouble to come.

Just as you were about to finish your last loaf of bread of the day the front door opened again, this time you didn’t even bother to look.

“I’ll be there in two minutes!” you yelled from the furnaces as you pulled out freshly baked loaves with your big, wooden spatula, letting them rest on the side. You quickly checked if they were baked all around and nodded, inwardly praising yourself for your nice job.

Once you arrived behind the counter, you huffed heavily as you noticed who is standing in front of you.

“You know that the door to our home is on the left side of the house, you can go and knock there if you wanna see my sister,” you stated, lazily showing him the wall. “Stop thinking I’m here to see your sister,” Changmin said, looking annoyed at your words, “I’m here for you.”

You snorted and immediately apologised, letting out a true laugh as you thought he was joking. The tailor’s son frowned at your reaction, making him look ridiculous. His tongue poked his inner cheek and waited for you to calm down, his serious expression making you frown.

“Why did you want to see me, then? You had to come back to humiliate me again since doing it this morning was not enough?” you said, a sarcastic smile on your face. “I don’t know who planted this idea in your head, but I am not in love with your sister. She does not interest me. At all!” he exclaimed, and you had to laugh again. “Of course, you want me to believe that. That’s why you delivered flowers here this morning, right?” you said, and Changmin’s face decomposed in front of your eyes, his shock state making you raise your brows.

“No. No, she bloody didn’t,” he said and swiftly turned around to look outside, a hand pressed on his mouth. He quickly turned back to you and leant over the counter, resting his palms on it. “It was a bouquet of white tulips and yellow roses, right?” “Yes, in a white clay vase,” you confirmed, “those are not her favourite flowers by the way. She prefers purple hydrangea,” you added.

“Is nothing ticking inside your brain right now? Your mind is so clouded by hatred towards your sister that you don’t understand where I wanna get at?” he said, his face nearing yours closer and closer at each word. “Mh, who do you think those flowers were for? Why would I be gifting your mother some, my mother did that for her birthday a few weeks ago. Then if it’s not for your mother nor your sister, who’s left?” You thought in silence for a second before opening your eyes wide.

“They were for me?” you whispered, suddenly feeling all the pressure and anger reducing in your body as you pointed at yourself. Changmin was so close that his breath fanned against your face as he sighed deeply, his eyes searching for yours as you took in this confession. “Of course they were for you, Y/N. Sunwoo’s father told me that yellow roses were gifted as a form of apology. I was asking for forgiveness with those. But of course, I now understand your reactions if you believed they were for her,” he said, and you glanced at him.

“I don’t know what you imagined or saw yesterday, but I was only polite with your sister. I don’t want to be one of her conquests or just a one-night stand, this doesn’t interest me at all. I wanna mean something for someone. All the times that I came here, your sister was working, except for this morning. I was happy that you were the one behind the counter, I wanted to have a nice chat with you, but everything became so confusing to me when you were this dry and rude to me. But now I understand, I understand everything,” he quietly explained, and you felt like an utter idiot, looking at his large hands resting on the wooden counter.

“I should be the one apologising. I shouldn’t have treated you like that, but I was just… close to exploding,” you said, head hanging low as you realised you behaved like a temperamental child.

“Y/N, I’m responsible too. I shouldn’t have assumed you and your childhood best friend were a thing. I guess I was... jealous and upset that you gave another man attention and probably scared to see you slip through my fingers,” you looked up at him, and he smiled, your heart skipping a beat as you feel like breathing again.

He was interested in you. Not in your sister, in you.

And that simple thought just stretched a smile on your face, your breath mixing with Changmin’s as you were staring in each other’s eyes, so close to the other. A delicious shiver ran down your spine as your nose bumped into his, smiling as he rubbed them together. You closed your eyes, still smiling, millions of butterflies erupting in your stomach as you felt his lips locking with yours in a sweet kiss. It felt even more magical than you had always imagined in your dreams, and a groan got stuck at the back of your throat when he cupped your cheeks with his slender hands to deepen the kiss over the counter.

And for once, you were the one winning. Your sister had better watch out, because you were already excited to rub your relationship with Changmin in her face, a feeling of sweet revenge creeping up in your stomach as you kept kissing your crush.

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sup-hoes-its-me · 3 years

Text

Skinny Love (Kakashi x Reader)

A/N: hello again. I'm in love with Kakashi this mans makes me heart go wild I swear. Hope you like seeing him on ur dash lol. Shy reader who is too afraid to confess how she feels to Kakashi. This is only part one and is essentially just fluff. The second part will be all angst and sadness so beware.

Ps. It took me so long to get this one done. I was struggling to find the right words.

Word count: 4000

"Come on, sensei. You like him," Sakura laughed, poking her superior in the arm. The group of women stood outside the training grounds after a day of hanging out and working on their jutsu. On occasion Y/N enjoyed taking the girls out and spending time with them. It was a relief to be away from all that testosterone. If only for a short time.

She just shook her head, smothering down the embarrassment she felt creeping up her neck. Her stomach churned whenever she recognized her feelings for the man. It was just so intense. "I would never feel that way about a coworker, you know that, Sakura."

"But he's not just a coworker to you, is he? He's also your close friend," Ino hummed.

"Perhaps, but haven't I taught you that it's bad to let emotions get in the way of work?"

The blond rolled her eyes, turning to fully face one of her sensei, who she would argue was deeply in denial. "Seriously why does it even matter? Kurenai-sensei and Asuma-sensei literally had a baby together. You should definitely tell Kakashi you like him."

Y/N tossed her head back against the wall, sighing. "Girls, I really don't like him. He's just my friend. He's nice to me and I appreciate that, but that doesn't mean I want to date him or anything." Her voice shook and clearly she had been caught.

She was always so bad at lying.

"Whatever you say, Y/N."

"It's just something I'd rather not dwell on, Sakura. I'm sorry for being so private about it, but it's a sensitive subject for me," the woman confessed, rubbing the back of her neck awkwardly.

"It's okay! You don't have to apologize. We get it! Feelings can definitely be complicated."

"I-I," she started, about to explain herself, but instead she rethought what she was about to say. There was no reason to actually reveal how she felt about the man. These times were tough, and there wasn't any room for making things even more messy with relationship drama. Y/N was more than happy just pretending they were friends and nothing more. As long as she had him just to talk to, she would be fine. As long as he always made it back alive, there was no reason to complain.

"You're right. Feelings are too complicated," she muttered, feeling herself practically deflate as she did so. Y/N was beginning to think she was just the one making everything complicated when it didn't have to be. Skipping around and lying about her feelings. Kakashi wouldn't ditch her if she just said something, she was sure of it.

Just as Sakura was about to reply, the voice of the man in question chimed in from down the path, "Y/N, we were looking for you."

"Yes, the third wheel to our tricycle of youth!"

Y/N felt a smile grow on her lips at the sounds of those voices, especially Gai's exclamation of youth. He was awfully weird, she thought, but that was what kept him so interesting. She turned to face the men walking in her direction. "Kakashi, Gai! What's up? The girls and I were just finishing our training."

"We're going out for drinks and thought you might like to join."

"Sounds great. It's been a long time since the three of us went out. For some reason we never have off at the same time anymore."

"Yeah, it's a shame. Missions have taken over our lives lately," Kakashi said tiredly. It was true. They really never had a second to rest. It was beginning to take its toll. Those were the consequences of war though. "How have you been?"

"Good, I, um..." she began, her eyes trailing up to Kakashi's. He watched back intently, patiently, and she felt something in her chest flutter up. He was always so handsome, she wondered how she could go so long without seeing his face. She just wanted to leap forward and give him a hug, wrap herself up in his warm arms for just a little while. That wasn't an option though, so she settled on some simple words. "I've missed you."

His eyes softened barely enough to be noticeable but she saw. Her heart continued to flutter up in her chest and she sighed, clutching her hands tighter behind her back. No doubt the girls standing just behind her were hyper-analyzing all their interactions, especially after revealing they held an interest in the pair's relationship.

He didn't have the chance to reply though, as Gai was the one to chime in. "Why thank you. I have to say, I've missed you as well, my kunoichi friend."

"Thanks, Gai." Even if the statement wasn't exactly pointed toward him, she was happy she had been missed.

"No problem! Now I hope you young ladies don't mind if we take L/N off your hands."

"No no. It's not a problem, Gai-sensei. I'm sure our moms want us home for dinner anyway. It's getting late after all."

"Yeah, we'll see you later, Y/N-sensei." The pink haired girl waved ss they started to make their way in the opposite direction toward town. Ino paused for a moment though.

"Don't forget what we talked about. You really shouldn't be so shy; it's gonna be okay," she said softly. Y/N sighed, nodding her head as if to say fine. In reality, she wouldn't do anything different. She wasn't feeling very open to changing herself or facing any of her fears. "See you around."

It was kinda sad that Y/N found comfort and support in a bunch of 15 year olds. She was an adult, couldn't she talk to other adults about her problems. These girls were just so accepting and she didn't feel awkward talking about immature things like crushes. Any other adult would just be too wrapped up in their own lives to care too much anyway.

"What was that about?"

"Nothing, Kakashi. We were just talking about random stuff. You know how curious they can be."

"You go out there and fight rogue shinobi every week. How could you be shy?" The green beast asked.

"It's really nothing. They're always assuming things about me. I'm reserved, but I wouldn't say I'm shy, per se…" She stopped to think for a quick second, tapping her foot on the ground. "Actually, I would say I'm just more conscious of the things I say and do than most other people. Not a bad thing at all."

Kakashi nodded. "It's good to keep a level head."

"Exactly. I'm Level headed. Thanks, Kakashi."

"Now let's head off to the bar! Sake for everyone!" Gai cheered, throwing his fist up in the air. She nodded, walking up beside the pair as they started off toward the restaurant of their choice, which she hoped was her favorite one with the tastiest fruit juice drinks. She was willing to put out good money to have one good, tispy night of drinks and snacking. It had already been weeks since she had a night off, one time wouldn't break the bank.

She stood to the right of them, just beside Kakashi. Every now and then she found herself drifting just a bit too close to him, her natural gait leaning toward the left. At one point, she found her hand skim dangerously close to his and she snatched it away to keep herself in check. Holding his hand perhaps was a dream of hers but she wasn't going to actually try anything.

It wasn't that she was afraid of Kakashi. Quite the opposite actually. She cared for him so deeply it sometimes made her stomach churn when she thought about it. He was her friend for ages, ever since she could really remember. He was one of the only people she could sit with and feel completely enveloped in a warm comfort, free of judgement and deceit. Gai as well, but Kakashi was different.

Maybe he could be a bit of pervert, and even sarcastic at times, but he was never rude. He had changed over the years from being a know-it-all, little jerk to someone everyone liked and admired, a kind and brave soul.

Unfortunately, it took bouts of death and loss to come about this change, but she wasn't going to ignore it. He was the best man she knew, and it only seemed natural she fell in love with him. He would probably never feel the same way. He had better things to worry about and other women to long for. He didn't have his entire life to wait around for a shy woman like herself. That was okay.

As long as he was alive and well, she would be happy.

Maybe one day she would gather the courage to grab his hand, to run her thumb over his knuckles and feel the callouses against her skin. Maybe one day she would have the courage to confess how she felt. Not now, but one day when she was comfortable.

"You okay?" He asked, pulling her out of her deepening thoughts. "You're walking really slow and uh, your hand…" The man motioned to where she was clutching her wrist against her chest.

"Yes, I'm fine. Just uh, my wrist is sore from training." She worked her hand in a circle, pretending to stretch it out. He rolled his visible eye, knowingly.

"Sure. Always skipping around the real issues."

"I'm really okay. I was just thinking hard about something."

"Anything to do with what you, Sakura, and Ino were talking about?" he suggested, raising a brow.

She groaned. He always knew what she was thinking. It was definitely one of his best and worst qualities depending on the situation. In this case, she felt awkward as she was so lost in thought about him. She felt like a fool. "Maybe it was. But that was girl time and now it's drinking time. Different topics of discussion."

"Well, mind telling me what's got you so caught up? It's gotta be important."

"It's personal."

"Ah, I see. Well, that's fine. When you want to talk about it, I'm always around."

There was silence for a moment, her thoughts running wild in her head. He was so kind, it wouldn't be bad to tell him how she felt. He would let her down easy, surely. And Gai would be there to cushion her embarrassment, no doubt. He would make things less awkward somehow. She was sure of it.

It was crazy. No way she would say anything. Definitely not.

"I'm interested in someone," Y/N found herself blurting out before she could stop herself. She just felt so much pressure building up in her chest and the only way she could relieve that feeling was to tell him something, anything about the predicament she was in. She wouldn't tell him exactly how she felt and about who, but she could vent.

Damn, all this and she didn't even have her first drink. That man really did something to her.

The men stopped in their path, their heads turning their attention solely to her. She felt her neck and cheeks begin to heat up and her palms start to sweat. Why would she say that? Dammit. She really was a fool.

"Really? Who?" Gai asked. "He'd be a fool to reject you, of course, beautiful flower of the leaf! You do not have to worry!"

"Gai...it's really not that simple. He is, um, out of my league, I guess you could say," she muttered nervously, rubbing her palms together to ease her anxiety. "He's just well, I don't know, the perfect guy ever."

She could feel Kakashi tense at her side, and her eyes scanned over him. He didn't look out of the ordinary but his energy had definitely changed. Strange.

"No one is out of your league, don't you dare say something like that! If he doesn't let you down easy, I will use my fists of justice to defend you! Tell me who this mystery man is."

"This is what Ino meant when she said you were being shy. You aren't going to tell him, are you?" Kakashi asked, and she noticed the bit of annoyance in his tone. She wondered if he was just upset she was talking about such silly things when they were ready to start drinking. She felt embarrassed. They were adults. Adults don't talk about this kind of thing. He doesn't want to hear about the guys she's interested in, or how she feels about them. Maybe Gai would be interested in it, but not a cool guy like Kakashi.

"Of course not. Like I said, he would just reject me anyway, there's no point," she told them. "And Gai, I can't just tell you who it is. You know you're a loud mouth; you'd go around telling everyone." She really didn't believe Gai would do that to her. He was far too conscious of others feelings for the most part. She just couldn't risk Kakashi knowing. She would keep it a secret from him.

"Oh come on! Just tell us! I'll help you out, be your wingman!"

"Maybe I'll tell you another time. When I'm more confident in myself."

"Well, what is it that has finally caught out dear friends heart in a web of love? Tell us!" Oh man. He really was nosy sometimes. He meant well, but occasionally he just didn't know when to stop. Kakashi kept his mouth shut because he understood she was getting uncomfortable, that or he was growing annoyed as she suspected.

Regardless, it was nice to get some of this off her chest, even if it was risky business.

"I don't really know. He's smart and considerate, and very brave. He's handsome as well, that's a plus," she smiled, listing off the things she liked about the man standing right in front of her. It felt so exhilarating, talking about her feeling so openly. It was terrifying and relieving at the same time. Y/N exhaled as she thought about him again, "He just makes me feel happy when I'm in my worst moments, that's all. I mean, what else could I ask for?"

"I see! He sounds like a good guy. Can't wait to meet him," he laughed until his eyes widened and he leaned in a bit closer to her face. He pointed his finger at his chest and questioned, "Unless of course, I already know him. It's not me, is it?

She found herself smiling just a little, her lips curving up at the absurdity of it all. "No definitely not. You don't have to worry about that."

"I'm wounded, but I understand. My youthfulness is just too strong for you."

As she thought of something to say, she began to question just why Kakashi hadn't said anything really at all. It was strange of him, letting the other man do all the talking when normally he asked her questions and at least tried to engage. Maybe he was feeling tired or bored with the conversation. She had to change the subject.

"So uh, let's get a move on before all the good booths are taken, yeah?"

"Actually, I'm getting tired. I think I'll just head home for the night, get ready for my mission in two days," the white haired jounin sighed. They both looked over to him, surprised, but Y/N knew why he needed to go. She had upset him somehow. So much for a fun night between the three of them.

"Kakashi, come on! Don't bail on us now!"

She took a step back and her eyes trailed up to his, which were narrowed, not angrily just as if he had been hurt or confused she couldn't tell which. "Oh, are you sure?" Her heart was sinking in her chest seeing him so conflicted.

"Yeah. Got a headache, too."

"Ah, okay. Well, I'll see you around sometime?"

"Yeah."

"Goodbye, rival. Hopefully you are feeling better tomorrow and we can have a real night of drinking indeed!"

And with that, he left to his apartment, leaving the other two behind. She felt her stomach begin to turn uncomfortably, sick from the thought of Kakashi just leaving them like that. He seemed so angry, she couldn't help but think it was all her fault. It wasn't in his nature to act that way.

They had already spent so much time apart already that it was tugging at her heart strings. She felt like they rarely saw each other anymore. For him to be angry at her and leave, that meant they would just see each other even less than before. It seemed like a nightmare come true. She really did miss him, like she had said. She missed the fun they would have together and the conversations they shared. She just missed him and there he went, gone off again without so much as a real goodbye.

The woman clutched at her stomach, feeling the tossing and turning overtake her sense with nausea.

Suddenly, before she could contain herself, tears began dripping down her cheeks, and she sucked in her breath. Hot tears warmed her cheeks, and frantically she wiped them away from her cheeks. Her arms wound around her waist and she hugged herself tightly inward, almost as if she would turn into a ball if she could.

"Y/N, what's wrong?! What happened?"

"It's Kakashi," she whispered, trying to keep herself from crying anymore but it only got worse.

"Kakashi? Because he left? It's okay, we can go drinking another night or-or you and I can just go alone. No problems," he tried to say but it wasn't going to work. She didn't want to go to dinner with Gai and she didn't want to wait until tomorrow, or whatever the next time they would all be together. She was being stupid and selfish, acting like a spoiled little baby with all this crying. She just couldn't stop herself.

"It's not that. There's something I haven't told anyone. I don't know what to do."

"It's gonna be fine whatever it is. Just calm down."

"No, I can't. It's so bad, Gai. I'm in love with him, it's him, and now he's mad at me and I don't know what I did wrong," she confessed, feeling all the words slipping out so easily. How is it that such strong emotions could just cause her to think so irrationally and just let something like this happen? A bout of confessing every feeling she had to her friend who may or may not go and relay all this information to Kakashi. It was stupid. She was just being stupid and reckless.

He nodded carefully, moving to take ahold of her shoulders to steady her. "It's gonna be okay. He's not mad at you, I promise. I know Kakashi and I'm sure he really was just feeling sick."

"Gai, I just...I don't want him to ever leave me, even over something stupid like this."

"Trust me, you don't have to worry about Kakashi leaving you. He would never do something like that. You are one of his closest friends. There's almost nothing you could do to make him do that, especially if you always have good intent at heart. Trust me, you really don't ever need to worry," Gai explained trying his best to reason with her. "You two do everything together. He never stops talking about you! He would never let you go."

"Are you sure?"

"Yes, I am one hundred percent sure!"

"I-I need to go find him. I need to make sure he's not upset with me," she said as she pushed herself away from him. He waved to her as she started in the direction of Kakashi's apartment.

"Goodluck on your mission, Y/N, not that you'll need it."

______

Kakashi was just about to enter his apartment when she dashed up the stairs and turned the corner, going so fast she nearly slid into the wall. His eyes widened when he saw her, and he froze in his spot, not turning the key to the door just yet. Her face was flush and chest heaved. He could tell she rushed on her way.

"Y/N, did you run all the way here?"

She stood, catching her breath after just having run all the way across town to find him. Her heart raced as she looked up at him, and she clutched at the railing of the stairs for support. "I wanted to say sorry for whatever I said to make you angry with me. I didn't know I was being insensitive."

"I told you I was sick," he replied, but she knew better. And he knew she did. He wasn't dumb. They knew each other better than that and there was no pretending.

"I could tell that was a lie. I know you were angry and I felt terrible."

"Were you just crying?"

She exclaimed back, holding a hand over her heart to maybe try and ease the racing heartbeat, "Maybe. What about it?! I was hurt that I'd offended my friend, isn't that tear-worthy?" She took a few more deep breaths through her mouth, letting the air fill her up and calm her down. "Why were you so upset?"

"It's not important."

"No, no. It's important to me!"

The man paused, thinking over his next words carefully. He very well knew the real reason he ran away from their conversation like a coward. He actually thought it was obvious. It wouldn't hurt for her to know. He sighed, "If you really want to know. It's because I was tired of hearing about your love life. It's not exactly an entertaining subject."

She knew it but admittedly she would be lying if she said she didn't feel her heart break a little at those words. He didn't care about her feelings enough to just sit there and listen to her talk for a couple minutes? Was she that annoying? So many thoughts ran through her head, and each one made her sad. "I just didn't want to go a whole night with Gai talking about it," he added. "It's nothing to do with you."

"I'm sorry. I really shouldn't have brought it up."

"It's fine," he brushed off her apology. "I'm the one who asked about it in the first place."

"Why- why wouldn't you want to hear me talk about other men? Why would that be a sore subject for you?" She asked, her curiosity spiking up through the roof. It was strange, the whole situation. He had never backed down from a personal chat before, only this time.

He felt like a deer caught in the headlights suddenly. How was he supposed to reply to that without blowing his cover. "I just don't like the whole romance thing."

But they both knew that was a lie. He read romance for breakfast, lunch, and dinner. But if he wanted to keep his secrets, she would let him. There was no need to pry. She just hoped he would trust her enough in the future to explain what he meant. Secretly, she wished that it was because he was jealous. That he didn't want to hear about another man because he wanted to be that guy, her lover. It was a wild thought, a hopeless theory meant to be thrown out, but she could fantasize.

"Kakashi, we're still good? As friends and all? You'll go out with me and Gai another time then?"

He nodded, his lips quirking up into just a tiny smile. It was characteristic for her mind to go straight to the worst case scenario. He replied, "Of course. Like I said, it's not that bad. Don't worry about it."

"Okay. I'm glad. I really thought I messed up this time."

"I don't think there's anything you could do to make me hate you," he sighed, leaning his shoulder against his door frame. "The day I let you go is the day I die, Y/N."

She smiled, closing her eyes and finally taking a relaxed breath. It was done. He wasn't angry at all. He still cared for her and everything else she could hope for. As long as they could remain friends, it was all gonna be okay. She laughed, "That's what Gai said. Should have listened to him, huh?"

The both nodded and suddenly they were enveloped in a peaceful silence for a while. She stared down at her feet and he watched her quietly, admiring the way she could be so miserably shy yet so adorable at the same time.

"Do you wanna go catch dinner? Or uh, just drinks like we originally planned, if you want," he asked, running his hand through his hair. Her eyes brightened at the question, and he'd be stupid not to notice the new shine in them.

"Do you want to go find Gai first?"

"Actually, how about it just be you and me this time? We'll catch Gai tomorrow morning for breakfast instead."

"Two meals in two days...I'm not made of money."

"It's on me. Don't worry about it."

"Oh, jeez. So nice of you, Kakashi. Thank you! Where are we going?" she asked happily, walking up to him and rolling back in the balls of her feet.

"Wherever you want to go."

"I feel like I'm getting the special treatment. I'm so excited," she cheered, pulling him in the direction of the stairs by the edge of his sleeve.

He just smiled. It was all he could do. He had the most beautiful woman in the entire world in front of him ready to go on a not-exactly date. They were only friends, and she reaffirmed that today when she mentioned she was interested in someone else.

But for now he could pretend they were a thing. That they were dating and that she loved him and he could openly love her back. He would take her out to dinner and kick at her ankles under the table just to annoy her. And he would take a sip of her drink and pretend it was too sweet for him and watch as she struggled to drink a sip of his liquor.

And after he walks her home that night, he would hug her tight to his chest and he would think about kissing her, to pull down his mask for just a split second and press his lips to hers, but he would refrain. It just wasn't the right time. Maybe there would never be a right time either, and that was okay.

As long as they could have nights like these, as long as he would feel her in his arms, he was more than happy. He was in love.

Part Two is up.

#kakashi x reader #kakashi imagine #kakashi hatake x reader #kakashi one shot #naruto one shot #naruto imagines #naruto x reader #writing #one shot #x reader #kakashi #naruto #kakashi hatake #naruto fanfic

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blxetsi · 4 years

Note

Imagine pampering Reiner. I would love to kiss him silly 🙈 is it obvious he’s my favorite character?

id like to kiss him silly too 🤩🤚 tysm for the request !!!

pampering reiner after a long day (modern au)

warnings: taking care of ur man 😁👍 uhh construction worker!reiner (of age, obv), gn!reader, face care n shit idk, cute names like baby and love, mentions of sexual harrasment/assault in a workplace.

living in the city had it ups and downs. well, so did everything in life, but you never really thought about that until you moved into the city. you and reiner both came from a small town, and then went to the same college in a bigger town, before you two decided to move to the big city together. downs happened more often than ups, but anything was an up if you were with reiner. rent was expensive, especially for the shoebox of an apartment you two live in, but youve both made it into your home, a cozy little sanctuary away from the rest of this chaotic world. another down was that the city never sleeps, someone, somewhere was always working, and you too found yourself taking nightshifts at the diner you worked at. it was minimum wage, and middle aged men and women would come in and flirt (more like harass), but your coworkers were nice, and if you made sure to dress up a bit you'd get a fat tip.

you and reiner originally thought that you'd get well paying jobs as soon as you moved into the city, which was a lie. considering the time, effort, and money you both put into getting your degrees, you thought you were more than qualified for certain jobs, but you werent, and that sucked, and now your boyfriend over works himself physically building houses while you let freaks make weirdly sexual comments about you so you can earn more money. it sucks on both ends, but you know that you'd do anything to be with reiner, so you could take a couple of gropes and sleazy jokes.

today you had gotten off work early, your boss closing the store because of a family emergency. you felt bad for the man, he was nice, and offered to switch you to dish duty when he'd seen older people be weird with you, you'd declined knowing that you wouldn't earn as much in the back. he was a family man, and generous, and cared about others, which was a nice change from other employers in the past. you were surprised reiner wasn't home yet, because today was friday, and he usually got off fridays around six, but now it was almost nine, and you were starting to get a bit worried.

just as you started gnawing on your lip, your phone vibrated beside you. grabbing it you saw it was reiner calling you, and quickly paused your episode of shameless to answer. "rei, where are you ?"

"just got off work baby." he sighed.

he sounded exhausted, and you could hear cars honking so you knew he was outside.

"do you need me to come get you ?"

"no, its okay. jack's giving me a ride home."

you let out a breath, at least he didn't have to wait for the bus, getting a ride meant he'd be home faster. "okay my love. you want me to run you a bath for when you come home ?" you knew how sore reiner got from working, and being out in the sun all day. with the weather becoming warmer it would become harder on him, and he'd always forget to wear sunscreen which meant he'd burn.

he let out a soft moan. "that sounds great baby, thank you so much."

you heard talking from his end, assuming it was jack. you tried to keep listening but reiner's voice cut in again. "only ten more minutes and im back to you."

you smiled, getting excited that he'd be here so soon. "okay lovey, i'll get that bath started. i love you."

you could hear his smile on the other end. "i love you too baby, thank you so much."

you quickly said your goodbyes before hanging up, cutting him off. you felt a bit bad but quickly brushed it off as you walked to your bathroom. you got everything together, moving from the bathroom to your bedroom and back again. you set out a clean towel, a pair of sweats and a white tank top for him, as well as a hoodie if he was cold. you filled up the tub, making sure it was hot, before adding a cup of epsom salt and stirring it around with your hand. you got up again, going to the kitchen area of your little home and filling up a cup with a jug of cold water from the fridge. you brought it back to the small bathroom, sitting it on the tank cover of the toilet. he needed to be hydrated.

you were changing the sheets of your shared bed when you heard the from door open, close, then lock. reiner dropped his backpack and toed off his shoes. he hung up his jacket before slowly walking around the apartment, cracking his neck and stretching his arms above his head. "baby ? where are you ?"

"in here rei, just changing the sheets." you called out. you could hear his heavy footsteps make his way down the hall towards you.

he thought you looked beautiful. dressed in just a tee shirt (his tee shirt) and plaid pyjama pants, the lights from the city reflecting all around the room and on your body, a small lamp which casted a soft warm glow around the room, made your eyes shine.

"you don't have to change the sheets baby." he whispered, making his way over to you. he helped you put the comforter over the bed. a simple grey colour, which matched the baby pink sheets and pillow cases.

"i wanted to. you always feel good sleeping in new sheets." you answered, making your way around the bed to him. you wrapped your arms around his torso while he wrapped his around your shoulders, pulling you close and kissing your head. he sighed, and just held you while you rubbed his back.

"your bath is ready, and i left you clothes for you there too." you whispered. he hummed in response before squeezing you tighter.

"i missed you so much." his words were soft, but held a lot of weight, and your heart hurt because you knew he was working himself to the bone.

"it's okay baby, i'm here now."

he nodded before kissing your head again. he smelt your hair, sighing before pulling back to look at your face. "did you shower ?"

"when i got home, yeah."

"okay. i won't be long then."

you shook your head, moving your arms so you could hold his face in your hands. "no rei, take all the time you need. i'll wait for you." you knew that reiner was too tired to fight you on that, so he simply nodded, giving you a soft kiss before stripping down to his underwear and leaving the room.

you put his clothes in the hamper, putting his wallet on his bedside table and plugging his phone in to charge. then you opened up the window so the cool breeze could come in, you knew reiner liked the room to be a bit cooler at night.

slowly you made your way to the bathroom, peaking in to see him in the bath, the water up to his neck as he was almost fully submerged. his eyes were closed and his breathing was slow, you could see his tan lines from working. his muscles that bulged even when relaxed and the crinkles in his eyes from smiling so much, even when he was so young. his stuble which was just a bit darker than his sandy blond hair, and his calloused hands from his labour, wrapped around his torso in a hug. those hands that held you, that protected you, that tickled you, that loved you. you never got to admire reiner often, usually because he'd notice early on and tell you to stop, he'd get all flustered and his face would turn red, getting all blushy that his lover wanted to look at how beautiful he was. and he was, reiner was gorgeous, and its a blessing to call him yours.

his voice was raspy from not speaking for so long. "baby, stop looking at me like that." you could see the apples of his cheeks turn pink while his lips quirked up into a small.

"i can't help it, you're just so pretty." you replied, walking into the small bathroom and closing the door behind you. it took less than two steps to get towards him, and you crouched down beside the tub to look at him closer.

he slowly opened his eyes, like he was in a daze, before peeling an arm away from his body and holding it out for you to take. you grabbed his hand with both of yours, rubbing his palm and fingers while you softly kissed his knuckles. you two never looked away as you did so, relishing in the soft moment together.

he closed his eyes again, and sighed while moving deeper into the tub, making the water go from his neck to his chin, and his long legs stick out of the water at the knees. "you know that face mask you have baby ? the one that peels off and makes your face smooth ?" he asked, his voice echoing throughout the room.

"yeah," you mumbled against his hand. "you wanna use it ? want me to put it on for you ?"

he nodded. you slowly put his hand back into the water before crawling to the cabinet under the sink, reaching for your peel off face mask, you turned around and went back to your love, shifting as close as you could ger before the toilet got in the way, before opening the tube and squeezing some onto your hand. the clear gel felt cool on your finger tips, and you rubbed it along both pointer and middle finger on your two hands, before leaning over the side of the tub and rubbing some on his face. you made sure to keep it away from his facial hair and his eyebrows. after rubbing it in you rinsed your hands off in the bathwater, before moving them to hold reiner's hand again. "if you cant peel some if it off after its dry just rinse with warm water, okay ?" reiner nodded before squeezing your hand. "thank you baby."

you two sat in silence for a couple of minutes, just listening to each others breathing and the slight swish of the water. "i'm gonna make some tea, would you like any ?" you asked.

reiner shook his head. "i'll just steal a sip of yours."

you chuckled before kissing the back of his hand, a smile on your face. "okay my love, i'll wait for you in the bedroom."

he leaned over quickly, grabbing your face with his free hand and giving you a soft kiss, over and over again. his lips were a bit chapped, which caused your own to tickle, but to him it felt great. this was so domestic, so simple, it made him feel safe, it made reiner forget all about his horrible day. all he could think about was you, all he could feel was you.

because of your kiss some of the product from his face mask had transferred onto yours, causing him to giggle before wiping it away with his pruny hand. "i love you so much baby. i'm so happy to be with you." he whispered, his face millimetres from your own.

"thank you rei, i love you too." you responded. you loved him so much, you wanted to spend the rest of your life with him. and you're sure you will.

you pecked his lips before kissing his hand one more time, then you got up and left the bathroom, reiner's eyes on you as you went.

you went about tidying up the living room, putting away reiner's dinner on the table (if he didn't scarf it down when he came in, you knew he wouldn't touch it until tomorrow) turning off the tv and folding up the blanket you were snuggled up with on the couch almost an hour ago.

you quickly boiled your water for your tea, getting out your favourite mug and putting the tea bag in. then you went into your bedroom, where you moved through the open window to sit on the fire escape. the breeze of the night brought with it a chill, and you wished you'd brought that blanket with you. the lights and the cars moving down brought comfort to you. after living here for over a year, the noise became berable to you, just second nature.

you could hear faint shuffling inside the bedroom, before reiner's head popped out of the window. "i was looking everywhere for you."

you gave him a sheepish smile. "sorry my love, would you like to join me ?" he nodded and crawled out of the window too, which was a bit hard considering his long limbs. he sat down beside you, his skin looking soft and smooth, his hair wet and all dressed in his hoodie and sweats.

the two of you huddled together, watching people walk by and cars drive around, looking into the windows of other apartments and stores, seeing if you could see the people inside doing weird things. you two passed the mug of tea between each other, before all that was left was the wet tea bag at the bottom of the cup. reiner reached up and set it on the window sill, before pulling you into his side by your shoulders.

"do your muscles hurt still ?" you asked.

reiner shook his head before replying. "not anymore, thank you again for the bath."

you giggled, turning your head to look up at him, he looked down at your own head, resting on his shoulder, and matched the smile that painted your lips. "you don't have to thank me so much silly, i love taking care of you."

he rubbed his nose against your own. "i love taking care of you too. which is why i was thinking of looking for a new job."

your eyes opened again and he watched your reaction closely. "that tech company near downtown, they're looking for a new software developer. i've already set up an interview, i just didn't know when to tell you." he whispered.

your eyes lit up as you smiled again, leaning up and smacking kisses all over his face. he let out a loud laugh before cupping your face with his hand, guiding your head away from his own so he could speak, but you started talking before that could happen. "i'm so happy for you. i hate seeing you come home so tired and in pain."

he nodded. "and i hate seeing you come home with a new story of some creep making moves on the love of my life." he replied, giving you a soft kiss.

you two sat in silence again. reiner felt happy that you weren't upset about his idea for a new job, he had a degree, and a great mind, and he somehow knew he'd get this job.

"y'know," you started. "that new art museum that opened near the science centre, they're hiring too. said on their website they're looking for tour guides."

reiner pulled you closer to him, if that was even possible. "baby you'd be great at that. you know so many art things."

"'art things?'" you laughed. "yeah, maybe i'll call and see if i could get an interview."

reiner nodded. "that sounds great baby. but tomorrow, your tea made me so sleepy and now i just wanna sleep." you shook your head with a chuckle before pecking him on the lips again.

you two made your way inside, closed the window, and got ready for bed. while you put the mug back into the kitchen sink, reiner took off his hoodie and unfolded the comforter from the bed, ready to get under. when you came back inside you shut off the lamp and got in beside him, where reiner immediately pulled you into his chest.

your head rested on his bare pec, and you could hear his heart thumping. he was calm, content, and happy with you in his arms. and you two went to bed that night with dreams about your future together.

not me going overboard with that one 😁👍 anyways love u all stay safe requests r open 😍🙏

#attack on titan #attack on titan fanfiction #attack on titan x reader #reiner braun #reiner braun x gn!reader #reiner braun x reader #reiner braun headcanons #modern au #shingeki no kyoujin #shingeki no kyoujin x reader #shingeki no kyoujin imagine #attack on titan reiner #aot reiner #attack on titan requests

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smokahuntis · 3 years

Text

The beauty & the sith

Pairing: Darth maul x Jedi

Warnings: Canon details changed for plot purposes. Mentions of death. The battle of Naboo.

Summery: A tale as old as time. A young Jedi falls into the trap of a careless sith to protect her father.

Authors note: this will be a series, hopefully

“I’m going to the library, father” (y/n) said as she fixed her lightly colored robes and clipped her saber to her side. Her father, Qui-Gon, looked up at her from his scroll with a soft smile. (Y/n) was his only child, not his biological daughter, his niece rather. The Jedi let him take her in after the death of his sister, he raised her as his own along side Obi-Wan.

She was always so smart, so strong willed and compassionate. She was just like his sister and she reminded him of that every day. She reminded him of the brave women his sister was, and how much light she put in his life, and everyone she met. (Y/n) was just like her in every way. Especially in the color blue.

“Where did you get those robes?” He asked curiously as he closed his scroll, setting it aside.

“Oh- I found them in my chest” she smiled looking at him. Probably a gift from Obi-wan, she was used to getting things from him. (Y/n) never had a problem with Obi-wan, but she was definitely not interested in him. He was like a brother to her, but to him she was much more.

Qui-gon nodded and smiled softly “you look lovely in that color...be safe” he said standing up and kissing her head “stay away from boys” he teased her. She only shook her head and looked up at him.

“I don’t think any of the men in this temple will ever be a bother to me, father” she whispered as she tied her hair back into its ribboned braid.

“And they better stay that way, or I’ll have a long talk with the council” he said sternly as he held his hands together.

“What if they are members of the council?” She asked with a smirk, always having to question the things he says just to know the answer, never for real importance.

“Then I’ll speak to master today privately about the matter.” He said looking down at her.

“Whaaaat if it’s Master yoda?” She asked again. Her father only gave her a look before pushing her to the door gently.

“Go on, before someone takes what you’re looking for” he said as she giggled and walked out the door.

“Waaaait, I didn’t get to ask what you are doing today” she said as they now stood in the hall out side their temple apartment. He nodded and sighed.

“Yes that is important...” he said in a tone that made her look at him with worried eyes.

“What’s going on...” she whispered softly as she grabbed his hands.

“The boy we’ve saved, anakin... I believe our discovery of him has raised some attention... master yoda senses a disturbance coming... Obi-wan and I are the ones attending the matter” he informed her quietly so no others heard.

“Why didn’t you tell me I could help you-“ she started but he cut her off.

“You are not yet ready... please just go to the library... I’ll see you tonight for dinner” he smiled at her and kissed her head as she let out a heavy sigh. She knew not to argue with him on Jedi matters, yet she did it often. But something about the way he said it, she knew to leave it alone and go about her way.

(Y/n) was quiet as she made her way down to the library. Keeping her nose in her current books as she went, many people greeted her as she passed. Many whispered as she walked away. Always so quiet, so closed off. Except for the people she trusted, Obi-Wan, her father and now anakin. Even tho anakin was only a child, there was something about him she trusted, something familiar. She could never place it, but she didn’t care to much about it either.

“And what are you reading today?” Obi-wan hummed plucking the book from her hands as she came into the library. She looked up at him and reached for it quickly.

“Obi-wan!” She whined and tried to jump to grab it. He was so much taller then her , it was way to easy for him to hold things from her grasp.

“The fires of Dathomir?” He looked at her curiously. “Now why on earth would you be reading something like that?” He asked flipping three the pages, stopping on a academic drawing of the zabrak male. “And the only image is a naked man” he said handing it back to her.

“It’s to represent common tattoos of the Dathomorian people” she said in a matter-of-fact tone as she walked more into the library. Obi-wan on her heels as she went to put the book away. “Plus, I’m already finish with it, I was just reviewing it.” She said as she used the force to slip it back into its shelf.

“Did you pick that book because you were bored of because of Darth maul?” He asked leaning against the shelves as he looked down at her.

“Darth Maul?” She asked confused, her father knew her well enough to not mention the sith, she always had weird dreams about the sith. So anytime they had sith problems, unless it was necessary, he didn’t inform her.

“He didn’t tell you...” Obi-wan sighed “there was this Zabrak on Tatooine that attacked us, tried to get Padmé and take anakin... goes by Darth Maul” Obi-wan said softly.

“And no one told me till now?” She crossed her arms a little frustrated.

“I thought he would... it seemed necessary, I’m sorry sunflower I didn’t know” Obi-wan said trying to be calm about it, and calm her too.

“Tell me about him...” she said sitting down.

“About Darth Maul?” He asked as they sat down.

“No, about you” she said looking at him, a smirk grew in his face.

“Well-“

“Yes about Darth Maul” she cut him off before he could continue. Obi-wan shook his head and started talking about it and what happened on Tatooine. They sat there for awhile discussing the events before she realized.

“Aren’t you meant to be with my father?” She asked him as she grabbed a book about Zabraks.

“Well yes, but he had a meeting with the council I was told I wasn’t allowed to go to... so I figure I’d talk to you” Obi-wan said looking at the time.

“And how did you know where to find me?” She said flipping three pages.

“Where else would you be?” He answered before she stopped and glanced up at him.

“I go... other places” she started

“Like where?” He hummed lifting her chin.

“The... gardens” she said closing the book abruptly before someone came into the isle they were at.

“Obi-wan... master Qui-gon is looking for you” the younger twi’lek said with a kind smiled. “Good morning Miss Jinn” she hummed to (y/n) before walking away. (Y/n) looked up at Obi-wan and smiled.

“Good luck” she said letting him go before she went into her research.

It seemed like only minutes had passed as she read her books, but as she looked up the light peeking threw the large windows had become a burnt orange. The sun was setting fast over Coruscant, Barely giving her enough time to put her things into her bag before leaving. It wasn’t uncommon for her to forget time while reading. Some days she’s been in there till late at night.

As she made her way threw the temple she started to feel this strange ache in her head. Unlike anything she’d felt before. Longing, that’s what it felt like. Like being lost in a crowd of people, only searching for one person that you just can’t find. And that’s what she was doing, before even noticing it she was running threw the temple to find the source of this feeling.

She started to become warm, the feeling in her chest, her stomach. The anxiety, the force guiding her, she didn’t know what was happing next she just knew she needed to get to it. Wherever it was. Her feet guided her, her brain on hyperdrive before she found herself in the shipping bay. Frozen as she finally found the source of this emotion, her father. Fighting against a sith she had never known. The description only matching that to Darth Maul.

She couldn’t get passed the red chambers fast enough, she couldn’t reach him in time. The piercing heat of the saber went threw her father with in second before the zabrak noticed her. The sob escaping her throat alerting him of her presents as he pulled away from the Jedi master. The red barriers fell and she was quickly at Qui-Gon’s side.

In this moment she didn’t care about the sith, she only wanted to hold her father. “No- no - dad” she whimpered picking up his head and setting it on her lap. “Please look at me” she whimpered as his eyes opened weakly and face turned to a grin.

“I knew you’d find me...” he whispered. “I... I needed to see you.. one last time” she whispered reaching his hand uo to her face. She let out a sob as she leaned into his touch

“It was you- you brought me here...” she whispered as he nodded.

“I needed you to see this... I needed you to be here” he whispered as his touch began to tremble.

“Why...” she grabbed his hand

“Because I love you... I need you to know that...you’re- you’re my daughter and I love you” he whispered as he closed his eyes.

The barriers flashed again as Obi-wan entered the room. Maul was quick to grab (y/n) uo from the floor and hold his scorching blade to her neck.

“Him or her” he growled in such a deep tone it vibrated her back. She could feel his warm skin threw their robes.

“No- no” obi-wan grabbed his masters saber but she stopped him.

“No! Save him!” (Y/n) cried. “Please Obi-wan!” She looked at him as tears streamed down her face. Something about maul felt familiar, and she trusted that enough to put her life on it. “Take him to the infirmary! I’ll be okay! Please!” She cried looking at them. Maul’s grip on her hit tighter as she spoke. A deep chuckle came from his throat and right into her ear.

“So compliant... it’s like you want to be taken” he purred before looking at Obi-Wan “you heard her... take him” he growled again before Obi/ wan picked up his master and looked at (y/n)

“I’ll save you” he said reassuringly.

“Save him first!” She yelled at him before he ran off to help Qui-Gon.

That moment set the markings for the rest of her life with the amber eyes sith. Fear racked threw her body like it owned its every cell. But his warm comforted it like a warm blanket. It made her uneasy, her mind already in a panic as Maul drug her to his ship. She didn’t speak or sob, she just froze.

She didn’t say anything to him as he hauled her up to his ship. Setting her down on the passenger seat and strapping her into it.

“Don’t move” he said sternly as she looked up at him. The only response she could conjure up was a whimper. He just shook his head and started the ship quickly “you’re pathetic...” he mumbled before the ship roared to life and took off. All she could think about was that

She gave her life to a zabrak.

Tag list: @a-dorin @localnightmare13 @botherbother-blog @jayden-rose-leon @randomfangirl7 @syncopated-beet @two-black-leviathans @zamoragoddess

I currently do not have a Darth Maul tag list so if you want to be apart of this series or Darth Maul all together just let me know

#star wars #star wars x reader #darth maul x reader #darth maul #darth maul fluff #darth maul smut #the beauty and the beast

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novelconcepts · 4 years

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fic: walking with the lady

Every movie, every book, every story about the horrors of letting in the ghosts has prepared Dani for the constant state of alarm. The panic. The discomfort of the situation.

Not a single goddamn one told her how stupid it would be.

***

The first time Viola Lloyd rears her spectral head outside of a dream, Dani is doing her best to enjoy an incredibly pleasant spring morning. She’s been having strange thoughts--strange echoes of night terrors that have been escalating, images weaving as though shot from the depths of some great ocean--for a few months now. Has been trying her very best to take Jamie’s advice and not worry about it. One day at a time. Stop gazing into every reflective surface in the county and just...live.

And she’s been doing that, she thinks, with a decent amount of peaceful abandon for a woman carrying an unknown beast in the depths of her psyche. She’s traveled. She’s seen much of America, and more of Jamie. She’s learned she’ll never get any better at tea, that she’s honestly not terrible at pasta, that she can talk the ear off old women who just want to stop and smell the flowers. It’s been a serene six, seven, eight years, if she lays them all end to end, and she’s glad of it.

But the dreams are coming faster now. With more regularity. Long stretches of night fade into black and white, into memories she can feel with her whole body, but knows aren’t her own. Corsets and sweeping skirts, a sister she never had, a husband. A child. None of this belongs to Dani, so it must be her, mustn’t it?

It scares her. She talks about it to Jamie when she wakes--sometimes in the morning, sometimes in the middle of the night; whether she’s truly awake or not, Jamie always listens. They always hunker back down, holding tight to one another, Jamie whispering into her hair that you’re still here, you’re still you, it’s all okay, Poppins. It helps, as much as anything’s going to.

What doesn’t help is sitting here on this park bench, a list of shopping plans open in her lap, and hearing--hearing isn’t even the right word for it, it’s like a ringing voice coming up from the very back of her head--someone say, “And what on earth is that?”

Dani sits straight upright, every line of her body rigid with fear. “What...is what?”

She’s said the words out loud, she realizes when an elderly man with a basket of stale bread turns slowly to look at her. Her mouth twists itself into a rictus grin of apology, and he shuffles off, looking very much like a man prepared for his own murder at the hands of a lunatic schoolteacher.

“Well,” the voice says, coolly amused. “That was embarrassing for us both.”

What, Dani thinks, the fuck is going on?

“What’s going on,” Viola Lloyd’s deep, accented voice says, “is truly beyond my knowledge. Do you know the last time I had this many thoughts of my own? Must have been...oh, three hundred years, now...”

Why, Dani thinks furiously, are you having them now?

“I certainly couldn't say.” Viola sounds astonished. “The last I recall, I was trying to reclaim my child--”

Flora, Dani interrupts with a rush of anger, was not your child.

She imagines she can feel Viola’s hand flip to and fro, carelessly. “It’s all apples in the end, isn’t it?”

She’s clenching her fists in her lap, she realizes, as if there’s anything to fight. As if she could ward Viola off from inside her own body.

“Oh,” Viola says coolly, “I wouldn’t worry just yet. I couldn’t say for sure--it’s all rather new, you must understand--but I don’t think I could do anything to you. Not yet. Look, here, I’ll try...”

Dani’s muscles strain against an invisible force that never comes. Viola chuckles.

“See? Nothing. The lights are on, my dear, but none but you is really home.”

Then why are you awake? Dani demands.

“Not a clue, darling. It’s nice, though, isn’t it? You really take it for granted in life.”

Take what for--

“Seeing,” Viola breathes. “I haven’t seen anything properly in centuries. I’d forgotten how bright the world was. How full of...color.”

Is it Dani’s imagination, or does Viola’s tone hold an edge of disgust on that final word?

“So, again, I find myself asking. What on earth do you call that?”

Dani allows instinct to turn her head, somehow sensing the direction Viola wishes for her to look. She finds herself staring at a young child playing at her mother’s feet.

I--it’s... And it’s here, in this moment, faced with the nearly impossible task of explaining to the 400-year-old ghost woman who shares her body what a Slinky is for that Dani Clayton decides this whole cohabitation thing might have been a mistake.

***

“Hang on,” Jamie says. “Hang on, she’s awake in there?”

Dani, folded nearly double on their couch with her face in her hands, nods. Her head is pounding. Viola has been, ah, what’s the polite way to put it? Running her mouth. For nearly four hours.

“She’s got some...opinions,” Dani mumbles into her cupped hands. Jamie stops rubbing light circles into her back, curious.

“About what?”

“Might be a shorter list, to ask what she doesn’t have an opinion about,” Dani says. At the back of her head, she feels Viola cross her arms.

“This sounds like you are on the path to impudence, Miss Clayton.”

“But hang on, I thought--” Jamie seems to be choosing her words carefully. “I thought she was just sort of...in there. Tucked away, like the kids said. What do you mean she can see?”

Dani blows out a long breath, wishing dearly for a cigarette. “I don’t know, Jamie, I’m not the authority on carrying Victorian women around in my skull.”

“Bit nearer to it than me, Poppins.” Jamie’s smiling, plainly trying to make her feel better. Dani turns to glower at her.

“I love you very much. Please don’t test me right now. She hasn’t stopped talking for more than twenty minutes all afternoon.”

Jamie raises her hands in surrender. “Can she...can she see me now?”

“Tell her,” Viola says. “Tell her I can see her, and her mannishly-inappropriate hairstyle.”

“I will not be saying that,” Dani mutters. Jamie raises an eyebrow.

“Are you having a conversation now? What’s she saying?”

“Please let her know I find her insistence upon men’s trousers silly at best, her blouses are entirely too loose, and I am bewildered by the wealth of ankle she seems to find appropriate in mixed company--”

“She says you have a nice smile,” Dani says. Jamie’s eyebrows raise to her hairline. Viola makes a horrible little noise of revulsion.

“How dare you place words in my mouth!”

“You are absolutely not telling me the truth, are you?” Jamie says in the same moment. Dani groans.

“Aspirin. I am going to need so much aspirin.”

***

It’s not all the time, thankfully; Dani thinks she’d go mad if Viola were truly there at all hours, yammering away about silks and petticoats and the good old days when a person could just drop dead of the plague with no notice. Sometimes, Viola even goes days at a stretch without saying a word, as though she’s sunk back to sleep in whatever little corner of Dani’s mind she calls a bedroom.

And then, like a thunderstorm, she emerges once more. Usually with something snappy and irritating to share with Dani.

“Are we really wearing that?”

“There is no we, Viola,” Dani grumbles. She’s in the process of trying to choose between a flower-patterned dress and a denim vest, unable to gauge what kind of day it’s going to be when she steps out of the closet and into the chaos. Business has been booming down at The Leafling, which is wonderful, but more than a little overwhelming. And Jamie, god love her, has taken to watching Dani when she thinks Dani won’t notice, always with this worried little crease between her eyes.

It’s making her crazy, if she’s honest about it. Jamie isn’t the worrier in the relationship, and watching her slip into the role is making Dani feel worse about the whole situation. She needs Jamie to tell her it’s all fine, it’s all perfectly all right, they’re going to make it through this new weirdness together no problem.

“My dear, we became a we the night you said the magic words,” Viola says, a bit pettily. “Or have you forgotten me already?”

“How,” Dani grits out, “on earth am I supposed to forget you? Feel like I spend every day just...waiting for you to spring up and ask some idiotic question about cars or airplanes or deodorant--”

“For a schoolteacher, you surely lack for patience, Miss Clayton.”

Dani closes her eyes, searching for strength. Her hands grope, landing on dress and vest and yanking them free. “You know what? Both. We’re doing both today.”

“We most certainly are not! Not even a glove to be found? And again with the florals! We’ve been over how tacky the florals are, Miss Clayton. Miss Clayton, are you listening?”

“No,” Dani says decisively, wriggling into the layers and looking around for her chunkiest pair of earrings.

“You are the scandal of the town, Miss Clayton,” Viola sniffs.

***

“Does she, ah...watch when we do this?”

Dani groans. They’d been having such a nice evening--an old movie fading slowly into wandering hands, Jamie’s mouth making its way down her neck, Jamie’s fingers slipping beneath the hem of her shirt and tickling her ribs. She’d just flipped Jamie onto her back, was just looking to remove the deeply inconvenient articles of cloth between them, when Jamie pressed a palm lightly against her chest.

“Not trying to be weird about it,” Jamie says, breathless. Her eyes are dark and heavy; though she’s stopped Dani moving closer, one of her legs has wound around Dani’s hip, easing her in. It’s giving Dani the worst kind of mixed message, to say the least.

“Would you like us to put this sort of thing on hold until I find a way to exorcise the demon from my head, Jamie?”

“I did not say that. I decidedly said nothing of the kind.”

Dani lets her head fall forward, covering Jamie’s face in a fall of blonde. “Sorry. That was snippy. I just...I don’t know the answer. She’s...” She tilts her head, eyes shut, searching. “Quiet. For now.”

Jamie brushes her hair back, cups the side of her face, thumb moving in a slow arc across her cheekbone. “S’all right then. Can’t blame me being curious, can you? I mean, it’s not every day you find a third party sneaks into your bed.”

Dani leans into the soft stroke of her hand, sighing. “I don’t like it, either, you know. She’s so...judgey. I hadn’t realized ghosts could be judgey.”

“What’s she judging?” The hand on her chest slides, gripping a fistful of her shirt, pulling her toward Jamie. Dani sighs again, letting Jamie kiss her with the soft determination of someone apologizing for stopping this train in the first place.

“Me,” she murmurs against Jamie’s lips. “You.”

“Me?” Jamie sounds affronted. “What’s there to judge about me, I’m a bloody peach.”

Dani laughs, bites her lower lip until Jamie groans. “It’s not anything personal. It’s just...the whole world is so different from what she remembers. There’s TV, jean shorts, women out there having jobs and lives without consent of their husbands...for her, it must be the Wild West.”

“Judges what she doesn’t understand, is that it?” Jamie is doing an admirable job of pretending to still be invested in this conversation, even as her hands are making short work of Dani’s sweatpants. Dani sucks in a breath.

“I guess. Yeah. Can’t blame her for that, really.”

Jamie mulls this over, fingers tracing hipbone. Her nails bite gently into soft skin. “Does she judge us for this, I wonder?”

“Do you care?”

“Not,” Jamie says, twisting her hand and bringing their mouths together hard, “in the least.”

***

“Put it out the window.”

“I am not putting it out the window, Viola.”

“Down a flight of stairs, then! What in all cosmic reaches of hell is this for, if not throwing it somewhere it can never harm another soul again!”

Dani exhales through her nose, slowly, embracing every meditative memory of dealing with errant children. “I am not,” she says slowly to the empty apartment, “going to throw my television anywhere. And I'd really appreciate it if you’d stop making that suggestion every time I turn it on.”

“You are letting your soul rot from the inside out with this filth!” Viola is all but shrieking. Dani imagines her pacing back and forth, back and forth, her hands wild. “Your moral fiber, Miss Clayton. What of your moral fiber?”

“If MTV rots away one’s moral fiber,” Dani says, as calmly as she knows how, “then I suspect we’re all lost causes, anyway.”

Viola is silent for such a long time, Dani thinks she’s done the trick. She turns her attention back to the laundry she’s been folding to the tune of Janet Jackson. Her head bobs gently in time as the videos shuffle past--Madonna, Michael, Paula, George. Then, with the hour change, newer fare. She’s still getting around to some of these artists, still trying to work out how she feels about them.

"Did you hear that?” Viola seethes. “What was that about an anaconda? Is this man suggesting we feed a woman to snakes? What barbarism do your people accept in this age?”

Dani folds a pair of Jamie’s socks with such deliberate care, she nearly forgets to breathe while doing it.

“Moral fiber,” Viola hisses. “Moral fiber is wasted on this age of nudity and...and...hammertime.”

Dani finds herself desperately invested in ironing the wrinkles out of a pair of jeans with her hand until Viola goes quiet again.

***

“You could have such nice hair,” Viola croons. “Such nice hair, if you would only put them away...”

“They’re convenient,” Dani says, scraping her hair back into a pink scrunchie. Viola makes a noise of disgust.

“They’re abhorrent. Honestly, your time and its...fashions. What do you call this?”

She’s gesturing toward the bathroom counter, to the little basket that holds all the hair supplies. Dani sighs.

“It’s a headband, Viola. We like headbands. They keep the hair out of our eyes.”

“There are other ways. Fine hats. Lovely veils. Why don’t you own any lovely veils, Dani, do you want the common folk seeing your every decision in your eyes?”

Dani reaches for the hairspray. Behind her, Jamie bustles in with shirt half-buttoned, suspenders swinging around her thighs. Viola makes another catty little noise.

“Any news?” Jamie asks, reaching around for a hairbrush and kissing Dani’s cheek.

“She doesn’t like scrunchies,” Dani reports. “And she’s started calling me Dani.”

Jamie frowns. “Good sign or bad?”

“Impossible to guess.”

“Tell her you want some veils,” Viola says sweetly. “And for her to learn the value of a fine skirt.”

Dani, ignoring this, reaches around the back of Jamie’s neck and pulls her into a searing kiss. Jamie drops the hairbrush with a clatter, leaning Dani back against the counter and gripping the small of her back like she’s suddenly forgotten they’re both late for work.

When they break apart, they’re both flushed, Dani giggling into the underside of Jamie’s jaw, Jamie’s eyes glazed. In the back of her mind, she hears Viola sigh.

“That is truly childish, you know.”

***

It’s kind of an accidental habit, punishing her inner ghost for bad behavior by channeling her frustrations into sex. She couldn’t explain it if she tried, except to say Viola does tend to shut up when Dani’s properly distracted. Maybe it’s just the way the connection works, thinner when Dani isn’t willing to give it energy. Maybe Viola’s embarrassed. Either way, a year after Viola first speaks, her life with Jamie burns hotter than it ever has.

It’s best when Viola is trying to run her mouth over Jamie’s fashion sense, she’s noticed. It is, in fact, the only way to shut Viola up about the aforementioned fashion sense. Which Dani intellectually understands; coming up from a world 400 years away, where women dressed in endless layers and a person’s value was often found in the shine of her jewels and the rich fabric of her skirts, slamming face-first into the 1990s must have been a trip. Truly, Viola is lucky Dani didn’t cart her out of that lake earlier. If she thinks scrunchies are bad, she should have seen the heyday of shoulder pads.

Honestly, though, the worst thing is listening to Viola trill on about how much better Jamie could look if she’d only bow to the whims of femininity. Jamie, whose primary word on fashion has always been “can I dig a hole in this?” is perfect just the way she is. In fact, as the years go on and her jeans grow cuffs, her shorts grow shorter, her tops crop midway up her stomach, Dani thinks the world is finally suiting Jamie instead of the other way around.

“She’s prancing around for the world to see--”

“It’s ninety-six degrees out,” Dani says in a low voice. She understands these conversations with Viola can be internalized, but she tends to wind up wearing this distant expression every time, and Jamie can spot it a mile off. Best to just mutter aloud in the sanctity of their own home.

“She’s walking her wares up and down the block,” Viola rages on. “Not a shawl to be seen!”

“Jamie,” Dani calls from the kitchen, “have you ever in your life worn a shawl?”

“That’s, uh, one of those blankets with the fringy bits, yeah?” Jamie calls back. She’s bent over the air conditioning unit, trying to coax life into the old girl. The cropped line of her black t-shirt rides up her back, revealing glistening skin. Dani tips her head to enjoy the view. “I’ll pass on account of any blanket in this heat being like to kill me.”

“Best not to test it,” Dani agrees. Viola heaves the longest-suffering sigh Dani’s ever heard.

“It doesn’t bother you in the least, your woman out there, where anyone could see her...her bare stomach!”

“One,” Dani says coolly, “she’s my girlfriend, not my woman. Two, I’ve never once tried to dictate her clothing, and I’m not stopping because a dead woman insists. Three, I happen to like it.”

“Like what?” Jamie strolls back to her, pushing sweaty hair off her forehead with a sigh. She stops a few inches away, rocking back and forth on her heels like she wants nothing more than to close the distance despite the mind-numbing heat.

“Viola is commenting upon your more risqué clothing choices.”

“What? This?” Jamie grasps the exceedingly high-cut hem of her shirt and tugs it gently upward, teasing. “What’s her problem with all this?”

“It’s on display, evidently.”

“As it should be,” Jamie says almost primly. “I’m a fine specimen to behold. Learn to enjoy it, love, it’ll be faster than trying to change the view.”

This last, she says in a slightly louder voice, as though speaking to the shadow behind Dani’s eyes. She’s grinning, and Dani has time to think how strange it is, how quickly they’ve learned to accommodate Viola’s appearances into their conversations--Jamie has taken to leaving beats between her sentences, allowing for Dani to process two people speaking at once--before Jamie is wrapping both arms around her and lifting her off the floor. She squeals in surprise, delight turning to desire as Jamie licks a bead of sweat from her neck.

“Not again,” Viola sighs. “You’ll wake the whole village.”

“Apartment,” Dani corrects, catching Jamie by the jaw and kissing her hungrily. It’s too hot for this, probably, but she can’t quite remember how to care when Jamie pulls free of her grasp and slides to her knees, taking Dani’s skirt with her.

“It’s a nightmare, regardless.”

***

Eventually, Viola proves herself capable of learning a thing or two. Namely, that she is welcome to run commentary on anyone in the world except for Jamie.

Even old ghosts can learn new tricks, apparently, although it takes a number of months, a great deal of sex, and one memorable weekend in which--upon Viola raging over every article in Jamie’s side of the closet for half an hour--Dani simply removed the option of clothing from Viola’s sight altogether.

“This,” Jamie panted, both of them on the floor with a sheet draped over their tangled limbs, “is working for me in the weirdest way, Poppins.”

“I think she’s really starting to hate me,” Dani said conversationally, even as her fingers slipped between Jamie’s legs yet again. Jamie’s hips rose to meet her, one hand burying itself in her hair.

“Well, that makes one of us, doesn’t it?”

***

Not commenting on Jamie, naturally, does nothing to stop Viola talking about every other goddamn thing in the world.

“We’re going to have to have a long talk about not shaming women for their bodies, you know,” Dani tells her one afternoon. Viola has been tearing a young woman to pieces over her short skirt, furious that someone so pristine could soil herself with such impunity. Dani must be getting used to this in the weirdest way possible, because this kind of floral language is starting to feel second-nature.

“I would never shame anyone,” Viola protests. “I am simply stating fact. Men do not value women as it is, and while we may win their games, we get nowhere at all if we do not play them.”

“This isn’t a game, Viola, it’s her life. Her body. She can do whatever she likes with it.”

“But I want her to succeed,” Viola insists. There’s an almost disconcerting eagerness to the words. She really truly believes what she’s saying. “A woman viewed as nothing more than a strumpet will have an even more difficult time securing a dowry, and then where will she be?”

“In college?” Dani suggests blithely. “Traveling? Living isn’t just for men, Viola, I know you know this. You refused the oath of obedience on your wedding day.”

“Of course it’s not for men’s sake alone, but when the law--”

“The law is different here,” Dani says, almost gently. “Has been for a long time. Or haven’t you noticed how well Jamie and I get along without a man to be found?”

Viola’s silence stretches so long, Dani’s sure she’s either gone back to sleep or is finally choosing this moment to let the ugly banner of homophobia unfurl. She’s been waiting for this moment for years, it seems, waiting for the ghost in her head to mimic her mother on the one and only occasion she attempted to send home a letter.

“You’re different,” Viola says at last, very softly. Dani blinks.

“Pardon?”

“You’re different,” Viola repeats. “Jamie is your forever. Does that young girl have her forever, Miss Clayton?”

“Well--I don't know, I don’t suppose it’s my business--”

“Perhaps she will find it in one like our Jamie,” Viola says impatiently. “But perhaps she will find instead the stones of men who have not, over four centuries, really changed all that much. Is it so wrong of me, to have a mother’s care for that?”

Dani doesn’t know how to answer. Doesn’t have the first idea, when faced with a Viola who is not simply catty for cattiness’ sake, but genuine. She opens and closes her mouth a few times, unable to find argument.

“We just. We just don’t pick on girls for what they do with their bodies, all right? It’s...it’s cruel, and it isn’t necessary.”

Viola sighs. “Fine. But we still ought to discuss the pattern choices. Those polka dots are not flattering in the least.”

It’s only later, watching Jamie chop carrots for dinner, that Dani realizes Viola had said our. Our Jamie.

“Oh sweet Christ,” she mumbles.

***

The change is slow. Subtle. If not for the fact of carrying this woman in her head, Dani’s not sure she even would have noticed.

“She what?” Jamie looks up from the plant she’s tending, fingernails grimed with soil, wedding ring carefully strung upon a thick chain around her neck until she can clean up again. “She...sorry, what?”

“I can’t be sure,” Dani muses. “It sounds...crazy. But I think she’s starting to like you.”

“Well, sure,” Jamie laughs. “I’m a deeply likable human being. But this is the Lady, yeah? Same one who dragged Peter fucking Quint to his death? Same one who thinks I show too much skin?”

“I’m...not convinced she thinks that anymore.” It’s really hard to say for sure. On the one hand, it’s possible Viola has shut up about Jamie’s shorn sleeves and shorts because every time she mentioned either, Dani made it her personal life’s mission to make sure Jamie never wore anything else around the house. On the other...

“I think she looked at your butt the other day.”

Jamie raises her eyes slowly, brow furrowing. “Can she do that? Turn your eyes to something you weren’t already looking at?”

“No,” Dani says, a bit stiffly, all too aware of stepping into the trap. Jamie grins.

“Thought not.”

“But it was different,” Dani presses on through flushing cheeks. “I mean--even if I was already looking, she was--I mean--she--”

She doesn’t know how to explain it. How the rumble in her chest, already so familiar at the sight of Jamie puttering around their home, had seemed to expand until it encompassed all of her. How it was like someone had turned the heat in the room to its breaking point.

“I can just tell, okay?” she says, aggrieved. “She looked at your butt, and she liked it.”

Jamie makes a thoughtful face, brushing dirt off her hands with slow, deliberate motions. “So...what you’re saying is...your personal ghostie has a crush on your wife?”

Dani presses her face against the counter, letting the cool metal relieve her blush. “Shit. Yeah. I think she might.”

“This is,” Jamie says triumphantly, pressing up against Dani from behind and kissing the back of her neck, “the funniest thing that has ever happened, by a country goddamn mile.”

***

A series of events, cascading in short order, that Dani almost actually feels bad about. If one could feel guilty about putting strain on one’s personal-pan Casper.

The Britney Spears video, for one. Viola still does not like music videos--or music, frankly, unless it involves a ridiculous number of flutes and orchestral swells--but she’s grown to tolerate them. Mostly.

That is, until Britney sways onscreen in a plaid skirt and schoolgirl pigtails.

“Fuck,” Dani gasps, hand coming down hard against her own breastbone. It’s like someone grabbed the dial on her blood pressure and cranked it all the way up. That someone, she suspects, being the dead woman who has been more and more present of late.

“I--I cannot--I simply am not capable of understanding--” Viola sounds like she’s short-circuiting. “I know we are not meant to comment, but what on earth is she doing?!”

“Dancing,” Dani says sharply, trying to coax her breathing back down. Is this what a stroke feels like? Is her fucking ghost roommate giving her an actual stroke? “Viola, you’ve seen dancing.”

“She is so young! She is a child! Who is protecting this person from the world?” Viola is furious. Viola is exploding. Dani sort of wonders if her chest is going to explode, too.

“She’s...a pop star. This is what they get paid lots and lots of money to do.” It’s a bad answer, she knows. These videos make her a little uncomfortable too, when she thinks on them too long. But Viola? Viola’s rage is a towering beast of a thing. For a minute, lungs scraping at the air, Dani is genuinely afraid this is the point where the switch flips. Where she finds herself staring at the room from the back of her own head.

“Someone,” Viola says in a low, terrible voice, “must protect these children.”

It takes almost an hour to calm her down. Dani doesn’t turn MTV back on for a while after that.

***

“The. The moon?” The opposite end of the emotional spectrum this time. If Viola had been nearly apoplectic over Britney’s choreography, she now sounds faint.

“You should have floated that a bit more softly,” Dani tells Jamie, who looks confused.

“Float what, all I did was mention NASA--”

“The moon,” Viola repeats. “We have seen. The moon.”

“She’s having trouble with the moon landing,” Dani says. Jamie waves her hands helplessly.

“Poppins, I have trouble understanding the geography of Texas, we all have problems.”

“We have,” Viola breathes, “stepped foot. Upon. The moon.”

Dani pours herself another large glass of wine.

***

“How’s this, then?” Jamie gives a very small, somewhat self-conscious twirl. “Too much? Too little? Too, ah, revealing, as the ghost contingent might say?”

Dani, leaning against the bedroom wall, can’t quite find the words. Viola, too, is conspicuously silent.

“It’s bad,” Jamie says, nodding fervently. “Yeah, y’know, I think I knew it when I picked it up. Better on the sales rack, as they say. I can just...if you wouldn’t mind popping the zip real quick...”

“Yes, Dani,” Viola says quietly. “Pop the zip.”

“You don’t even know what that means,” Dani hisses. Jamie raises an eyebrow.

“What’s that?”

“It’s not bad,” Dani says quickly, ignoring the little harrumph Viola utters. “It’s very not bad. Opposite of bad, really.”

Relief floods Jamie’s face. The dress is low cut in a way very little of her clean-up clothes are, with a slit running clear up the leg. Patterned in burgundy petals, the black velvet is stark against her pale skin.

“I won’t get run out of the convention, then? Only they said there’s a bit about drinks and networking, and it was just shy of black-tie. I could do that instead. Get a black tie. Think I’d look nice in a black tie.”

“The dress,” Viola says in a low, conspiratorial voice. “Tell her it is a nice dress.”

“It’s a nice dress,” Dani repeats with comic dazedness. “Best dress I’ve ever seen, maybe.”

“And now,” Viola says soothingly, “you go to her. Walk confidently now, shoulders back, chin up--”

“Are you...wing-man-ing me toward my own wife?”

“Seduction requires confidence, Dani.”

“What’s she saying?” Jamie’s face has gone a curious mix of apprehensive and amused. Dani swallows.

“Seduction requires confidence, evidently.”

A slow grin spreads across Jamie’s face. Dani raises a hand, finger extended.

“Don’t. Don’t make that smug face.”

“What’s smug about it?” She’s moving across the room, arms already reaching. “This is my very natural expression, I’ll have you know. The most normal expression in the world for a woman whose wife is being told to undress her by the ancient rage-ghost sharing her body.”

“Our lives,” Dani says helplessly, already pressing herself flush against Jamie, “are different than other people’s lives.”

“Yes,” Jamie agrees in a low voice, sliding the sweater over Dani’s head. “Can’t find it in me to complain, though, can you?”

***

It’s weird, almost. Weirder, that it’s almost not. That the beast in the jungle, the creature Dani spent nearly a decade dreading, has pounced at last and...mostly, she just seems to want to see Dani happy.

Jamie finds it hilarious, in that pretend-callous way Jamie has of smoothing over genuine concern with soft laughter. She doesn’t like Dani sharing her mental space with someone at all hours, Viola popping up like a wack-a-mole game on high. But, if Dani must share the space with anyone, at least--

“It’s someone who thinks I'm gorgeous.”

“You are gorgeous,” Dani replies, a bit exasperated. “Gorgeous, silly, perfect person. But my inner ghost has a crush on you, that isn’t strange for you?”

“Poppins, my life has been strange since a doe-eyed American strolled into it and told me she still saw her dead fiancé when we kissed.” Jamie reclines on the bed in a sleep shirt and underwear, hands playing lightly with the pillowcase beneath her head. “Strange is my bread and butter these days, and if I had to sacrifice you to have it any other way, we both know how it would go.”

Dani makes a mulish sound under her breath. Jamie cups a hand to her ear.

“Say again?”

“It’s weird,” she repeats, arms crossed over her chest. “She’s weird. I always thought she’d do something bad--walk me off a roof, or strangle someone to death, or try to rob a convenience store. But mostly she just wants to protect young girls from an uncaring world and look at your butt in the shower.”

“That is...very specific,” Jamie says lightly. Dani shakes her head.

“It’s so bizarre. The longer this goes on, the more she sees of the world, it’s like...like she’s getting more real. More Viola, less Lady.”

Jamie sits up, hand sliding to rest high on Dani’s thigh as if to shield her from harm. “But not more solid, right? Not taking up space you already rent?”

Dani shakes her head. “That’s the thing. She doesn't feel like she’s taking over. And it feels...like she should.”

“You want her to?”

“No, no, of course not.” Dani raises Jamie’s knuckles to her lips, raining soft kisses up and down her hand until the tension goes out of her brow. “I just don’t understand what’s happening. This isn’t...what I expected.”

Jamie exhales, shifting her weight until she’s sitting in Dani’s lap. She takes a Dani’s face between her hands, kisses her long and slow until Dani eases back against the headboard.

“This is good, Poppins. You’re a good influence. You were on those kids, and on me, and now on this Lady of yours. Maybe that’s all a ghost needs, deep down.”

Dani leans into her, lets the rhythm of kiss and gentle bite and hands slipping beneath her clothes carry her away for a while. Still, no Viola, and she’s grateful. She doesn’t like to think how that would feel, Viola popping up while Jamie’s curling her fingers deep, groaning soft against her shoulder. There is a time and a place for hauntings, and time with Jamie is something else entirely.

She’s pretty sure Viola even respects that. Which is, like everything else, incredibly strange.

***

Viola attends their second wedding. Their real wedding. It’s bizarre on a level Dani isn’t prepared to deal with, feeling her surface as the plans become reality. Jamie’s got flowers, naturally, and Owen’s catering, and Henry has the kids--who are kids no longer, but fully-formed people with lives of their own--running errands on the day. And Dani...

Dani is looking at herself in a wedding dress for the second time in her life, only this time, she can breathe.

“You are radiant,” Viola says. Dani closes her eyes for a moment, steels herself.

“Nothing else to say? No notes?”

“You chose wisely,” Viola says. Dani sighs.

“I figured lace was classic, and someone told me I had nice shoulders once, so--”

“The dress is beautiful,” Viola says. “But I was not talking about your grooming for the day.”

Dani gives a shaky laugh. “I love her, you know. I really do.”

“I can tell.” A beat of silence. Then: “I did not understand at first. Her. Or you. I suppose I will never understand completely. But...I understand the depths of what you feel. It is a part of me, too, I think. That devotion, sinking into all the spaces where I had forgotten.”

“You’re in love with Jamie, too?” Dani asks, not really wanting the answer. Viola laughs.

“Yes. And no. You and I are intertwined, Miss Clayton. What you feel, I feel, to a degree. More importantly, I have seen your life with her. The life you build with the reckless joy of two people doomed one day to die.”

“Thanks,” Dani says, a bit sharply. She senses Viola putting her hands up, a terribly-modern gesture of surrender.

“You understand what I mean. It takes courage, to love this completely. To do so while carrying a burden neither of us can truly comprehend is...something else altogether. There is a strength there I could not have understood on my most willful of days.”

“You turned Death away at your own doorstep,” Dani points out, smiling. Viola is pleased.

“I did, didn’t I? And I could never regret it, even now. But you. You are doing something so much more incredible. Loving, even knowing what ending love must craft.”

“This is a bit dark for my wedding day,” Dani points out. Viola nods.

“You are radiant. And you are fortunate. And I wish you both all the happiness in the world.”

It is the strangest wedding toast she’s ever heard, and something within Dani’s heart has never been more at peace.

***

“How’s our Lady doing tonight?” Jamie asks as Dani slips into bed beside her. She tips her head, thinking on it. Viola, as she usually is once Dani crosses the bedroom threshold, is nowhere to be found.

“Good, I think. Calm.”

“And my wife?” Jamie looks at her, eyes serious. “You’ve been quieter lately. Fighting her less?”

“She’s been fighting me less,” Dani says. “She...likes it here, I think. Likes us. You know, I thought after this much time, she’d get bored or restless or...go back to her old ways, but...”

“But I’m just too gorgeous,” Jamie teases. Dani slings a leg across her body, holds tight to her with hands that never feel as though they can hold on hard enough.

“I think sometimes...sometimes it’s just about remembering. What it’s like to be a person. What it’s like to be in love.”

“Mm,” Jamie agrees, fingertips drawing dizzying spirals on the bare back of Dani’s shoulder. “Well done, you. You’ve tamed your beast.”

Dani sighs, content. “I think it was a joint effort.”

“Yes,” Jamie agrees, kissing the top of her head. “Because I am, famously, too gorgeous to deny.”

#the haunting of bly manor #the haunting of bly manor spoilers #fanfiction #dani x jamie #jamie x dani #me: I'm gonna take this show incredibly seriously and analyze it in detail #also me: wouldn't it be fucking hilarious if viola just rode around in Dani's mind yapping all the time?#also also me: oh no it went from being stupid to having heart anyway what the hell #anyway this is all karatam's fault and she knows it #and like everything else it isn't as silly as it could be because my dumb heart got in the way

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whump-town · 3 years

Text

The Blood That Haunts Me

post-scratch fic

no pairings

Hotch has a bad heart

word count 6k

In Savannah Hayes’ experience, Saturday’s are typically for parents with screaming toddlers looking for emergency medicine to soothe their fears about whatever toy their child has shoved up their nose or to ask an aged nurse what to do with this croup that just won’t go away. It’s scrapes and bruises from a fender bender with kids just learning to drive and roughly two to three broken arms from seven-year-olds learning to ride a bike without training wheels. With any luck, there will be only one underage kid in a banana bag and the college kids will be in and out for stitches and gone as quickly as they come. There’s always the regulars - older men and women that buzz with the opportunity to be out of their houses even if it’s to withstand the pain of stitches and staples on their thin skin.

Rarely has Savannah faced a Saturday where she knew someone being pulled into her emergency room. Virginia isn’t the biggest place but her friends are young and healthy and Saturdays are for squirmy children and stupid teenagers. When she sees him with his ankles stretched out over the end of the stretcher and a large hand weakly fighting with the paramedic to hold the oxygen mask over her face she’s certain of his identity. She’s good with faces and his is unmistakable.

“You shouldn’t be on break yet, baby.” Derek picks up on the first ring, the sound of Hank babbling loudly in the background making him chuckle deeply as he moves. The phone pinched between his shoulder and cheek, she can hear him pick up their son. Talking back to the baby.

Savannah is sitting in the emergency room, camped out behind the desk as she catalogs patient information. Despite it being a Saturday, the hospital is startlingly pretty timid (knock on wood). When there is a new patient the clatter is noticed. So when Hotch came in, supine but weakly fighting against the oxygen mask pulled down over his mouth, Savannah noticed. Even drugged and combative, he’s distinctly himself.

And as Savannah tells Derek, describes the man she’s quite fond of, he doesn’t believe her. Hotch doesn’t go to the hospital and no one’s heard from him in forever, he’s probably not even in Virginia. Garcia said Jack started high school last fall and if they were home and situated again with no contact then… Well, what are they supposed to do? “Derek--” Savannah can hear the pitch change in his voice. Derek goes from dismissive to genuinely worried and now pulling at strings because no one has talked to Hotch in months (nearly two years) and the idea of seeing him now is terrifying. “I am positive that it’s Hotch.” She leans around the monitor, frowning as she watches some nurses she knows buzz around him. Throwing out words she can’t make out entirely but she can see what they’re doing and it makes her heart jump a little to hear medications that they put orders out for.

Hotch makes a noise - it has to be loud for her to hear it from the distance she’s at. “Baby,” she stands and it makes her heart do a weird clenching thing when she catches a glimpse at his face. Sees that he’s crying and clearly upset. “Derek, he’s getting all kinds of agitated. I’m gonna call you back in a second, okay?” She doesn’t wait for an answer and tosses her phone down on her chair before calling out for one of the nurses she recognizes with a wave.

The nurse smiles when she sees Savannah - she’s got a particular gift with patients like Hotch.

“I know this one,” Savannah says, approaching the bed. “What have you got?”

Savannah doesn’t have all the details on the accident that occurred in 2009 with George Foyet. It’s not Derek’s story to tell and it’s not exactly the easiest one to bring into conversation. She’s aware of vague things like his collapse a few years later from scar tissue that caused him to bleed internally and that Hotch's ex-wife was killed by a serial killer. Mostly, she knows that Hotch is dependable and secure and that when he went into witness protection nearly two years ago his absence had crushed them all. Even if the likes of Emily Prentiss and her just as stubborn as hell husband would never admit it.

“Mild tachycardia and respiratory depression -” The nurse tells her about Hotch’s underactive thyroid, something he’s supposed to take medication for ever since the stabbing damaged the organs function. How it’s throwing his heart into tachycardia and it’s getting worse, not responding to medicine yet.

Savannah may not know what happened with George Foyet but she knows Derek regards Hotch as this infallible wall of a man. One she’s come to understand he thinks can’t ever fall down and one that, despite how fondly he’ll speak about him, annoys the hell out of him. Personally, Savannah thinks Aaron Hotchner is just a sweet man. She likes him and his little quirks. He’s quite the odd pairing when he gets together with Emily and Dave but they’re a funny crowd.

What she isn’t expecting is the mess of scars littering his chest. Experience allows her to date some of them by sight - their distinct shape and coloration clustering them into the same time frame and she can’t imagine how someone gets over half a dozen wounds like that at once. They don’t end there. On his right side, there’s a nearly faded out of existence scar from a chest tube. A puncture wound- something blunt she’d assumed by way of its roundness. Even a few rougher-looking, jagged scars that she assumes are shrapnel because Derek has nearly identical ones.

Savannah is a few moments too late to prevent Hotch from being pulled down by a sedative but he’s fighting it, blinking slowly to try and remain awake. “Hey,” she greets softly, turning his wrist over so she can see IV sight in his elbow. It’s secure and there’s nothing special to note but it’s going to bruise. “Long time no see Agent Hotchner.” She squeezes his fingers, smiling at the recognition behind his eyes even if his lips only form a silent mouthed version of her name.

With a smile - remembering the first time they met and how gently he’d taken her hand before shaking his head and admonishing “everyone calls me Hotch” - she reaches down and fixes his hair. He’s let it grow out since he left the BAU. Derek had been livid when he got word that Hotch wasn’t coming back despite the fact that he too left the unit. “How are you feeling, Hotch? Can I call someone?”

His eyes slide shut and for a moment she thinks he’s given in, sunk down low where his pain and his ailments can’t get him. He taps a finger against her palm and she understands he’s still here. “Morgan?” he rasps.

She nods, “Derek already knows you’re here. I imagine he’ll have the whole crew here in no time.” He grimaces, cracking an eye open to give her a look she understands entirely. She’s only ever faced their smothering worry once when Hank was born but she knows it’s a lot. It’s hard to imagine they’re going to somehow be less present and attuned with him than they with her. He’s not looking forward to that and it’s understandable. “Don’t worry,” she promises, “I’ll have your back when they get here.”

He nods, dull eyes sinking back under his eyelids. She holds his hand until she’s certain he’s fallen asleep.

“So,” the nurse asks softly. She moves and tubes and wires around so that they’re not laying against his bare skin. Folding the blankets over Hotch’s hips and leaving his chest bare. He’s still tachycardic, breathing laboriously through inflamed lungs. “How do you know this guy?”

Savannah sits down on the edge of the bed, taking Hotch’s hand into her own. Working her thumb in gentle, hypnotic motions between his knuckles and smiling sadly at the relieved rasping sigh that leaves his parted pale lips. “Family,” she answers because she’s not sure what the answer really is but in some way… yeah, family.

The nurse nods, going about what needs to be done while Savannah stays on the edge of the bed. She does what she can until she clears her throat. “Hey,” the nurse smiles, sympathetic to the soft faraway look in Savannah’s eyes. “Doctor Hamilton admitted him so I need to take him up to the--”

Savannah stands immediately, nodding. “Yeah,” she lays his hand back down on his chest. Stepping away from the bed, “sorry.” She shakes her head, stepping back as the brakes come up and he’s set into motion. “Second floor?” Savannah assumes.

The nurse nods, “he’ll be in room one seventeen. I’ll let the desk know he’s one of yours.”

Savannah watches him disappear down the hall, met at the mouth of the hall by other nurses and staff nodding as they take him to the right floor. She’d been there long enough to see his heart monitor and to identify the ventricular tachycardia plaguing him. He’ll likely need a pacemaker and she’s already racing to a solution. He’ll need to be monitored after surgery but can go home. Hank’s a little too small still but they have the guest room. If Derek cleans up the mess he lets Hank make in there--

Savannah’s heart sinks to the floor and she turns around. Hit with the sudden memory of the last event she saw Hotch at and remembers slowly that Hotch has a son and someone needs to find him.

All morning something had been off, Hotch didn’t have to say it for Jack to know. The oatmeal was made oddly, Hotch’s hands trembling so much he’d gotten the measurements wrong. Too much brown sugar but Jack hadn’t seemed to mind it being too sweet. He’d been distracted by his oatmeal and unalarmed by signs he hasn’t learned to be aware of. If Hotch had gotten up late or made breakfast and then laid down on the couch then Jack would have noticed. Bad days come frequently and like most storms look and sound distinct.

High anxiety days are an early rise, the sound of lights being turned on and off as Hotch fails to get comfortable in any room. Coming out of his room and finding his father curled up on the couch. His knees drawn up and a pillow pressed into his chest, a heated blanket wrapped around him like a cocoon. It’s lightly tiptoeing around the house so Hotch stays asleep and avoids him once he does move and allows his aching back to stretch out. Jack knows to keep his music down and to call Jessica if Hotch locks himself away.

Though time has dampened it’s severity it’s not impossible to find his father trying to work through untreated PTSD or ride out an intense wave of depression. Leaving him immobile or desperate for a distraction. Jack knows those things. He understands them and, like the blasting siren that screams out before a tornado, Jack knows when to duck for cover and ride out the storm.

But Jack had no idea what a heart attack would look like. What to expect or even if a heart attack had been what he’d seen.

Hands over his ears, Jack Hotchner sinks into the emotionless walls surrounding him. Trying to find the place past his body where everything ceases to exist. Insistently, against his will, he’s pulled back to a decade ago. To the sound of gunshots tearing through the only home he’d ever known. To Emily wiping his tears away with the palm of her hand, their backs to the carnage his father created in the fall. To a hospital not unlike this one where his father was patched up - open wounds covered and drugs numbing his rough edges - until Jack had finally been able to see him. The feeling of his father’s chest, broad and forever, solid as he’d curled his legs into his lap. His father cried softly as he explained what happened, what he’d done.

“Mommy isn’t coming home, buddy.”

Pinching his eyes shut, Jack rocks himself back and forth. He can’t go there. Not alone. He can’t go back to Foyet. He’s too old for those silly games. Too old for nightmares and monsters hiding under his bed. Unaware of the ones still crawling out of his father’s closet, wrapping their cold fingers around his ankle and threatening to pull him into the darkness with them.

You’re never too old for monsters.

Spencer had found the time to confide in Jack about being raised by a mentally ill single mother. His intent was to demonstrate to Jack that not only did he understand the pre-teens intense fury with his father but that the emotions would abate and Jack would have only a few moments to decide what to do next. How Spencer had turned eighteen and had to have his mother committed to an institution. A decision that haunted him but that he ultimately understood it was simply the only option. One day, Spencer clarified, Jack would understand the way his father worked.

Until that moment, Jack had been more or less paying attention. When it came to all things Uncle Spence, Jack typically has a longer attention span and all the patience in the world but the moment Jack realizes this was a one-on-one sort of deal he was done. He wanted out. But Reid stuttered. That one day, and the words had come out so quickly if he’d had a chance Reid would have stopped them, Jack would realize just what that meant. He’d look at his father and all the magic of his childish love would fall away and Jack would be left with his father’s bare bones. And it would be terrifying but, often, that’s all love is: all the bits bleached down to their true forms.

He gets it now, okay? The nutty academic parent with bouts of deep depression, an obsession with their jobs, and no idea how to say I love you like everyone else. He gets the comparison now. Can he be done? He wants to go home. He’s done learning this stupid lesson about love or whatever bullshit this is supposed to represent. When does it end? It’s going to end, right?

Derek Morgan falters in the doorway, stalled like an engine as he stands at the edge of the messy room. Hank hums in Derek’s left ear, bouncing his foot against Derek’s hip as he stands stationary and trying to wrap his head around everything happening. It’s overwhelming. Derek hasn’t seen Hotch in two years and if the sight of him alone - laid out right here - doesn’t bring its own intense wave of anger and longing then the sight of his uncovered chest is it’s own thing as well.

Hotch is on the bed, curled slightly to his right with the blankets leaving his pale chilled skin open. Even with his face turned into the pillow behind his head, he looks deathly pale in comparison to the white bedspread. Entirely too limp, too still as he lays there pulling in breaths audible over the hiss of the canal running under his nose. Nearly drowned out, consumed by the natural hums of the hospital and constant motion of the monitors to his left and the dissatisfied beep of the blood-pressure cuff around his right arm.

Savannah warned him of what he’d find once he got inside in case she got called away to a patient when he got there. She told him the buzz around the staff, what Hotch’s cardiologist thought and it stung to hear her warn him ahead of time what Hotch looked like, worse, she imagined, than what Derek was imaging. Weaker, she’d said as if the word was some sort of betrayal. He’s weak and Derek can’t push him and he’d wanted to advocate for himself but he couldn’t.

With tears in his eyes, he’d promised to be on his best behavior and Derek realized just how awful he and Hotch could be towards one another. How everyone sees it. He’d wondered if… Well, if Hotch hated him for it. They’d been close once. Partners. Haley used to joke she half expected he’d steal Aaron away from her. That old joke used to make Jason laugh so hard, the two of them together were the cause of all his worry and stress. Now…

Well, now Derek is standing in a room that can’t be more than a 120-foot space with far too much equipment in it feeling like he’s never been so far away from Hotch. So disconnected.

Hotch makes a soft sound from the bed, twitching his nose and flexing his fingers. There are more drugs than blood in him, keeping him weak and tired and unable to pick apart his surroundings. Hazy eyes blink open, peeled apart like they each weigh twenty pounds, and the simple act of keeping them open burns. He can’t make out the world around him very well but he sees the empty chairs on his left and the expanse of white all around. The hospital, he knows, and no one showed up.

Maybe they finally got wise and are leaving him to his own devices. Leaving him to rot where he won’t be missed. Sinking into the fibers of the bed and disappearing. They’ll stop pumping him so full of drugs and just let him wilt away. He wants it, craves the nothing he knows he’ll find. No masks or deception or this anger he feels burning and rearing its ugly head. Just nothing.

Derek steps into the room, sniffling to draw in some noise before he steps into Hotch’s line of sight. Hoping not to startle him, as he clears his throat, meeting Hotch’s gaze for only a moment looking down at his shoes. “Just me and Hank,” he offers. He tucks his hands into his pockets. He can feel Hotch still looking at him, hearing those painstakingly slow, labored breaths. He wishes he hadn’t come. To escape all this restless vulnerability.

Hotch’s eyes sink back shut, pale lips parting to mumbling, “Derek,” under his breath. Savannah told him Hotch wouldn’t even likely know he was there. The drugs are affecting his mental facilities, sedating him to keep him calm while they run tests. When he can remember what’s happening he’s scared and when he can’t… he has a baseline memory that hardly differentiates friend from foe. It’s the latter of which Savannah needs him to be aware of because Hotch’s heart can’t handle the stress. His mind is too clouded and his body too weak, he just needs someone to hold his hand. Someone to distract him.

Derek’s expecting a conversation. For Hotch to say something. To apologize for running off or to pay Hank some sort of mind. There’s not even a stiff silence, Hotch looks so weak, so pliant Derek isn’t sure he can even speak. He realizes that despite all the hefty warnings, despite everything that he was told he still walked into this room expecting Aaron Hotchner. He wanted, he needed the man in the suit, with that stern scowl, and gravelly voice. He’d needed the mask and instead he got the man. The man without the armor, just blood.

And it scares him.

It scares Derek that Hotch can’t put up his shields, that he can’t hide and play their cat and mouse game of anger and misunderstanding. They only have blind defeat.

Derek sits down in the visitor’s chair, shushing Hank when he squirms with agitation. Hank immediately starts touching everything in sight. Reaching and leaning dangerously out of Morgan’s lap, to touch the bed and smack his hand against the rail. A sound that makes Hotch’s eyes peel open to slivers before they shut again, unbothered. “Don’t touch that,” Derek pulls Hank into his lap, redirecting his attention.

He knows, from the low whine Hank lets out, that this isn’t going to work for very long. Mercifully, there’s a knock at the door and Savannah peeks her head in. Waving at Hank who fights his limbs out of Derek’s hold to be placed on the floor so he can propel his body in the direction of his mother.

“Hello baby,” Savannah scoops him right up. Grinning at that way he toddles, that quick toddler pace because he doesn’t know how to pump the brakes. How to set himself into motion that isn’t just guided by leaning forward and running.

Derek stands from his chair, clearing his throat and glancing down at Hotch before looking back to his wife and son.

Savannah can see his hesitation, his worry. “Why don’t we go to the cafeteria and get a snack? Hmm?” She jogs Hank up in her arms and he brightens at the offering - knowing pudding or a cookie is coming his way. “Derek?” She offers out her hand to him, “come on. I’ll explain everything to you downstairs.”

“Ugh--” all he can see is Hotch shivering. His skin slick with sweat from the strain on his body but the way he’s curled into the side. Trying to produce warmth where it isn’t. “Just give me a second.” Derek knows he can’t just throw the blanket over Hotch and he works himself up, gets upset just thinking about the mass of awful scars keeping his friend held together. All the old scars are bare for anyone and everyone to see. If Hotch had the presence of mind for it, he’d be upset.

With a gentleness born with great amounts of stress, Derek gently works the lower half of the blanket over Hotch’s leg. He folds the lower half over and hesitates, stares at Hotch, and wonders just how much he’s allowed. Hotch is cold and Derek knows that means his arms too but that crosses their line. They’re never spoken out loud, only shot through glances about trust and touch but Hotch is asleep or maybe lost to his haze of drugs (and Derek’s not really sure if there’s a difference between those two things). So, he picks up Hotch’s hand, swallowing against the uncomfortable swell of his throat when he feels just how cold the other man’s skin is. He tucks Hotch’s hand carefully against his chest.

Hotch’s face twitches, a grimace that makes him jerk his head but he doesn’t move his hand so Derek leaves it. Carefully, still watching and waiting for some explosive reaction but none come. Derek turns the heated blanket up to the highest setting, making sure even Hotch’s shoulders are covered. Tucking the blanket just under his chin.

Hotch groans from the back of his throat, a startling noise that comes with blinding panic. His eyes fly open, darting around the room and to Derek but not seeing. Derek can’t tell if it’s pain or fear but the machine over his shoulder picks up pace, reflecting Hotch’s distress. Hotch swallows thickly, mouth opening and eyes flicking around the room. Twisting, fighting his body in a futile battle where he loses no matter the outcome. Kicking out and dislodging blankets as he’s blinded by his pain.

“Step back Derek.” Derek just stands there, frozen. Savannah grabs him by the arm and pulls him back, allowing other people to come into the room. “He’s okay,” she mumbles, eyes glued to Hotch. He’s fighting blindly, anything and everything. His heart can’t take it, her eyes flick from his bare skin to the monitors. To the staff also taking note. “Derek, we can’t be in here.”

They pull the crash cart close, preparing vials of medicine before their eyes.

“What’re they--” Derek can’t move. He stands there watching them move blankets out of the way. Listening as they pull open a drawer and settle a machine on top and he knows what it is. Doesn’t need to be told what’s happening next. “Savannah.” He stumbles back, shaking his head. The machine wines, a high-pitched squeal that makes Derek’s heart pick up.

He doesn’t see, doesn’t watch.

He’s standing in the hall when the machine fires off. Can close his eyes but can’t unhear the sound of Hotch’s low groan, a punched-out sound but he’s alive. Still pulling in breaths.

“Morgan?”

He was still a baby the last time Morgan saw him. Quickly trying to climb to his father’s height but every bit as graceful as a colt, and angry. Angry with his father for falling into this same repeated history and questioning what he knew. How much of his father’s strength is something else? What does he really know about the man who raised him? Because he got himself a chunk of history, started to understand the man he’d always blindly turned to. His hero. Instead, he got glimpses, stories about the boy his mother knew and he could no longer recognize him.

But standing here now is a whole teenager. Blonde hair grown out and even taller, built unmistakably like his father with all height in his legs and pale.

“Jack.” Morgan stumbles back when Jack collides into him, long arms wrapping around him. “Oh my God,” he whispers. “When the hell did you get so big?” He’s standing there, a whole armful of the kid he used to give piggyback rides to.

Jack pulls away and wipes his eyes, furiously wipes his eyes so that Morgan can unsee the tears streaming down his face. “My-- My dad,” he asks. “Did you see him?” Jack looks at the room, alerted by the sounds coming from within, but Morgan steps in the way. “Morgan is he-- is he in there?” Jack worms his way out of Morgan’s arms, a whole tangle of long limbs.

Hotch would be proud to know Jack is exactly like him, real scrappy. A lot of fight for such a lanky person.

“Jack,” Morgan pulls him away from the door. Despite how much he wants to go to Hotch too, that’s not where Jack should be. That’s not what Jack should see. “Come on, kid. We can’t go in there. Come on.” The fight leaves him easily enough, he’s really just a kid standing there looking for someone to tell him what to do. Anyone to point him where he’s supposed to be.

Jack still wants to turn, as if pulled by strings.

“I called Rossi,” Morgan offers. Something to distract him, something good. “Everyone else? Reid and Garcia and Emily? They’re on their way, okay?” And even with loaded promises Jack can’t find the nerve to respond. Their names used to be a solace. Someone to call when he needs help with his math homework. To show up with books on whatever cool thing he’s into this week. His family.

People he hasn’t seen in forever.

They do come.

Hank’s ambling about, babbling to Morgan as he pulls his father around the waiting room. It’s his excited squeal that alerts them to the other’s arrival. To Reid holding the door open so the others can pass. The pile-up that happens, shocked inhales and silence as they stand there and look at the carnage. At Jack’s tear-stained face and Morgan going where Hank pulls but empty, fearful.

“Uncle Dave?” Jack stands up, wiping at his face with the back of his hand.

Dave smiles, “hey kiddo.” He doesn’t argue against the armful of Jack he gets, just closes him up. “Christ,” Dave whispers. “You’re a giant.”

“What is he feeding you?” Jack turns around and finds Emily and all she can do is laugh as he hugs her too. Finds herself all wrapped up in his long arms. “I’m going to give him a piece of my mind,” she whispers, “letting you get so big.” She squeezes him tight, cups the back of his head.

There’s not much more time for reunions, never much time for anything.

“Aaron Hotchner?”

Never get used to this part either. The sitting. The waiting. The calling.

Savannah was right about the tachycardia.

“With your permission - ” and it’s important that detail be added. That Hotch can’t make this decision for himself anymore and it’s resting entirely on the shoulders of Jessica or Dave and Emily alternatively. That doesn’t mean it’s not like a kick to the gut. A cruel taunt. “We would like to prepare him for the surgery now while he’s stable.” Stable? Is that what he is? Laying back there with defibrillator pads on his chest and sedated to the point that Morgan wasn’t sure Hotch could even recognize him.

Jack sniffles, ducking his head and whispering to Emily. Attached to her hip, clinging to her. She shakes her head and brushes his hair back, “it doesn’t work like that, Jack.” Jack’s lower lip trembles and it breaks Emily’s heart so she interrupts the doctors. Despite the voice at the back of her head telling her this isn’t a good idea. Despite the sour twist in her stomach. The way she knows Hotch wouldn’t want this. “I know there are strict rules,” and that alone should be enough to know they’re likely to be shot down. “Is there any chance he can go back before the surgery? This is his son, he’s fifteen. He’ll be sixteen soon. You’re hardly breaking the rules at all.”

Soon is a bit of a stretch. Jack’s an October baby.

The doctor looks at Jack and sighs like this is really putting him off but nods. “Yeah, quickly. Five minutes, do you understand? You can’t be back there long,”

And Jack thinks he’s won something grand. That he’ll be faced with the same mirage Morgan was expecting. His dad will be sitting back there tall and strong, probably just tired like he’s sick. But he takes one step into the room and wishes he hadn’t come. Hadn’t asked.

They haven’t removed the defibrillator pads on his chest just pulled a blanket over his stomach but that only minimally covers the damage. There are still visibly warped bullet wounds and jagged surgical scars to be seen. But Dave has seen all that. He’d been there to watch the blood spray out when the scar on Hotch’s shoulder took place. Shouted as the gunshot sprayed out and Hotch grunted, being sent back into the wall behind him. But that was… God, that was a lifetime ago when Hotch was just a kid.

Dave turns behind him and sees Jack frozen in the doorway, eyes wide. “Are you sure you want to do this?”

Jack nods but he can hardly move, can’t force himself to move further into the room. He’s seen his father shirtless, not enough times to really gather anything but he’s seen the damage of years of this job has caused. But this is different. Jack isn’t six, isn’t watching him shave. He’s standing there watching him pull in laborious breaths, struggling to keep living.

“You know,” Rossi sits down in the visitor’s chair. “When you were born he cried so hard that Gideon had to call me.” He looks back at Jack, watching his face for some inclination that he’s going to either come into the room or run away. “Haley was exhausted but… She was beautiful, always was. No matter if she was showing up at the office to haul your father home by the ear in her pajamas or crying her make-up off in the waiting room waiting for your knucklehead father to get out of surgery.”

But he’s missed the point.

He chances a glance to Hotch, watching his pale face twist in discomfort. “You were born at eleven at night and by that point I was already in bed and done for the night by ten kind of guy.” He can still remember sighing and almost ignoring his phone when it had gone off. “I got to the hospital and your dad was sitting on the floor just outside the room, sobbing so hard I thought he’d pass out.” It’s still pretty surprising he didn’t pass out. “Didn’t think he could do it. You were so small, small, and pink and screaming your little head off.”

Jack huffs, smiling as he kicks at the ground. Looking everywhere but his father or Dave.

“But I picked him up,” grabbed him by his shirt and forced him to his feet. Managing the tough love Gideon couldn’t bring himself to enforce. “I don’t think he stopped crying until he fell asleep. Just sitting there with you in his arms crying.” Rossi sighs shakes his head. “Honestly, you were tiny. Had a-- Had a thing with your heart and…” Rossi had held Jack after Hotch and Haley finally managed to catch some sleep. A nurse had figured he or Gideon one had to be a grandfather, why else would they be there? They’d sat there with Jack for about an hour just gushing over how small and cute he was. Trying to keep the baby content so Haley could get some sleep.

Drowsily his voice cuts through the silence, nothing but a ghost of a whisper. “An atrial septal defect.” It’s all he can manage but it’s enough to get their attention. Jack had been born with an atrial septal defect and they knew about it in advance just after Haley’s pregnancy got tricky. It was just a tiny little hole in his atrium, closed before he was a whole year old. That doesn’t mean it didn’t scare the hell out of them first. Leave them to check his bassinet every few hours. To make sure he was okay, still breathing.

“The doctor said I shouldn’t play soccer because of it.” Jack manages a few steps and comes to the very end of the bed. His fingers just barely touching the bed frame. “But you let me play anyways.”

Hotch clears his throat, shakes his head. “I didn’t. Jessica did.” He grimaces, shifting uselessly to find a position that doesn’t hurt. “Said-- She said if you were anything like me you’d find a way.” He’s talked himself breathless, gasping and fighting to breathe. “Might as well-- Might as well make it easy on myself. Just let you do it.” So he had. He signed Jack up for soccer despite his own fears and went to every match he could. Every practice. Until he was the only parent paying attention.

He coughs softly, setting off a weight and ache in his lungs. “Jessica--” he cuts himself off, coughing until he holds his breath and fists the sheets in his hand to keep from still.

Jack looks away, fixes his eyes on the floor.

Dave calls it. Hotch won’t admit he’s not okay and Dave would venture Jack has that same stubborn-streak, doesn’t want to think that Hotch isn’t okay.

“Come on,” Dave motions for Jack to follow him. “Times up, better get out of here before they kick us out.” Five or so minutes, that’s all they had and that’s passed. “You’ll be fine,” Dave promises.

He struggles to get his breath, to say something coherent. “Wait,” he grabs Dave’s shirt. Hospitals are so cold, they’re scary and miserable and he doesn’t want to be here. He wants to go home. “I’m sorry,” he manages. “I’m sorry.”

Dave pulls Jack on, can’t leave him behind, and can’t stay any longer.

“What did he mean?” Jack asks. He keeps looking back, looking over his shoulder to the room. “Why’d he say that?” He has to run to keep up with Dave’s pace. “Dave, please. Why’d he say he was sorry?”

Dave stops and just stands for a moment, looking at the hall before them. “He’s scared,” Dave answers, finally. “He’s just scared, that’s all.”

He doesn't think he’s going to make it. That’s the horrible ugly truth. That’s why he apologized. Just in case.

“Come on,” Dave holds out his arm. Smiles a smile that doesn't even try to make it to his eyes and wraps an arm around Jack. “It’s going to be okay. You know that?”

Jack looks back over his shoulder once more, to the room. He doesn’t buy it for a second but he nods anyway. “Course,” he answers.

“Good. That’s good.”

#criminal minds #criminal minds fanfiction #aaron hotchner #savannah hayes #derek morgan #hank morgan #jack hotchner #david rossi #emily prentiss #spencer reid #penelope garcia #jennifer jareau

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