Tagging: @starzablaze (let me know if you want to be added to the Preferences Tag List)
He’s in the room when you find out. His hand is tightly latched onto your own as the healer informs you. A huge grin fills his face as he looks between you and your stomach. ‘Little baby bird.’ He says suddenly, making you laugh. ‘I’ve been waiting to say that for centuries.’ Rowan tells you, resting his forehead against your hip and breathing in your new scent. ‘My mama and my baby bird.’ He murmurs. You’re pretty sure he’s in shock. Your hand rakes through his hair, briefly wondering if your child will inherit his silver locks. ‘My papa bird.’ You chuckle. Rowan looks up at you, tears swimming in his eyes. You hand drifts to his tattoo, trailing down the expanse of his face. He turns his head to kiss your palm. ‘Thank you.’ He whispers. ‘For giving me a chance to be a papa bird.’
You have been trying for a couple years…. okay a couple decades, and you and Rhys are becoming uncertain that it will ever happen. You’ve even had a couple miscarriages that almost destroyed Rhys. The two of you would stay up for days after you found out, holding each other and silently crying, trying to reassure yourselves that it would all be okay, even though it wasn’t. When the healer does inform you that you are with child, you keep it to yourself for a couple months, not wanting Rhys to have to go through the pain of losing another child. However, when you reach the end of your first trimester, it’s almost impossible to hide it from him anymore, plus it’s the farthest you’ve ever gotten. So, you tell Rhys and he just looks at you in disbelief, suddenly connecting the dots from the last three months, and it all falls into place. ‘It’s healthy?’ you nod. ‘It’s been three months?’ you nod again, suddenly feeling selfish for hiding it from him. But Rhys is so happy. He pulls you into his arms and buries his face in your hair and breathes in your scent that he knew had changed but hadn’t come to terms with yet, and he just holds you for hours, crying softly tears of joy.
It spread around the castle like wildfire and most of the royal staff knows that you’re pregnant before Dorian does. He’s about to begin a meeting when one of his advisors come up to him and congratulates him. Needless to say, Dorian is confused and with a look of horror, the advisor scurries away. It doesn’t take him long to find out why the castle is abuzz, and he storms around trying to find you. When he finally sees you in the garden, it just blurts out. ‘You’re pregnant?’ You turn around to look at him nervously, nodding once and preparing yourself for any reaction. But Dorian is already across the space between you and has your face in his hands, kissing you fiercely. You feel phantom caresses along your abdomen, and soon his real hands join them after he breaks the kiss. ‘You’re pregnant.’ He repeats in awe and amazement.
He almost doesn’t believe you when you first tell him. He thinks you’re joking. ‘That’s not a very nice prank, sweetheart.’ He mumbles, flipping the omelette in it’s pan and not even looking at you. The smell of the eggs makes you vomit into the sink and then Cassian is there, holding your hair back with wide eyes. ‘Wait, you’re serious?’ You nod, wiping your mouth with the back of your hand and looking up at him worriedly. Suddenly Cassian is kneeling in front of you, his cheek pressed against your stomach. ‘i love you.’ He whispers as you trail your fingers through his hair, a peaceful smile on your face. ‘I love you too.’ Cassian chuckles, glancing up at you. ‘I was talking to our child, but yeah, I love you as well.’ You roll your eyes but can’t help but grin as he murmurs again, ‘our child’.
You’re laying in bed, his arm wrapped around your waist, his fingers trailing along your abdomen, when it just slips. His hand freezes and you are really glad you aren’t facing him to see his expression. Of course, Chaol fixes that immediately, turning you over, a wondrous look in his eyes as he stares at you. ‘You are pregnant?’ He clarifies. You nod. ‘With my child?’ You laugh and nod again. Chaol leans forward and places a small kiss on your temple. Then another on your nose. And another on your cheek bone. He places light pecks all along your face and neck. “I *kiss* have wanted this, *kiss* have prayed for this *kiss* since I *kiss* fell in love *kiss* with you.” You can’t help but giggle as his lips trail unhurriedly across your skin. He worships your body that night, placing the same kisses all over your body as a thank you for being his wife, the love of his life, and now the mother of his child.
His shadows let him know the minute your scent changes. He debates hiding it from you until you’re at least a few more days along, but he is unable to hide his excitement. ‘What is it?’ You ask, and Azriel is pretty sure you are already glowing. in response, a shadow lingers over your stomach, dancing along your skin, somehow both protective and excited. ‘Really?’ He nods, a huge grin breaking out on his face. There is no sign of doubt in his face, no worry or darkness. He is unbelievably happy and it’s contagious. The two of you look down at your still flat stomach, where a shadow has now attached itself. It does not look like it’s leaving. And it doesn’t. Azriel’s faithful shadow stays in front of your stomach as it grows, a protecter, informer, and reminder of the joy growing within.
He probably has a better track of your periods than you do, so he’s the first one to notice when you are late, and it doesn’t take him too long to figure out why. ‘Are you with child?’ He asks blatantly one morning, when you once again are not bleeding. You are taken aback by the question, not yet fully realizing that you are in fact late. You quickly do the math in your head and your eyes widen. ‘I-I might be.’ There is a flicker of emotion on his face that you can’t quite decipher. ‘Would you be okay if I was?’ Lorcan’s expression softens. ‘I would be ecstatic.’ He assures, and you feel a huge weight lifted off your shoulders. ‘Now, let’s go find a healer.’ His need to find out for sure makes you laugh. When you find out that you are, indeed, pregnant, Lorcan is just smiling faintly to himself, proud to have figured it out. And suddenly, he starts laughing. Lorcan Salvaterre full on erupts in laughter, tears streaming down his cheeks and he kisses you soundly as you look at him, wide eyed. ‘Hellas, I’m gonna be a dad.’ He whispers, and chuckles once more.
He was gone for a couple months on an Emissary trip and when he comes back he is in for a surprise. You’re standing there, a pronounced bump protruding from your torso, and Lucien is stunned motionless. ‘Is that…?’ He asks, gesturing towards your stomach. You can practically see the wheels turning in his head as he does the math. ‘Is it…?’ He points to himself and you nod again. Quickly, he crosses the space between you, his hands stopping inches from your stomach and then he looks up at you for permission. You pull his hands the rest of the way, setting them on where he is most likely to feel it kick. Somehow, the baby knows right away who it is, and Lucien gasps at the small pressure that hits his hand. Tears gather in his eyes as he looks back up at you. ‘I’m sorry I was gone so long.’ He murmurs. ‘If I’d have known -’ ‘It’s okay.’ You interrupt, ‘You’re here now, and our child has a father.’ Lucien grins again, pressing a sweet kiss to your lips and another to your stomach. ‘I’m your dad.’ He tells the baby, and the months of missing him are relieved from your shoulders.
His heightened sense of smell notifies him only a few hours after the healer told you. ‘Why is your scent different?’ He extracts his nose from your neck in the middle of a heated make-out session. You can practically see all of the different possibilities running through his mind until it clicks. ‘You’re not….’ You are unable to meet his eyes as Aedion gasps. ‘Are you mad?’ You ask, afraid of the answer. Instead of words, Aedion responds by nuzzling his head into your stomach. It’s your turn to gasp as he kisses your navel, memorizing your new scent. ‘Far from it, button.’ He assures. ‘We’re gonna have a tiny wolf!’ The relief that courses through you is overwhelming. ‘You’re impossible.’ you mutter lovingly, running your fingers through his long hair. He rests his chin on your stomach and looks up at you. ‘And I’m also your baby daddy.’
With his endless knowledge, Helion sees the signs immediately. One night, he switches out the novel on your nightstand for a book about pregnancy in fae. ‘What the….’ You look up at him, confused, but he’s just staring at you, a small genuine smile dancing on his lips. ‘You’ll need that, better brush up on what to expect…’ His hand drifts to rest on your abdomen. ‘When you’re expecting.’ Helion chuckles at your wide-eyed expression, letting his fingers play along your exposed skin. ‘Your mommy is in shock.’ He coos to your stomach, laughter rumbling through his body. ‘Hopefully she get’s over it soon.’ He picks up the book and flips to the first page. ‘Because she has a lot of reading to do.’ And then he begins to read aloud.
He picks you up and twirls you around when you tell him, then scoops you up in his arm and refuses to set you down. He carries you all around, telling everyone that he is practicing carrying his child while you bury your face in his neck in embarrassment. He doesn’t set you down for hours, and even then, it’s in bed and he puts you in his lap. ‘Are you ever going to let me walk ever again?’ He seems to think about it. ‘Maybe once our baby can walk as well.’ Fenrys sends you a wolfish grin and pulls you closer to him, kissing your shoulder and looking up at you with big eyes. ‘Our baby.’
He immediately goes into planning mode, worrying about your health and the food and the crib and the clothes etc etc etc. And then suddenly, he stops his pacing and looks at you, a new light shining in his eyes. You’re sitting on the bed, watching him with amusement as he panics, and raise an eyebrow. ‘What should we name her?’ You’re taken aback. ‘Her?’ You’re barely a month along there is no way either of you can know the gender. Kallias shrugs, a small smile on his lips. ‘Yeah, a little baby snowflake girl.’ You smile back, because he’s excited, and that makes you excited too.
He finds out during a party with the rest of your friends. Someone offers you a drink and you decline, drawing Gavriel’s attention. You look up at him sheepishly. ‘I was going to tell you….’ Suddenly, he realizes what’s happening. Gavriel exclaims, drawing everyone’s attention and you blush bright red. ‘We’re gonna have a kitten?’ He asks. You slap his shoulder. ‘Don’t call it that!’ But your friends are all rejoicing, congratulating you. Gavriel can’t look away, his eyes pinned on you and a mischievous look in his gaze. You have a feeling his once-in-a-century joke is about to happen. Instead, his hands go to your hips and he just smiles. ‘I’m definitely calling it a kitten.’
He found our you were cheating on him because the new scent that is now mixed with yours is definitely not a product of him. You break up with his sorry ass and go to your baby daddy and the two of you are very happy.
the reason why i love modern au bellarke? because they’re such an aesthetic™ that’s what.
clarke as a young artist with paint-splattered hands and shorts, not to mention the golden waves of her hair that always fall on her face. clarke as the van gogh enthusiast who has a starry night poster taped to her ceiling, the woman who can only cook things that involve spaghetti, who puts on lipstick at 7 pm simply because she feels like it and dances around the kitchen in one of bellamy’s old sweatshirts.
bellamy as the history nerd with a heart of gold who makes sure that there are always plants in the house and flowers on clarke’s nightstand, who reads 10 books a month, who leaves leftovers in the fridge for clarke, who loves sitting on the rooftop and watch the stars, who’s all bright smiles and freckles, solves crossword puzzles on a sunday morning, leaving coffee stains on the newspaper.
and together, she traces her fingertips over the constellations of freckles on his skin and he twists the golden waves of her hair around his fingers. they have the perfect height difference for casual forehead kisses and making out while she sits on the kitchen countertop.
This is a distillation of the blog aesthetics I wrote for my followers:
blossoms showering down from trees like snow pale blue summer sky sparrow song naming all the stars in the sky even if you’re making them up reading when everyone else is asleep ivy clinging to old brick buildings a warm breeze ruffling your clothes used book shops taping ephemera into your journal a nightstand stacked with books to read an oil painting in a gilded frame rain-slick pavement a delicate translucent flower petal tacking motivational quotes to your cork board or jotting them down in your bujo slowing your breathing to calm your heart the tangle of headphone cords telling your friends “i love you” bright green avocado flesh line drawings of plants craft paper hanging succulents fruity bubble tea sitting in a cafe with a book as a companion decadent desserts writing poetry by an open window little postcards & prints on the wall around your desk the cool quiet of an art gallery lush gardens a room bathed in afternoon sun through the blinds doodling stars iced milk tea books with yellowing pages fluffy pastires the hiss of summer rain creamy pastel bujo spreads, a cat curled up on your books hair held back in a loose bun leaves heavy with rainwater half-finished mugs of milky coffee cottony clouds in an azure sky bright & busy bujo spreads plump ripe peaches the kaleidoscope of falling leaves in autumn a row of potted succulents on the window sill flower crowns the musical tones of a foreign language the dusty orange of a twilight sky blossoms thick on a tree pink watercolor roses singing at full volume when you’re sure you’re alone stacks of photographs your very own reading nook a list of your favorite words sea glass wildflowers daydreaming waves curling into themselves autumn colors setting the trees ablaze dried flowers tucked in a book string lights on a tree low clouds rolling over the sea late afternoon shadows slanting into the room dimples broad-brimmed straw hats the notes in the margins of a book sleeping on the train bubbling laughter bright gardens crowded with flowers a hug from your best fired the rasp of a camera’s shutter the worn edges of postcards fireflies organizing books on a shelf by the color of their spines studying in bed still wearing pajamas doodling constellations by memory long & blustery German nouns the delicate splatter of watercolors Van Gogh’s fields of sunflowers seeing the moon during the day crisp & clean sheets abundant sunshine a warm & cozy oversized knit sweater pink flowers as pale as dawn a book laying open on your knee as you gaze out the window losing track of how many times you’ve read your favorite book holding a bunch of new markers like a bouquet of flowers interpretive dance under a clear night sky tattoos of your favorite quotes golden honey crocheted blankets the crunch of leaves underfoot as you run to class
The blankets that laid on your bed fit you and Jughead underneath them, giving warmth to your bodies that desperately needed a shield from the chilled Winter air. Jughead’s breath on your neck as you clung to him sent shivers down your spine, accentuating the chill you felt on your skin. You played with his hair, twirling pieces of it around your finger, knowing that such a touch gave him goosebumps. You loved intimate moments where the two of you could just be together, side by side, in silence, knowing there’s no place you’d rather be.
“What are you reading?” Jughead asked, his voice quiet but thick with interest as he eyed your nightstand. It held various books that you felt the need to buy despite the dozens of other books that had yet to be read.
“Dead Souls,” you told him as you reached over and grabbed the book penned by Gogol. It was heavy, reminding you that you had a few hundred pages left before you could move on to the next book on your nightstand.
Jughead kissed your collarbone then propped himself up on his elbow. “Read to me,” he said with a smile on his lips.
“Read to you?” You asked with a laugh. The idea was a romantic one but you never thought that your voice was passionate enough to create romance.
He only grinned wider. “Please?” He began to play with your hair - a dirty trick he used to get you to agree to things you wouldn’t normally agree on right away.
With a shy smile, you sat up in bed. Jughead adjusted himself as well, placing his head in your lap. With one hand you held Dead Souls and eyed the page, finding the last word you remembered reading the night before. With the other hand, you ran your fingers through his thick, black hair. He closed his eyes.
Stalker From Another Universe- Jason Todd/ Red Hood X Reader
This was requested by @azul23blue. I hope this is what you envisioned!
You sat by the window, sipping tea from your favorite mug. The sound of rain hitting the side of your house echoed through the window and an occasional flash of lightning and a boom from thunder graced your presence. You sat on your bed, snuggled into the softest blanket you could find, reading about one of your most favorite characters: Jason Peter Todd. You knew you were a little crazy for falling for a fictional character, but why couldn’t more guys be like him? You often thought that question for every character you have fallen in love with, but you really meant it when you are referring to Jason. He’s freakin adorable and anyone’s opinion is invalid. Even if he’s just a fictional character, his comics never fail to comfort you or make you cry your face off. There is never an in between.
“Why can’t you be real?” you asked the lifeless comic book, “Nevermind, I’d rather be fictional with you. Now I’m talking to myself again, great.”
You chugged the rest of your tea and set the mug down on your nightstand. The comic book later joined the mug on the table with a bookmark marking your spot. A yawn escaped from your lips and you looked at the clock that displayed 12:09. I really need to work on my sleep schedule, you thought, but it’s worth it. You turned your light off and snuggled even deeper into the blanket while shoving another blanket on top of you. You put your head on your pillow and closed your eyes. Later in the night, you were finally lulled to sleep by the rain.
You groaned when the fire from hell woke you up from your slumber. Knowing any attempts of falling asleep again would fail, you sat up and tried to rub the sleep out of your eyes. When you realized you weren’t in your room, you immediately shot up and surveyed the room.
“What the fucking shit?” you screamed.
You immediately covered your mouth with your hands and widened your eyes. Great!! Let the psycho that kidnapped you that you’re awake!! Wonderful!! You looked around for a weapon or something to defend yourself with and saw your comic book on the ground. You grabbed it and held onto it as if it would save you, which it possibly could. The door at the end of the room was yanked open and a man with black hair popped out with a gun.
“Holy shit!” you screamed while diving behind the couch.
You looked around for your comic book but couldn’t find it anywhere. You mentally cursed at yourself for throwing away your only weapon and twenty dollars. You peeked your head out of the side of the couch and saw the man staring at your comic wide-eyed. He glanced back at you and you returned to the safety of the couch. You heard the man’s footsteps and you were frozen in place with your heart beating out of your chest. You looked to your left slowly and saw his feet. Your eyes drifted up and the man still had the comic in his hand.
“Is this yours?”
“Do you know how you got here?”
“No,” you responded.
“Is this fake?” he asked while pointing to the comic.
You gave him a confused look and nodded.
He muttered, “I knew it.”
You wondered what he meant but paid no more attention to it when he placed the book on the couch.
“Just sit there and wait a second. I gotta make a call.”
You sat back on the couch and wondered if you should try and escape or not. He has a gun! A freakin real ass gun! It’s a good idea to run away from a guy with a gun at close range! You weighed all of your options and decided to listen to the said guy with a gun. You grabbed your blanket and snuggled into it like you did last night. Why did he ask those questions? Did he kidnap you or something? You really couldn’t make up your mind of what this situation is. A muffled conversation could be heard from the other side of the door the black-haired guy burst through and sounded like a bunch of gibberish to you. The conversation lasted for about twenty minutes and ended with a few expletives that could definitely be heard through the wall. He stomped out of the room and came back with two cups. He handed one to you and you hesitantly took it. He grabbed your cup and took a swig before handing it back to you. You sipped the drink and realized it was your favorite tea flavor.
“What am I doing here?” you asked him.
“I don’t know.”
“What do you mean ‘you don’t know’? I wake up in some stranger’s apartment and said stranger bursts through a door with a gun aimed at my face!”
“Not even started.”
He chuckled and ran a hand through his hair. You looked at his hair and saw the famous white streak that you have read about. He’s the fucking Red Hood.
You jumped out of the couch again and screeched, “Oh my gosh you’re- Why am I- What the shit and how the shit?”
You kept rambling until a hand grasped onto your shoulder.
“I don’t know how you got here, but you aren’t in Kansas anymore.”
“You’re freaking making a Wizard Of Oz reference when I am who knows how far from my home and stuck in a universe with superheroes and villains! I know you’re witty but that is not making this situation better.”
He shrugged and said, “I thought it would lighten the mood?”
You rolled your eyes, “You’re taking this very well.”
“It’s not everyday that you get to meet a stalker from another universe.”
Kara pushed the door open slowly, reverently, like she was entering a temple, like she might disturb the spirits still lingering there.
Part of her felt guilty for never returning her key. She planned to give it back to Eve plenty of times, but something in her just couldn’t. Now, she was glad she kept it. It made sneaking in that much easier. Not that she wouldn’t have found another way, because this — breaking into Cat’s empty condo
was all she had left, and the only thing worse than losing her completely was knowing she’d never get the chance to say goodbye. Not the way she wanted. Not how she would have if she knew the last time they were together would really be the last.
She kept tabs on her travels at first, tracing her movements on a map each day with her fingers, like they would somehow paint a picture that made sense of her decision to leave. After hearing nothing for weeks, she knew she needed to move on. She was restless in her absence, agitated, and it affected her work. Eventually she became less invested, distracting herself with other things, other people, losing track of exactly where in the world Cat had landed, until that was, news broke of the earthquake in Nepal.
Hellooooo. Sorry once again for posting rather late hehe. I really can’t watch scary things since I will be awake all night. Already getting the chills just by thinking about it plus that I have a brother who loves scaring me. You really have to be alert around him. It’s annoying. I hope you like it and once again sorry for the long wait. I am feeling a bit better now, so my imagination is getting better too hahahaha. Thank you for requesting, I love you, Bangtan loves you and so many more. Stay healthy and happy yeah? :)
‘’I hate you.’’ you cried out, hitting him over and over again with your pillow, silenty hiccuping after you calmed down from the shock. ‘’No sweety, I am sorry. I didn’t know.’’ Seokjin whined, grabbing the pillow from your grasp as he swung it away before trying to get you in his arms what failed miserably since you were still pissed at him for doing this to you and so dodging his hugs.
‘‘Y/n? How do you call bees who give milk?’‘
Rolling your eyes,you couldn’t believe he was going to pull a lame joke right now however you could already feel the corners of your mouth twitching, a smile trying to break free. ‘’Well how do you call them?’’ you looked at him, arms crossed over your chest as if that could ‘protect’ you from the joke he was about to tell.
Seokjin smiled his biggest smile at you, already having difficulties holding his laugh. This had you already cracking up more as you heard his contagious laugh.
You really tried to hold it together, you really tried to stay mad but hearing and seeing him laughing so loudly as he clapped in his hand you lost it. The joyful sound broke free from your lips and joined him. At that sound Seokjin perked up and brought you down with him, his arm under your neck as the night continued with laughter and jokes.
His friends thought it would be funny pranking you after seeing you hiding in Yoongi’s chest practically the whole movie since you told them you weren’t scared at all. Yoongi at first was against it but eventually decided that it couldn’t do any harm, so he thought.
Thus when he saw the fright in your eyes and tears streaming down your cheeks he would immediately pull you against him, apologizing over and over again while mentally punishing himself for doing this to you. He held you so tightly that he could feel your heart thumping fast.
After you calmed down, you smacked him across the head when you pulled back, mumbling swearwords under your breath. When you settled back on the bed and pulled the soft sheets around you tighter, you finally looked at Yoongi, who sat there, rubbing the place where your hand made contact with the back of his head. ‘’I deserve that’’ the quiet and soothing sound of his voice embraced the stillness of the night as your heart returned to it’s original pace and could feel the anger slipping off your body. You hated how much you loved his voice as it always could calm you down. Sighing you lay back down on the bed, eyeing the shape the lamp made on the ceiling when it was on. ‘’Yeah you deserve that’’ you replied with a quiet voice aswell not wanting to disturb the gentleness of the night. ‘’Come here.’’ patting the empty space beside you as you held up the covers, waiting for Yoongi to crawl in. The shuffeling sound and soon the warmth of his hand on your covered tummy and his body, you let the duvet fall down and snuggeled closer in his heat, intertwining your fingers with his.
‘‘Now, since I am still a bit shaken up after everything I don’t think I will be able to sleep soon…’‘ you trailed off, giggling when you saw his expression. ‘‘So you better tell me honeysweet stories until I fall asleep.’‘ you couldn’t help but snort when you heard him groan, realizing your revenge for not letting him sleep.
After a long, long day, you finally laid in bed with the softest pajama on you could find, with warm tea standing on the nightstand and a book in your hand you were ready for the evening. You had closed the curtains and turned the nightlamp on which gave the room a warm glow. Plus Hoseok would be home soon and you couldn’t wait to snuggle against him or holding him close to you and with that thought in your mind, you flipped open the book and began to read.
‘‘It’s probably nothing. Maybe it’s the neighbours.. or it’s just the sound of the house. They say that houses have sounds. It’s nothing.’‘ you told yourself after you heard the noise again. You weren’t someone who jumped to conclusions that quick but well… maybe you were getting a bit scared. It didn’t help that you watched a scary film yesterday with the boys knowing you would be more alert to sounds. Deciding that you would turn on the bedroom light to feel a bit more safe, you put down your book and swung your legs over the bed, landing them on the soft carpet.
Just when you had taken a step, you screamed it out, feeling like your heart was about to jump out of your ribcage and the only thing you could do was cry and kick, trying to get away, not daring to look what it was. The angst you felt was immense, tears streamed down your face and no words were able to leave your lips as the room filled with your heartbroken howls as you fell down with your head against the closet but you didn’t care, you were terrified and only wanted to get away.
‘‘No, no sweets! I didn’t mean to! Oh god.. what have I done?’‘ Hoseok pulled you up, burying your head in his chest as his arms enclosed around your body hoping you would feel safe and calm down. ‘‘Shhh y/n. it’s okay. You’re fine. Everything is fine. No-one is here. Only me. You’re safe.’‘ He whispered in your hair, stroking your back. ‘‘Y/n… I am so sorry! I didn’t think you would react like this. I am the shittiest boyfriend right now. I am really really sorry. How could I’ve been so stupid.’‘ He rambled on and on, hitting himself on the forehead repeatedly when you pulled back. Wiping your tears with your sleeve you couldn’t help but giggle seeing him hitting himself. ‘‘Yeah that was really shitty of you. It was not funny at all.’‘ the smile fell as you thought back, feeling the chills already running all over your body. ‘‘I know.’‘ Hoseok sighed. He shuffeled backwards, his back now against the frame of the bed and opened his legs. His hands shot towards your waist and pulled you closer, your back against his chest. Grabbing the fluffy plaid from the bed, he layed it over you and after that he snatched the book from the bed and circled his hand around you waist, his chin on your shoulder, pecking your neck in little kisses before he opened the book and began to read to you.
‘‘Namjoon stop! I know it’s you so it’s not working.’‘ You shouted from the kitchen, rolling your eyes when the lights flickered on and off again. ‘‘I told you I’m not doing anything! I am in the bathroom!’‘ His voice greeted you back.
‘‘Of course. Than why doesn’t it sound like your voice is coming from there?’‘
‘‘Don’t believe me if you don’t wanna.’‘ he said, this time a little bit softer but you could still here him. ‘‘Jerk.’‘ you mumbled. Again the lights flickered and this time you had enough. You were getting irritated. He knew you were sensitive with these things especially when he showed a clip from a scene from a movie with this kind of thing and well it haunted you for a couple of days. So you couldn’t help but getting angry. ‘‘Namjoon I swear, If I see you playing with the switches I will kill you.’‘ you breathed, walking towards the hall ready to kick his ass except when you got there, the lights flickered before shutting off completely as sweat started to appear on your back. Taking a deep breath, you walked farther, shuffeling your way to the bathroom as Namjoon said he was there to your surprise he actually was in the bathroom. Darkness greeted you, and your heart quickened its pace but then a cold sensation touched your body, followed by warm breath slipping past your neck, and so you screamed it out, jumping towards your boyfriend but not without a hard kick against something behind you.
The familiar groan that filled the room, had you halting in your steps. No way, no freaking way! Is this a freaking joke? and when Namjoon’s laughter reached your ears, you were done. You were furious. With loud and angry steps you switched on the lights and came face to face with Taehyung, who rubbed his sore shin.
‘‘Fuck you!’‘ Was the only thing you said and left the room, pushing through the other members who were standing outside the door. With a loud slam, you let them know you were in your bedroom and very pissed at that.
‘‘y/n.. I am sorry. I thought…. I guess I crossed the line with this. I didn’t want to scare you. I really didn’t want that. It’s just… I actually didn’t know why I agreed to this.’‘
‘‘You know I don’t like these things.’‘ you whispered into the pillow, not sure if Namjoon could hear you. ‘‘But you still did.’‘
‘‘I know, and even a I am sorry is not enough. But I hope free ice cream for a whole year can make you feel a bit better?’‘ His hands gently gripped your shoulders and rolled you onto your back so he could look into your shining eyes. Traces of angry tears left on your cheek. ‘‘A year?’‘ your soft voice asked him. ‘‘hmmmm and lots of cuddles.’‘ he carefully smiled back, laying your head on his lap and stroked your hair.
The rattling of the picture frames on the wall told him you were fuming as he stared at the door where you just left. He was dazed not really processing what actually just happened. What was supposed to be an innocent prank led to this? He didn’t really know what to do at the moment and so he just looked confused at the door.
The thought of you with tears breaming in your eyes, the thought of you walking alone late at night was something his brain didn’t process yet as the only thought that swam in his mind was ‘What just happened?’ However when the sounds of the clock in the linvingroom reached his ears, he finally seemed to snap out of it. His gaze landed on his wrist and his eyes widened in shock when he saw it was midnight. ‘’Shit! No, no, no, no!’’ fear filled his body immediately everything suddenly made sense. How could he be so stupid.
shooting on his shoes he was out of the house with a flash, fishing his phone out of his pocket and called Taehyung knowing he was still awake at this time. Well he wasn’t really sure why he was calling him as if he could tell him where you were but he was still a bit stunned and two minds were better than one in this scenario.
‘‘Yo Jimin what’s up?’‘ Taehyung had picked up surprisingly fast since Jimin knew he was playing a game and everyone knew he really didn’t took in his surroundings when was gaming. ‘‘A weird question? Is y/n perhaps with you guys?’‘ He really hoped you were, even if it was a small chance but Jimin knew you were smart enough to not stroll alone at night. Biting his lip in anticipation waiting for Tae’s answer.
‘‘Jimin?’‘ Taehyung sighed on the other end of the line. Jimin didn’t reply.
‘‘Lucky for you she is. What did you do man? Ugh the sight of her really pained my heart. You better hurry and make it up to her. Eventhough I knew you were the source behind her appearance like that, she really needs you right now.’‘ And with that the line went dead.
‘‘y/n! Come here!’‘ Jimin threw himself at you, pulling you in the tightest hug you had ever been in. ‘‘Can you forgive me for this? I’m such an asshole right now. I went to far with this one. You worried me so much! I love you, I love you, I love you.’‘
You knew Jimin was coming to the dorm, but him barging up to you like that and lifting you up from the couch to squeeze you like a stressball was not something you expected but you felt safe in his arms, his scent and warmth caressing your body. ‘’I’m sorry I reacted like this.’’ you muttered in his shirt, tightening your hold around his back. Jimin pulled back, his eyes locking with yours and gave you the warmest smile ever. ‘’You shouldn’t apologize sweets, I thought it was okay but I should have known better. Gosh I am the biggest idiot alive right now.’’
‘‘But I love my idiot. You still need punishment though.’‘ Putting playfully your finger against your lips, you started to think. ‘‘Ah! I know something!’‘
You turned around, quickly giving hugs to the others who had taken you in at this time at night and thanked them before you grabbed your man’s hand and led him towards the door. ‘’What are you doing?’’ Jimin questioned you as he again looked rather confused. ‘’Its a surprise.’’ you winked and shot him a smirk as you led him out of the dorm. And Jimin? Well let’s just say his cheeks coloured like a beautiful emerald sky.
‘‘Uhm what exactly is going on here?’‘ Yoongi asked no one in particular as he watched you ignoring Taehyung again. Seeing his younger friend desperately searching for your affection. ‘‘He fucked up. that’s what is going on.’‘ Seokjin laughed as he too watched how his dongsaeng tried to get you to say something
‘‘DId you hear that too?’‘ Taehyung’s eyes were wide when they met yours. ‘‘Tae stop! It’s not funny. I didn’t hear anything.’‘ Although you scoffed at him, you couldn’t help but to get closer to him, your eyes trained at the door. ‘’I’m just going to look what is going on. Wait here babe.’’ Taehyung pulled the covers off and got out of bed, your eyes following his figure until he dissapeared in the hallway. you knew he was bullshitting you, you weren’t that stupid but still you were getting a bit nervous, the movie Taehyung suggested tonight going through your mind. When you were about to go for ‘Fuck it’, getting back to sleep, his scream was heard loudly through the apartment. Rolling your eyes, you complained under your breath as you pulled the covers off you, slipped into your warm slippers and stepped your way to the kitchen. ‘’Keeping me awake at this time of night. He should know better. He knows he shouldn’t deprive me of my sleep, ass.’’ Turning on the lights, you were about to set Taehyung straight but the sight that greeted you, made your stomach turn. Red liquid everywhere. Splattered against the cabinets, on the floor and lastly on Taehyung. He leaned on the counter, whimpering in pain while holding his stomach.
You just stood there, gaping at everything, feeling the burn in your eyes, your tears trying to escape their way to freedom. You couldn’t believe he would go so far for scaring you, did he thought he was being funny. Doing as if he was hurt was a freaking joke to him?
‘‘I can’t believe you.’‘ you managed to get out before the dam broke, tears now freely streaming down as you just stood in the kitchen, crying your heart out. The thought of him hurt, crushed your heart.
This startled Taehyung as it wasn’t the reaction he thought he would receive from you. It was now him who felt like someone just shot an arrow in his heart. The sight of you standing there, hands near your sides and just openly sobbed made him feel like a total jerk.
Slapping his hand away when he stood before you, trying to bring you in his arms, you turned around, going back to the bedroom, angry wiping your tears from your cheeks as you hiccuped and crawled back in bed, the blankets comforting you. And the whole night you shrugged his attempts to console you off, really hurt what he did.
‘‘Woaaaa, he is lucky he didn’t have to sleep on the couch. That’s what I would have done.’‘ Yoongi answered after Seokjin told him everything. ‘’Well it seems like Taehyung got her to forgive him.’‘ Hoseok spoke up, sitting down beside Jimin. All his friends looked at him, asking silently how he knew this. Hoseok laughed, pointing a finger to the corridor. ‘‘When I came in, Taehyung sat on his knees and begged her to forgive him and after a smack on the head, she kneeled down aswell and pecked him on the lips. Not before telling him she would kill him if he ever does that again. plus he needs to clean the bathroom for 2 weeks.’‘
With his arms tightly holding you, your face pressed against his chest, you both sat down on the bathroomfloor as he rocked you back and forth, his fingers rubbing circles on your lower back as he let you cry. Jungkook could feel you shaking, your hands clutching the back on his shirt as if you were afraid to let him go. He was taken aback, he didn’t expect this reaction from you. But than again, scaring people like that wasn’t always received well and knowing how jumpy and easily scared you were, he should have approached it better. You didn’t mind pranks, Jungkook knew that too and most of the time you laughed with him after you calmed down your heart, but now he was sitting on the cold floor, trying to shush you.
How could he be so freaking dumb. Scaring you like that after the horror movie you finally agreed to watch with him, since he pleaded you to go with him for weeks. How could he hide in the closet waiting for you to lay in bed, ready to go to sleep and then jump out of it, pouncing on the bed, holding you down.
The utter fear in your eyes he saw when he looked down, the tears which instantly pooled in your eyes as he watched them pour out, trickling down your cheekbones as they ended up swallowed by the soft pillow. He saw when you finally got back to reality and pushed him off of you with a loud scream, stumbling your way out of the bedroom. Jungkook quickly followed you, grapping your arm and swiftly turned you around, trapping you in his arms. You didn’t fight him, just holding him close to you, trying to calm down your beating heart, trying to calm down your breathing as you cried and fell down on the floor, your legs shaken up from the scare, feeling Jungkook fall down with you, still holding you close to him, silenty humming your favourite song in the hope you would quiet down and it did. The sound of his soft voice, the lullaby you loved so much got you to stop crying and were now just breathing gently. Your hands letting go the tight grip you had on his shirt and were now gently holding his arms.
‘‘Are you feeling better?’‘ Jungkook asked you softly, holding you at arms length so he could look into your eyes. It was strange to him but everytime you cried your eyes looked so mesmerizing. They showed your innocence, They showed how you still embraced your inner child and the most fascinating was how open they looked. They say eyes are the mirrors of the soul and it was definitely true. You looked so open and vulnerable, he could see the things he loved so much about you, that lots of people weren’t allowed to see.
‘‘I am.’‘ you shot a tired smile and wiggled back in his arms. ‘‘I am such a coward. Crying like a five year old.’‘ you scoffed at yourself, feeling embarrased for reacting like that. Hearing him sigh, you looked up at him from his chest and saw he was looking down already. ‘‘No you’re not. Everyone is scared of something and I am pretty sure everyone would have a scare like you if I did it to them. Yoongi would have killed me already.’‘ he chuckled, wrapping your hands in his. ‘‘I am sorry y/n. I will never do it again. Will you accept my apology?’‘
‘‘How can I stay mad when I am wrapped in the most comforting and safe blanket.’‘ you laughed and held him close.
A/N: I really made this dramatic, didn’t I? Woops. if you find grammar mistakes that really really annoys you, please tell me so I can fix it! Feedback is always appreciated.
Softly glowing twin bedside lamps, illuminating the master bedroom’s sophisticated coziness. A four-poster bed the centrepiece of the nest, and in it, two pyjama clad figures. One curled around a small fluffy dog, tapping away on the abrasive light of a smartphone, the other opting for the timeless comfort of a good book just before sleep.
A phone is turned off, and a burning flame of curiosity sparks against the flint of calm.
Eggsy says his lover’s name both as a question and a statement. The elder man looks up from the novel Eggsy found him in Harrods last week, that he’s been utterly devouring, and appraises him with a slight lift of his eyebrows.
“Was just thinking….” Eggsy scratches tiny Hamish’s ears, and the dog wriggles with delight on the cushioned bedcovers. Harry rests his novel on duvet, and adjusts his position against the grand wooden bedhead.
“D'you ever take your eyepatch off?”
The former Galahad digests Eggsy’s question for a silent moment. “Well I take it off in the shower, yes.” He gently slips a bookmark between two pages of his novel, clearly conscious of the leather pad strapped upon his face.
“And when I must wear my glasses, for work.” Harry’s tone carries a lilt that suggests Eggsy knows this already, but is unsure of what his partner is getting at.
“Yeah, I know babe,” Eggsy replies, propping himself up on an elbow. His bare chest and arm provide a cosy nook for Hamish, who immediately snuggles his tiny body in. “But d'you ever like, just leave it off? Like no glasses or nothin’.”
“Was just curious, s'all,” the dirty blond adds as an afterthought. His eyes traverse Harry’s features, in an attempt to gauge a reaction.
The taller man replaces his book on the nightstand, folding his hands in his lap. “No. Not really, no.”
The question hangs suspended in the mild air, waiting for one of the two men to snatch it up.
When Harry doesn’t jump to respond, Eggsy supplements the question with, “Just wondering, I spose. Cos’ you’ve never really taken it off in front of me ever.”
Once again, Harry’s answer seems carefully measured, as though the man planned it carefully. “Well, until now, you’ve never expressed any desire for me to. So I just did as I do when in public, and cover it. It makes no difference.”
But by the slight tremor in Harry’s voice, and the stiffening of his spine against the cold headboard of the bed, imperceptible to the untrained eye, it clearly does. As much as Harry tries to hide it.
“I think it does. Make a difference, I mean, babe.”
“Are you implying you’re comfortable with me removing the patch?”
“Of course I am.” Eggsy’s tone is full of feeling compared to his partner’s reserved one. Yet the older man studiously refuses to meet his eyes, gazing down at the intricately patterned duvet beneath his hands. Hamish snuffles in his sleep.
“Harry.” Definitely a question, this time, though softer in hue. “Will you show me?
Please.” Eggsy’s words have the weight of a single feather, landing soundlessly upon the mattress. A conflicted expression passes over Harry’s face having his young lover reconsider such a heavy request. Yet after some thoughtful, brooding stalling by lamplight, a murmured ‘yes’ still exhales from close lips.
Gently shifting the sleeping puppy away from his limbs, Eggsy scoots over in bed, so his warm frame presses into Harry’s. The mood between them has intrinsically shifted, a crackle of apprehension and intensity between them both.
Sliding down with his hands to meet Eggsy in the bed, Harry rests his head on the same pillow. Inhaling, exhaling, he stares up at the ceiling. With rigid, mechanical movements, trembling hands gently reach behind, into the thick, short waves of chestnut hair, and ease off the sturdy band that keeps the eyepatch in place.
Eggsy waits with bated breath as turning away, Harry deposits the eyepatch on the nightstand with his book, and lays his head back onto the pillow. But the older spy keeps his face toward the ceiling, so only the unmarred side of his profile is visible to Eggsy.
“Are you certain.” The waver in Harry’s voice is a whisper of anxiety, only those closest to him can detect. Eggsy hears it instantly. The tiniest inkling that the usually unshakeable gentleman, who could kill in a heartbeat, was actually afraid.
A smaller hand slips over to rest soothingly on Harry’s sternum, feeling the rise and fall of his lungs. Harry grabs it like a lifeline.
“Absolutely,” Eggsy murmurs steadily.
Connection, familiarity, intimacy. It isn’t always the art of love-making, of twin nudity, or anything outrightly sexual at all.
It’s the lightest of brushes with pinky fingers as lovers walk through their neighbourhood, leashed dog trotting happily in front. Randomly gifting a partner a book theyve never heard of, but are sound in the knowledge they will like, because it sounds like the ones they’ve read before. Afternoons in the garden in summertime, with a gin and tonic and The Sun, getting utterly drenched by a dog mid-wash, but unable to keep a smile away when a boyfriend swoops in for a kiss that tastes like sweat and dog shampoo.
Communication with but a glance. The twitch of a jaw muscle or setting of eyes that says more than words ever will.
It’s Eggsy seeing Harry remove that last, tissue paper barrier between them with methodical, distant hands, even as his eyes swim with intense emotion, jaw set. And then rolling over, to bare all.
Intimacy is letting your lover touch a part of you you barely let yourself go near, with the brush of a single finger over rippled, convoluted flesh.The few inches of skin that are a visual reminder of so much pain, both physical and psychological, of stained glass windows, high white ceilings and splintered pew seats and blood and gore and rage and a single gunshot. Of angry goodbyes that might have been forever, if not for some nanobots, alphagel, and little Hamish, who yipped in his slee, a fluffy croissant unaware of his crucial role in an agonising road to recovery. Everything they had gained, everyone they had lost, all came down to a piece of scar tissue.
The part of you that makes you recoil in disgust at its sight, and hide away with trembling hands. For fear that your lover will react the same way, and shy away, because you are no longer whole.
Eggsy takes Harry’s face in a steady hand, and presses the tiniest breath of a kiss to Harry’s trembling, ruined eyelid.
Because the truth is, the part of you that turns your stomach is the part they see no difference in. And love, just as unconditionally and endlessly as the rest of you.
“I told you, Harry. I love you, all of you. Always have. One eye or both.”
Hamish the sleepy yorkie wiggles over to the two big waterbottles in his bed, both of which seem to be leaking, and curls up between them with a final huff of contentment.
Summary: Bill likes to sketch so he sketches Reader when he’s bored or thinking of them, which he always thinks about them. He leaves for a second and Reader finds the book and Bill is embarrassed. Stuff happens and it’s pretty angsty.
Pairing: Bill Denbrough x Reader (they/them)
Warnings: Uncomfortable silence and bad writing by yours truly.
A/N: Bill is one of my favorite Losers. Also, I plan to maybe make a part 2 if people like this.
I swung my legs back and forth on the couch while waiting for Bill to come downstairs so we could be ready for the sleepover we’d planned. We originally invited Beverly, but she’d skipped out and said she’d be going to a family reunion in the next town over. I sighed and stared down at my shorts and worn out white t-shirt. Hopefully, Bill doesn’t mind that I used old clothes as a sleeping outfit.
“I suh-set up my ruh-ruh-room and got Duh-Donkey Kong uh-on,” Bill’s footsteps were barely noticeable and I was surprised to hear his soft voice from the stairs. I smiled and stood up, carrying my heavy but thin blanket with me while we both walked upstairs. Bill stopped at the doorway and gasped to himself before turning back around. “I fuh-forgot the soda,” I chuckled to myself while he ran past me and almost slipped while he bolted to the kitchen.
Bill’s room was colder than downstairs, his window was open and letting in the air freely. I noticed both of his pillows were covering something in the side of his bed. I curiously walked over and lifted the first one and saw the corner of a book page. It wasn’t a written book, it was a sketchbook. I removed the second pillow and stared in awe at what was on the paper.
There was a heavy blue sketched picture of me, my hair was floating around like waves in an ocean and I was at a loss for words by the poetic like drawing. It was Bill’s, and he was drawing me. But, he’d always draw Beverly. Could it be that he didn’t really like me the way I like him? I sighed and placed the sketchbook into my lap as I sat Indian style on his bed. I bounced a bit and turned the page back, only to see more detailed sketches of me.
Maybe I was right. Maybe he drew me because I’m his friend. But these other sketches say otherwise because they’re not of me in some dorky pose. They’re elegant and breathtaking in ways words couldn’t describe. I prepared to flip another page before Bill walked in with a six-pack of sodas in his arms.
“I guh-got the good kuh-kind…,” His voice trailed off once he saw his book in my hands. Bill hurriedly placed down the sodas on his nightstand and took his book from me to hide it under his shirt. I watched him do this before standing up and taking a step towards him, only for Bill to take a long step backward and into the hallway. “Yuh-yuh-you weren’t suh-supposed tuh-tuh-tuh-to see the-this,” His stutter gradually got worse the moment he saw me.
“Bill, it’s not something to be ashamed of,” I smiled softly and took a step back to the bed before sitting down. Bill was less tense and walked cautiously back into his room, the book still tucked under his shirt in embarrassment. “They’re amazing.”
Bill sat beside me and finally untucked his book, only keeping it held tightly against his chest. He looked at me with a confused look in his eyes. I could tell he was still upset, but I still wanted to see them. He was beautiful. I mean, his drawings were beautiful.
“Your drawings,” I cleared my throat and trained my eyes on his left hand, which was dangerously close to mine. I felt the urge to grab his hand and pull him in for a kiss if that’s what you even do with your best friend crush. I instead moved my hand a bit closer, “Your drawings are amazing.” I could just see his shy but happy smile, and as I looked up to him, low and behold, there was the smile.
He always smiled like that when Beverly passed by, or when she’d talk to him, or when she’d jump into the Quarry waters. But never was it directed towards me. Just the thought of him loving made my face red and my heart skipped a beat. I could see his laurel green eyes brighten at my words and that’s when I knew my cheeks and nose were painted pink.
“Thuh-thanks,” Bill smiled and looked down at the book in his lap. He paused a second while contemplating whether or not to show the entire book. I silently watched with my heart melting once he flipped to the first page. “Yuh-you know… I may-made this as a scrap buh-buh-book for me and you.” He traced over the cursive letters written inside the cover. “(Y/N) and Bill’s Loser Life” is what it read in thick blue letters.
I looked up to see Bill’s eyes wavering over the title for a second before flipping to the next page. The second was a page filled with miniature pictures of us as kids. I smiled as he flipped through and my eyes teared up as it passed the pictures of us being as close as siblings, then to the years where this crush on him started. I could feel his hand linger on a certain page, one that was filled with a big picture from last year.
That was the first year Beverly and Bill started dating for a few months before she had something for Ben. Bill’s eyes scanned the picture before he huffed softly and flipped to the next page, which was the one with sketches of me on it. Bill’s eyes widened and he looked over at me for my reaction, and all I could do was let a tear slip out from my watering eyes. He quickly closed the scrapbook and came to my rescue.
“(Y/N)? What huh-ha-happened? Why are you cruh-cry-crying?” He set his book down and scooted closer to me, his hand finally being put over mine. Once he spoke, the dam broke in my tear ducts and the waterworks came flowing. I could hear Bill’s breath hitch when I let my head hang low while I sobbed. He put his hand on my back and rubbed circles to try and comfort me, “Huh-hey, it’s okay. Yuh-you-you’re okay.”
I gripped his hand in mine and put my other up to rub my eyes in an attempt to stop the tears, but they wouldn’t stop and I felt embarrassed for crying in front of my best friend, my crush, actually. He didn’t seem to mind though, he just sat there with a concerned frown while trying to comfort me.
He thought I was crying because of the memories, but I only was crying because of the all-known fact that Bill still loved Beverly and only liked me as a friend. When Bill raised his hand to brush hair past my ear, I flinched back and moved away from him. His eyebrows furrowed and he looked almost heartbroken.
“Suh-sorry..,” Bill muttered to me and stood up to wipe his palms on his shorts before placing his book in his nightstand drawer. I regretted the action that made him sad and move away from me, but it was what was best for both him and me. He should be with someone who he loves that loves him too, I just wasn’t that person.
A/N: Hey guys!! I’m so sorry for taking so long to post!! I was just a bit busy the past few days haha😅 Anyways, I’m sorry again because I didn’t know what kind of difficulties to write because I’m not really, um, good at that area but I hope you don’t mind!! Anyways, enjoy!!
Request: Hey darling. Well I could need a bit distraction so I thought I could send you a request. A Steve Rogers imagine where his wife is pregnant with their first baby so they’re both excited and nervous. Later while Steve is on a mission she gets admitted to the hospital cause of some difficulties with the baby & it also needs to be operated. So Steve rushes home immediately and is there for them but it all turns out fine and he takes care of her all the time. When the baby is born it’s all perfect?
“We’ll be fine,” you said, smiling as you
patted your husband on the chest.
Steve looked at you, reluctant to leave
“The baby isn’t due for about three weeks,
and besides if anything happens, Bucky is here,” you assured him. Steve glanced
at his best friend who smiled and clapped his hand on his friend’s shoulder.
“I’ll take care of her,” Bucky said, before
glancing and smiling at your protruding belly. “And the little one.”
“I know you will,” Steve sighed before
letting a smile slip on his face as he leaned down and gave you a chaste kiss. “I’ll
be back soon.”
You pushed him in the direction of the
quinjet before waving. “Be back soon, dear, love you!”
A missing scene from the night Ed tells Oswald he’d do anything for him. However did Oswald end up wearing that robe again the following morning?
“You can always count on me,” Ed says. Oswald folds him into an embrace.
“Thank you,” he says, and he can’t stop smiling. The hug is long, and tender. Ed hooks his chin over Oswald’s shoulder and he marvels at how well they fit together, the outcome unexpected but welcome. He doesn’t want to let go, pulling Ed tighter to him, fingers digging into the robe.
Ed coughs, and Oswald jerks back. “I’m sorry, please, you should finish the tea.”
Ed picks up the cup and takes a small sip, “That was nice. And so is the tea.”
Oswald laughs, ducking his head and blushing. “I never pegged you for a hugger.”
“I don’t tend to think of you in that way, either,” Ed replies impishly, peering at him over the lip of the cup.
“Well, there’s more where that came from,” Oswald jokes, running a hand across Ed’s shoulders. He slots Ed under his arm, holding onto his right shoulder and keeping them pressed together while Ed finishes his tea. There’s a small smile on his face, letting Oswald know the gesture is not unwelcome.
“Did your mother hug you often?” Ed asks quietly. Oswald is startled by the question, but mostly he feels a little nostalgic.
“She did. They were very comforting… I miss her every day.” Ed nods.
“You give very good hugs,” he says, “You must have learned that from her.” Oswald feels something warm in his chest at the idea that his mother has somehow passed that skill onto him; it makes him feel closer to her, to her memory.
“Thank you,” he says instead, squeezing Ed’s shoulder. “You should probably get some rest, it’s been a long night.”
Pairing: Dean Winchester x fem!Reader (Supernatural)
Prompt: Soulmate AU where you get a book at birth in which each page is a day and each chapter is a year. Each day, you get some information about their day, some things they said, some things they felt, some activities. Also, the last thing in the book will be the first words they said to you.
Requested?: Yes, by me.
Word count: 4,500 (Damn, that’s long)
(A/N): this is not my idea. Normally I write down from who I stole it, but I forgot. So if you know who made this idea, let me know! & I am obsessed with Supernatural and I love Dean! SO, that’s why! Heehee;)
Dean Winchester had always loved reading his book. The book about his soulmate, the only connection between them. At young age, he was confused as why her parents were so strict. She needed to run, and swim and at age seven, his soulmate got a knife for her birthday. But what was weird was that she didn’t seem to mind. Dean soon understood she was a hunter, just like he was becoming. That didn’t scare him. He knew she, as his soulmate, would be able to handle herself.
When Dean got older, he loved reading about her even more. She was really smart and good, she worked mostly alone and loved llama’s, which he thought was pretty amusing. He liked how she always was pretty happy, no matter what her injuries or the job was. The book said her smile was one to die for. He liked how she could flirt with boys, just for information. He liked how she was funny and drank tea with alcohol and drank tequila after each job. He fell in love with her, slowly and not because of her looks. He didn’t know how she would look. He hoped she was pretty.
Dean and Sam were at a motel, there was a job close by, but they wouldn’t make it there until tomorrow. Sam was in the shower, so Dean had a little bit time for him alone. Out of his bag, he took the already large book. Each chapter represented a year, and he was glad the book was so big, meaning she was still alive. The last few days, he hadn’t been able to read the book because of his research and the job. He had to catch up on a few days.
Walking around, driving in a car.
“I like chicken nuggets, but tart is better.”
She winked at the guy, whose mouth hung open. He wasn’t used to girl that pretty hitting on him.
Her eyes were tired, but this night would be sleepless, she would have to do research if she wanted to finish the job tomorrow.
Dean grinned, this was how he knew her, totally random, yet very determent. She liked to get a move on things.
Her boots were tight, she had checked that tree times already. Her dark shirt and pants were tight and easy to fight in. She took her bag and jumped in the jeep. The house was quiet, but she knew that the ghost of Julie could show up at any moment. Pain took over as something hit her in the back of her head. With a groan, she turned around, shotgun ready. She missed. She really needed to find that stupid box.
After what seemed like hours of reading, Dean relaxed. She was safe, mildly hurt but safe. That was the one thing he always hoped. That she would be alive, breathing and mentally healthy. He knew how it was to lose someone you care about, and he couldn’t lose her, not before they had met. Dean wasn’t really afraid she would die on a job, she had proven how good she was plenty of times.
“Reading about your soulmate?” Sam spoke and Dean looked up, Sams tone was slightly teasingly.
“So what? Everyone does.” Dean stated, calm, unamused. He saw Sam grin slightly.
Y/n didn’t like reading about her soulmate. She had read too much over the pain he had been through. She had read about his mothers death, and her parents had explained her everything. They didn’t know what had killed her, but it was something supernatural. She had read about how his father wasn’t really a good father. She had read about him being hungry a lot because he gave his little brother more food. That broke her heart. She wasn’t one to pity, and she told herself she didn’t pity him, but she wished he had had a better childhood, at least.
She walked out of the warm shower, her hair falling damp over her shoulders when she sat on her bed. Y/n really wanted to read her book, she always hoped she would read he was happy that day, even when he was happy for weeks, she would still hope he was happy. She hesitated. She always did. Swallowing hard, she took the book from the nightstand. The book felt heavy on her lap.
He and his brother sneaked into the dark building, under the police tape to the house. His brother was first. The remains of the ghost where in the house, they only needed to find it before the ghost found them. They started from the basement, they had no clue where the body could be. He screamed, yelled for his brother to duck before firing. The ghost vanished, but they knew he would come back. He said that his brother needed to search upstairs, they didn’t have much time. He went downstairs, stairs made a lot of noise. His flashlight gave him some light. He opened doors, cabins, closets. But he noticed the newer wall. The bricks still had color. he yelled for his brother, not wanting him to be in more danger then needed. His brother stumbled it, gun ready. Together they broke down the wall, and an old corpse rolled out. Salt and burn. This job was done.
Y/n wanted more information, she always wanted more. But she knew that she wouldn’t. She hoped they would meet soon. Y/n didn’t want to go to sleep, even though she was tired. So, longing for her soulmate, she read her favorite parts again. The parts where he was happy, where he had a reason to smile. That always made her heart warm.
Dean and Sam Winchester sat in a diner, talking about the job.
“So, you think it is a vengeful spirit?” Sam asked Dean, leaning in over the table.
“Yes, I think it is. I mean, people disappearing near a forest? I checked it, and each year, in one week, this week, every night at least one person disappears. And that for seven days.” Dean took a sip out his cup.
“Okay, this is a job. But where do we start?” Dean wanted to answer that question, but then something caught his eye. No, a someone. A young woman walked past. Her hair fell over shoulders, decoration her leather jacket. She had a very tight pair of jeans on, and high heels. Dean didn’t notice she stood slightly unstable on the shoes. When she stopped by a table, Dean saw her red lips, flirty smile and low cut tank top. The man she talked to asked her to sit, and Dean couldn’t tear his eyes away from her. Even though there was obvious flirting, she didn’t seen interested. He wondered why she sat by him.
“Dean,” Sam started. “are you even listening?” Dean teared his eyes away from the beautiful woman.
“Yes, of course I was.”
Only a few hours had passed, Dean would talk to a few people, and Sam, Sam would do some more research. Dean chose a house which was very close to the forest. It if was a spirit, then maybe they would know. He knocked on the door and was surprised when he saw the man the beautiful woman had flirted with.
“Hello, I’m from the police. I wanted to ask you a few questions about last night disappearance.” Dean smiled and the man, a slight hint of envy in his eyes.
“Come in.” He said and stepped aside. Inside the house it was cold, most things were dark and there were no flowers. he wouldn’t be surprised if he smelled death.
Once Dean sat, he started to ask questions. until he couldn’t help it anymore.
“So, you home alone? I mean if your girlfriend is here I would like to ask her a few questions.” Dean asked casually.
“I don’t have a girlfriend.” the man almost snapped.
“Easy there, I just thought you had because you are so gentle.” Dean gave the man a sarcastic smile, he had everything he needed.