The Pitt is baby's first fandom for so many people. Wdym I should hate Langdon, because he was stealing pills and treating patients high? I was 9 years old watching Dr House pop 3 stolen Vicodin with a half bottle of Whiskey and then treating the Black Plague. Who am I to judge?
summary: oh no! there's only one bed! that's it. that's the plot.
suggested listening: 'honey' by taylor swift (the new album is good and i will stand behind that opinion)
estimated word count: 2.9k whoops
author's note: this is my first fic back from an impressively long break, and my first go at writing for the rookie in particular. please be kind, and also please leave notes, comments, etc. on how you think i'm doing! my content is just as much for you guys as it is for me. also this is very plot heavy and i promise i will do more men who yearn at a different time. i just needed this particular daydream out of my brain.
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The plan for the undercover operation you were currently on was simple enough. Tim's doppelgΓ€nger, aptly called Dim by those at Mid-Wilshire, had gotten involved in another bought of drug running. Dim reached out to Tim, begging for help locating Sava, claiming weeks went by without her contacting him. Under the guise of another drug and money run, Tim would go undercover and help in finding Sava. However, Tim and Lucy were not the only ones at Mid-Wilshire with a criminal lookalike. Yours, much to your chagrin, had yet to be given a funny rhyming name. Nonetheless, your criminal twin tangled themselves into this running with Dim and Juicy, and once Lopez realized there was a third lookalike running around, she immediately roped you into the op.
The bosses Dim reported to reached out a day prior, arranging a hand-off of money and drugs at a San Francisco Bay casino, and that was your in. The following morning, at 4 a.m., you arose to the sound of your alarm, makeup befitting of a classy criminal hastily applied.
Aside from nerves, the only constant you felt throughout the course of the day was Tim. An arm around you as you stood in the plane hangar, finally undercover, attempting to sell that you were a couple. A hand resting on your knee during the flight, with you perched on the arm of Tim's airplane seat. Calloused fingers threading through yours making your way off the plane. The ghost of his fingers on your back as he guided you through the casino with the crew, ensuring you were never too far ahead of him.
In the day's beginning, you were too tense about this being your first undercover operation, despite two years in the department, to really notice much. As the operation stretched on, meetings in motel parking lots and gas station meal stops peppered in, you began noticing where Tim was in space and time. You noticed your breaths deepen at the slightest hint of prolonged contact. Your head, on a swivel for most of the day, stilled when you caught a whiff of Tim's cologne behind you, present beneath the sweat and grit of the day. Among the shuffle of people you interacted with inside the casino as the night started, you searched for his blue eyes across the crowd, easing once you found them and realized he was already looking at you.
During your time at Mid-Wilshire, you never were able to get a read on Tim. Not able to understand him in the way Lopez did, given their history, or Lucy, given that he was her training officer. You had spoken, sure, but mostly about cases. You were much more likely to divulge personal details in the shop than he was, even threatening to kick you out and make you walk on several occasions. Even during drinks after shift, he kept mostly to himself, while you, attempting to make friends with a new team of officers, desperately overshared stories. It earned you a confidant in Lucy and Lopez, Harper had even entrusted you with babysitting gigs when no one else was available. Tim, however, remained relatively unchanged. At least to your eyes.
Lopez and Harper, ever the enigmatic duo, on the other hand, desperately wished you could see the way Tim's eyes followed you around the station. It didn't escape them that when you send out a request for backup, he was always the first to respond, even if he wouldn't be first to your aid. Even Nolan commented that he believed Tim would ask you out when the next time the team went out for drinks after shift, Tim found his way next to you for the course of the night and actually cracked a smile when you told a story embarrassing enough that it sent everyone into splits of laughter. After that, Tim took jabs at you about the stories you shared, and when his sister showed up at the station, you pried her for material on Tim. The day you mentioned a certain story about Tim falling off a bike, he swore that he would never allow you within 100 feet of his sister ever again. Still, you hadn't believed anything about your relationship with Tim had changed.
Lopez called it hopeless, but Harper saw the opportunity presenting itself when setting you two up for the operation. Not like the ever growing betting pool, regrettably managed by Smitty, was growing by the day, under the suspiciously watchful eye of Grey had anything to do with anyone's motivation.
The night in the casino finally began winding down. Bartenders and musicians alike announced last call. Bottles clinked on server's tray as they maneuvered through the dwindling crowd. Exhaustion settled in your bones. The makeup you applied at 5 a.m. that morning had either long worn off or became shiny with the day's grease. Your press-on nails, long and black, were making it impossible to do any task normally, and you were picking at them in hopes of ripping them off by the time you got up to your room.
The men you were with insisted upon card game upon card game, drink after drink, and according to your lookalike's history, would've flirted with them all night instead of stay with your significant other, Dim/Tim. And so stay away you did. A few lone men at the cards tables were decent conversationalists, despite their involvement in felonious activity. One even had a college degree in English and debating the themes of Jane Austen's Pride & Prejudice with you after several drinks, earning shit-talking from his associates, but a nice reprieve from the heaviness of the operation for you. After hoisting several of them from their seats and pairing them off with those less intoxicated, you and Tim finally found yourselves in front of the elevators destined to take you to your room.
"So," you began, "Who gets first shower when we get up to the room?" You glanced up at Tim, seeing the lines begin to settle into his face as the clock on his watch inched closer to 3 a.m.
He sighed, shifting his weight as you awaited your ride up. "You can if you want. I don't know about you, but I'm seeing if we can still get food at this hour."
"You are the man of my dreams. I was about to ask about ordering in." You felt your cheeks heat up, realizing what you had said. "I'm so sorry, I don't know why I said that, I guess my mouth got ahead of my brain, I -," you rushed out. You couldn't bear to look at him. He admittedly was the man of your dreams, but leave it to you in a sleep deprived state to actually tell him. If you had looked at him, you would've seen the faintest blush across his own cheeks, reaching the tips of his ears.
The ride up to the hotel room was mercifully quiet, and horribly awkward. When the elevator stopped at your floor, you raced out, frantically searching the numbered signs for an indication of your room. Leaving Tim behind you, you raced down the hallway, eyes searching door numbers. You knew the department had booked one hotel room for the both of you, which up until this point, was something you were looking forward to. Now, as you heard Tim catch up with you, and as you unlocked the door and stumbled into the room, flicking on the lights, it was looking like it'd be your worst nightmare.
You heard the door slam behind you, and you didn't realize how close Tim was to you until you swore you heard his breath catch when he finally saw what you did. The queen bed, centered on the long wall of the room, loomed in front of you both. The pillows were arranged neatly. The sheets were pulled tight across the bed. In any other like, you would be happy to shower and fall right into it. Except now, you'd be falling into it next to Tim.
"I, um, am gonna shower, if that's okay," you whispered.
"Yeah, go for it," Tim whispered back, clearing his throat. "Anything you want for food?"
You paused your running around the room to find towels and soaps long enough to simply reply, "Fries, if they have it, please." You glanced over, meeting Tim's eyes, while that warm feeling returned to your cheeks.
You resumed your trip to the bathroom, towels in hand, and kicked the door shut behind you, working your shirt over your head. You heard Tim stutter a moment before you heard him reply, "Yeah, of course."
Curious, as you had never heard Tim speak any way other than forcefully or confidently, you turned to add something, anything to diffuse the tension, when you noticed the door still slightly cracked open. More importantly, you noticed the direct line of sight to the bed upon which Tim perched, brow creased, looking at the menu as though it were the greatest book he ever read. Slowly, you crept towards the door enough to fully shut it, and stepped into the most lukewarm, but relaxing shower of your life.
When you stepped out, you donned one of the hotel's robes and dried your hair with a towel. You stepped into the room, where Tim sat at a small table eating his food, your plate of fries across from him. A small pile of clothes sat folded at the edge of the bed.
Tim met your gaze as you sat. "I had Lopez get us some clothes in advance and tuck them in the closet in the event we stayed overnight," he said.
"Well that's good. I hadn't thought about staying here. I figured we'd be out by now," you replied, gathering a few fries.
"Me too. Apparently it's unusual that this crew parties this hard, but I guess they couldn't be stopped tonight."
"That's for sure," you began. "I tried excusing myself no less than three times, and each time, a different person sat me down and insisted I was being a buzzkill if I left early."
Tim quirked an eyebrow and leaned back in his chair. "Well, that means you played your part well. According to Lopez, they're hesitant to let newcomers on trips, much less stay for an entire night. So you can consider it a job well done when we're out of here."
"Well thank you Tim. I think I appreciate that."
Late night dinner lasted longer than you anticipated, trading volleys with Tim over the necessity of undercover work, how you did on your first attempt at it, and giggling at his complaints of the grease in his hair. The most you two discussed about the sleeping situation was Tim insisting he would take the floor, while you insisted that you were grown adults who could share a bed for a night.
Tim wiped his hands on his jeans and stood from his seat, excusing himself to the shower with no resolution on the bed-sharing front, except a grumbled comment about how it was okay for you to go to sleep without him. And as much as you wanted to fight him on it, full from your meal, you couldn't wait for the most uncomfortable sleep of your life on shitty hotel pillows. Confirming the bathroom door was shut this time, you changed into the clothes left for you, an oversized t-shirt and sweatpants. You climbed under the sheets and reached over the click the bedside lamp off, casting the room into darkness, save for the light coming from under the bathroom door.
You lost track of how much time you spent tossing and turning trying to get comfortable, realizing that Tim was in the shower less than 20 feet away, and huffing as you tried to kick that thought from your mind. By the time the water shut off, you had turned from left to right and back again too many times to count. You heard Tim moving around the room, a quiet, "Shit!" escaping when he bumped into something in the dark.
You glued your eyes to the ceiling as you listened to Tim winding down, getting dressed, and beginning to pull pillows and blankets from the bed to the floor.
"Tim?"
A pause. "Yeah?"
You swallowed the lump in your throat. "You don't have to sleep on the floor. We're adults, and it wouldn't make me uncomfortable, if that's what you're worried about."
He sighed, and you could feel the exhaustion that came with it. "Are you sure?"
You rolled your eyes. You could tell him fifty times over that it wouldn't make you uncomfortable, and he would still insist upon asking. "Yes Tim, I'm sure. And really, it's just me trying to look out for your aging back, not me trying to make this a thing."
He huffed a laugh. "My back is not aging. I am just trying to be nice." He began putting the pillows back on the bed and turned down the sheets. You felt a dip in the bed as he settled in next to you, barely any space between you.
You chuckled, the sound tight coming out of your throat. "Ever the gentleman. I'll just never be this nice about us sharing a bed ever again."
Tim paused. "Well my back and I appreciate it."
You two settled into a comfortable silence, the weight of the day settling on you. You rolled on your side, your back to Tim. You felt the bed dip and shift as Tim got comfortable too. You couldn't tell which was he was facing as you drifted into sleep, but in the deepest parts of your mind, you hoped he was facing you, watching your breath even out as you began to dream of him.
The next day, your burner phone buzzed on the nightstand next to you, dragging you out of sleep far too early for your liking. In a haze, you slapped around for the buzzing, and saw it was Lopez texting. The time on the screen read a late 10:46 a.m. Through bleary eyes, you typed out a reply and set the phone back down and your head back on the pillow.
Your eyes shot open, but you stayed still. Once your brain had a moment to catch up with your surroundings, you noticed the weight of an arm along your side, warmth radiating from the body behind you, and legs tangled with yours. Any thought of going back to sleep were far gone. You mind raced at the premise of 1. You sharing a bed with Tim, and 2. That you were now cuddling in bed with Tim. The thought that seemed to rise above the rest was how right it felt. You usually were a restless sleeper, but you had woken up on the side you fell asleep on. You also traditionally woke up several times during the night. However, whether from exhaustion or Tim's presence, you could barely remember falling asleep, much less whether you woke up at any point.
You tried to focus your breathing, as you didn't want to alert Tim to you being awake. At a glacial pace, you attempted to slide his arm off your hip and onto the bed. You finagled your legs out from around his, and with the pace of a snail, sensitive to any rustle of the sheets, flipped over to face Tim. You had never seen him so relaxed, even when you found yourselves outside of work. The space between his eyebrows wasn't creased. His mouth drooped open slightly, softly snoring. The lines by his mouth, known for deepening while barking orders at a new rookie, smoothed out. Even the color in his face, the pink of his cheeks seemed brighter with the sun streaming in through the blinds.
You watched him shift around some before settling back in, his arm finding its way back to your waist. You close your eyes and attempt to even out your breathing and you think you've gotten away with it, when -
"I can feel you staring you know."
You smile, a playful lilt in your voice. "I have no idea what you're talking about."
"Then look me in the eyes and tell me you weren't staring."
Begrudgingly, you peek one eye open to see Tim already looking at you. You open your other eye and meet his, twinkling in blues and greens in the light. You expect him to have pulled away by now, and yet, his arm still rests over you, and his eyes travel your face, seeming to search for any sign of you turning away. And yet, you tentatively drape your arm around him, scared that if you move too fast, you'll break the reverie you've found yourself in.
"Okay fine," you whispered, "I may have been staring."
He chuckled, and you noticed the way your breaths mixed. "I knew it. What time is it?"
"Probably around 11. Lopez texted asking when we'd be ready to go since we got in so late last night. I told her we'd be ready around 1."
He closed his eyes again, a content smile across his face. You let him pull you in closer, nose to nose, and let his legs tangle with yours again. You didn't ask him what it meant, and neither did he. You figured you'd both talk about it when you got back to LA, had some time to debrief. Had some time to really think about what this meant.
His reply came out a whisper. "I have an alarm set for noon, so we have a little more time if you want to go back to sleep."
You felt your own eyes getting heavier, your body wrapped in the heat of Tim's body, letting it warm your from the inside out. "Noon it is."
hello all. it has been quite a long time! since i last posted anything, i've managed to graduate law school, pass the bar exam, get a lawyer job, meet my partner and become engaged, and move in with said partner. and also adopt two cats. and also I got doxxed by the far-right for a social media post related to Charlie Kirk, so now I'm on medical leave from my job (for that and other issues). so before I go any further, let me make my positions clear: fuck ICE, free Palestine, and fuck facism.
anywho!
i have lived a lifetime since i last posted, and frankly, my creative juices took quite a hit while i was in school. however, since i started leave, i've been consumed by thoughts of writing and getting back to hobbies that bring me joy. so please see my updated masterlist for fandoms i write for, because a lot has changed since I started this blog. but i look forward to trying this writing thing out again!
hello all. it has been quite a long time! since i last posted anything, i've managed to graduate law school, pass the bar exam, get a lawyer job, meet my partner and become engaged, and move in with said partner. and also adopt two cats. and also I got doxxed by the far-right for a social media post related to Charlie Kirk, so now I'm on medical leave from my job (for that and other issues). so before I go any further, let me make my positions clear: fuck ICE, free Palestine, and fuck facism.
anywho!
i have lived a lifetime since i last posted, and frankly, my creative juices took quite a hit while i was in school. however, since i started leave, i've been consumed by thoughts of writing and getting back to hobbies that bring me joy. so please see my updated masterlist for fandoms i write for, because a lot has changed since I started this blog. but i look forward to trying this writing thing out again!
summary: ever since meeting han solo, things have been a little icy between you two. now stuck at the rebel base on hoth, you both take a chance on how you feel.Β
warnings: none; maybe a little ooc!han but itβs been a while since iβve watched star wars in my defenseΒ
also this feels like it might need a part 2 so let me know if thatβs smth youβd be interested in
word count: 2.2kΒ
suggested listening:Β βtake a chance on meβ fromΒ βmamma miaβΒ
You clambered into the Hoth bunker, parka restricting your movements and goggles fogging up with the sudden temperature change. Leia walked up to you and unzipped your outer layer, shrugging it off your shoulders for you. Finally able to completely move your arms again, you began fiddling with the gloves on your hands, then goggles that still covered your eyes. Sweat started gathering at the base of your back, and you were beginning to feel it. You overhead the announcement system remind everyone that the briefing was starting soon, but all you craved was a hot shower and sleep.
"Leia I swear, they're gonna have to stop sending me out there if they want me to still have use of my hands in a week," you said in a rush, quick to get your stiff face moving. You shook out your hair, willing the remaining snow out of it.
You watched as she set your coat down on a nearby chair and returned to you with a hot beverage in hand. "You know they send you out there because you keep accepting the job. If you start telling them no, they'll find someone else to do it."
"Funny. I should start getting Luke to go out there. Better yet, I'd pay serious money to see Han out there." You accepted the hot tea, fingers curling around the thermos, warmth seeping through your grateful skin.
As you stood with Leia, you watched the various rebel leaders bustling around you two. From above you, you heard metal clanging, followed shortly by cursing. You looked to the Millennium Falcon sitting on the floor and watched as Han popped his head out, yelling at Chewbacca sitting perched atop the ship. "Chewie, wrong lever!"
Chewie growled back in response, to which you and Leia giggled like schoolgirls. "It's a wonder those two haven't killed each other yet," she said.
"Listen, I have a soft spot for the Wookie. Han, on the other hand, well, that's up in the air," you replied, sipping your drink.
Leiaβs narrowed eyes and wrinkled nose gave her away, she saw right through you. And you couldnβt even play it off like you didnβt like Han either, since you had told her about your small crush a few weeks back. But it had been quick when you told her and you werenβt even sure if you meant it at the time, but through Leiaβs poking and prods about Han since then, you knew she hadnβt forgotten.Β
βLadies!β Han strolled up from the Falcon, running a rag over his hands, an eyebrow cocked. βSo, sweetheart.β And for a moment you think heβs talking to Leia, but then he turns to you. How much would it take to get you to come work on the Falcon with me before Chewie up there electrocutes me?βΒ
You snorted. βYou must be desperate then. Because if I remember correctly, I actually did electrocute you once.β It had been in the beginning of your journey on the Falcon and Han called you in for some reinforcements for fixing up the Falcon. Unfortunately, a mechanic you were not, as you managed to shock Han so much that you couldβve sworn his hair stood up on end for the rest of the day. And Chewie let you win a game of his after that, because in between moves, he roared with laughter at the sight of Hanβs hair.
βWell thatβs the funny thing. I want the ship fixed but Iβm convinced Chewie will kill me before she gets flying again,β Han said, gray eyes skimming over you.Β
You looked between him and Leia, and when you looked back to him, his eyes were still on you, like Leia wasnβt even standing next to you.Β β A tragedy, honestly,β you joked. fidgeting with your hands.Β βBut unfortunately, we have a briefing to get to.βΒ
You dragged Leia off, to a conference room with maps of the galaxy tacked to the wall. As you walked and glanced over the file someone handed you, you tried to calm your racing thoughts, thoughts of Hanβs offer to fix the Falcon, and you hoped, Hanβs offer to spend some uninterrupted time together. Now, you couldnβt focus, plans blurring in with thoughts of some witty comeback you shouldβve given Han. But, as the fighters settled around you, you remembered you were past due for a brief on the new Resistance plan, but talks of the fighting had been exhausting as of late, and you were doing anything you could to get out of it. Leia pulled a chair out for you, urging you to sit, to which you gratefully obliged while she disappeared into the crowd. You glanced around, your gaze landing on Luke and Han, who looked at home amongst the fighter pilots. You weren't sure when Han managed to slip in behind you, though. Luke's eyes landed on you, and he gave you a tentative wave, looking to break from the talks. You raised your thermos to him, wanting nothing more than to have a familiar face nearby.
"You look exhausted," you heard from behind you, your eyes trained on your mug.
"Ever the charmer Luke Skywalker," you quipped.
"And you're ever so sweet. I'm glad you could finally make it to one of these things. You've managed to skate them for weeks now." Luke took the seat next to you, propping his right foot across his left knee.Β Β
You eyed him across the rim of your mug. "You know I don't like the cold, so why do you think I've been taking the scouting jobs?"
"Go help Han on the Falcon then. Goodness knows he needs all the help he can get on it, and maybe a break from Chewie. I'm sure he could use the company. Iβm sure he wouldnβt mind your company," Luke said, nudging your elbow with his, while your cheeks flushed hot. He reached for a file on the table in front of him, thumbing through the material. "But the brief's about to start, so you're stuck here now."
You groaned, leaning your head back onto your chair. The cup rested on the table in front of you while Leia spoke about what rebel intelligence had been coming in. You periodically shifted around in your chair, fighting sleep as hard as you could, fighting glancing at Han too. After what seemed like ages, the commanders finally dismissed you and, you made a beeline for your quarters and arguably the hottest shower you have ever taken.
Hours later, when you could hear a pin drop in the compound, you lay awake, sheets tangled around your waist and chest heaving. You gazed up at the low ceiling, bleary-eyed and panicking. While you calmed your breathing, you pondered going on a walk to clear your head. After the nightmare you had, one involving some close calls with TIE Fighters, you knew it would take a miracle for you to go back to sleep. Thankfully you knew the scenario ended well, with some great shooting from an enthusiastic Luke and clever maneuvering from Han, but it didnβt stop you from seeing how close they really came to capturing the Falcon. You sat up slowly, eyes adjusted to the dark, and spotted your boots and a thick jacket. Donning both, you crept out of your quarters and to the main hall, where everyone would gather in a few hours for another day of grueling work.
Your eye drew to the Falcon, the hunk of metal that brought you, Leia, and Luke here in the first place. As you walked around the Falcon, your hand grazed cold metal, and you reminisced on your journey to Hoth. Cramped quarters made for a strange living arrangement, but bunking with Leia had been a blast. Flying with Han wouldn't have been a problem, save for your crush on him. Having been with the crew since Leia's rescue, the group of you had grown close, albeit some of you more than others. While you looked for excuses to be around Han, offering to fix the Falcon, cooking meals for everyone, his focus seemed trained on someone else - Leia. You had nothing against her, and in fact, having another woman comforted you. She knew what you were thinking more often than the men did, and she understood the experience of being a woman in the resistance. She was the first to ask how a mission went, and helped you crack jokes in briefings to pass the time. Few appeared to take her seriously, but she had a way of speaking that turned every head. Her presence commanded everyone's attention.
Unfortunately, this left you in her wake. Not that you minded per se, preferring to stay on the outskirts of the leadership, wanting to be in the field instead of making battle plans. This, however, appeared to put you in the background for Han as well. You didn't blame him. You understood how he could be drawn to her smile, to her personality, her charm. The problem was with the fact that you saw him. You saw his resourcefulness, his biting wit, his ability to make most people feel at ease. While you pride yourself on not caring about looks, you always noticed how his brow furrowed when evading Imperial fighters, how his tough hands worked with tools and held yours sometimes. The hand holding was accidental because while you were a skilled scout, a mechanic you were not. Thankfully, though, Han never seemed to mind and often tried to thank you for at least trying to help, scolding you much more gently than he did Chewie.Β
The sound of approaching footsteps pulled you from your thoughts. Thankfully, the black boots were familiar. "Solo."
"Good to see I'm not the only one awake," he replied. He appeared around the corner and stepped up to stand on the Falcon's platform, eyes looking you over.
You squirmed slightly under his gaze, wrapping your arms around yourself. "A comfort, I'm sure." Keeping your gaze on his boots, you rocked on your heels.
Han sat down on the cold metal platform, patting the spot next to him. He had always been good at reading you, with a penchant for knowing when you needed to talk to someone, even when he wasnβt the best with words. "Credit for your thoughts?"
You peeled your gaze from the floor. Paused for a moment, you collected your thoughts and willed that your tongue wouldn't get caught in knots. In silence, you walked over and sat next to him. When you regained some courage, you spoke, "Okay. Han, why are you still here? I thought you still weren't sure about working for the resistance."
He looked taken aback, eyes searching your face for anything that could have prompted your question. As far as he knew, Han made it clear that he was sticking around. Han fiddled with his fingers, brow pulled together while he tried to formulate an answer. How could he sit here with you after that and not admit that he stuck around for you? Since you joined him on the Falcon, he felt like he had an equal. Leia was great to have around, but you. God, you. You could find a witty reply to everything he said. You could talk your way out of any situation you found yourself in, and it certainly helped because Han didn't have that ability on his own. Working for the rebellion was tough on everyone, and he wanted to tell you that he loved having you around on bad days. You always knew how to make everyone feel better, and he began to feel safe around you as a result. Yet, as he looked at you, tucked into yourself, the words wouldn't come.
"I thought everyone just knew I decided to stick around," he said.
As your eyes met his, you could've sworn you saw the hurt in them, but if you did, it was gone as fast as it had appeared. You had to admit you noticed him participating more in missions, wanting to become more involved. You've caught him deep in conversation with generals, other pilots, and the like. But the question was loaded, and you knew that as soon as you had asked it. And his answer wasn't the one you were looking for.
"Did you decide to stay for the resistance? Or did you stay for someone," you paused. The last thing you wanted to do was throw your friend under the bus, and you didn't want to lose Han either. But you needed clarity and needed to be able to sleep again. "For Leia, maybe?"
Han looked at you, incredulous. Surprise wrote itself all over his face. "What makes you think I've stayed for Leia?"
You took a shaky breath in, tightening your fingers around one another. "I see how you are with her. I see how everyone is with her. They all like her so much, and I'd be surprised if you didn't either."
"What if I told you I did stay for someone, but it wasn't her?"
Now it was your turn to be surprised. It had never occurred to you that anyone could've stood out to him. Leia was the obvious choice, and there weren't many other women around, even including you. Everyone just seemed to fade into the background. "Okay. Do I get to know who?"
βWell,β he began, βItβs you. But you didnβt hear it from me.β
Please please can we get a fic where Sirius is just like fuck it and he ends up marrying a muggle girl? Like he doesn't give up magic but hes just done with magic people and hes very happy with his sweet wife :D
Easy Sundays
warnings: none; implied female reader I suppose
suggested listening: 'at last' by etta james
A/N: I modified this one a little bit bc I couldn't come up with a feasible way to balance magic with Muggle, given how strict the Wizarding World is about Muggles finding out they exist. So there's that. And this is purely a comfort-fic type deal and it's my first time writing like this. But otherwise, I hope y'all enjoy !
-
Sirius doesn't wake with a start. It takes him a moment to remember where he is, but he doesn't wake in a panic, with his breath caught in a tightened chest. He wakes softly, the last tendrils of sleep slipping from his mind, gently coaxing him into the real world. When he remembers where he is, the room comes quickly into focus - the white curtains billowing in the morning's gentle breeze, the white bedsheets tangled around him, and the woman still sleeping soundly next to him.
She's something of a woman, an older 21 to his fresher 21, but he knows she seems older than she is. She finds him at a new 18, post-Hogwarts, when he's searching for purpose, for meaning, and for something to do after all his schooling. It's a chance encounter at a pub, a great conversation later, and he's smitten. But he remembers his background, the family he comes from, and almost ditches her when he goes to meet her for lunch the next day. But he doesn't. He meets her, and sees that in her carefree laugh, sharp wit, and shining eyes, is someone he can be with a little more permanently.
It takes her a while to come around though. She sees the careful choice of words on some subjects and the reckless abandon with which he talks about others. Even though she meets him at a bar, she watches him shy away when the crowd starts getting too loud. She's careful when she asks him out, not knowing how to form the words on her tongue, and apologizing when they come stumbling out, tripping over themselves. But she does anyways. And he knows she's nervous, so he agrees to go out with her.
Over their early time together, he performs a balancing act - willing to keep the magic part of him from the non-magic part of her. When she teaches him small things, like making tea or cooking, he realizes that these apparently mundane moments are memories he can make with her. Magic became the easy way out and he hangs it up not long after.
He looks at her again, sees her 21 this time. He thinks 'Muggle' as a term of endearment, not with the sneer his family gives the word. But he can't use that word, not for her, she doesn't know what it means. So he corrects 'Muggle' to 'Woman'. Sirius's tired eyes graze over the gentle curve of her face and land on the left hand curled tight on the pillow in front of her. It is a small glimmer there, a dance of light in the Sunday morning glow. It is here where he further corrects 'Woman' to "Wife'.
He pauses for a moment, and in the silence, he can almost hear her ringing voice calling, "Husband!", like she calls him when he comes home from work. He smiles, the curves of his lips stretching up his face, sleep fading even further from his mind. He wants to spend the day wrapped up with her, listening to her pleading with him not to get out of bed just yet because he's still warm, watching whatever bad movies they can find to watch. But he made a promise to Lily and James to go see them, and despite having given up magic, it doesn't mean that Sirius gave up his lifelong friends.
She knows these friends of his, he's told her about them. So he knows he told her about going to meet them early this morning, so as much as he wants to stay with her, he couldn't. Nonetheless, he kisses her on the forehead, careful not to disturb her. And with a whispered, "I love you," he's out the door stepping into a different life.
Sirius sits with the old gang to talk shop, reminisce over old times, of James' pining over Lily, bad pranks they pulled. Lily dotes on baby Harry and eventually passes him off to James. Remus drops by with chocolate and Peter saunters in with a joke, with a story. He feels familiarity here, like this is a place he is meant to be. His bones remember these people and the time they spent together. The hours crawl by, and soon enough, James twirls his wand between his fingers, a baby Harry in his lap.
It is here where the group diverges. Sirius knows now that he takes a road less traveled by. He hangs his wand up a few months after graduation, his old world causing him enough pain to last a lifetime. Sitting on Lily's couch, the night growing darker outside, he reaches for his teacup and catches the glint of a ring on his left hand and smiles. There is a whole other world waiting for him at home, one that wraps him in love and bathes him in a gentleness that took him years to accept. But she is waiting, he knows she is. So he finishes his tea, wipes the biscuit crumbs from his jeans, and bids everyone a farewell until next time.
summary: you, padmeβs top advisor, canβt sleep, and neither can obi-wan.Β
warnings: none
authorβs note:Β i disappeared off the face of the planet for over a year bc i was in my first year of law school. somehow i survived and realized i needed a hobby. so iβm revisiting my writing and dumping this here. please be gentle, i havenβt seen the prequels in a while bc my friends wonβt watch them with me, and i havenβt seen the show yet either. also would anyone like this to become a series? where itβs this kind of pining but with other characters in different fandoms? pls let me know bc Iβd love the feedback. much love.Β
suggested listening:Β βmoonlight serenadeβ by glenn millerΒ
βYour thoughts are loud.βΒ
You jumped at the sound of his voice, posh as ever but a little rough some sleep.Β βI didnβt mean to wake you. And what are you doing in my thoughts?β The question came out with a laugh, knowing Obi-Wan well enough that he wouldnβt get in your head without permission.
He looks down and chuckles softly.Β βYou didnβt wake me. I couldnβt sleep, and I just heard them.β
βDare I ask why you couldnβt sleep?β You slid over on the small stone bench, trying to make some room for him.Β
He cocked his head slightly, pondering, almost hesitating. But he walked over to you and sat down, tugging his robes closer around him.Β βAnakin, mostly. Concerns for Padme, sometimes.β A whisper,Β βconcerns for you.βΒ
You tried to shut your thoughts out. You couldnβt, however, helped the heat that rose to your cheeks.Β βConcerns about me?βΒ
βYes, concerns for you,β he said.Β βI know how the Senators are with you.β He folded his hands in on one another in his lap.Β βAnd I donβt like how they are with you.βΒ
You sighed, finally looking at him, seeing his eyes trained downward, not chancing a look at you.Β βObi-Wan, theyβre Senators, itβs to be expected. Things are going sideways fast, and theyβre all just doing what they can to try and manage it. And sometimes, it just happens to get let out onto others.βΒ
βI donβt like it when it gets let out on you. Especially because I canβt say anything to them.βΒ
He glanced towards you, then upward, focusing on the limited night sky above him. Somehow, you managed to look at him, though, tracing the sharp curve of his jaw, the soft structure of his cheekbone. Although your shoulders touched, you wanted to reach out and place a hand on his shoulder, on his cheek, on something. But you didnβt, and frankly you couldnβt. Even the nightβs spell couldnβt make you forget his status as a Jedi Master or yours as Padmeβs advisor. Your respective positions had rules, a Code that kept you from one another. But It didnβt keep the others in your charge from one another, you thought.
Padme and Anakin were careful, but you and Obi-Wan knew them better, and knew it hadnβt taken long for them to start seeing each other. In fact, on the few missions to Naboo when the Jedi visited, you often stood as cover for Anakin, ready with a plausible story for when Obi-Wan came asking. You talked Padme through the ups and downs of being with a Jedi, through the long periods of not seeing each other. And she spoke with you about Obi-Wan, not one to be lost on forlorn looks and wishful thinking. Being friends for so long gave her an insight into your thoughts, and knew how your tied your fingers together when Obi-Wan was near, how you could never look him in the eye when he looked at you with his piercing blue eyes.Β
It took one look for her to read your thoughts, and it was on a night like this, when you sat out in the open with Obi-Wan, where you were grateful he didnβt read yours. Because you reached for him, a gentle hand on his arm, drawing his skyward gaze back to you, looking at you like he pulled some of the stars from of the sky with him.Β βBut I know you would say something if you could, and thatβs enough.βΒ
He reached for you too, a shaky hand holding your own, cerulean eyes locked with yours.Β βBut it isnβt enough.βΒ
βObi-Wan, I β¦βΒ
βIt isnβt enough,β he said, grip tightening around your hand.Β βIt isnβt enough, because I canβt tell them to leave you alone without them wondering what a Jedi wants with you. I canβt say anything because then Iβll come out sounding like Anakin and theyβll all wonder where the professional version of me went.βΒ
He turned to you fully, reaching for your empty hand with his remaining one. He leans in closer, and you mirror him, afraid that if you donβt, then his words will escape into thin air and itβll be as if you never heard him. And he needs you to hear him, to understand.Β
He continued,Β βAnd then theyβd know that the professional version of me never exists around you. That something changes, and I donβt know how to describe it.βΒ
You shook out a breath, terrified of moving too suddenly. He can sense your nervousness, you know he does, when he starts circling his thumb gently across your knuckles. Your eyes dart between his eyes, looking for any sign of his confession being a joke, some cruel joke. But thereβs nothing there, except the calmest gaze, the warmest shade of blue searching your eyes for a reaction.Β
βThank you,β you whispered.Β
I love you, your heart screamed.Β
βObi-Wan, that means, well, more than I can put into words. But the thoughts are there,β you paused.Β βIf you want to feel for them.βΒ
Itβs the first time youβve offered something like that to him, something that personal to anyone. You can see the hesitation, but it doesnβt take you long to feel him, tendrils of his Force signature wrapping around your mind. You close your eyes, not wanting to see his reaction when he reaches the part of your mind that yearns for him, that aches. Heβs there for a while, strolling through, taking his time with you, and itβs in this hike through your mind, that he wishes you could see into his more.Β
After a pregnant pause, he squeezes your hand, leading you out of your haze, eyes crawling back open. When he sharpens into focus, thereβs a content, mischievous smile creeping up his face; his shoulders relax, and you donβt need to be Force sensitive to feel the utter relief radiating from him. You both have finally gotten a lifetimeβs worth of confessions off your chest. And where it goes from here, neither of you know.Β Β But this is different, and you arenβt afraid of finding out.Β
The beginnings of dawn creep over the horizon, spilling streams of gold light onto both of you, where you both remember that other Jedi might be beginning to stir. So you stand, hands still intertwined, and you pull him up with you.Β
βWe have to go,β you begin.Β βBefore someone sees.βΒ
He smiles, a full smile now.Β βLetβs get you back to bed then.β
Itβs a silent walk back to your quarters in the Senate building, and Obi-Wan holds your hand the whole time, not even starting to drop it when you think someone is going to round a corner and spot you. Heβs unafraid, and so are you, and itβs so unlike either of you, but in the early light, neither of you have it in your to care. When he stops at your door, you both fight smiles and whisper proper goodnights, and you force the want of him staying the rest of the night back down your throat.
When you are finally back in your quarters, as disheveled as they are, curtains still drawn tight, you will to him a promise ofΒ βlater, youβll find me laterβ. And it is a whisper, a fleeting feeling through your mind, but you know itβs him willing back,Β βIβll always find you.βΒ
hi all, meg here. i dropped off the face of the planet for effectively a year. I finished my first year of law school in may, and that was a journey. i wasnβt doing the best mentally and could barely handle school, much less a blog as well. and as much as i love writing, i simply couldnβt keep up. all that said, school is over until august. iβve taken a much needed break from things and reevaluated some priorities of mine.Β
that said, iβd like to come back to this blog and get to writing again. headcanons, ships, requests, all of it. iβm gonna spend the next week clearing out my inbox as quickly as i can without losing the quality of my work. but i have some projects saved up in my drafts that i really want to get out to you guys, and youβll be seeing one of them later, so any criticism is welcome, esp since iβve been out of the writing game for so long.Β
my time in school has been incredibly tough, but iβve realized that i need to make time for things other than school. and that means making time for this bc i really enjoy doing it and want to get back to it. so hopefully thereβs no long farewells, just new hellos and welcomes.Β
hi everyone. i know i took a like 5 month long hiatus w zero warning but i promise iβm not dead in a ditch. i was actually in law school! i just completed my first semester as a 1L, or a first year, and boi howdy was that a ride. if there are any fellow law students whoβd love to chat, then drop in my inbox! but iβm gonna spend the next few days clearing out my inbox, so thanks to everyone who is still around and waited patiently bc itβs been hot mess express on my end of things.Β
i love you all the absolute most and bid you a fond farewell :)Β
Ship for hp&marauders era? Iβm Ravenclaw, 5β7 very thin, blonde hair above my shoulders & blue eyes. Fav subject is potions(pyro science irl). I like animals & sewing clothes. Iβm calm in almost all situations & speak 5 languages. Thank you!
Hey anon ! thanks for sending in your request and thanks for being so patient while I work on it, and I hope you enjoy !
A/N: Ship requests aren't open again, I'm just kinda clearing out my inbox bc I've been out of the writing game for a while
For Harry Potter (Golden Era) - I ship you with Luna Lovegood !
y'all would have the softest relationship and no one can convince me otherwise
Luna may end up in a sticky situation, as she does sometimes, and you're there to sew her things back together
it's your calmness that really vibes together tho. Like you'll be in a situation where you could really tear someone's head off, and when you step back and choose not to, Luna is smitten
also, Luna would LOVE hearing you speak all your different languages, and def ask you to teach you a few phrases in them mostly it's just her asking you how to say "my love" or "my sweet" or any other variations of pet names bc she totally would
also imagine helping Luna through Potions with Snape omg what a treat that would be, like trying not to laugh when she asks some of her funny questions in class and gently helping each other through the steps
how lowkey and cute you guys would be honestly
For Harry Potter (Marauders Era) - I ship you with Remus Lupin !
my blog is just a simp blog for Lupin and no one should be surprised anymore but anyway
Lupin is generally pretty calm, but his friends are a little high strung and dude needs someone who's not gonna add to that stress at all, so in comes you
although it would take him a while to explain to you just how his clothes keep getting ripped, he keeps asking you to sew his things back together
and thank goodness your calm, bc once he actually does tell you about his condition, he needs you not to freak out and i don't think you would
Remus loves hearing you speak different languages, and honestly, the rest of the boys are jealous that you speak so many
teaching Remus a few curses in those languages so he can talk shit behind James and Sirius' backs :)
going back to an ex you KNOW will hurt you? consuming media you KNOW that triggers you? isolating yourself when you KNOW you need help? thatβs a form of self-harm and needs to be acknowledged first to get help.
hey y'all! so I've had this blog for a while now, and even though I haven't actually posted any fic yet, y'all really seem to vibe with it. so I figured I'd come reintroduce myself!
so my name is Megan, but I can go by Meg. I'm a 21 year old, first year law student. Iβm a proud Ravenclaw, INFP, and in a perfect world, Iβd be vibin in the Shire. outside of school, I am a practicing baby witch, w interests in tarot, oracle, and deity work (i have been known to talk to my deities in the middle of the grocery store if that tells you anything lol). I love reading, writing, and learning new things in general, like I once spent a Christmas break off from school teaching myself physics bc I wanted to learn more about space so. I dress like either a 90's mom or an teenage boy from the 80's and there's no in between. speaking of the 80's, I love 70's and 80's music and musicals. I also love the outdoors, like going on walks, hiking, and I even try to roller skate outside when I can! I'm fairly shy, but once I'm comfy around you, I won't be able to shut up and will tell you everything you wanna know about me lol. that said, if you wanna be friends, feel free to slide into my inbox :)
As much as I love writing tho, I'm never the best at keeping a consistent writing schedule and have been known to abandon drafts even when I'm nearly finished w them lol. but if you want a pretty complete list of fandoms I'm in/write for, check out the masterlist link in my bio! and if you'd like to request smth off that list, check out the request rules up there too!
one last note, everyone of every race, sexuality, gender identity, etc. is welcome on my blog, and even tho I don't imagine this will become an issue, I have no qualms about deleting hate :) but if any of you ever need a safe space, my inbox is always open.
i also wanna thank you guys for being so patient with me over these last two weeks where I havenβt posted anything lol. it has been super hectic in my home lately, so Iβve been taking some time away from the blog. but Iβm ready to get back into it and canβt wait to write for you guys again!Β
thanks for your time; thanks for supporting my blog and all the kind words I've gotten from you guys so far. I love all of you and bid you all a very fond farewell :)
