#........thinking about how she might have reacted when she cut it after the island

[swan2swan]

Going to sleep, but first, I just remembered the way the animators worked with Brooklynn's hair in Camp Cretaceous, gosh, this detail was fantastic:

[destinygoldenstar]

☀️It’s Time For DRAMA☀️ - Total Drama Viewer Reacts to Disventure Camp Season 1 Episode 1 “Meet Me In Tipiskaw”

"Ah shit, here we go again..."

So I did a poll awhile back asking if I should watch Disventure Camp, an indie animated show based off Total Drama. And you guys said it was a GREAT idea...

...SO NATURALLY I'M WATCHING IT.

I think it's also a good timing because the finale of Season 3 hasn't been released yet at the time of this post.

From my research of understanding, there's a 'beta' of Season 1 back when it was a Total Drama fanfiction. Then they made Season 2, and then went back and remade Season 1. And Season 3 goes off of the remake of Season 1's logic and canon. So I'm watching the remake of Season 1, so you're aware which version I am doing.

I'm also aware they have these episodes in Spanish as well. I'm an English speaker, so I'm watching the English version. That might enrage some people, but I want to make that clear.

What I am expecting going in; I'm expecting the setup for this show to be similar to Total Drama. With it being a Survivor parody. I'm also expecting the quality to not be as strong as TD, just because one is an indie production and another is not. I'm a producer and I know the setbacks that come with indie works. It's not gonna dock points from me.

I don't know anything about the cast. This is blind.

I felt bad when I didn't do reactions of the 2023 reboot of Total Drama. I liked the reboot, up until the last act of the second season. If you want my thoughts on it. I made a post whining about that last act. I admit I've gotten a bit softer on it, but I still think it's a weak ending.

So with this, I wanted to actually post my reactions so I can get more into it and write down my thoughts like a diary.

I'm sure this won't backfire in any way with people spoiling...

(THESE ARE ALL SCREENSHOTS FROM ODDNATIONS DISVENTURE CAMP. PLEASE SUPPORT THE OFFICIAL RELEASE)

So... yeah. Here's my first time reaction to Disventure Camp Season 1, Episode 1.

Oh, and we start the episode with an ad. How wonderful...

What's worse than one Chris McLean?

TWO Chris McLeans. Dear god...

(I put subtitles on)

"I'm Trevor McGregor, and this is my hosting partner, Derek Johnson."

"We will do our best to make sure that all our competitors have the worst experience possible."

Okay, so is there a fair one and a sociopathic one?

I feel like there's a twist here and it's swapped at some point.

*listens to the game explanation*

Hang on, hang on...

Who voices these two? Why do I feel like I heard these voices before...

Okay, INRTO!!

They had the same cut tape that Total Drama had, that's cool.

Alright, lets see here.

We got a rich guy who looks like he's been dumped out here and would complain about dirt. And we got a girl scout character.

Plot twist, the dude makes it farther than her.

Ninja dude. And... other dude.

...when was this released?

Four months after the TD Reboot.

Well this is a remake of a beta, so... yeah. Total Drama said "We're gonna add queer characters to the cast. FIRST queer characters." And this show said "Am I a joke to you?"

I'm gonna call it though, that's gonna go horribly wrong. You date a ninja, you're ASKING for pain. I've watched Ninjago.

That boy has my thoughts exactly!

WAIT, THEY'RE NOT ALL THE SAME AGE. OMG.

Dang, this sixteen year old looks seventy.

She also looks like the cranky old lady. "My age don't define my level of badass!"

That other dude looks like a whitewashed Noah.

Oh you two look sweet, I'm gonna like you two.

THERE'S A CHILD?!?!

Who tf dropped off their KID in the woods?! WTF?!

DJ's brother. And a COWGIRL?!

I'm surprised Total Drama doesn't really have a cowboy/girl. Unless I'm remembering wrong.

(Or maybe I don't want to remember Pahketiew Island)

Oh I didn't even see you... you're wearing a swimsuit.

Oh. You're Heather's cousin. Okay.

"We're here. Everyone off."

Why is the thug Scottish?

Okay names... uh...

Yeah I'm gonna be bad at remembering all of that.

There's someone named Gabby here??? (Someone in my family is named Gabby, so that's awkward.)

Purple Team? No fancy names, huh? Where's the Ferocious Trout's and Frogs of Death?

"I'm Lill. National Girl Scout Troup Leader."

Oh, she IS a scout. I called it!

Okay, you know a writing pet peeve I have? It's when two characters in the same media share a name VERY similar to each other. Unless they're twins, I don't like it when they do that. It makes things hard to pronounce and you can never understand who you're referring to.

There's a guy named Will here. And a woman named Lill. That's way too similar. W and L sound a lot more similar when speaking than you think. Why? Why did you do this? Why not name her Lilly? That's easier. Or the other way around, name the guy Wally or something.

I'm sorry. Pet Peeve is getting to me. I'm calling her Lilly. You're not stopping me.

"You're currently looking at the future winner of this season."

"I know perfectly well how to play with the minds of these losers."

"I once won a beauty pageant because the other contestants got mysteriously sick."

?!

Okay QUEEN, maybe wait a few days before you decide to SLAY, okay? 💅

Straight to the point. She's a prick. I'm down to stan a prick. I watch Total Drama, plenty of prick ladies that slay.

"There are no cabins!"

Oh don't remind me of Pahketiew!

...actually, I like this idea. I also think this and the confessional styles are more accurate to Survivor. Am I right on that? I've only seen a couple of out of context clips of the show, admittedly.

"A tent, a machete, and a pot."

Then what's that sword? Didn't mention that on your supply list. Is that contraband?

So no food either? Dang, we're really going there and starving everyone to death.

(I would SUCK as a Survivor player)

"There will, however, be a way to get extra supplies by winning the challenges."

You gotta EARN your McDonalds order.

Or Chef slop depending on your craving.

Alright, red sweater likes all this. You know what, I'm all for optimists.

"Could someone take my suitcase? I'll pay whatever."

You were DEFINATELY dumped here against your consent.

"Why are you dressed like that?"

I'M A NINJA. I DON'T FEEL HEAT.

"Actually, I can't get that much sun exposure."

Oh he DOES talk. Okay. I was thinking a different kind of ninja for a second.

I can't get over that there's a CHILD here.

WHO DUMPED YOU IN THE WOODS?!?! WHERE ARE YOUR PARENTS?!?!

"My parents are a little short on money so they agreed to send me here in exchange for payment."

That might be more f****d up than anything I've seen on Total Drama.

Yes? Child services? I'd like to report something.

Wouldn't it be funny if they ditched her cause she's a demon child?

It's still wrong on their end. But it would be funny if this little girl had a foul mouth and didn't know what love was. (Cause she never received it from her parents)

...so what's his name is the real ninja. Got it.

They couldn't afford a VA, I imagine. That or no one auditioned that stayed.

"I'd like to know who picked the teams and why mine got stuck with the old lady, a child, and four guys who looked like they've never seen sunlight."

Alright, I'm gonna like this character.

Not because she's a nice person though. I'm just down to stan a bad bitch and she's giving me that energy.

"Do you know how many animals had to die for that?!"

Well I know my GF would like you.

"If you don't care for animal's lives, I might not care for yours."

OKAY KAREN, CALM DOWN.

"Sometimes I get a little upset, but it's something I couldn't control, so I prefer to see the positive side of things."

Uuuhhh... are you bipolar? That would explain a lot.

"How come you're so good at this?"

"I watched a survival show."

What are your sources? I watched a movie once. Same energy of a response.

"It's just a book about surviving in isolated places."

Okay Noah wasn't whitewashed. He's right here. This takes place twenty years in the future of Total Drama.

"I haven't been out of the house that much."

CALLED IT.

"My parents... they're kind of overprotective."

"A couple of weeks ago I had an argument with them and I left."

I fear that every day. No one likes arguing with their parents.

I like this setup for a character.

"An animal attacking us?! We do not find any food and starve to death?! A forest fire wiping us all out?!"

Oh he's just like me fr

"I know it may be a little early for this..."

"How about we make an alliance?"

"Sure. We can protect ourselves and get the four of us to the Merge."

Ooooohh. We have an alliance ALREADY?!

They might lose like 1-2 of their members, but that's a good idea. Start your alliances early. It'll help you in the long game.

"Right now, you're gonna vote one person off each team."

Wait, what? THE GAME JUST STARTED, WTF?!

This has to be a psyche. There's NO WAY.

"Gabby from the purple team and Fiore from the teal team."

This is a psyche.

You shouldn't have threatened anyone.

What did Fiore do?! Sorry for being a child!

*Team Swap*

Oh thank god, it was a psyche.

"No one will be eliminated today. Only this time you will play for a reward."

So no one's going home today. Cool.

*Patreons*

Oh, there's a patreon shoutout.

I definitely respect these content creators, I will say that much. Presentation is a lot better than I thought it was gonna be.

"I understand why they hate your personality so much, but you know, I can tolerate you."

"Really? Would you be my friend?"

"No, but we can be allies."

Hey, at least she's honest. That's a trait you don't see very often on these shows.

I don't hate Gabby's personality btw. I'm leaning more towards the opposite, especially after what happened to her. Learning everyone hates you right off the bat sucks.

"On the other team they were very rude to me."

They pretty much ignored you, what are you talking about?

"How old are you?"

"I'm 6"

DEAR GOD.

YES. CHILD SERVICES. I'D LIKE TO REPORT SOMETHING.

You can't fight a ninja!!

Idk where he got a trash can lid from. As proof that this man is, indeed, a ninja.

"Will! Go call the others!"

Um, excuse me, I'm CONCUSSED.

"Ouch. I cannot see anything."

...okay, I haven't complained about the voice acting cause it's been quite good for the most part. But that line delivery? Uh uh.

OMG Miriam 😂

Gabby's too much like me here, I'm gonna be honest.

Oh, you little...

Don't underestimate children.

I didn't even realize he had the wrong flag. That's impressive.

"Alec gave it to me."

Oh... but she still kept it hidden. So she still deserves some credit.

"I'm a little scared of the dark."

Is your whole character being a coward?

"Why did you give me the credit for that flag thing?"

Oh wait, that was a lie?

"I prefer to go unnoticed."

That's actually smart. She's a child, and children are "stupid". So she doesn't pose a threat to anyone in Tribal Councils.

"These assholes are really buying into the story that I'm a helpless little girl."

FOUL. MOUTHED. CHILD. LET'S. F*****G. GO!

DEMON CHILD. WHAT DID I SAY?!?!

Oh, the Scottish guy is a criminal. Never would've guessed. /s

They also shoutout patreons at the end with the animation. That's actually a cool extra mile they didn't need to do.

Wait, I wanna see who voiced the host characters. Cause I swear I heard both voices before.

Steven Gordon & Silly Billy.

Yeah I definitely heard those voices before.

Well, kudos to everyone in these credits that worked on this show. Credit has gotta be due.

Presentation wise, that was way better than I thought. I didn't think it was gonna be good quality at all. That animation looked so close to Total Drama and was very smooth!

I also may or may not like the designs better than the TD Reboot designs. Just because there's more character in each of them.

I love the idea of the cast not all being the same age. It's a lot more variety to character backgrounds. I don't hate the teenagers TD used or anything. This is just another approach and idea.

Character opinions: (I looked back to get the names down)

Dan, Ellie, Jake, and Miriam... eh? They didn't do anything this episode. Nothing to say.

All Alec really did was be involved in that lie for Fiore. Maybe he's her first target and he's an early boot and that's why she picked him.

Fiore is a demon child and I am so here for it. Like yeah, maybe her parents actually did dump her here cause they don't like her. That does explain her behavior. But she's also like "Well f**k it, I'll roll with it. I'm here to win a million bucks and crush some adults. Easy peasy."

Tom... NINJA.

No, but seriously, it's not subtle he's hiding stuff. But it could end up being something really minor like he hates his appearance or something and wants to be seen as the cool guy.

Grett, she's a bad bitch. She's not a good person. But you know what? After watching Total Drama and suffering through such nasty characters making it far in the game, I have embraced it. So yeah, QUEEN. SLAY. 💅

Gabby... I think there's some depth to her, and I THINK I like her, but she has some faults like a temper and talking too much. (She's just like me fr) She might climb up for me later. Depends on how long she's in the game.

The Ashley, Lilly, Nick, & Will alliance... I like their strategy here. Forming an alliance as early as possible is a good idea. Heather did the same thing and it worked in her favor. I don't think they're all merging though. I think Fiore is gonna target 1-2 of them and get them eliminated. My guess would probably be Lilly being one of them just because she seems very competent at the game she could be a threat.

But like I said, I think she may target Alec first cause she pinned the flag thing on him.

Nick, I like his story and his reason to be here. Like I said, I think he's outlasting Lilly for sure and getting development.

Will... he's fine, but his only trait so far seems to be 'I'm anxiety'. So there's another Fiore target if the alliance break pre-merge is two.

And Ashley... I like her, just cause she's a cowgirl, but I think there could be more personality from her later. And she seems like one of the nicer people here.

So... yeah. If you guys want me to continue these reactions, be sure to let me know. I'm willing to continue this show.

[supermarine-silvally]

Gooooood morning, I'm here to send you numbers 1, 2, 7, 10 and 13 from the Happy Together ask game for Yara and Ace, my beloveds. Hope you're doing well!

tysm for the ask!!! I am obsessed with these two fr (also tagging @oneirataxia-girl to share the brainrot heheh)

(ask game here!)

This got long so I'll put the answers under the cut!

1. What are your OTP’s love languages?

In terms of receiving, I headcanon Ace as a words of affirmation sort of guy-- we all know that between Garp and Dadan and all the adults in his life that Ace didn’t receive a lot of reassurance about his self-worth growing up. The only time he was probably ever praised was when he brought home dinner for the mountain bandits, and he definitely enjoyed that one time when Makino remarked on how well-behaved he was for her, so getting that sort of verbal affirmation helps chase away the doubts he feels about whether or not he deserved to be born in the first place. As for giving, Ace is always surprising Yara with little gifts he finds on his solo missions/adventures or on the islands they visit together. He just loves making her smile.

Though she may come across as a little distant and give off the occasional ‘go near me and I’ll bite you’ vibe, Yara actually loves being touched and held and getting that skin-to-skin contact with the people she trusts and cares about. She basically was never hugged or given much physical affection for the vast majority of her life, and has some pretty severe abandonment issues, so she’s very touch-starved. The first time Ace hugged her, she didn’t quite know how to react, but all she knew was that deep down, she never wanted him to stop. In terms of giving affection, Yara shows her love through acts of service. She might grumble about Ace leaving his stuff lying around, but she always picks it up and puts it back where it needs to be, and makes sure that he has clean clothes and enough food/water to last whenever he’s going to be away for an extended period of time. Whenever Ace falls asleep in the middle of a meal, she’s always patiently waiting with a napkin or a cloth for when he comes to again.

2. Is your OTP a battle couple? How do they work together?

They’re both on one of the strongest crews in the One Piece universe serving under a literal Yonko so they’d definitely fit the battle couple description! (Yara is technically second-in-command on 2nd Division under Ace, so they end up side-by-side in combat a lot). Now the fun thing about them working together in battle is their devil fruit powers. Yara’s Tōka Tōka no Mi (Pass-Pass Fruit) means that she’s basically untouchable to physical attacks, barring seastone or a strong application of haki (or the Yami Yami no Mi), and Ace’s Mera Mera no Mi, being a Logia, means essentially the same thing for him. So Yara doesn’t have to worry about accidentally hitting Ace with her sword (her devil fruit might give her an excellent defense but it has almost no offensive capabilities, so she has to make up for that with swordplay) and Ace can go wild without worrying about burning Yara. Being faced with them in combat is to endure both their terrifying powers and combat prowess as well as their (mostly Ace’s) insufferable flirting. 

7. Do they plan on getting married? Who proposes? What’s their wedding like? 

Oh, Ace was probably thinking about marriage even before he left the Moby Dick to chase after Blackbeard. He aims to live without regrets, and he’s found someone he wants to spend the rest of his life with, so why wait? (Yara probably doesn’t think much about marriage, but if Ace asked, she wouldn’t say no). In alternate universes where Ace manages to avoid his unfortunate canon fate, they get married shortly after Marineford, after they’ve recovered from their injuries. Ace wanted to come up with an elaborate proposal plan and spent weeks crafting something, scrapping it, and annoying the hell out of Marco in the process. In the end, Ace and Yara are probably doing something simple like looking up at the stars and talking late into the night and he finally just blurts it out unprompted. (Yara is a bit surprised at first, but she eventually responds with a smile and a “Yes, of course I’ll marry you, you wonderful idiot.”)

The wedding is kind of chaotic, but in the best possible way. It was one of those things where it was supposed to be a small wedding (at Yara’s insistence, she really did not want to make a big deal out of it), but more and more people kept getting added to the guest list out of concerns it would be rude to not invite someone, so the event turns into a bit of a who’s who of the pirate world. Whitebeard’s entire fleet is invited, as are the Straw Hats because of course Luffy wouldn’t miss his brother’s wedding for the world. Curly Dadan and the mountain bandits also come, and Dadan spends the entire time ugly-sobbing into a handkerchief. At some point, Shanks’ crew stops by and brings a fresh round of booze with them. Yara begrudgingly (after many long discussions) allows Ace to extend an invitation to Mihawk, who surprisingly shows up. They find a nice uninhabited summer island for the venue, probably one under Whitebeard’s protection. If Whitebeard is alive, he officiates. If not, Jinbei does. Ace definitely cries a bit at the altar, which makes Yara tear up as well. (Neither of them probably ever imagined finding someone who would love them this much). The celebrations last for a solid week, but partway through, Ace and Yara sneak away on Ace’s striker to start their honeymoon early. Afterwards, Ace takes every possible opportunity to refer to Yara as his wife. Saying it aloud never fails to make him grin.

10. What’s their sleeping arrangement? Who falls asleep first?

Ace can fall asleep anywhere, at any time, so Yara has had to learn to adapt to that. Whenever it happens, she just shifts around and tries to make them both as comfortable as possible until he wakes up. He pretty much always falls asleep first and will actively seek Yara out whenever he wants to take a nap. Ace’s devil fruit makes him the perfect person to nap with, so Yara almost never turns him down. It’s not an uncommon sight on the Moby Dick to find them curled up somewhere, having a rest. 

13. What do they love most about the other?

For Yara, loving Ace is like loving the sun-- he’s so bright and warm and passionate and all-consuming, but what she loves most about him is his kindness. He can befriend almost anyone and actively helps others even when it doesn’t necessarily benefit him to do so. (This is the man she watched spend days crafting a very large hat for a giant just to give him some protection from the elements, after all). Ace touches the lives of everyone he encounters, commanding such loyalty from his first crew that they were willing to come back and try to rescue him after he was defeated by Whitebeard, risking annihilation from a much stronger crew just to get their beloved captain back. She counts herself lucky to have been drawn into the orbit of such a bright, wonderful, absolute sweetheart of a man who brags about his little brother fifty times a day and manages to maintain his cheerful demeanour despite how much the world might hate him for the blood that runs through his veins. When Ace turned his kindness towards her, how could she not fall in love with him? 

Yara’s beauty might have first turned Ace’s head in her direction, but that wasn’t what held his attention there. He appreciates her steadfast loyalty to her crew and her sharp wit, but what he loves most about her is her honesty. Yara says what she means and means what she says, so he can always count on her to be straightforward with him. He was absolutely terrified of what she might think upon finding out he’s Gol D. Roger’s son, but when she smiled at him and assured him it changed nothing, he knew that she meant it. Whenever he has his self-doubts, he knows he can come to her and that she won’t just coddle his feelings, but will truly and honestly reassure him of the value that he brings to the world and to the lives of everyone around him. He trusts her opinion more than perhaps anyone else’s and feels like he’s found a partner who truly sees him for all that he is. His heart is in her hands, and he’s certain that when she says she’ll protect it with all her might, that she means it.

[storiesforallfandoms]

thought i lost you ~ captain jack sparrow;pirates of the caribbean

word count: 1310

request?: yes!

“Hey, I have a request for Jack Sparrow if you want to do it. Something along the lines of the reader getting really hurt in a fight or something, and it was kind of Jack's fault, so he feels immensely guilty about it. And Jack was really scared because he thought he might lose her. Then when the reader wakes up, Jack can't hold his tears because he never felt like that before, so she comforts him and eases his worries and maybe he confesses his true feelings for her and they cuddle?”

description: when she is nearly fatally injured during a fight, jack realizes he may never get the chance to confess his feelings again

pairing: jack sparrow x female!reader

warnings: swearing, violence

masterlist (one, two)

It was a glorious fight. (Y/N) was holding up well on her own against Davy Jones’ men as Jack fought the man himself. She was moving so quickly and seamlessly that it was hard for Jones’ men to even pinpoint where she was before she attacked.

Jack had gotten away from Jones for long enough to look at (Y/N). She was pulling her sword from another of the henchmen. She locked eyes with Jack and smiled. He returned it for a brief moment before his face fell and his eyes widened.

“(Y/N), look out!”

Before she could react, she was stabbed from behind by one of Jones’ men. Her eyes went wide as she fell to her knees. Jack was stunned at first, but was spurred into action when the man raised his sword again. He was quick to close the gap between them, swinging his own sword to stop (Y/N)’s attacker.

There was no time to check on her. Her clothes were already stained with blood and they had to get back to the ship. Jack picked her up carefully and raced for the Black Pearl, Davy Jones’ voice following him as he got further and further away.

His crew were waiting when he got back. Gibbs helped him to gently get (Y/N) onto the ship. Her eyes were glossing over and her breathing was slowing by the second. Jack looked around at the faces of the men who were surrounding them, frantically searching for someone.

“Tia!” he called, getting to his feet and approaching the former sea Goddess. “Tia, please, you have to help her. She was stabbed, she’s lost a lot of blood.”

Tia glanced at (Y/N) over Jack’s shoulder. “I’m not a miracle worker, Jack.”

“Please, just try,” he begged. “That’s all I ask for. Please?”

Tia sighed and looked at the injured girl again. She took a moment to consider before nodding to the two nearest crew members. “Take her below deck. I’ll need to be absolutely alone, that includes you Jack.”

The captain nodded, although knowing he couldn’t be with (Y/N) was killing him. He watched as his two crewmates carried (Y/N) down with Tia following behind them. The two men were gone for just a moment before reappearing. Jack continued to watch the door, wanting nothing more than to join them and be with (Y/N).

“Jack,” Gibbs said. “Jack, we have to go. It won’t be long until Davy Jones catches up to us.”

“Right,” Jack said, snapping out of his daze. “Right. Raise the sails!”

He used the escape as a way to take his mind off of what had happened. But it hadn’t taken long for them to flee the island, and soon, Jack was back to wondering what was happening below deck.

He was pacing when the door opened and Tia emerged. Jack looked at her, anxiously awaiting the news he was about to receive.

Tia smiled at him. “Turns out I am a miracle worker.

~~~~~~

Tia had put a spell on (Y/N) to make her sleep for about a day so she could recover. Jack was there when she woke up, apologizing profoundly for her near fatal injury.

“You have no reason to be sorry, Jack,” she assured him.

“You were out there because of me. I should’ve handled it on my own - ”

“I never would’ve let you,” she cut him off. “That would’ve been way too dangerous to face on your own. Even if you hadn’t let me go, I would’ve tried anyways. Imagine how much worst it could’ve been if you hadn’t known I was out there.”

Without thinking, Jack took her hand in his and held it tightly. He lowered his head to hide his tears, but his shaking body gave him away. With her free hand, (Y/N) cupped Jack’s face and made him look at her.

“Jack,” she said, her voice soft.

“Sorry,” he said.

“No, don’t be sorry. I’ve just never seen you cry before.”

“I was so scared. I thought I had lost you.”

She wiped a tear with her thumb. “I didn’t know you cared this much.”

“Of course I do, (Y/N). I care so deeply for you, I always have. It’s because I - ”

He caught himself then. Jack knew he had already said too much and was considering ways to get out of the situation, but he also considered the possibility of finally telling her. The feelings he had been harboring for so long, he could finally just let them out. There was always the possibility of a negative reaction, but it was better than just keeping this to himself for any longer, wasn’t it?

(Y/N) tilted her head to try and look into Jack’s wandering eyes. “It’s because...what?”

Jack sighed and squeezed her hand lightly. “It’s because I have feelings for you, (Y/N). Feelings that are stronger than just a captain and his crewmate, and even stronger than just two friends. I...I have romantic feelings for you, and I have ever since we first met.”

(Y/N) was stunned into silence. After her near death experience the day before, she was sure there was nothing that could top that shocking moment. And yet here she was, speechless because of what Jack had just confessed to her.

The longer she was silent, the more worried Jack became. Maybe it was wrong of him to admit his feelings. If (Y/N) didn’t feel the same way and knowing he did made her feel uncomfortable, she may want to leave the Black Pearl. It could cause an awkward tension throughout the ship since there was no land for possibly miles.

When (Y/N) finally spoke again, her voice was so soft that it was almost inaudible.

“What took you so long?”

Jack looked at her, not his turn to be surprised. “W-What?”

(Y/N) smiled, bringing Jack’s hand to her lips and lightly pressing a kiss against his knuckles.

“I have romantic feelings for you too, Jack. I have for so long. I thought it was inappropriate to have these feelings so I never told you.”

A laugh escaped from Jack’s lips. “How could we both be this clueless?”

“We may be smart, but we’re also pretty stupid?”

Jack chuckled again, or maybe he was still laughing from before. He truly couldn’t tell at that point. He leaned forward, wanting to kiss her, but stopped short. He realized she hadn’t exactly giving him permission for anything like that.

(Y/N) smiled and closed the gap between them, gently pressing her lips against his. The kiss felt right, like it was meant to happen. Jack cupped (Y/N)’s face gently, running his fingers over her soft skin. He didn’t want to ever let go of her. He wanted to keep her close, to keep her safe. He could never risk losing her again.

(Y/N) pulled away from the kiss to suck in a breath of pain.

“Did I hurt you?” Jack asked.

(Y/N) smiled and shook her head. “No, I just moved too suddenly. The wound may be fixed but it’s not completely healed. Tia said it could be another few days before I’m mobile again, and another while still before I’m back to normal.”

“She did the best she could,” Jack said. “I owe her the world for saving you.”

(Y/N)’s fingers lightly brushed over Jack’s face, mirroring his earlier movements. “I owe you the world for saving me. If you hadn’t been there, or hadn’t been so quick, I would’ve been done for.”

“I don’t need the world,” he told her, kissing her hand, “but if you want to repay me, you can start by letting me call you mine.”

“Oh, my captain,” (Y/N) said. “I’ve always been yours.”

[dreamwritesimagines]

Twisted 27 - When The War Comes [Spencer Reid x Reader]

A.N.: Thank you so much for your wonderful support my loves! Here’s the next chapter, I hope you will like it as well, and please let me know what you think of it! ❤❤ Ily, kisses! ❤❤❤

Series Masterlist

Warnings: Murder, serial killers, violence, manipulation, mentions of sex, drinking, smoking, guns, knives, sharp objects, stabbing, hallucinations. 

Word Count: 7500

Summary: Who will you become?

You had to control your anger. You had to control the fire in your veins until you were sure that your niece was safe, that your family was safe, then—

Then you would handle this situation. Until then, it had to wait.

All the training your father had given you was basically screaming at you to attack the threat, but you managed to keep yourself from doing so while you followed him through the woods, paying close attention to your surroundings.

The cabin. This was the way to your father’s cabin in the woods.

You had counted ten armed men on the way here but you had to assume there were more scattered along the woods. You stepped over a tree root before you looked up at the night sky and quickly found the stars that would help you. Thankfully it was a clear night, and your father had taught you long before how to read the sky for direction, in case you needed to-

Hunt.

A shudder went down your spine but you quickly shook your head, you had no time for that fear lurking in your head.

Fear could wait until you made sure you and everyone back home survived.

Considering how your family had no boundaries when it came to you, you were one hundred percent sure that by the time tonight was over, they would arrive at your apartment to see where you were.

“So what is your game here?” you moved your wrists that he had bound the moment you two had reached the end of the road and got off the car to walk into the woods, “You take me there and what? You’ll kill me?”

He looked over his shoulder, “How can you ask me that?” he said and you raised your brows.

“How can I not ask you that?”

At least you could leave a note. Lincoln was just that stupid.

“They’ll come looking for me,” you told him as he rolled his eyes, still pointing the gun at you.

“Who, your boyfriend?”

“He works in the FBI, you fu—“ you had to remember to stop yourself. He had access to Lily, so you knew you had to play it along, even if you barely felt anything other than anger. “Yeah. My boyfriend.”

“You broke up with him once, you can do it again,” he said and pointed at the pen and paper on the kitchen island, “Just write you need some time or whatever, he can see it when he gets here. Less suspicions.”

You grabbed the pen and paper, then clenched your teeth, your mind working nonstop.

“I’m waiting, Y/N.”

You stole a look at him, then leaned in to write on the paper;

Hamlet,

I need some time alone.

Ophelia.

Ophelia died in a lake, and you hoped that Spencer could make the connection between that and the time you had told him about Lincoln pushing you into the lake by the cabin.

He took a look at the note, then made a face.

“You call him Hamlet?” he said, shaking his head, “I never really liked that play. Let’s go.”

“Do you seriously think I would harm you, in any way?” he asked when you got to the stone stairs leading to the cabin, “I will explain everything once we sit down.”

“Will you untie me?”

“I’m not an idiot,” he answered as you climbed the stairs after him, his grip on your arm almost too tight and you gritted your teeth to stop yourself from coming up with a comeback. You looked up at the cabin, the memory of the last time you were there hitting you out of nowhere and churning your stomach, but you managed not to throw up as he slightly pushed you through the open door.

Don’t be scared, you commanded yourself in your head Fear is useless.

That was one of the things your father had taught you during those predator and prey games. Prey always got scared, which led them to panic, which led them to making mistakes that would cost them their lives.

You were a predator. You had always been a predator, since you were a child, and there was no fucking way Lincoln of all people could turn you into a prey.

He pulled a chair, then motioned at you to sit down.

“Remember, if you try anything…” he said, “If I don’t send the code to my friend—“

“Yeah, you’ll hurt my niece,” you spat, “Some man, aren’t you? Threatening a kid.”

He untied your hands, then pulled them behind the chair and started tying them again, and you raised your brows slightly.

Rather than wrapping the rope around your wrists separately then pulling them together, he was just tying them together, which was a terrible rookie mistake your father would never have done. Escaping from those, especially with a rope was almost easy with enough knowledge, and you slightly widened the gap between your wrists by pressing your thumbs together, not wide enough to make him suspicious but wide enough to give you enough space to move your wrists when you wanted to get rid of the ropes.

Almost everything was automatic at this point, you were following everything your father had made sure to engrave into your mind.

“There, that’s better,” he said and let out a breath, a small smile pulling at his lips, “Hi.”

You tilted your head, looking at him silently.

“That was a bluff by the way. I would never hurt anyone you love, I thought you knew that by now.”

That seemed to distract you from the fury, “What?”

“Everyone that I killed,” he pulled a seat for himself so that he could sit across from you and leaned in slightly, elbows on his knees, “Everyone, that was for you. I did it for you. Don’t you see that? From that childhood friend to your douchebag ex?”

Oh God you were going to be sick.

Spencer was right. You were sitting with the copycat killer back there, at the charity auction.

“I can’t believe you don’t remember,” he ran a hand through his hair, “You told me what was happening, when we were kids. You told me a week before that night in the graveyard, that’s how your father let me come with you both. My parents had drunk too much at your parents’ party— you don’t remember any of that? I was the one who you shared that sacred secret with, no one else, not even your family. It was me.”

“Sacred?” you repeated, “My father was a monster, Lincoln.”

“Don’t say that,” he shook his head, the glare in his eyes sharpening, “Never say that. He…he is way ahead of all of us, if he didn’t get caught he’d be an even bigger legend than he already is. He brought us together.”

“You brought me here by threatening me and you tied me to a chair. My father is a terrible person, but this right here is your choice you fucking asshole.”

“Because I need you to understand,” he nodded to himself, “You will understand.”

“I will understand what?”

“That I did this for us!” he snapped and he swallowed thickly, taking a deep breath, “That I love you.”

A hysterical laugh escaped from your lips and you gawked at him.

“You love me,” you repeated, “You— you have been terrorizing me for months, you killed people, you fucking destroyed my life because you love me?”

“I’ll set you free,” he said, “Free of all these bounds everyone else put you into. I’ve seen your potential back when we were still kids, then after your father was arrested they turned you into something else, some shadow of what you’re capable of. Then I came back and you…” he ran a hand over his face, “You decided to get into an agent’s bed.”

“Don’t even—“

“He would try to change you,” he cut you off, sniffling, “He would, Petal. He would smother you with these stupid ethical rules and all that bullshit, but I’ll— we’ll be free together.”

If your last encounter with your father had taught you anything, it was that delusional killers didn’t exactly react well to a reality check. You moved your hands under the ropes, pulling at them just a little.

You would just have to play along until you were free, then you could be out of there.

The more you know about your prey, your father’s voice echoed in your ears, The easier it will be to take them down.

“How about your girlfriend?”

His head shot up and he shrugged,

“I mean,” he trailed off, “She thinks she’s my girlfriend.”

You gritted your teeth. “Erica,” you said, “Right. My girlfriend doesn’t have the same financial status as we do, huh? My fucking assistant, Lincoln? What did you offer her?”

“Offer her?” he asked, “I didn’t have to offer her anything. Who did you think your father’s outside source was?”

You pulled back slightly and he scoffed a laugh.

“I know,” he said, “She wants to kill you, not that I would ever let her, but she can believe that for the time being. I know you feel betrayed honey—“

“Don’t call me that.”

“But we only need her until a point, after she makes a phone call to get your family off our backs, she will be my gift to you.”

You dug your fingernails into your palms to remind yourself to focus, “Your gift?”

“There’s nothing like killing someone you know,” he dragged the tip of his tongue over his bottom lip, “It’s not like strangers, not at all. That shit’s special, Petal. You’ll see when the time comes.”

Before you could even think of an answer, you heard the footsteps coming closer and the door opened, making you turn your head to see Erica who almost looked intimidated for a moment upon seeing you, but she managed to pull herself together.

“You might want to check out the west team,” she told Lincoln and he paused.

“Can I trust you with this?”

Erica frowned, “You can trust me with anything, you know that,” she said softly and you closed your eyes for a moment, pulling at the ropes tight enough to hurt before you felt it get loose just a little. The rough material of the ropes almost burnt your skin the more you kept moving your hands, but you gritted your teeth, trying to ignore it.

You heard the door close and the lock sliding into its place as you opened your eyes, and saw Erica putting the key into her pocket.

“I like your dress,” she said as she sat down, “Too bad it’ll get bloody.”

“You were my father’s outside source?” you asked, trying to ignore her comment, “You?”

She gave you a bright smile, and rested her arm on the back of the chair, making herself comfortable.

“That’s right.”

“Whatever he’s paying you—“

“He’s not paying me,” she spat as if she was insulted at the implication, “You ungrateful little bitch. I’m doing this because I want to, because I respect him. I believe in what he stands for, not like you would understand.”

“Jesus, you’re one of those freaks,” you muttered to yourself, tugging at the ropes around your wrists, “Serial killer groupie huh?”

“I’m not a groupie,” she spat,  “I respect your father, not just any serial killer. It’s him. No one in your family deserves him, much less you, and—“ she shook her head, “The way you disrespect him and his name…”

“Disrespect him?” you let out a laugh, “Oh that’s rich.”

“He was right, you know?” she said, “Only the smart and strong is supposed to survive in this world, not weak. And he tried to raise you to follow in his footsteps, but you were too weak to do so. He just doesn’t see that.”

You clicked your tongue, “But you see that?”

“If he were my father,” she leaned in, gritting her teeth, “It doesn’t matter. By the time this is over, after I get rid of you and prove myself, he will see me as a daughter. Not you. You’re not strong enough to survive in our world. Lincoln agrees—“

“Lincoln is using you,” you cut her off, “He’s going to get rid of you as soon as he’s done. Let me guess, he told you you could kill me?”

“We’ll make you regret disrespecting father’s name first, then I will kill you, yes.”

“Yeah that’s not gonna happen,” you said, “Face it, you fucking idiot. He’s using you, just like my father is using—“ you didn’t get to finish your sentence when she lunged from her seat and slapped you across the face, her ring splitting your lip. You made a face, and spat out the blood filling your mouth, trying to ignore the sting on your tongue upon biting it.

“You know what?” she asked, “Lincoln always said no for some reason, but if you keep going like that, I can make you hurt really bad.”

“Aw sweetheart, you don’t have enough training for that,” you cooed, “What, you did some google search, looked up my father’s methods and now you think you can torture people? You think that’s how it goes?”

“I didn’t say it’d be physical,” she curled her lips, “You wouldn’t want your family to get hurt, do you?”

Your eyes snapped up to hers, that fire awakening at the pit of your stomach. She tilted her head, obviously pleased with your reaction.

“I suggested Lily instead of your ex….Anthony, was it? I said we should kill her and put her in the middle of your living room back then, but Linc said no. He said it’d hurt your father too.”

A numbness spread over your forehead, then went to the back of your head, reaching your spine as you blinked a couple of times.

“You were going to kill my niece?” you heard yourself ask and Erica crossed her legs.

“I bet that would’ve made you think twice before you disrespected John.”

You could almost feel it. Feel the fury taking over, that anger your father had always insisted you possessed roaring through you until it reached your heart, wrapping itself around it tighter and tighter.

Let the predator come out Petal, your father used to say Let it come out.

You rolled your shoulder back and cracked your neck with your eyes closed, an exact copy of your father as you twisted your hands under the ropes before you opened your eyes again to look at Erica.

“You don’t deserve him,” she insisted, “You all—you all just locked him away and forgot about him until Linc came back, until we started this. He will see soon that blood means nothing, me and Linc are going to be his legacy, not you.”

You tugged a little harder around the knot, then turned your wrist and managed to pull it out of the tight rope even if it scratched the skin over your wrists, making the burn spread over your arm.

“He taught you some stuff, big fucking deal,” she said, “I learned by myself. Without anyone to help me. Without someone else holding my hand.”

You clenched your fists, trying to ignore the throbbing as you slowly pulled your other hand out of the knotted rope.

“Yeah you missed a rule though,” you asked, dragging the tip of your tongue over the dried blood on your lip, “You’re not supposed to make them bleed unless you can kill them.”

Erica pulled her brows together, then a shriek escaped from her lips as soon as you let the rope fall, raising your hands in a mocking manner so that she could see.

“You chose the wrong victim, baby,” you said and she kicked the chair at you, then darted for upstairs, screaming while you just raised your brows, rolling your eyes.

Panic always led to mistakes like these, like rushing to somewhere one couldn’t escape from.

Upstairs was always a bad idea.

You made your way to the kitchen and pulled open the second drawer where your mother used to keep the knives, then grabbed a huge knife before you flipped it in your hand.

“Erica,” you called out, “Get back here, you’re fucking fired!”

She slammed a door upstairs and you scoffed a laugh, adrenaline pulsing through you as you dragged the tip of the knife over the walls, climbing the stairs.

“You know, if you give me the key I might make it quick,” you flipped the knife again, playing with it before you ran it over the steel staircase finial, letting her hear the sharp noise, “No promises though.”

Silence.

“I know you’re in here,” you sang, looking into the dark. Your father had taught you this long ago, if you couldn’t see, you had to make sure how to listen in the dark to find the location of whoever you wanted to hunt.

You took a deep breath and held it, not even moving a muscle and sure enough, a very faint creak reached your ears and you turned your head.

Second door to the left.

It used to be Mina’s room.

You let out a whistle echoing in the otherwise silent hall, disappearing into the dark before you stood in front of the door and ran the tip of the knife over the wood, almost relishing the slight whimper coming from the other side of the room.

“You were going to go after my family?” your voice rose as you kicked at the door, and Erica let out another scream.

“Lincoln!”

“Oh come on, where’s that strong survivor you’ve been telling me so much about?” you taunted, kicking at the door again but it didn’t open. “Hm? I thought you were going to prove yourself?”

“I-I swallowed the key, I can’t give it to you!”

“Ah well, I guess I’ll have to cut you open!” you shouted and kicked at the door once again and at last, the lock broke with a click and the door swung open, hitting the wall. Erica grabbed the chair closest to her, holding it up.

“Don’t!”

You flipped the knife in your hand, the grinned and took a step to her, so focused on adrenaline pulsing through your system that you didn’t even notice her eyes focusing on something over your shoulder until it was too late. Before you could even turn around, someone pulled you back, expertly avoiding the knife by bending your arm back and pressed a cloth over your mouth and nose, that sharp scent making you gag.

Chloroform.

Lincoln.

A tingling reached your head and that fuzzy warmth reached the back of your head, then closed your eyes shut.

                                                ***

You had no idea how long it took you out, but when you opened your eyes, it was still night. You grabbed at the side of your head and sat up in the bed, the whole room spinning around you.

Your childhood bedroom. You were in your childhood bedroom in the cabin.

“Hey,” Lincoln’s voice reached you and you turned your head to see him leaning on the doorframe.

Shit.

That was a mistake. Of course that was a mistake, and you couldn’t even believe yourself just how stupid you had been to act so careless.

“Easy, chloroform messes you up,” Lincoln said, “I’d stay in the bed for a while if I were you. You can’t attack anyone like this, you know?”

You weren’t supposed to follow your dad’s example in a situation like this. There was a reason why he was locked away, a reason why people had caught up with what he was doing, he was way too impulsive, way too destructive in terms of physical means. You had been so focused on protecting your family and going after the nearest threat that you had forgotten who you were.

You weren’t just your father’s daughter, you were also your mother’s.

And this right here? It wasn’t your father’s expertise yet, his time would come when you would have to fight your way out.

It was your mother’s.

Manipulation.

It was time to channel her, not your father.

“What happened?” you asked and Lincoln heaved a sigh, then pushed himself off the doorframe.

“You went after Erica,” he said, “She’s pretty shaken, but I told you Petal. You need to be patient, we just need her up to a point. After that, she’s all yours.”

You narrowed your eyes and slowly swung your legs over the edge of the bed, running a hand through your hair.

“And how much longer will I be subjected to this humiliation of yours? Can you give me an exact time or should I just wait here?”

He stared at you for a moment, trying to understand what you meant and you just arched a brow, a look of completely nonchalant sneer flashing over your face, the exact same expression you had seen on your mother countless times.

“I’ll take this silence as a no.”

“Humiliation?” he repeated, “When- how did I humiliate you?”

“How did you humiliate me?” you scoffed a laugh, “Are you serious right now?”

Jesus, your head was absolutely killing you but you had to focus.

“I’d never humiliate you, I love you.”

“Yeah yeah,” you waved a dismissive hand in the air, “You love me, we’re supposed to be together. I guess I’ll have to take your word for it while ignoring your actions, is that it?”

“My actions? Y/N—“

“So you bring me in here,” you cut him off, glaring at him, “You give me this whole speech about how you’d do anything for me, how we’re—we’re meant to be, and then you leave me in the same room with your ex so that she can boast about you? How you two are in love, how you two are together?”

“I told you, we just need her until—“

“That’s your love?” you interrupted him again and pushed yourself to stand up, crossing your arms while looking him dead in the eye, “Is that the proof of your love? Rubbing your girlfriend on my face? All the while she talks about how you two are going to be my father’s legacy together, like I don’t exist?”

“She just thinks that, I made her think that so that we can use her—“

“And then,” you said through your teeth, “You stop me and knock me out while I’m going after her to get rid of her?” you clapped your hands slowly, “Yeah. Proclamation of love right there Linc, congratulations.”

He licked his lips, obviously taking aback. “Y/N, we need her for now.”

“Mm hm, exactly,” you shot him a sweet smile “Looks like you need her a lot.”

“Not like that,” he shook his head, “Not what you think, I swear. She’s nothing.”

“No, I think she’s not nothing,” you clicked your tongue, “I think you formed some sort of attachment to your prey—“

“I didn’t!”

“Because you grew soft for her, and now you’re confused whether you want me more or her.”

He strode to you in three steps and pulled you closer, tilting your head up, and you had to command yourself not to make a face.

“I want you,” he said, “I always have, you know that.”

“Bullshit.”

He groaned, “Y/N-“

“No, it’s fucking bullshit.” You pushed his hands away, and searched your mind for the final nail on the coffin.

“Did you sleep with her?”

The expression on Lincoln’s face shifted and he averted his eyes.

Bingo.

“Did you? While you were in love with me, while you knew that we were meant to be, did you or did you not sleep with her?”

“You slept with that agent,” he shot back and you shook your head.

“I didn’t know you would do anything for me,” you insisted, “I had no idea—you said you had a girlfriend, I barely remember anything from my childhood let alone sharing so much with you and you didn’t tell me. But you knew,” you dug your finger into his chest, “You knew everything and you kept it hidden from me, so answer me this, did you sleep with her? While you knew you were in love with me?”

He swallowed thickly and opened his mouth, then closed it again, and you took a step back, trying to look heartbroken.

“Wow.”

“Y/N.”

“Wow. You actually did.”

“Listen to me, she doesn’t mean anything, I swear to you. It was just to manipulate—“

“Get out of my room.”

He frowned, “What?”

“Get the fuck out of my room and leave me alone until you’re ready to show me you actually love me.”

“You don’t mean that,” he started and took a step towards you, but you grabbed the nearest object which turned out to be one of your old dusty plushies and threw it to him.

“Get out!” you yelled and he took a step back, raising his hands.

“I’ll… I’ll come back when you’re calmer,” he said and closed the door behind him, and you lost your balance, falling on your knees.

People were just so easy to manipulate, thanks to your mother.

“Okay,” you whispered to yourself, “Thanks mom, time for dad’s turn.”

Weapons.

You reached under your bed to take a look at the secret compartment that your dad used to make you put your knives, but it was of course empty. Lincoln was stupid when it came to you, but he wasn’t a complete idiot, apparently. You pushed yourself off your knees and stood up, then closed your eyes and focused on your breathing, trying to clear your mind.

Your father had taught you this long before, in every room, there was something you could use as a weapon or turn into one.

You took a deep breath, exhaled it and opened your eyes.

It would have to be something precise, Lincoln had a point, you were in no shape to get into an actual fight with him. So you would need something sharp, and something that you could hide in either your sleeve or somewhere easily reachable. Something that Lincoln wouldn’t see until the next time.

You could tear down the bed to get to the bed springs, but it would take a long time and there was the danger of him walking in on you.

There was a chair and your post-its, some tape, small notebooks by the corner, hair ties and a music box on the desk in front of the window—

The music box.

The music box had a mirror.

“There you are,” you muttered to yourself as you took the music box, then grabbed the tape and your hair ties. You checked the door, then sat down, covered the mirror with the long skirt of your dress, then pushed on it with your elbow until you heard the small noise of the mirror breaking. You pulled back and uncovered it, then grabbed the longest shard, ripped out a couple of pages from your notebook and started taping it around the shard before you wrapped your hair ties around it so as not to let it slip or hurt your hand.

By the time you heard Lincoln’s footsteps coming upstairs, you had spent almost an hour preparing your weapon. You looked up, then closed the music box and put it back before tucking your newly made weapon under the lacy sleeve of your dress, and got on the bed, leaned your back to the bedframe and crossed your arms.

“Petal?” Lincoln called out and you gritted your teeth and turned your head when he peeked his head in.

“Hey, do you want to join me for some food downstairs?”

You narrowed your eyes, “Depends. Will your girlfriend be joining us?”

“I knocked her out and put her in your dad’s basement,” Lincoln said, “She will stay there until you feel like getting rid of her, and I won’t stand in your way this time. Okay?”

He offered you his hand and you eyed it, then pushed it away and managed to stand up on your own.

“Still dizzy?”

“A little,” you confessed, “Still angry too.”

Lincoln chuckled and heaved a sigh, “We need to talk about this jealousy of yours babe.”

You managed to control your expression and ignored him as you went downstairs. The rug was pulled to the side so that you could see the hidden door to the basement, but it was closed. You looked at the table in the middle of the living room that was covered in food, and there was a vase of jasmine flowers between the lit candles. You were still sure that you couldn’t engage in an actual fight until the chloroform was completely out of your system, but you didn’t have to worry about it since Lincoln seemed not to put any knives on the table. Your dad’s old vinyl was playing by the corner, the soothing melody creating a complete contrast with what was happening.

“A dance before dinner?” he asked you, “Come on. That dress needs to be used in a dance, don’t you think?”

You thought for a moment, then shrugged your shoulders and took his hand, then wrapped your arms around his neck as he pressed his hands to the small of your back, pulling you closer before you started swaying with the melody.

You just needed an exact time for him to lower his defenses completely, because you only had one shot at this.

Stab the prey, twist the knife, pull it back and watch them bleed.

“You have no idea how much I waited for this,” he said, “When I was in Italy, I would….dream of this at night.”

You didn’t answer, you just made sure to keep your wrist at an angle so that the mirror shard wouldn’t slip.

“And when I came back and saw you for the first time in that red gown…” he murmured, “I thought I would drop dead. You were even more beautiful than I pictured.”

“Why didn’t you tell me back then?” you asked absentmindedly and he shrugged.

“I didn’t know how you would react.”

“And all those people who died?”

“Some of them were diversion,” he said, “Some of them were chosen. I promised myself no one could make you sad, ever. I would’ve killed that agent too if he was the one to break up with you, but then you said it was your choice, and… I don’t know. I thought it’d raise suspicions.”

Spencer.

He had considered killing Spencer.

Goosebumps rose on your skin but you reminded yourself to stay calm and focus, you had already slipped once because of your anger, you wouldn’t get a second chance.

“What about Anthony?” you asked, “You killed him… was it to frame me?”

“God no,” he said, shaking his head, “Of course not. Erica thought it was revenge for how you were treating John, but I wanted to make you remember how it felt to be in the scene of your father’s doing, how….how powerful it made you feel. I thought that would make you see how everyone around you was trying to make you into something you’re not. Deep down, Y/N, you’re just like me. That’s why we will be legends.”

A bitter taste appeared at the back of your throat and you swallowed thickly.

“And my father?”

“He knew we were supposed to be together,” he said, “He knew you would need a…companion in this. Us, free together. That’s why your father failed, because he couldn’t share who he was with your mother. It won’t happen with us, ever.”

Stab the prey, twist the knife, pull it back and watch them bleed.

You moved your wrist so that the shard could slip low enough for you to hold it and Lincoln leaned in slightly, his eyes closing.

“I love you,” he whispered against your lips and you smiled.

“Oh Lincoln,” you murmured, your heart beating in your ears, “You should’ve known better.”

With that, you drove the shard right into his stomach, making him gasp and open his eyes. Betrayal was written all over his face, it was very clear he hadn’t expected it as you twisted the shard, making him lose his breath before you pulled it back, blood splashing over your face and your dress. You shoved him, making him lose his balance and fall down, taking the coffee table with him, causing some noise and as if on cue, Erica started screaming his name from the basement.

“Erica, shut up before I come down there and break your fucking neck!” you called out and the screaming stopped.

“Thank you,” you said and turned to grin at Lincoln who was breathing hard, his face pale.

“Y/N—“

“Oh don’t worry, you won’t die right away,” you said, “Dad taught me that one, ages ago. I stabbed you in the stomach, and it’s a pretty thin shard, so it’s not the blood loss that will kill you. It’ll be the toxic shock, because right now everything in your stomach including acid is contaminating your system. Should be fun, huh?”

“Why did you—“ he coughed, and you snapped your fingers.

“Hold that thought, I gotta get something from the kitchen,” you said and walked to the kitchen to open the drawers, then grabbed some knives and scissors before you want back to the living room, “Yeah, you were saying?”

“We’re meant to be,” he managed to say, trying to breathe and you hopped on the table before you cut the floor length skirt, ripping it out.

If you were going to run through the woods, you needed to be in something you could easily move and fight in.

“Nah we’re not,” you said, “You’re delusional, that’s it.”

“Petal—“

“See, I could’ve gone easy on you,” you said, wrapping the cloth around your injured wrist, “Really. I could’ve just escaped and handed you to the FBI and be done with it, but no. You two had to bring my family and Spencer into this so now,” you tut-tutted, “Now you get to suffer.”

“He doesn’t understand you,” he said, pressing on the wound and leaning his head back to the wall, “He never will, not like I do. We’re meant to get rid of every weak person in the world, everyone who deserves to die.”

You let out a laugh, now wrapping the cloth around your knuckles, “Uh huh.”

“You’re meant to be the legacy.”

“Maybe. Or maybe I’m just meant to be a wedding planner,” you pointed at him with the knife and walked to him to grab the key from his pocket, then you pulled his boots off his feet, took off your heels and started getting into his boots.

“Petal, we’re supposed to be together.”

“Because my insane sadistic father said so?”

“Because I know you.”

You looked up from the boots you were tying as tight as possible, “Hm? You know me?”

“I do.”

You put two of the knives in each boot and jumped down to rock on the balls of your feet, trying to see if you could move well.

“That’s your first mistake buddy,” you said, now wrapping the rope over your boots, “See if you knew me, you wouldn’t be so careless, would you? You took me here and what? You didn’t think I’d kill my way out? You didn’t think I’d turn you and your serial killer groupie partner into my prey?” You pulled at the rope, “Honestly, you two fucked with the wrong legacy.”

“I don’t—“

“My father raised me to be unstoppable,” you said, “And apparently you know that. So you should’ve considered that it’d take more than two copycats to take me down, and—“ a manic laughter escaped from your lips, “Did you seriously think you could beat me at my own fucking game?”

He coughed, making a face and closed his eyes.

“You have hours until you die, but if I make it out on time, maybe I’ll send some medics here. Maybe. Depends on if I feel merciful, who knows?” you grinned, “Your survival depends on my mood, isn’t that ironic?”

“There are ten men between here and your weekend house, you’d never make it out.”

“I’m not going north,” you said and Lincoln frowned.

“South? That’s just woods.”

“No, it’s a longer way than north, but there’s a road at the end. Dad once made me find my way through the woods.”

“You can’t leave me behind,” he coughed again, “We’re meant to be together. We’re meant to work together and kill together, that’s our love story.”

You pursed your lips, then grabbed a jasmine from the vase and walked towards him.

“Even if I wanted to follow in that monster’s footsteps,” you said, looking down at him, “Even if I wanted a companion, it wouldn’t be you. You’re fucking dead weight, Linc. You don’t have what it takes.”

With that, you let the flower drop on him, unlocked the door and stepped outside, the chill air filling your lungs. After looking around to see whether it was safe, you went to the back of the house, and looked up at the stars, calculating which way to go.

Then, you tied your hair up and started running.

                                             ***

As it turned out, Lincoln had fewer men on the south of the woods, but there were still people. You had gotten rid of two of them and tied them up with the rope you had taken with you, but it would take one mistake for them to drag you back to the cabin, so you couldn’t take any risks.

You heard the faint noise of a radio and looked over your shoulder, then climbed up to the nearest tree, keeping as silent as possible. The light of a flashlight soon lit up under you and a man came into your view.

“South number five is clear,” he said into the radio and as soon as he put it into his pocket, you jumped down silently, standing behind him for a moment before you smacked his head into the tree, making him pass out. You unwrapped a part of the rope and tied his hands and feet before you stuck the cloth around your arm into his mouth so that when he woke up he wouldn’t be able to ask for help. You let out a breath and walked deeper into the woods, but as soon as you jumped over a tree root, someone grabbed you by the hair and slammed you head first into the tree. A ringing echoed in your ears, getting louder and louder but you managed to pull the knife from your boot and drive it into his leg, making him grunt and you used your whole body weight to turn around with his arm around you, popping it out of its socket and he dropped you with a yelp, kicking you in the ribs and a fire spread from your ribs into your whole body, making you stop the scream at the last minute.

“You fucking bitch-“ he said but as soon as he grabbed you again, you managed to push yourself up and grab the rest of the rope you had left. You kicked him back and jumped on his back, wrapping the rope around his neck as he tried to get you off.

“I’m not killing you you fucking idiot!” you grit out as he slammed back into the tree to get you off, “I’m making you pass out, that’s all!”

Soon enough, he dropped to his knees and fell to the ground while you tried to catch your breath, but everything hurt. You wiped at the blood that was seeping from the cut on your forehead, drenching your face and your dress but managed to tie him up and get away from him.

It didn’t take you long though. It felt like the whole forest was spinning around you and you felt someone pulling the ground from under your feet before you fell back, your eyes closing.

You had no idea how long you stayed there unconscious but the unmistakable sound of a shot being fired made you open your eyes with a gasp as you winced at the pain pulsing through your whole body.

“It doesn’t sound so good.”

You slowly turned your head to see your father sitting by the tree, his arms crossed and you let out a groan.

“Is this hell?” you asked, “I just died and it’s hell, right? There’s no way I’m hallucinating about you.”

“You didn’t die yet,” your father said as he looked at the way the shot was fired. “I assume you didn’t search for Lincoln’s gun before you walked out of the cabin?”

“Lincoln can’t move,” you said and your father tut-tutted.

“Erica could move just fine the last you saw her though.”

“Shit.” You closed your eyes for a moment and your father heaved a sigh.

“So what do we have here?” he said, “Head injury, concussion, loss of blood, and that guy over there just broke a rib or two, right?”

“Shut up.”

“I’m just saying, you wouldn’t stand a chance against someone coming at you with a gun when you’re like this.”

You swallowed thickly, your eyes burning.

“I can’t move,” you managed to say through your teeth, “It hurts.”

“Does it hurt enough to kill you? Because that’s what will happen if she and her men find you here.”

You tried to blink back the tears, “What if it’s supposed to end this way?”

“Supposed to end this way?” your father stood up and glared down at you, “Petal, I didn’t spend years to train you just so that you could die in a forest in the middle of nowhere. Get up.”

“Dad, I tried to survive, okay?” you said, “I tried—”

“Well, that’s not enough right now, is it though?” he asked and snapped his fingers, “You’re a survivor, your mother and I made sure of that. Stop acting like a prey, get up.”

“Dad-“

“Get up!” his voice shot through your head and you opened your eyes again, coughing, that ringing in your ears due to the pain blocking out everything but the gunshot that sounded much closer than before. You dug your fingernails into your palms and pulled yourself up by grabbing at the nearest tree, then wiped the blood off your face again.

“Okay,” you muttered to yourself, “Okay, Stop acting like a prey. Which way to go?”

You looked up at the night sky and found the star you were looking for before you started making your way through the forest, even if it felt like you could pass out any second. You had no idea how long you had been walking when all of a sudden the brightness of flashlight entered your vision, making you hold your breath and grab the handle of your knife tighter, thinking that it was Lincoln and Erica’s men.

It was only when you saw a very familiar face wearing an FBI vest that you let out the breath you were holding, the knife slipping from your grip.

“Spencer?” you rasped out and he just stared at you before he started running to you.

“You’re alive,” he managed to say before he pulled you into a tight hug, making you wince in pain. He pulled back immediately, his hands cradling your head.

“Are you—“

He didn’t get to finish that sentence. It happened in less than a second, but the sound of a gunshot that rang through the forest echoed in your ears before blood splattered over his face, making you stumble as if someone pushed you from behind.

“Why is there blood?” you managed to ask before a fire spread through your chest, taking your breath away and Spencer’s eyes widened as he lowered them to the gunshot wound bleeding on your chest. Everyone ran past you, yelling something into the radio and shooting their guns at someone behind you while the fire made its way through your whole system, the ringing in your ears getting worse.

The last thing you remembered was Spencer catching you before you hit the ground but whatever he was saying to you got drowned out in the loud noise of the helicopter flying above you. The lights of it got brighter and brighter before a warmth pulled you out of the pain and surrounded you.

Then everything went black.

Chapter 28

[watchmegetobsessed]

TO LOVE AND BE LOVED - Part Four (Harry Styles)

a/n: happy TLABL day!! can’t believe we are already on part 4! im not sure if part 5 will be the last part, im still very much writing the rest so we’ll see! thank you so much for all the love you’ve been showing the series, i love reading your reactions! feedback is very much appreciated this time as well!

pairing: CEO!Dad!Harry X Reader

warning: mentions of death, cheating and divorce

word count: 11k

SERIES MASTERPOST masterlist

You wake up feeling like you’ve been hit by a truck or at least consumed a whole bottle of tequila. Your head is pounding and it’s probably with all the crying and stress, so you are quick to take some pills to ease the pain. Sitting on the edge of your bed you stare ahead of you blankly, trying to gain power to start the day.

Though today is Sunday, so you are not working, you’re still worried to face Harry after whatever it was that happened last night. What were you thinking, kissing your boss out of the blue? And what was he thinking kissing you for the second time? It kind of feels like a dream, but you know it really did happen.

You try to stay in your room as long as possible, avoiding to face Harry, but soon enough you can’t postpone it any longer, because you are starving. Peeking out of your room you hear voices coming from downstairs and as you reach the stairs you recognize not just Harry’s and Izzy’s voice, but Niall’s as well.

Arriving downstairs you see Niall and Izzy sitting on the stools at the kitchen island while Harry is cleaning the dishes after their breakfast probably. He is wearing a pair of light-washed jeans and a black hoodie, the sleeves bunched around his elbows. He looks so casual and yet just looking at him makes your heart skip a beat. You are in some big trouble.

Niall spots you first and he perks up waving in your way happily.

“Good morning, Y/N!” he beams, his accent sounds so comforting in such a stressful moment, for some reason.

“Hi, good morning,” you breathe out. Harry turns around, his eyes fall on you and a shiver runs down your spine. He just looked at you and you already want to run away and hide in your room a little longer.

“Morning,” he greets you with a nod before turning back to the sink to finish the dishes.

“Daddy and Uncle Niall are taking me to the park! We are picking Yara up too!” Izzy shares the news with you excitedly.

“Oh, that sounds great!” you smile at her, giving her cheek a gentle pinch before moving to the fridge.

“Do you want to come?” she invites you and your eyes immediately flicker over to Harry who looks at you the exact same time, making your stomach drop right away.

“Um, I have some work to do, maybe some other time,” you smile at Izzy, grabbing yourself a yoghurt and a banana before shutting the fridge closed.

“So how was yesterday?” Niall asks and you freeze. Does he know what happened? Did Harry tell him about last night?

Niall sees your frightened look to which he shoots you a confused one.

“The wedding, Harry told me earlier you had a wedding yesterday.”

“Oh, it went… fine,” you nod shortly, peeking at Harry who is now staring down at his feet awkwardly. This was starting to get painfully ridiculous, the two of you dancing around each other, pretending like you weren’t down each other’s throats just a few hours prior.

“Alright, let’s leave, we need to pick Yara up in twenty,” Harry claps his hands. Izzy jumps off the stool and takes Niall’s hand as they all head out of the house. “We’ll probably have lunch somewhere and then go grocery shopping, so we’ll be away for a while,” he informs you without looking your way before leaving without even waiting for any reaction from you.

Yeah, this was straight up the most awkward conversation you’ve had in a long time.

“Here, Izzy. Play some games on my phone!” Niall passes his phone to her with a sweet smile, but Harry smacks his bicep.

“What are you doing? She has enough screen time already!”

“Yeah, but I needed her to be busy so I can ask you what the fuck was that in the house.”

Harry curls his lips into his mouth, his eyes glued to the road ahead of him as he tries to come up with a good answer, but he knows he could never fool his best friend.

“Don’t stop, even if she is busy with the phone,” Harry scolds him, glancing at Izzy through the mirror, but she doesn’t seem to be listening to them. Niall rolls his eyes, but lets his words uncommented. “Besides, I don’t know what you’re talking about.” “Oh, you exactly know it. You and Y/N were like scared little bunnies around each other. She looked like she was about to faint any moment when you looked at her.”

“Maybe she was just tired,” he shrugs, but Niall laughs at his weak attempt to fool him.

“Now tell me the real reason, I know something happened.”

Harry chews on his bottom lip, debating whether he should come clean or not, but he knows Niall won’t leave him until he finally tells him so he is not left with many choices.

“We kissed.”

“What?!” Niall snaps, a little louder than Harry expected, his voice makes him flinch. “Sorry, that was a little too dramatic, but what the fuck? Why were you keeping this from me?!”

“Because I knew this is how you’d react,” Harry mumbles under his breath. “And… I don’t think it will ever happen again.”

“What do you mean?”

“The whole thing was a mess,” Harry sighs. “She came home late, pretty upset because she met with her ex at the wedding.”

“The one that cheated on her?”

“Mhm. The dude was an asshole and… she was crying in the kitchen when I came down. We sat on the couch, talked, I tried to calm her down and all that and then… she kissed me.”

“Wait, she kissed you? Wow, she’s got balls!” Niall laughs.

“Yeah, but it was, like, really short and she pulled back, shocked at herself for doing it. I think it was just all the emotions that got her a little confused. But then she tried to apologize and… and I kissed her.”

“What?! Oh my God!” Niall’s mind is blown and he doesn’t even tries to hide his excitement hearing the news about last night. “Was there tongue?”

“Jesus, Niall!” Harry scowls. “I’m not sharing the details with you.”

“Okay, but was it like a solid, short kiss or you guys went right at it?”

Harry doesn’t answer, but it tells enough about the situation and Niall can’t help but whistle as he claps his hands.

“Stop acting like a horny teenager, Niall,” Harry growls rolling his eyes at his friend.

“So you guys snogged, what’s the matter with that?”

“It got awkward. We just pulled back and I think we both were pretty shocked about it and… she just stood up and said that she is going to bed. End of story. And then you were there in the morning, so… yeah.”

“Tell me why the hell we are heading to a playdate then when you should be talking to her?” Niall asks, arching an eyebrow at Harry.

“There’s not much to talk about. It just happened in the heat of the moment, that’s all,” Harry shrugs, but deep down he knows it’s a blatant lie. At least on his side.

Unlike you, who fell asleep right away, Harry spent about an hour lying in his bed wide awake, not able to think about anything else but your lips on his. He replayed the whole thing in his head about a million times, he was starting to feel ashamed of it, but he just couldn’t stop.

Your abrupt leaving left him puzzled and he thought long and hard about why you felt the need to run away. The only thing that made sense to him is that you regretted it the moment it happened, that it really did just happen in the heat of the moment so Harry thought it’s best to act like it didn’t even happen.

“Please don’t be an ass and just… talk to her. We both know we can never know for sure what a woman thinks about. You can’t just assume and think that your assumption is one hundred percent right.”

“I find it funny that you’re such an expert in this stuff, but you haven’t had a stable relationship since like, we finished college,” Harry scoffs as he takes the corner and starts driving down the street to Yara’s moms’ house.

“Me not having a relationship doesn’t mean that I’m not good at them. It’s a choice,” Niall smirks.

“Yeah, whatever.”

“But back to the topic, you wanted to kiss her, right?”

“I mean, yeah? It kinda threw me off as well, but it was… nice.”

“Please don’t refer to a kiss as nice again,” Niall gags, but Harry just chuckles at him. “A kiss is hot, passionate, pant tighteni—“

“Okay, that’s enough!” Harry cuts him, earning a cackle from him.

“Just talk to her, don’t be a pussy.”

“I really do need better friends,” Harry mumbles under his breath as he pulls up to the driveway.

You really didn’t feel like staying home alone in that big ass house so you invited yourself over for an early dinner to your mom’s. You haven’t been over since the little fiasco with Trevor so you thought it might be a good idea to spend some time with them. Trevor said they’ve been trying to keep the fighting down to the minimum and not let it turn into a screaming match, so your speech worked after all.

It’s past three o’clock when you leave, no sign of Harry or Izzy and you feel like they won’t be back for a while either, so you lock everything up and head out.

You have a genuinely good time. It’s obvious that your mom feels guilty about her past behavior and is trying to lure you into forgiving her, though you already did that. But you’re happy your little speech worked. At least Trevor can have his peace now.

After dinner your mom disappears in her room and then returns with a nicely wrapped box and you sigh, rolling your eyes.

“Mom, I told you I don’t need gifts.” You give her a look. Your birthday is coming up next week, but you were never the kind to celebrate. You never felt comfortable with all the attention and fuss birthdays come with, so you’ve always liked to keep it down. These past years you didn’t even ask for anything, though your parents never listened and this year doesn’t seem like an exception either.

“Oh hush. You can’t expect me not to celebrate my baby!” she shakes her head, sitting back to the dining table. “And besides, I didn’t pay a dollar for it,” she then adds and now you’re curious what she got you.

Removing the lid of the box you peek inside and your lips immediately part as you see the stack of polaroids inside.

“I know how much you like old photos and when we sold Grandma’s house back in August, I found these in my old room. I got a polaroid camera for graduation, just in time to take tons of pictures of you,” she explains with a soft chuckle as you start going through the pictures from when you were born and the next few years. Whenever you are done looking at a photo you hand it to Trevor so he can take a look at them too.

“Are you sure you don’t want to keep these, mom?” you ask glancing up at her over the stack.

“I took out a few for myself,” she admits with a sneaky smile. “You can have the rest, I know how much you love these stuff.”

“Thank you, mom,” you smile at her, hugging her from the side, feeling touched by this gift.

It’s nearing eight when you arrive back home, the lights are still up and if you had to guess you’d say that Harry is trying to tire Izzy out enough to put to bed, as usual. Walking in, your guess is proven right, the TV is on in the living room while Harry is sitting on the couch, Izzy all over him in her pink pajamas, playing around with his hair like she always does.

“Hi Y/N!” she calls out happily when she spots you.

“Hi Sunshine, did you have a good time today?” you ask with a soft smile.

“I did! And guess what!”

“What?”

“Yara invited me over for a sleepover!” she beams, clearly ecstatic about the invitation.

“That’s amazing!”

“What’s that?” she curiously asks pointing at the gift box in your hands. Harry turns to see you, his eyes falling on the box as well.

“Oh, it’s a gift I got from my mom,” you explain, stepping closer.

“Is it your birthday?” she questions, knitting her eyebrows together.

“No, not yet. But it will be next week,” you admit with a soft chuckle.

“Really? Are you having a birthday party?” she gasps, getting way too excited already. Harry eyes you without a word, holding Izzy by her hips so she is not losing her balance standing on the cushion of the couch.

“I’m not, sorry. I don’t like having birthday parties,” you pout at her apologetically.

“Oh, okay. Can I see what you got from your mom?”

“Izzy, don’t be nosy,” Harry warns her, but you just smile at the curious girl.

“Sure,” you nod, joining them on the couch. You sit on the opposite end than where Harry is, Izzy in the middle as she watches the box in awe. You set it down to the cushion and take the lid off, revealing the stack of photos.

“What are these?”

“They are called polaroids. They are old pictures, taken with a special camera that kind of prints the picture out right away,” you explain to her as she takes the first photo from the top, a picture of your mom holding you as a newborn. She was so young, practically a child herself, yet her pride was undeniable, it shone all over her face.  You spot Harry looking at the picture as well over Izzy’s shoulder, still keeping his silence.

“Who are these people?”

“That’s my mom and that’s me as a baby. And… this is my dad,” you hold up another photo that features your dad.

“They really were young when they had you,” Harry speaks up for the first time, surprised by the photos.

“Yeah, they were.”

“What are you going to do with them?” Izzy questions, dropping the photo back into the box as she leans back to lie on Harry’s chest.

“Not sure yet. I might make an album from them,” you shrug. “I really like polaroids, I love that they are one of a kind.”

Izzy nods, though you’re not sure she understood what you meant by that. Fidgeting with her fingers she pushes down a yawn and Harry takes that as a good sign.

“Alright, time for bed, Love. Say good night to Y/N.” He picks her up as he stands from the couch. Izzy waves at you smiling with tired eyes.

“Night-night, Y/N,” she singsongs as Harry carries her towards the stairs.

Putting the pictures back into the box you head into your bedroom too, feeling like the time when you and Harry talk about what happened yesterday will never come. It’s pretty clear that he doesn’t want to acknowledge it, so you’ll just let it slip. It happened just in the heat of the moment, didn’t mean a thing, you better forget about it.

After a speedy shower you are getting ready to just go to bed, read some and have a relaxing evening, something you didn’t have the luck to have the day before. But right as you’re about to make yourself comfortable in bed, there’s a knock on your door.

“Hey,” you breathe out as you open it and find Harry standing in the hallway.

“I hope you weren’t sleeping already.”

“No. Come on in,” you invite him inside and he walks in. As he awkwardly stops in the middle of the room you realize he hasn’t even been in here since you’ve moved in. He takes a look around, examining what you’ve done with the room and you feel thankful you decided to put your laundry away just yesterday, so no dirty underwear is littering the floor anywhere.

“How can I help you?” you ask with a soft smile.

“I, erm… I just wanted to clear some things,” he starts, clearly feeling nervous about the conversation and that makes the two of you for sure. Nodding you let him know that you’re waiting for him to carry on. “What happened yesterday…” he starts and your breath gets caught in your throat. “You were very emotional, a lot happened and it was a very confusing moment probably for the both of us. I really like working with you, I’m very happy with the way you’ve been taking care of Izzy and I would hate to ruin it with anything.”

You can feel your stomach dropping even though you were bracing yourself for this version of the situation. It was very likely that Harry would want to keep things professional, like before, but it still makes you feel like shit.

“I’m sorry for stepping over some boundaries, but I really hope that… we can put it behind us and that we can move on.”

He is using his business tone. It’s the same tone he used with Sarah and his assistants and now he is using it to talk about the kiss that happened between the two of you.

“Sure,” you answer quietly nodding. “Moving on sounds… great,” you nod, forcing a smile to your face, but it couldn’t be more fake.

Harry nods as he runs his tongue over his lips, looking around a little awkwardly now that it’s been discussed.

“Alright, then… good night, Y/N,” he nods in your way before heading towards the door.

“Good night, Harry,” you mumble after him as he walks out and closes the door behind him.

As soon as you are on your own, you let out a shaky breath, falling to your bed, lips trembling as you try to even make out what you’re feeling. Because part of you is glad he didn’t make a fuss about it and you didn’t lose your job, that’s great news. But another part, which is vehemently bigger than the first one is upset and sad and… disappointed?

You were hoping it meant something for him, you wanted him to want it, to feel the same craving for you as you feel towards him, because you haven’t really stopped thinking about what his lips felt like against yours, what it was like when his fingers dug into your thigh, how it sent a shiver down your spine when his tongue met yours.

But this conversation just made it awfully clear that he wants nothing to do with you. And it hurts probably more than it should.

 Harry doesn’t get too far from your door when he feels the all too familiar pain in his chest he has been forced to live with these past over three years. It’s like something is gripping his heart and lungs in his chest so tight, even breathing is a hard task.

Rushing into his bedroom he closes the door behind him and slides down to the floor as the tears flood from his eyes. The past twenty-four hours have been rough on him, the guilt has been growing immensely since he let himself slip and give in for his desires and eventually kiss you.

It’s not that he didn’t want it. Because he’d be lying if he said it meant nothing to him and that he hasn’t been craving it these past weeks.

But his guilt, this evil little voice in the back of his head wouldn’t let him enjoy it even the slightest.

How dare you kiss another woman after your wife? Are you insane? You don’t deserve to feel this way with anyone else. Not when you were the reason your wife ended up dead!

Heartbreaking sobs escape from his chest as he pushes himself up from the floor and heads into the bathroom. He strips out of his clothes leaving them all in a pile on the marble tiled floor before he steps into the shower and lets the hot water pour down on him, almost burning his skin, but he doesn’t change the temperature, as if he was trying to punish himself. His salty tears mix with the water as he stands still, chest heaving as his vivid memories from that night come crashing down on him all at once.

“Are you giving me the silent treatment now? Really?” Harry sighed at his wife when she failed to answer his question about the whereabouts of his sweatpants. Maggie sat on the bed with the recent maternity book she’d been reading these past days, not even paying her husband a look at his question.

“Mags, for fuck’s sake, I’m not in the mood to play this game right now,” Harry sighed in defeat. Maggie looked up at him, closed the book slowly and put it aside to the bedside table.

“So the question of expanding our family is just a game to you?” she asked calmly, but her anger and disappointment in her husband was soaking through her tone.

“You know that’s not what I’m talking about.”

“No, you are not talking about anything, because you refuse to have a fucking conversation with me!” she retorted, letting all her bottled up anger out that’d been boiling inside her.

“I already told you that I can’t think about having another baby right now. Izzy is only six, I’m in the middle of a huge project, I don’t have the capacity to think about having another baby, Maggie. I thought I made it clear, why are you still onto me then?”

“Because it’s not something we can put aside for too long! I don’t want to have another baby when I’m in my mid-thirties, but if we go with your plan, we won’t even have another one!” Maggie jumped to her feet, pacing the floor back and forth next to their bed as Harry stood with his hands on his hips, getting irritated that they were fighting over the same thing again.

“I never said we can’t have another baby, but why can’t we wait a little? When Izzy is older and more independent? Do you have any idea how hard it is to take care of a baby and a toddler? It’s a fucking nightmare!” Harry growled rolling his eyes.

“So our family is just a pain in the ass for you?” Maggie questioned, folding her arms on her chest and she was really getting on Harry’s nerves, twisting his words completely.

“That’s not what I said!” he snapped. “All I’m asking for is you to be a little patient and give me some time!”

“I don’t have time, Harry! I want it as soon as possible!”

“Why are you so fucking difficult?” Harry groaned, running his hands through his hair. “Why can’t you wait just… one year at least? Is that too much to ask?”

“And is it too much to ask to focus on your family? We are supposed to come first!” she turned it back around and Harry was not having the dirty games she was playing, putting all the blame on him when she could have been a little more understanding as well. He was feeling like his opinion was put aside and didn’t matter at all.

“You do come first, you don’t have the right to question that.” Harry pointed at Maggie, his blood practically boiling at this point.

“Then why do I feel like work is always more important to you?”

“What are you talking about? You know I’m home as much as I can, but we still need the fucking money, Maggie! Or how do you plan on paying the bills of this fucking mansion?!”

“I don’t need a mansion! I just need my family and that’s all!” she argued, but Harry rolled his eyes at her.

“Well you seem to enjoy this mansion a lot when you sit by the pool and watch movies in the fucking movie theater in your own home!” he snapped back feistily. “Stop acting like I don’t do shit for our family when I work my ass off to provide the best possible life. And all I’m asking for in return is some fucking time before we bring another baby into the picture!”

“You are so fucking unbelievable,” Maggie shook her head as she marched past him, walking away from the fight that just grinded his gears even more.

Just as Harry was about to go after her, he heard the faint crying through the baby monitor. Groaning he headed into Izzy’s room and as he took her out of her crib, he heard the front door open and shut.

“Aw, baby, I’m sorry, did we wake you up?” he cooed, hugging the crying little girl to his chest who clung onto him immediately. Even at such a young age, Izzy was already a daddy’s little girl.

Soon her cries died down to just little hiccups as Harry soothed her, patting her bum and back gently as he moved around the room. Holding Izzy in one arm he grabbed his phone with his free hand and typed a message to his wife.

Harry: Where did you go?!

Maggie: I’m going over to my sister’s. Don’t wait up, might get home late.

Harry couldn’t help but roll his eyes. She called him out for running away from the conversation, but when they were finally talking about it she just decided to disappear when it didn’t head in the direction she wanted, seeking comfort at her sister, as always.

He managed to lull Izzy back to sleep, putting her back to her crib before going back to the bedroom. As time passed by and he calmed down more and more he wished Maggie was home so they could talk about it without jumping at each other’s throat. There had to be a compromising way to solve the situation that would be fine for the both of them.

Harry: Please come home and let’s talk about it.

Maggie: So you can bite my head off again?!

Harry: Mags, please. You have to understand my point of view too!

Maggie: I understand it, but I don’t agree with it. And you don’t seem to understand mine…

Harry: I do, but there are more things to consider. Please come home, I don’t want to have this conversation over the phone!

Maggie: Okay, I’m heading home now.

Harry put his phone down to the nightstand with a long sigh, already tired from everything that happened that day and he knew this conversation would be a hard one too, but they needed to be on the same page when it came to their family.

It was late getting late and Harry grew a little more restless with each passing moment. Paisley, Maggie’s sister lived about thirty minutes away from them and it’d been forty minutes since she sent her last text. At first he figured she maybe stayed and talked for a little longer with Paisley, or stopped for some fast food which he knew she liked so much whenever she was upset, but when an entire hour passed by he was getting worried.

He kept sending her texts that didn’t even get delivered and when he tried to call it went straight to her voicemail. Harry was losing his shit so he decided to call Paisley to see if she knew anything about her.

“She hasn’t arrived home yet?” she asked, clearly surprised.

“No, and she is not answering my calls and texts. When did she leave from yours?”

“A long time ago. Almost right away when you texted her to go home.”

“Fuck,” Harry breathed out, anxiously pacing the floor as he held the phone to his ear. “Okay, can you please call your parents in case she went there for whatever reason? I’ll try her friends.”

“Yeah, sure. Let me know if you got a hold of her,” Paisley told him before they ended the call.

Harry was scrolling through his contacts, trying to decide who Maggie would go to first in this situation and just as he was about to call the first person, his phone started ringing with an unknown number.

“Hello?” he answered the call unsurely, his heart beating fast in his chest as he stood in the middle of the room.

“Mr. Harry Styles?” a male voice asked on the other end.

“Yes, it’s me. Who am I speaking to?”

“I’m Officer Field speaking. You were listed as the emergency contact for your wife, Margaret Linn Styles.”

Blood rushed out of Harry’s face faster than he could even process what was happening. He stood completely frozen, his hands were getting clammy as he started sweating as if he just ran the marathon.

“What happened?” he asked weakly, barely even finding his own voice.

“Mr. Styles, I have bad news…”

Harry makes his way down to the entertainment room, walking like a zombie, only thinking about the bottle of vodka that sits in the minibar down there. Following his skin burning shower he tried to go to bed, but his head was starting to spin from everything that’s been swirling in his mind and he knew he wouldn’t be able to stop it if he didn’t numb himself somehow. Unfortunately, his only way of doing it has been drinking, nothing seemed to help him the way alcohol did and though he knew he should never solve any of his problems with drinking, he still couldn’t help himself sometimes. When the pain was growing immensely, taking over his whole body, he chose the easiest way to get rid of the guilt or at least stop himself from… feeling.

Grabbing the bottle from the mini fridge he snatches himself a glass as well, not drinking straight from the bottle at least, and plopping himself down to the couch he pours a generous glass, drinking it without any chaser.

He winces as the alcohol burns down his throat, but at least it’s a different kind of pain, that takes the focus away from the one he is feeling in his chest.

One glass chases the other and since he is not particularly used to the heavy drinking, he is more like the ‘let’s nurse this pint for an hour’ type of guy, the raw vodka kicks in pretty quickly.

 But he is not the only one who can’t fall asleep tonight.

You tried everything in your power to end your misery and finally fall asleep, but your mind and body was plotting against you and made you toss and turn until you couldn’t take it any longer. Making a good cup of tea seemed like a good idea, so you headed down the kitchen.

As you round the corner after the stairs and you’re about to walk into the kitchen, you notice how the lights are on down in the entertainment room. You stop in your tracks and try to think back if anyone was there before you went upstairs, but you don’t think it was the case.

You figure since there are only two adults living in the house, it must be Harry down there and right now, facing him doesn’t sound like a good idea, so you decide to leave him be, but that’s when you hear the voice of some kind of glass breaking, followed by a heavy accented cursing and it changes your mind right away.

“Harry?” you softly call out as you walk down the stairs, not sure what to expect down there. He is crouching down, his back in your direction as he is trying to get the pieces of the broken glass up from the floor, but he is too disoriented to succeed in the task and it’s obvious that an injury is deemed to happen sooner or later.

“Harry, you’re gonna cut yourself!” you warn him, and walking over to him you pull him up from his squatting position and when he looks at you is when you realize that he is drunk out of his mind.

“Y/N, oh shit, did I—Did I wake you up?” he slurs, knitting his eyebrows together as he tries to focus his vision on you.

“You didn’t, but let me just—Why don’t you sit down for a moment while I clean this up, huh?” you suggest, pulling him towards the couch, making him sit. He falls to the cushion like dead weight, letting out a tired sigh while you rush to get a broom and a dustpan to get rid of the broken glass on the floor as fast as possible before someone cuts themselves.

“I’m so sorry, Y/N,” he breathes out closing his eyes.

“It’s okay. I’ll just clean it up quickly,” you assure him, getting down to business.

“Not about the g-glass. Well, about that as well…”

“Then why are you sorry?” you ask, as you sweep the shards onto the dustpan and throw them into the closest trashcan.

“About being… a pain in the ass,” he hiccups.

“You are not a pain in the ass,” you chuckle softly as you sit beside him.

“I am. I fucked things up,” he nods with a painful expression all over his handsome face.

“What do you mean?” You know you shouldn’t make him talk in this state, but you can’t help your curiosity. It seems like drunkenness makes his tongue run wild and you are desperate for the tiniest crumble of information about what’s going on in his head.

“I just… I kissed you,” he breathes out, his eyes popping open, but he is staring at the ceiling, not you.

“And?” you ask, trying to act cool, though your pulse is rapidly increasing.

“And I shouldn’t have done that.”

“Oh.” You lick your lips and try not to show how much that hurt. But even drunk, Harry notices the disappointment in your tone. His glassy eyes snap over to you and his face falls right away.

“That’s not how I mean it!” he gasps, reaching for your hand and you’re surprised by the sudden physical touch, but it feels kind of nice, so you let him hold your hand between his arm palms. “It’s not like I didn’t enjoy it, because fucking hell, it was amazing!” he bluntly tells you and you can already feel the heat crawling up your neck.

“Really?”

“Yes!”

“Then why did you tell me all of that in my room just earlier now?”

Harry pulls his hands back and moves his arms across his face, covering his eyes as he slides down the couch, his legs spreading out in front of him. He lets out a shaky whimper and seeing him like this worries you a lot. Harry is always in control, he has never let him fall apart like this before.

“Because… I don’t deserve to feel this way,” he confesses, confusing you even more. What is he talking about?

“Why wouldn’t you?”

He shakes his head under his arms, biting into his bottom lip as he inhales deeply, like he is trying to keep something inside, something you shouldn’t know about, but now you are desperate to find it out.

“I’m a fucking mess,” he breathes out, letting his arms fall to his sides, but he keeps his eyes closed, shutting you out in a way. “I don’t deserve to have these feelings,” he repeats again and it appears he is more likely talking to himself, rather than to you.

“Harry, what are you talking about?”

“I can’t tell you. I can’t tell you, because if I did, you’d never be able to look at me again.”

Now he is crying. Tears are rolling down his cheeks and his lips are trembling and you’ve never seen him in such a vulnerable state and quite frankly, it scares you. You knew him to be a strong and stable man, but now he resembles a frightened little boy, so lost in this big world.

“I’m pretty sure it’s not that bad, Harry.”

“It is,” he winces, as if it’s causing him physical pain to even talk about it.

“Harry…” You breathe out and moving closer you place a hand on his knee, giving it a gentle, reassuring squeeze. He turns to face you, his eyes all watered and glistening, he looks so heartbroken, it almost pains you as well.

“Promise me you won’t see me as a monster,” he whispers.

“I-I promise,” you nod, already bearing yourself for the worst, judging from the look on his face.

Taking a deep breath he looks around, as if he is making sure no one else is listening. Then his eyes fall down to his hands in his lap, he fidgets with his fingers, his tongue running along his pink lips before he takes a deep breath and speaks up again.

“Maggie’s death… It was all my fault. I fucking… killed my own wife.”

His voice dies down at the end of the sentence, staring into the void, completely zoned out as you sit beside him, shocked at his words. This was not exactly what you were expecting him to say. Harry starts sobbing again, the hot tears running down his cheeks as he starts crying and panic sets in you. He is so out of his own world, you have no idea what’s happening to him. Rushing over to the mini fridge, you grab a water for him, thinking it might help him at least after all the alcohol he has consumed.

“Here, drink some water,” you softly tell him, taking the cap off as you hand him the bottle. He takes it with a shaky hand and raising it to his trembling lips he takes a few small sips. “Harry, what do you mean it was your fault?” you ask, knowing well you probably shouldn’t push it, but you can’t just ignore what he said.

“Exactly what I said,” he sobs shaking his head vigorously. “It was all my fault, I was a fucking coward and that’s why she died! I could have stopped her! I should have gone after her!”

He is not answering you, not entirely. He is speaking thoughts that have been planted in his head a long time ago and they seem to be on repeat whenever he is feeling down. As much as you want to get more details out of him, he needs to rest, especially because he is working in the morning.

“Come on, let’s get you to bed, H,” you tell him as you stand up and reach out for him to help him to his unsteady feet. It turns out to be a little harder than you expected, but you manage to get him up from his sitting position, and throwing one of his arms over your shoulders you start to walk him up towards his bedroom.

“You fucking hate me now, don’t you?” he slurs, his other hand reaching out towards the wall to steady himself a little more.

“I don’t hate you, Harry.”

“But you think I’m a monster, right?”

“I’m not sure I know enough to think anything about you. This is a conversation we should have when you’re sober,” you suggest and he huffs.

“M’sorry for getting drunk in the middle of the night.”

“It’s alright. But I think you���ll have a mean headache in the morning,” you tease him as you finally reach the upstairs and head down the hallway towards his room.

“You’re a fucking angel, Y/N. You know that?” He just keeps talking and talking and you find it funny how different he is from his reserved and quiet self in this state.

“Am I?”

“Yeah. You are. You are so good to my daughter and to me as well… I really don’t get why your fucker ex cheated on you,” he huffs and you can’t help the smile that tugs on your lips. “What was his name? Kyle?”

“Keith,” you correct him.

“That fucker, Keith!” he spats making you laugh as you push his bedroom’s door open and walk him inside finally. “I bet he had a small dick.”

“Why does that matter,” you chuckle, making him sit on the edge of the bed.

“Because guys with small dicks are always out of touch with themselves. They think they are just better than everyone for some reason.”

“Do you have any scientific research to prove that?” you tease him as you push him down, tugging him under the covers, like a little kid.

“No, I just… know shit,” he sighs, his eyes falling closed the moment his head rests on the pillow.

“Alright. You can tell me more about what else you know when you’re sober. Now get some sleep, because you have work in the morning.”

You make sure he lies on his side as he hums his response. Reaching down you brush his messy curls out of his forehead as he breathes out harshly through his nose, probably about to fall asleep any moment.

Tapping on the screen of his phone on the nightstand you make sure that he has set up his alarm and you see the little alarm clock icon at the top bar so you are just about to walk out when you turn back around.

Seeing how he pushed so many things down inside of him, you’re not convinced he’ll be willing to give you the answers you are looking for. You’re afraid he might talk himself out and give you some kind of bullshit answer, so reaching for his phone you sneakily take his thumb and open the device, all whilst he doesn’t even move an inch.

Scrolling through his contacts you find Niall’s number and send it over to yourself before deleting the message so you leave no trail behind. You set the phone back to his nightstand and head out finally, going to bed as well, right after sending Niall a quick message.

Y/N: Hi! It’s Y/N, I got your number from Harry’s phone. Can you come by sometime tomorrow? I need to talk to you about something.

When you come down in the morning it’s pretty obvious that even though Harry had his alarm on, he snoozed one too many times and now he is in a rush, trying to get everything done and leave on time.

“Good morning,” you greet him and Izzy upon walking into the kitchen. Harry’s head snaps up from the half-made breakfast in front of him and judging by his expression, he more or less remembers what happened last night. “Rough morning?” you ask teasing him to ease the tension.

“Uh, yeah. Woke up a little late,” he nods, finishing up Izzy’s sandwich just the way she likes, without the crust on before handing it over to her. Izzy grabs the plate and marches over to the dining table, quietly munching on her food while Harry quickly tries to make himself a coffee, but he is a hot mess, still in his night clothes when he is supposed to leave in about ten minutes.

“I’ll make you the coffee, go and get changed,” you offer, taking over the machine.

“Oh, thank you,” he nods and for a change, he doesn’t try to argue with you, he just disappears upstairs.

You make his coffee just as he likes and leave it on the counter for him before joining Izzy at the table with your own breakfast. She is babbling about how excited she is for her piano lesson today, because she’s been practicing a lot lately. When Harry appears again he is dressed for work, but still looks a little disoriented.

“Hey,” you softly say as you join him in the kitchen.

“Hey, thank you for the coffee,” he nods, moving around the kitchen.

“No problem. How are you feeling?” you ask, hoping you’re not crossing any boundaries. Harry opens his mouth to answer, but then closes, probably not sure how much he should share, though he didn’t have too much problem with that last night.

“I’m… A little hangover, but I’m… fine,” he nods shortly. “Y/N, about last night, I—“

“We can talk about it later, okay? Don’t stress about it.” You give him a reassuring smile and you can tell he is sort of relieved he doesn’t have to have this conversation right in this moment.

“Thank you.”

“No worries. And I’ll clean up in the kitchen, don’t be late,” you smile at him warmly. You can tell he wants to protest, but he also knows he is running late so he doesn’t have much choice.

“Thank you, I’ll… see you later.”

Storming over to Izzy he presses a kiss to her forehead before grabbing all his stuff and leaving.

Niall texts you back not long after breakfast that he is free to drop by when Izzy is having her piano lesson. You carry on with the morning as usual, trying your best not to dwell on everything that happened last night.

Just as Rosaline and Izzy get settled for the lesson you hear a car pulling up outside and a few moments later the doorbell rings through the house.

“Let’s get one thing straight, is it a booty call?” Niall questions right away as you let him inside.

“It’s good to see you again,” you chuckle, shaking your head at him.

“So no sex is gonna be involved?” he smirks and you know he is just teasing you.

“No, sorry to disappoint.”

“Oh, you can never disappoint me, darling,” he winks at you before walking into the kitchen to serve himself a drink. “So why did you need to see me so desperately?”

“Well, I know I shouldn’t be discussing this with you first, but I feel like I need to know some basic information that Harry might not give me so I thought you could help me out.” Niall nods as he pours himself some soda and joins you at the kitchen island, sitting on the stool next to you. “I uhh—I need to ask how much Harry shared with you about… about me—and, um what—“

“Save the stuttering, I know you two kissed,” Niall cuts you off and you breathe out in relief that you don’t have to be the one breaking him the news.

“Oh, okay,” you nod with an awkward smile. “Yeah, so that happened. And last night he and I had this conversation how we should just keep our relationship professional and all that. We both went our own way but then later I found Harry down in the entertainment room, drunk and basically having a meltdown of some sort.”

“How drunk was he?” Niall asks, knitting his eyebrows together.

“Pretty drunk. He broke a glass and he was… crying and talking about a lot of stuff.” Niall takes your words in as he inhales deeply, just nodding for you to continue. “He started telling me how sorry he was for fucking things up and he was a mess, like a huge fucking mess. Then he told me about how he shouldn’t be feeling the way he does, because he doesn’t deserve it…”

“Jesus…” Niall shakes his head, probably already knowing where this is heading.

“And then he told me that his wife’s death was his fault. That was… pretty intense.”

“I can imagine.”

“I know I have to talk to him about it, but I’m really afraid he might shake it off, but it seems like he is having some serious issues and I wouldn’t want things to get out of hands. That’s why I thought I would talk to you, maybe you know what to do or how to approach him with such a sensitive subject.”

“Yeah, I get it. It’s nice of you for being so considerate,” Niall nods, scratching his chin. “Alright, I’ll tell you what I know, but please also let him tell you if he decides to share it with you.” You nod and turn all your attention to him. “I didn’t find this out until about two months after Maggie’s death, but apparently, the night she died they had a fight. Maggie had been nagging Harry to have another baby, but he wanted to wait a little longer, until Izzy is older so they don’t have two babies at the same time. Harry said they had another big fight about it, said some pretty nasty things to each other before Maggie just stormed out to go over to her sister’s. She made it there, but… never made it back home.”

A shiver runs down your spine at the thought of how devastating it must have been, losing your partner after an intense fight without ever making up.

“Understandably, Harry completely lost his shit. For weeks he was barely functioning and we all knew he was grieving, but we didn’t know that he was blaming himself for what happened. When he wasn’t getting any better we somehow convinced him to go to therapy which luckily helped him immensely, but he stopped going a while ago. I thought he got things straight in his head about this whole Maggie situation, but I guess he is still hung up on that.”

“What about the drinking, did that happen a lot?”

“Not that I know of. I mean, yeah, he got wasted quite a few times, but only at the beginning. I don’t think you should be afraid that he might turn into an alcoholic. I think he is just really struggling right now because of the conflict he is having because of you.”

“Because of me?”

“Yeah, he is clearly very confused about his feelings for you and he has convinced himself he shouldn’t feel this way towards anyone ever, but then you came,” he chuckles softly giving you a knowing look.

“Niall, I don’t know what I’m supposed to do,” you breathe out, worry and fear slowly taking over your judgment.

“First and foremost just… be patient with him, okay? This is genuinely the first time he has taken an interest in anyone since Maggie and I think he has already taken some big steps, which is a good sign. Try to talk to him and be open, but don’t push him. I know it can be really annoying when he keeps things, but let him tell you everything at his own pace.”

You nod, understanding the importance of not rushing Harry into anything. Just because you want to get over the awkwardness of the current situation, you can’t push him over his own boundaries.

“Okay, I’ll try to do that,” you nod taking a deep breath. “Thank you, Niall.”

“Oh, and don’t let him give you the ‘you work for me, we shouldn’t be doing this’ bullshit alright? He’ll try to make it out to be some kind of business, but it’s not. He needs to get himself out there and I genuinely think you’re the right person to help him with that.”

His words touch you and you’re not even sure how to react. Niall is clearly someone who stands close to Harry and if he thinks that you and him should give it a try, that must mean something. You can only hope that Harry will come around and think the same at one point.

Izzy gets a little fussy by the end of the day and it takes a lot of persuading to get her to bed in the evening. Harry arrived back home on his usual time and because it’s been such a hot day outside, he took her out to the pool. The problem with that is that Izzy never wants to get out of the water, so when Harry said it’s time for dinner she threw a bit of a tantrum as Harry brought her inside and her mood didn’t get any better later either.

You spent most of your night in the living room just watching TV and working on your laptop, updating your schedule for the upcoming weeks and doing some editing. Harry stays upstairs with Izzy for a long time when her bedtime comes and you figure she is still a little moody, but then you eventually hear his footsteps approaching. Harry pads his way into the living room and joins you on the couch. When you glance over at him you know he is trying to find a way to start the conversation you both know you need to have, so you put your laptop aside and turn your attention towards him.

“Y/N, I’m really sorry about last night. I’m honestly so terribly ashamed you had to… see me like that,” he starts, clearly nervous to bring it all up.

“It’s fine, happens to everyone,” you assure him and it’s the genuine truth.

“It’s not a regular occurrence, really. I usually know my limits and try to stay within them. I’m really sorry for making you uncomfortable.”

“Harry, don’t worry about it,” you tell him again with a warm smile. “We can get past it. I think what we really should talk about is… what you said. Do you remember what we talked about?” you carefully ask.

“I do…” he nods, awkward diverting his eyes away from you. “I’m sorry I told you all that in that state, I didn’t… I didn’t mean to just pour it all on you so suddenly.”

“It’s alright.” “No, it’s not,” he protests shaking his head. “I dropped a bomb on you because I couldn’t deal with my own problems the right way, and it’s not okay. So please, just… accept my apology.”

“Okay, I accept it,” you nod.

“And about the whole thing with… What I told you about Maggie…”

“Just know that you don’t have to talk about it now if you don’t want to. I’m happy to listen whenever you are ready to, but I’m not trying to push you.”

“I know and thank you for that, but I feel like… I owe you an explanation,” he admits and you nod, happy that he is willing to talk instead of closing himself off entirely. “The day Maggie died, we got into this huge fight and she ran off to her sister. It was… a whole mess, we both said things we clearly didn’t mean and I texted her, tried to get her to come home so we could talk things out. That’s when… she was on her way home when it happened and… I still feel like it was my fault.” His voice dies down at the end, just like it did last night when he was talking about her. It clearly left a deep scar on him that’s still not entirely healed and you can’t blame him.

“Everyone keeps telling me that it wasn’t, that it was just all one big coincidence, but all I can think about is that she would still be here if we didn’t get into the fight and I didn’t piss her off so much she felt the need to leave.”

“There was no way for you to see what would happen, Harry. It’s not like you did it on purpose, you had no power over the drunk driver or where Maggie chose to drive home. It really was a coincidence.”

“I know, I mean… I understand, but somehow, my mind keeps telling me that it was my fault.”

“Have you thought about… getting professional help?” you ask, trying to be polite and cautious on the topic.

“Actually, I just called my therapist today to see if… she can fit me in for some sessions,” he admits and you’re surprised at how great he is dealing with the matter. “I feel like I might need some guidance again, before things get out of my hands.”

“That’s great! It really is good to go a bit ahead of problems.”

“Yeah. About us…” he exhales nervously, his eyes meeting yours and you can tell this is the part that’s got him the most anxious. You take this as your queue to take over the conversation.

“Harry, I’m going to be honest with you,” you start and he nods, chewing on his bottom lip. “I… I have feelings for you. You haven’t been the only one making realizations,” you add with a soft chuckle, that brings a smile to his lips as well. “I know that the situation is not quite ideal, but it’s not impossible. But I just want you to be honest with me, do you have feelings for me?”

The conflict is clearer than daylight in his eyes as he is trying to figure out what to say and you really hope he isn’t gonna try to mask his feelings.

“I do,” he then admits and it’s like a giant rock has been lifted off your chest and shoulders. “It’s just… I’m not sure how to deal with it.”

“That’s alright,” you tell him. “Let’s just… take it slow. We’re not in a rush, we obviously have a lot to figure out and that’s completely fine. The pace is completely up to you, I know that you need to get a lot of things straight in your head and I can wait, okay? I’m not going anywhere, I really like where we are now and… I just hope that we can move this forward whenever you feel comfortable with it.”

Harry stares back at you for a moment like you’re some alien creature. Like what you just said wasn’t normal or even human and that’s quite heartbreaking, because somewhere along the way he managed to convince himself that he is not worthy of the most basic decency.

“I-I can’t ask you to wait around while I figure my shit out, that’s not—“

“You’re not asking me, Harry,” you smile at him softly. “This is my decision.”

His eyes are shifting between yours and he is most likely looking for any sign of doubt or qualm, but there’s none, you genuinely meant everything you said.

“So, where does this leave us?” he then asks and you shrug your shoulders.

“Everything goes on like it used to and… whenever you are ready to take a step, just… let me know.”

You can tell he is filled with questions, but he just nods with a weak smile and leaves it at that. This will be a bumpy ride, but at least you are more or less on the same page now.

You haven’t been a big fan of birthday celebrations. You just never understood the big fuss about it, throwing a party for surviving another year? Seems a little weird. This is why you never treated this day any different.

The morning starts off as usual, only that you wake up to a few texts from friends and family, wishing you a happy birthday. Your mom has sent you a whole damn paragraph about how you made her life complete and it wouldn’t be the same without you in it. She does that every time, gets a little too sentimental about it, but you guess it’s because it reminds her of getting old herself as well, which is a sensitive topic in her book these days.

It’s a Sunday, so a day off for you. Coming downstairs you find Izzy and Harry sitting at the dining table, already having their breakfast as usual, but when she sees you, she jumps in her seat in excitement.

“Good morning, Y/N!” she beams with a wide smile, buzzing more than she usually does.

“Morning, Sunshine. Slept well?” you ask as you pour yourself some cereal and join them at the table. Izzy nods and then peeks at her father as if she is trying to hide something with him from you.

“Daddy, can we do it now?” she asks in a whisper, but it’s not quiet enough for you to not hear it.

Your eyes lock with Harry’s over the table and the butterflies in your stomach start dancing around right away when you see the tiny smirk tugging on his lips.

It’s been almost an entire week since your conversation with him and things finally seem to get in place for now. Harry had his first session with his therapist on Wednesday and though you can tell he is still trying to find his own boundaries, he doesn’t worry as much about the situation as he probably did before. He isn’t walking on eggshells around you, unsure how to act. More or less it’s the same as it was before the kiss, but there are tiny little things that still make it different. Stolen glances, lingering touches and sweet smiles are making your days more colorful now and it’s gotten you all giddy and… happy.

“What are you two plotting, huh?” you ask, pointing at them with your spoon before digging into the cereal. Izzy glances at Harry one last time and when he nods shortly, she turns to you and throws her arms in the air.

“Happy birthday, Y/N!” she cheers as Harry reaches over to the chair next to him and pulls up a box from under the table, handing it over to Izzy so she could give it to you. “This is for you!”

“You shouldn’t have gotten me anything!” you gasp, truly surprised by the gift. You were not expecting it at all.

“It’s not a birthday without gifts!” she giggles excitedly as she hands the box over. You push your cereal bowl to the side and set the gift to the table in front of you. “Open it!” she urges you, her little hands curled into fists as she watches your every move, as if it was her who just got a present.

Your eyes meet Harry’s green ones over the table once more and he is watching you with a small smile, probably enjoying that he could surprise you.

You pull on the bow on the top and then carefully take the wrapping paper off until the box is revealed underneath and you gas as soon as you realize what this is.

“Oh my God!” you breathe out in disbelief as you take a better look at the gift. Harry didn’t just get you something, he actually listened to what you were saying and remembered that you’re a big fan of oldschool cameras and you have a special love for polaroids. And now, in front of you in the box is your very own polaroid camera, something you’ve been really wanting to buy for yourself for a long time, but you just never got around to actually do it.

“Do you like it? Daddy said you’d really like it!” Izzy asks with big eyes, watching your reaction.

“Oh, I love it!” you breathe out, feeling all mushy and melted from the gesture. Izzy climbs over to your lap, hugging your neck. You wrap your arms around her in a bone crushing hug and you’re so thankful for having them both in your life.

Izzy sits on your lap as you get the camera out of the box and figure out how to work it. She then hops off your lap and poses for the first ever picture taken with your new favorite camera.

“But it’s blank!” she furrows her eyebrows when the photo comes out.

“Because you have to wait for it to develop. It’ll show up in a few minutes,” you smile, setting the photo down on the table.

Izzy sits in her seat, excitedly waiting for the photo to develop and in the meanwhile you join Harry in the kitchen where he is washing the dishes. He spots you and turns the tap off, turning to face you as he dries his hands off.

“You shouldn’t have gotten me anything,” you tell him softly, but really feel touched by the gesture.

“No, but I wanted to. Do you really like it?”

“I love it!” you chuckle in disbelief. How could he think you wouldn’t like it?!

You move forward, aiming for a hug out of instinct but then stop yourself, not wanting to cross any boundaries, but Harry notices the motion and for your surprise, he wraps you in a warm hug on his own. You melt against his hard chest, your nose buried into his shoulder as your arms circle around his waist.

When you lean back, you both keep your arms around each other, eyes meeting and you realize just how close you are to each other. Without even knowing, your gaze flickers down to his lips and you’re dying to kiss him, to feel them again, but you don’t move, wanting to keep your word about letting him set the pace.

But what you didn’t expect is Harry leaning down and capturing your lips in a sweet, innocent kiss. It’s so different from the last time, that was a hot mess, but this one… this is light as a feather but still makes your stomach somersault as you taste his lips, cupping his face in your hands.

“Daddy! I’m thirsty!” Izzy calls out from outside and it kind of ends the moment. Harry pulls back and when you look at him you see that his eyes are still closed. They flutter open a moment later, finding your gaze and you look for any kind of regret or fear in them, but they are nothing but shiny.

“Just a moment, baby!” he answers her, a small smile tugging on his lips as he leans down and pecks the corner of your mouth again before his hands fall from your waist. “Happy birthday, Y/N,” he breathes out before grabbing a bottled water and heading back to Izzy.

You bring your fingertips to your tingling lips as you take a moment to really process what just happened and you can’t push down the smile that spreads across your face. Harry finally took the first step and now you can’t wait to see what’s coming next.

Thank you for reading, please like and reblog if you enjoyed it!

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[nothoughtsonlynat]

Late Night Baking

A/N: Idk what this is. I was bored.

Warnings: one swear; just fluff

“Nat”

“Natty”

“Tasha”

“Hm? What’s the matter, baby?”

“I can’t sleep.”

“And you had to wake me up to suffer with you? What time is it?”

“Ummm…. about 2:30…”

She groans, muffling it by shoving her face into her pillow. “You woke me up at 2 a.m.? I love you, I do, but I just might smother you with a pillow.”

“You would never. You wanna bake cupcakes?”

She turns her head to look at you and practically whines as she speaks. “Cupcakes? At two in the morning?”

“Mhm. You said you don’t know how to bake. I’ll teach you.”

She lets out a soft sigh and for a brief moment, you think she might be plotting your murder. “Alright. I’m not going back to sleep now anyway.”

And that’s how you ended up in the main kitchen at three in the morning, covered in cupcake batter with a bowl of flour sitting on top of your head. Your jaw hangs open as you wipe the flour from your eyes. Natasha is laughing so hard that she’s crying, and you’re attempting to keep the smile it causes at bay.

“You did not just do that, Romanoff.”

“Oh, but I did, sweetheart.”

You take the mixing bowl off your head and set it on the counter, blowing the flour away from your mouth. That only makes her laugh harder.

“Aw, c’mon. You look adorable like this,” she jokes.

You don’t answer, opting instead to arch an eyebrow and reach into the bag of flour. Her laughter stops instantly and her expression morphs into one of deadly resolve.

“No. Don’t even think about it, Y/N.” She backs away as a sinister smirk flashes across your face. You dash forward and she runs around the center island. You chase her around it several times before sliding across the top and cutting her off. You throw the flour at her face and tackle her in a bear hug before she has a chance to react.

“Asshole! I’m gonna get you back for that.”

“Trust me, I know. However, I have thought it through and decided that my actions were definitely worth their impending consequences.” You pull away to place a small kiss on the tip of her flour-coated nose.

“You’re such a dork.”

“Chicks dig that,” you state with confidence.

“You keep telling yourself that, baby.”

“Whatever. I don’t need chicks to dig it, as long as you dig something about me,” you say softly as you lean against her and wipe the flour from both your faces.

“Was that supposed to be romantic?”

“Oh, shut up. I’m trying here, Tasha. Words are not my thing.”

You dance with the love of your life in the messy kitchen until the timer goes off. After the cupcakes have been chilled, you and Natasha frost them, although more frosting goes in your mouth than on the cakes. And when you each take a big bite and immediately spit out the horrendous desserts, it doesn’t really matter, because you might be a little sleep deprived tomorrow, but right now you’re standing between Natasha’s legs as she sits on the counter. A horrible grimace crosses her face as the charred taste lingers in her mouth, and it makes you smile, despite the gag-worthy flavors on your tongue and the wasted ingredients spread across the counters. She looks happy and carefree, and you love the fact that you caused it.

You cup her cheek and pull her into a slow kiss, desperately trying to convey how much you love the woman sitting in front of you. You pull away for air and lean your forehead against hers, a lovesick grin still plastered on your face.

“What?” She whispers with a soft smile.

“Nothing… I just love you.”

“I love you too.”

“Nat?”

“Yeah?”

“Remind me to never let you step foot in a kitchen again.”

“Ow!”

“You deserved it.”

[inkandpen22]

The Princess and The Pogue (pt. 2)

Pairing: JJ x Reader / Topper x Reader

Word Count: 4k

Warnings: swearing, underage drinking, mild fluff 

Part Summary: After the Labor Day Gala, the Pogues take Y/N back to the Chateau. There, JJ takes the chance to finally talk to her and Y/N starts to show the group that not all Kooks are the same. 

Masterlist

JJ offers you his hand as you climb off of the HMS Pogue. He takes note of how soft your hands are, silently loving how tightly you're squeezing him. It makes him feel needed, but then he starts to wonder why would a girl who has everything possibly need him? You have the world at your feet and he only has loose change in his pockets.

The ride over to The Cut helped your intoxication ease up. You're still not confident enough to drive a car but capable of staying awake and be witty. You and the gang of Pogues approach the chateau, a place unlike anything you’ve ever been to. It’s colorful lights illuminate the yard and fire pit waiting to be used. JJ presses his palm to your back, worried that you may lose your footing, whether it be because of the uneven ground or your state of mind. Kiara leads the way into the house while John B and Pope linger behind, observing as JJ dotes on you. As he arm wraps around your waist slowly but surely, they exchange knowing looks. What JJ might see as progress, you view as a friend of Sarah’s being helpful. It’s not that you don’t find JJ attractive. You’ve noticed him around over a dozen times. You’ve always been friendly, but JJ has been nothing but reserved around you. You just wish you had spoken before tonight, under these circumstances. You figure he must view you as most Pogues do Kooks, as stuck up and spoiled. The screen door leading to the porch squeaks, breaking the silent stroll.

"OBX Princess has probably never been on this side of the island before," Kiara teases playfully as she enters the house to fetch you something to drink.

"I have actually," you state loud enough for Kiara to hear from the kitchen. "There's a little shop I like over here but even then, I will confess, it’s a rarity that I get to see this side of the island.”

“You talk about The Cut like it’s something worth seeing,” Pope jokes.

“Of course it is,” you reply though knowing he was only messing around. “It’s far more natural looking than what we call “nature” on the Figure 8. John B’s yard is more welcoming than the meticulously gardened one at my house,” you giggle lightly as you look around the porch. 

The three boys all exchange quick glances, surprised by your backhanded comment about your half of the island. They would’ve predicted that you’d have nothing bad to say about your well-do neighborhoods considering you’re supposed to be the ultimate Kook.

"Sorry, it's a little messy in here," John B apologizes as he begins to toss things- from bathing suits to cereal boxes- off the couch.

You still linger by the front door with JJ close beside you, watching his best friend fuss. "It's perfectly fine, John B," you assure the boy with a soft smile. "Thank you."

"You never clean up for us," Pope mocks his friend in passing as John B heads inside with his pile of clothes.

"Oh shut up," John B nudges Pope in the shoulder, making him fall back into the armchair. His action only making Pope chuckle harder.

Shyly, you step over to the old couch, taking a seat at the end closest to Pope. JJ rocks on his heels nervously, unsure where to put himself. He wants to sit next to you and place his hand on your leg but he also doesn’t want seem like a total creep. Awkwardly, he determines to lean against the frame of the screened-in-porch. He's thankful that your attention is focused on Kiara as she returns, handing you a water bottle.

"Thanks," you smile, earning a similar expression from the Pogue. She settles down on a folded chair across the coffee table from you, watching as you crack open the bottle lid.

"How are you feeling?" JJ checks as you swallow.

"My heart feels like it's in my throat," you confess, swallowing hard, wondering if that would help. "But the fresh air from the ride helped immensely."  

Pope frowns in the chair just beside you. "How many grams do you think you smoked?"

You shrug, starring off at the coffee table to think. "Couldn't tell you. It felt like I was in that locker room for ages though. I think Rafe buys his joints from a buddy of his from this side of the island," you glance between the three Pogues.

John B pops back out of the house. "Well, I suggest never taking anything from Rafe again," he exhales deeply as he settles down on the spot at the opposite end of the couch from you.

JJ internalizes a scream as he watches his best friend share the couch with you. ‘Look how easy it is you idiot!’ He thinks to himself. ‘All you had to do was sit next to her, it wasn’t like you had to put on a performance or anything!’

"Noted," you nod with a chuckle. Your brows scrunch together as you reach up into your hair. "Geez, this thing hurts," you huff under your breath. You begin to remove all the bobby pins your mom shoved into your hair and place them in your lap. She insisted on you having your hair up to show off the dress she picked out. Your hair begins to fall naturally in strands. Relief already spreads across your head.

JJ's lips part as he watches your perfectly shiny Y/H/C hair fall over your shoulders. If it didn't sound so creepy, he'd ask if you'd need help. He squeezes the wood panel behind him, suppressing his urge to run his fingers through your hair. "If you... uh..." he stammers, capturing your attention.

When your Y/E/C eyes meet his blue ones, it only makes him blush more. His fellow Pogues stare at him with a confused expression. Kiara wonders to herself what he was even trying to say. John B slouches in his seat as he turns his face away from you, begging for his friend to pull himself together.

JJ clears his throat, "if you... uh... want a change of clothes I could grab you something."

You nod, appreciative of his offer. "That would be great, thank you!" You hated this dress and everything required underneath it. You much rather be in shorts and t-shirts all day if you could. There's always been a piece of your that's been envious of the Pogues, it doesn't exactly matter what they wear as long as it's functional. Being a Kook means being done up 24/7.

JJ presses his lips together, giving you a sharp nod before jogging inside to find you something to change into. John B follows behind him, claiming that he's going to grab a case of beer for everyone. He watches as JJ has a quiet but expressive hissy fit all the way down the hall to the guest bedroom.

“Oh my God! Could I be anymore ridiculous!” The boy jumps up and down.

"JJ and Y/N sitting in a tree..." John B sings over his best friend's shoulder.

"Shut up, man," JJ grumbles, shoving his buddy away from him.

John B doesn't leave him alone, following him to his bedroom and standing in the doorway. JJ's room at John B's is utter chaos. He's in and out constantly that it's never been completely put together. All he has is a bed, an old butterfly chair from Kiara, and a chipped dresser. JJ's satisfied with though, as long as he doesn't have to go back to dad's house.

"You haven't stopped starring at her since I picked you guys up," John B snickers, watching his friend dig around his drawer for something clean. "Since when do you let people borrow your stuff?"

JJ stops his actions, pressing his palms down on the dresser. "She's... I don't know..." he struggles to find the right words as he focused down on his ring-covered hands. "I mean, you’re seeing it right? She's not like the other Kooks. I don't why she hangs out with those guys."

"Have you spoken to her before tonight?" John B asks, moving to sit on the end of JJ's bed.

JJ turns, leaning against his dresser with his arms crossed over his chest. "No, but you remember that night at the Boneyard?"

"How could I forget? You wouldn't shut up about her for weeks!" John B teases.

JJ grins, recalling the first time he ever saw you. "I didn't even know her name. Then, I saw her at the Cameron's here and there. I learned her name from Topper of all people. He called for her to join him in the pool. Whenever I was over there, she's smiled and waved at me. Then again, does that with all the workers the Cameron's have over there I guess. She’s just a nice person, treats everyone the same. I kept telling myself that the next time I saw her I'd talk to her... obviously I chickened out each time. Have you talked to her before?"

"Uh yeah, on occasion," John B exhales, trying to recall the times. "The first time I met her after the Boneyard, she and Sarah were tanning on the Cameron's dock while I was cleaning their boat. Topper and Kelce came over and Sarah went to go get them. I accidentally dropped a wet cloth on Y/N while cleaning off the side railings. Any other Kook girl would've had a fit, but Y/N just laughed. I don't know if she would've reacted the same way if Sarah and others were there, but I like to think she would've."

A soft smile appears across JJ's lips, his admiration of you only deepening. He envisions you laying out and the wet rag landing on you. No doubt John B freaked out and rushed out random apologies. You wouldn’t have been pretentious or hostile about the accident, that's not you. A reassuring smile would’ve immediately appeared on your face as you tell him it's alright.

"She tossed me the cloth with the brightest smile," John B continues with a soft snicker, proving JJ’s prediction. "And actually offered to help. Right when she was about to lend me a hand, Rafe and Topper came jogging down the dock. They got all defensive and led Y/N toward the house. It was ridiculous."

"I honestly hate those guys," JJ clenches his jaw.

"Y/N's cool though," John B tells his friend, pushing off his bed to stand up. "One of the most real Kooks I've come across."

"I can't believe I've never talked to her before," JJ huffs, tossing his head back.

"They're untouchable, you know? It's always been us vs. them," his buddy pats him on the shoulder as he heads toward the door.

"Not anymore. I don't care if it's impossible. I have to know her," he states with determination.

"She's here now, use that to your advantage," John B advises.

"Plan on it," JJ mutters to himself as his friend steps out into the hallway.

He had you here, within reach. JJ wasn't going to just let this opportunity pass him by. Topper, Rafe, the guys he hated that constantly have you in their hold aren't anywhere near here. He may never get a chance like this again. JJ's had this overwhelming feeling in his chest since he first saw you last summer. He knows you're meant to be his, not Topper's, not Rafe's, his.

As you and Pope continue your conversation about the history of the island, JJ appears in the doorway. He offers you a neatly folded stack of clothes ranging from an old AC/DC t-shirt that he stole from his dad to some old shorts of his that no longer fit. The Pogues wonder how long it took him to perfectly fold everything together. Your hands glide over his during the exchange and he ponders the sensation of your skin against his.

'You're so warm,' he thinks to himself.

"Thanks again, you have no idea how uncomfortable strapless bras can be!" You giggle as your rise to your feet to go change.

"The actual worst," Kiara agrees dramatically as she stands from her seated position. "Hey, I'm gonna come with you, I left my change of clothes in the bathroom!"

"Awesome!" You grin, following the girl inside.

Once you and Kiara have disappeared JJ plops on the couch next to where you would've been. He rests his elbows on his knees and hides his face in his hands. “Jesus and all that is good!" He yells, muffling the noise into his palms.

"What?" Pope laughs at his friend's expense. "Hoping she'd ask you to help undress her? 'Oh JJ, you're so sweet!' 'JJ, brush my hair!'” Pope mocks in a high-pitched voice.

“‘JJ, I loovvee you'," John B adds to the mix, pretending to pucker his lips at his friend.

"I think I'd actually go for a dive in the swamp if she asked me too," JJ concludes, coming to terms with how bad he has it.

"Just tell her! Put yourself out of this misery," Pope advises, earning a laugh from John B.

"It's not that easy," JJ groans, resting his head on the back of the couch.

"Why not?" John B presses.

"Because I don't wanna scare her off!" JJ snaps.

John B hosts a reality check for his friend. “Dude, you and almost every guy in the OBX are pleading for Y/N’s attention, including Topper and Rafe! You’ve seen how close Topper is to her, that’s what you’re competing with,” he reminds, making JJ’s heart sink. “Pull yourself together and impress her!”

“Be yourself of course,” Pope adds, ever the level headed mind. “But yeah you really need to step up your game. You’re sinking like the Titanic,” Pope mocks.

“It’s painful to watch,” John B adds with a laugh.

JJ exhales deeply, taking in his friends advice. How could he possibly compete with boys from the Figure 8. They’re your closest friends and have so much more to offer you. What you have with Topper is what JJ wants with you. Now he’s stuck wondering how he’s going to get it.

_______________________________________________________

After you finish changing, you find everyone outside. JJ swings in the hammock while Kiara and Pope sit on a log by the firepit talking. You approach the pair, feeling much better in JJ’s clothes.

"So, what did I miss?" You ask, clasping your hands together.

JJ didn't hear you coming, so when he glances in your direction and sees you in his clothes for the first time, he feels as though his head just exploded. His shorts are nowhere to be seen underneath the t-shirt that lands just above your knees. The collar is so worn that it nearly hangs off your shoulder, completely bare. Your loosely curled hair rests tucked over your one shoulder. He sits up to get a better look at you and nearly loses his balance in the hammock. The object rocks to the side and JJ curses loudly, catching himself from almost falling out. When he looks up, you and his fellow Pogues are staring at him, suppressing your amusement.

"Anyway...." Kiara breaks the silence and answers your question. "We were just about to start a fire. I actually promised Pope I'd help him find sticks-" she explains, rising from her seated position. "-He's afraid of going into the woods by himself," she adds in a whisper as she passes by you.

You giggle. “Anything I can do to help?" You offer.

"Nah, John B is looking for the lighter and more beer, so I think we're all good," Pope sighs and gives your arm a gentle squeeze. "Rest!"

As the pair disappear into the woods, you turn your head in JJ's direction. Right as he sees you turn, he falls back onto the hammock, pretending to have not been paying attention. You approach the blonde boy with a charming smile. JJ feels his heart skip with each shift of gaffle beneath your feet.

You stand over him, hands interlocked in front of you. "Can I join you?"

"What-" JJ's mind goes blank, forgetting how to speak English for a second. "Oh! Yeah! Yeah!" He rushes out, sliding over to the far side of the hammock to make room.

You lay down beside him, your body pressing against his. JJ finds it hard to breathe with you so close. You simply stare up at the stars. They're not as visible on the other side of the island with everyone's mansions blasting out so much light pollution. Your hand brushes against JJ's and he holds a ruthless internal battle. Does he hold your hand? Does he not hold your hand? What if you don't want him to hold your hand? But what if you do want him to?

"So, when you're not making drinks for Kooks, what do you like to do in your free time?" You ask the boy, not realizing that he's losing his mind.

JJ remembers what Pope and John B said, he has to pull himself together. He swallows hard, trying his hard to speak to you without stuttering like before. "Surfing mainly, hanging out with my friends, taking the boat out," he lists fluently, internally patting himself on the back. "What about you?"

"I love to travel, swim and go sailing," you name and there's a pause between you two.

JJ longs to hear more, but your mind begins to wonder as you stare up at the stars. JJ turns his head to the side, admiring how the glow of the Christmas lights in the trees shimmer against your tanned skin.

"Sometimes I'll be on my parent's boat by myself, and it takes every bit of me not to sail away," you mutter quietly, distant-mindedly. "It doesn't matter the destination. I find myself looking out to the horizon and dreaming of sailing out forever. I don't even think I'd look back..." When JJ shifts, you embarrassingly comprehend how much you rambled on. "Sorry, that just got really deep."

On impulse, JJ places his hand over your's giving it a slight squeeze. "No, no, I liked it! Tell me more?"

Your eyes flicker down to his hand resting over yours on your thigh. JJ hadn't even realized what he had done until he followed your gaze. He prepares to move it, but then you begin to flip your hand over, allowing your fingers to interlock. A rush of electricity rushes up JJ's arm from your hand. A wave of peace consumes him, something he hasn't felt in... well... forever. JJ watches as your eyes glide up and meet his own, the ones that made you awestruck on the boat ride here.

"What would you like to know?" You whisper into the small space between you two.

He shrugs, starting to feel relaxed around you and not a total spaz. "What else do you like? What's your favorite song? Movie? Show?" He lists one after the next.

You giggle at his enthusiasm, earning a grin from the boy. "Um okay..." you lick your lips, deep in thought, not noticing how the action made JJ swoon. "Well, that's kinda a hard one because I can't really select just one movie or song or show. What about you?"

He raises his brows, not having expected to answer himself. "I like The Beach Boys, Rusted Root, The Animals, Simon & Garfunkel-"

"Ah, Mrs. Robinson," you name with a smirk.

"You know them?" JJ looks surprised.

You laugh, kind of offended. "Do you think the Figure 8 is under the water like Atlantis or something?" You joke as your eyes fall shut with laughter.

JJ grins, glad to see you coming down from the events of earlier tonight. He was really worried for a while there. "I like your laugh," he mumbles before he has the chance to stop himself.

Taken aback, you turn to attention back to him. His eyes pour into yours with such admiration that it nearly makes you lose your breath. "I like your smile... when you show it," you add at the end with a smirk.

"I smile!" JJ pops himself up on his elbows, smiling with amazement at your remark.

"I think I may have seen it one time ever and that was earlier tonight," you describe with a giggle. "I always smile and wave at you whenever I see you with John B at Sarah's and you just ignore me. If you didn't help me tonight, I would've thought you hated me," you admit shyly.

JJ's face falters. He never realized that his shyness could make you think he ever hated you. If he wasn't kicking himself before, he surely is now. As you avoid his gaze, he lays back down beside you. Your eyes remain up toward the starry sky, too embarrassed to look at him.

Turning onto his side, JJ reaches out and tucks his fingers under your chin to make you meet his gaze. You do so, seeing his blue eyes starring into yours with a glimmer of guilt. "I don't hate you, Y/N... that would be... impossible," he whispers.

His words make your chest sink, but not with dread, with longing. How is it that this is the most you and JJ have ever spoken to each other? When you're with him it feels so normal, natural even. "Well good, I'm glad," you reply, feeling your cheeks warm up.

JJ leans forward, closing the space between you two even more. His brows scrunch together and his hand glides across your cheekbone. "You care about what I think of you?"

"Of course, why wouldn't I?" You wonder. You cared about what everyone thought of you, as every teenage girl does. Yet, for some reason, you care most about what JJ thinks. You suppose because of the circumstances of how you met. You'd hate for him to judge you or make assumptions because of a bad night.

"I'm just some Pogue," he shrugs, dismissing himself as nothing. "And you're..." he swallows hard, his eyes falling from your eyes to your lips.

"I'm what?" You press further, eager to hear what he has to say.

"The Princess of the OBX," he recites your nickname across the island.

You roll your eyes, focusing your eyes back toward the sky. "That name is so superfluous." You hated being called that. It made you feel like you were constantly on display, for everyone to gaw at, or worst, ridicule. Plus, it was Sarah's title first. It feels like you're always being compared to her, especially when you're out in public with Topper.  

"I don't know what that means but I bet it is," JJ snickers.

You giggle lightly at his confession. You appreciate his quickness to agree, despite not knowing what he's agreeing with exactly. Growing more confident as he talks with you, JJ gains the courage to reach up and brush strands of your hair away from your face. Subconsciously, you lean into his touch, your lips brushing against his palm.

"I like your hair. It's so shiny and soft," he compliments softly.

Your eyes flicker in his direction as you turn your head into his hand. "I like your eyes. I like how blue they are, they're the bluest eyes I've ever seen. They remind me of soft blue sea glass." They're intoxicating to you. If weren't so shy around JJ, you'd be staring at him every second.

"I like how nice you are, even to those you don't have to be," JJ names next.

"I like how generous you are, even to a Kook like me," you continue the exchange of compliments with a self-deprecated snicker.

"No, don't say that," JJ shakes his head repeatedly, disapproving of your remark against yourself. When you roll your eyes, dismissing his words, he slips his other hand from yours and brings it to your face too. "I like you!" He confesses, much to your surprise and his own. "...Even if you are a Kook," he adds jokingly under his breath.

Your heart races as your chest rise and fall rapidly. JJ's eyes flicker about your face, anticipating some sort of reaction. Even if it's a rejection, he needs to know what you're thinking for his sanity.

"I like you too," you lick your lips nervously. "Even if you are a Pogue," you smirk.

JJ chuckles softly at your play on his words and is in disbelief that this is happening. For a year he's been so obsessed with you and one night has opened you up to him. He's afraid that he'll wake up soon and it was all a dream.

JJ props himself up on his elbow again, bringing his other hand down your cheek to glide around the side of your neck. "I'd like to kiss you," he mutters a matter-of-factly, his eyes locked on your lips.

Gently, you bring your fingertips to his hairline, brushing his disheveled blonde locks away from his face. "I'd like that too."

Goosebumps course over your skin before JJ even brushes his lips against yours. The anticipation is enough to drive you wild. Despite wanting this moment since forever, JJ is hesitant to make a move. Slowly, he brings his face closer to yours, hovering mere centimeters from your lips. With hooded eyes, your focus remains on his lips, eager to feel them against your own. After reminding himself of how much he wants this, JJ swiftly presses his lips against yours. They're as soft as silk and taste of spearmint. Your fingers slip through his hair to the back of his head and your gather the strands into a fist, deepening the kiss. JJ releases a deep moan at the action. Needing more, he moves to hover over you. As his legs become intertwined with yours, he glides his free hand down your side to grip your waist. You bring your hands to the back of his neck, pulling him down closer to you. You feel as though you'll never be fully satisfied. His touch is like a drug to you.

"We got the sticks!" Kiara shouts as she and Pope emerge from the woods, startling you both.

"Got the beer!" John B announces he steps off the porch.

JJ breaks the kiss, flying up from his position too quickly. He loses his balance on the swinging hammock and sways to the side. "Oh fuck, here I go!" He swears, rushing to catch himself on the ground.

You yelp as JJ falls off the hammock onto the dirt beneath you. Followed by a thud, you lift yourself up, peeking over the edge of the swinging object. "JJ! You okay?!"

"Yeah, yeah, I'm good," he groans, his eyes squeezed shut as he catches his breath. "But I think my leg went the wrong way there for a second."

Kiara and Pope are oblivious to what just happened to their friend as they start up the music and fire. You slide off the hammock and land on your feet. "Here, take my hands!" You offer the hurt boy as he continues to exhale shakily.

"I don't think-" Before JJ can finish, he's flying up off the ground with a good yank on the arms from you. "Damn, Kook! You're strong," he compliments, making your heart race. Grinning ear to ear, he presses his palm to your lower back and pulls you into him.

"Are you sure you're okay?" You check again, worry woven in your tone and on your face.

"Absolutely Baby," he nods, leaning in to plant a kiss on your forehead.

"Come on guys!" Pope calls over to you, tossing sticks into the pit. He does a double-take, processing that he just saw JJ leaning down and giving you a kiss. "Did you guys see what I just did?"

"Yep," John B rushes out as he clears his throat awkwardly.

"A thousand percent," Kiara confirms, pretending as though she didn't.

"And here it goes!" John B exhales deeply to his fellow Pogues. Despite being happy that his best friend finally has his girl, he and the rest of the Pogues are well aware that a pairing like this comes with severe consequences. 

_________________________________

Masterlist

Tags: @starkeythinker @bethii1 @thegunnerkelly @cc13723things

[magic-human-bean]

Ok so!!! How would the cookies of the vanilla kingdom react to a human helping them rebuild it? Thinking the human might find it super easy to lift “heavy” resources up to the kingdom, or even gathering materials? Maybe they could even pacify whatever violent wafflebots are still around, maybe by holding them in place long enough for another cookie to deal with it? Or by accidentally breaking them lol I mean if a human is gonna grab one I’d imagine they’d have to have a light touch. Soooooooo maybe they broke the first one whoops…..

After seeing that “human helps the cacao kingdom” post I absolutely COULD NOT stop thinking about this like… a big friend helping out cookie kingdoms is such a fun idea!!!

Woop haha under the cut we go again

So, it pains me to say that, because the Vanilla Kingdom is probably my favorite (bruh what wouldn't I give to live in a kingdom where well-being. mindfulness and peace are the top priorities. I need so much therapy), but I don't think a human could easily interact with this floating kingdom!

I'm guessing, from what we saw from the cookies' perspectives, that the kingdom islands are floating... maybe 5 feet above the ground for a human? Probably more. Like, almost just out of reach lol.

So unless they have some kind of tech/magic control that allows to lower the islands, it would be impossible for the human to safely (physically) interact with the kingdom.

And even if it were down to your waist or knees, what happens if you push on them? are the islands frozen solid in space, or would it actually move and drift away? Is it possible to push them so bad that it could become unstable and fall? I'm no magic engineer, I can't tell.

BUT for the sake of dreaming, I'll just assume that the kingdom is safely lowered down to the human's knees and continue from there.

The kingdom in general - The raisin cookies were once very wary. There was a time when they would have never considered working with a being such as a human, but thanks to Pure Vanilla Cookie's radiant confidence and optimism, they reluctantly (and a little curiously) decide to trust the human. Their king does a good job to teach them to keep an open mind, so it doesn't take too long for them to warm up to the human!

Pure Vanilla Cookie - I talked about his opinion on humans in a previous post so I won't repeat everything, but basically it brings him so much joy to work with beings that are so different. If peace can prevail through so many differences, it's proof of how beautiful this world can be! That also means he'll do what he can to be hospitable. He can't exactly build a hotel room for a human, but he'll prepare a whole thing to make sure the human doesn't go hungry. He'd find a way to set up a small tarp that the human can sleep under. And since he's so eager about this human, he'll probably spend some time everyday with the human, to make sure they're doing okay and really just to chat. He really wants the human to see him (and all cookies) as a friend.

Black Raisin Cookie - She thinks the king is a little too trusting, and at first, she tried to secretly keep an eye on the human, convinced that at SOME point, the human would show their true nature. Pure Vanilla Cookie noticed that though, and invited her to some kind of tea party with the human to force them to bond. He then somehow helped Black Raisin Cookie and the human to find a common interest that allowed them to finally warm up. She's making progress at having an open mind.

Strawberry Crepe Cookie - At first they were scared of the human. It reminded them of the things Dark Enchantress Cookie used to say about witches. But when they saw how much the human was respectful towards Pure Vanilla Cookie, they thought "Wow that giant thing is just a huge pushover that does whatever people tell them to do." They then attempted to boss the human around, and, when they realized they could abuse the human's strength, they tried to convince the human to destroy some things! Like houses. Of course the human said no, and that pissed them off. Luckily Strawberry Crepe Cookie isn't foolish enough to use their wafflebots to mess with the human. BUT for some reason, they decided that the best way to bully the human without getting in trouble was to compete against the human and prove that wafflebots can achieve the same things as a human. So I guess there's a playful rival situation going on. Oh right, and if the human has any tech on them (phone, laptop, etc), Strawberry Crepe Cookie will be obsessed with it. But be careful because they won't ask for permission to use it.

[deceitfuldevil]

Snap Out of It!

Pietro Maximoff X Reader

Summary: You grew up with the Maximoff twins, even agreed to be experimented on at HYDRA with them. You and Pietro were clearly falling for each other the older you got, but HYDRA sent you away and told the Maximoff’s you were dead. So what happens when you show up at the Avengers compound with no memory of your past?

Warnings: a little bit of angst I think?? Mentions of bombs, HYDRA experiments, some fluff and kissing ;)

Word Count: 3.69K

You were born during the start of a terrible war in your home country, and about two months later your parents introduced you to a new set of twins who lived just a few doors down from you. Of course you don’t actually remember meeting them, but your earliest memories were all filled with the Maximoff twins. You practically grew up right alongside them, you three did everything together. Birthdays, playdates, dinner when your parents weren’t home, all of it. It was also nice to grow up alongside others who were your age, especially when your country was at such a low place; it was a good distraction.

You were 10 years old when your apartment complex was bombed, your father had just walked in the door coming home from work. He and your mom fell into the hole in the floor immediately, that was the last time you ever saw them. You sat curled up in a ball in the far left corner of what used to be your kitchen. Frozen with fear and trauma for two days, until you were rescued. You were brought down to a large police van, the doors were opened for you and you saw two other children huddled together under a blanket, both of them immediately turned to see you and screamed with joy. It was your best friends, the Maximoffs. You ran into the van and hugged them immediately, all of you breaking down into tears. You sat in the back of the van together and chatted about the bombing. The main question on your mind was “are there any survivors?” but as it turned out, not only were you and the Maximoff twins the only children that survived. You three ended up being the three lone survivors of the entire apartment complex. Newspapers printed out articles on “the miracle trio” for weeks to come.

From that day on you three jumped from homeless shelter to homeless shelter, never once being allowed to stay in once place for too long. You even agreed to volunteer for HYDRA’s experiments with Wanda and Pietro when you were all 17. You tried to stay in communication with your friends but HYDRA made that near impossible with their constant experiments and isolations. The time you did get to spend with the Maximoffs was cherished, especially your time with Pietro. You two were definitely drawn to each other as you grew into your mid teens, but you never truly allowed anything serious to happen in fear of how Wanda might react.

About a year into your experiments at HYDRA, you gained healing like abilities along with some telepathy as well. After learning and controlling these powers you were excited for when you got to see Wanda and Pietro next to see what powers they had gained. But you never got the chance. HYDRA saw more use in you than petty armed fights, and shipped you off to god knows where and gave you the improved and experimental “super-soldier” serum. HYDRA informed Wanda and Pietro that the experiments became too much for you, that you were weak and had passed on. Pietro cried for days on end, and Wanda could hear him every night from her neighboring cell. Thinking you were dead killed his spirit, his soul. He never even got to tell you how he really felt. That you were so much more than just a fling to him. Meanwhile you trained for months on end and every week and were forced to have shock therapy to erase your past memories. HYDRA was making you into nothing more than a weapon, a shell of a person. After a few successful missions, that's all you were good for. So if you weren’t out on business, you were put under cryo-sleep. This went on for years.

It wasn't until 3 weeks after the battle of Sokovia when Sam had been questioning Wanda and Pietro about their time with HYDRA, he was able to locate another one of their secret human experiment facilities. Steve was hoping they’d make a break in that missing persons case of his but to no avail. However, they did find one abandoned soldier in cryo-freeze. You.

Now, of course it took months of isolation and small bits of normal human activity and interaction to erase what HYDRA had brainwashed you into. After about 4 1/2 months Tony decided it was time to move you into the new compound, but kept you restricted to your room. Others were allowed to visit you if they’d like, it was encouraged really. Get you the human interaction you needed.

Three days and no visits later, which you didn’t mind. It was nice being isolated somewhere with TV service.

Clint walked over to the kitchen island where Wanda and Pietro were having a conversation over a snack.

“Either of you meet the newest recruit yet? I hear she’s still in isolation.”

“There’s a... new recruit?” Pietro said, his accent thick as he spoke with a questioning tone.

“Yeah, Y/N something. Found her in cryo-freeze at that HYDRA base we raided a few months ago.”

Wanda froze, immediately looking to her brother who looked like a deer caught in headlights.

“Pietro... it can’t be her. You remember how she died in trials” Wanda tried to reason with her still love stricken brother after all these years.

“That’s what they told us, what if they lied? It wouldn’t be the first time.”

She just shook her head “it’s impossible, do you even think she’d still remember you?” Wanda inquired.

“There’s only one way to find out!” Pietro said, speeding off leaving a trail of blue streaks behind him.

He busted through the lab doors and stood about 5 feet from Tony, breathless. “What’s her name? Her full name.”

“Okay speedy, next time knock, yeah? And half of our team here is “her’s” so I haven’t the slightest clue who you’re talking about.” Tony spoke calmly, but frustrated that Pietro bursted in out of nowhere.

“The new recruit, Y/N.”

Tony looked over to the quick man and quirked a brow at him

“Well you’ve already got half her name down. She’s Y/N L/N, an ex HYDRA super soldier. You should go visit her actually, she just moved into the compound a few days ago. No ones even visited her y—“

“Where is she staying? what room is she in?” He asked, cutting Tony off.

“Floor 2, room 315... you know it’s impolite to cut off your—“ but before Tony could finish, Pietro had sped off again.

You sat into your room watching an old sitcom from the 2000s you felt drawn to. But before you could invest yourself any further there was a knock at your door. Something you weren’t used to. You hesitantly spoke, “come in” you said sitting up in your bed, fixing your hair a little in the process.

A silver haired man slowly walked in, he had broad shoulders and a toned body. He was attractive, no doubt. But he almost looked familiar to you. Why?

“Hello dragâ” he spoke with a Eastern Europe accent, but one not one you could exactly pinpoint. But you recognized the foreign word he spoke

“Hello... domnule. How do you know Russian... and why have you come to visit?” You questioned, swinging your legs over the side of your bed. The man at your door, he looked sad now. His face fell, but you didn’t understand why.

“You don’t remember me?” He walked closer to you, as you stood up from your bed.

“Well I don’t remember much after HYDRA brainwashed the hell out of me” you said with a slight chuckle, but he still looked disappointed.

“But maybe if you tell me your name and why I should remember you” you said with a smirk, stepping closer to the handsome man that stood in front of you.

“Can I show you instead?” He said, stepping so close that now your chests were touching. You enjoyed the human interaction but with your past training, this still left you on edge.

“Show me?” You questioned, but he took this rather as the go-ahead and snaked a hand around your waist and leaned down, placing a soft kiss on your lips. You wanted to melt into his touch but it was all too soon, and you didn’t even know his name. You pulled away abruptly and slapped him. Backing away as you sat back down on your bed and stared at your hands.

“Please leave.” You said just as quietly as you said when you allowed him to come in. When you looked up, the mysterious man was gone; your door left a crack open.

No one visited you for five more days after that. It was early into the evening and you sat alone in your room reading a book. There was a knock at your door but you didn’t answer it. The last time you agreed to let someone in they violated your boundaries. But regardless your door was still opened, but a new person you had yet to meet walked through.

She stood a bit taller than you and had long red hair, a kind smile and warm eyes.

“I hope I am not intruding.” She said, with the same accent as the man who invaded on your days before. Which again, put you on edge.

“Who are you?” You said, keeping your eyes on your book— desperately avoiding eye contact.

“Wanda Maximoff, but you can just call me Wanda.” She said sweetly

“Oh how sweet of you” you said dryly, still bitter over your last encounter with someone in the avengers compound.

“All you remember is pain” she said in an as-a-matter-of-fact kind of way. “But that’s not all you know, you just need to remember.” You now dared to look up at her. She was still at the door, keeping her distance from you.

“And how am I supposed to remember what you think I know?” You asked, and she took a step closer to your bed.

“I don’t think, I see. I can see inside your head, they did unspeakable things to you. Made you carry out violent missions that still haunt your dreams. You’ve forgotten what you know, your life before them...” Wanda paused, your eyes welled up gently with tears but you refused to let them fall. But she noticed.

“I think I can help you, if you’d let me” she took another step towards you, waiting for your reaction. But you stayed silent, fighting with yourself internally.

“We used to be friends, you know. You, my brother and I. He came to visit you a few days ago, and he knows what he did was wrong. He just missed you terribly. We have similar pasts. I want to help you, but if you don’t want my help. That is okay too. Regardless of what you choose, I still want to be your friend.”

You took a deep breath and stood up out of your bed. “How will you do it?” You asked, wanting nothing more than to feel normal again.

“A little bit of my magic, a little bit of love, and a lot of stories.” She smiled sweetly, taking your hand in hers. “I’ll be right back, okay?” You nodded quickly as Wanda left your room. You sat back down on your bed and racked your head wondering what you were about to learn about yourself. Wanda came back in with a fairly large box labeled “amintiri” which you knew meant “memories” in Romanian.

“Is everyone here Russian like me?” You questioned, giving Wanda a laugh “no, just my brother and I. Coincidentally, the only two who have visited you since you moved here.” You frowned slightly at her comment

“Why has no one else come to visit me?”

Wanda sighed “no one else knows you like my brother and I do. All they know is what you have done in your past, and that scares them.” She took the lid off the box she brought in and picked up a stack of photos that were tied together with a rubber band.

“But lucky for you, Pietro and I know more.” She said with a smile

“Pietro?” You said, quirking your head to the side a bit.

“He is my twin brother, the one who visited you last week. You two have... a history of sorts together. But we’ll get into that later.”

So with that, for some reason, you felt that everything was going to be okay.

And okay it was. Wanda showed you hundreds of pictures everyday and told the story behind every picture she pulled. Although you didn’t remember any of the memories she retold, it was still nice to hear what your life was like before HYDRA.

A week and a half later, she used her powers on you. At the time you remembered nothing, but later that night when she was showing you more pictures you pulled one picture out of the  box. It was three little kids, all surrounding a brown chest that seemed to be filled with various sitcoms on VHS tape.

“This was on your 9th birthday, your father had bought a chest full of old American sitcoms. Not only did you love comedy but our family saw it as a great way to practice your English. Your favorite was The Dick Van Dyke Show.” You immediately recalled with great memory as you picked up the picture. Wanda jumped with joy and hugged you.

“You remembered!!” You nodded happily and hugged her back. “I remembered...” you said back quietly, almost in shock of yourself.

From then on memories came back to you not only easier but also a lot quicker. Soon enough, you remembered everything HYDRA had tried to erase out of your head. Even your feelings for Pietro. But you kept those memories to yourself, afraid that he would hate you after your first encounter with him when you came to the compound.

The last step Wanda had for you in what she called “Becoming You Again Project” was to have dinner with the rest of the compound, and finally be properly introduced to them.

So a dinner you all had. It was casual, but still felt formal as everyone greeted you so politely. Of course Wanda kept them all updated on your status. Even though they hadn’t met you yet, with her seal of approval they all trusted you now.

The last person to greet you was a face you could never forget now. Pietro Maximoff.

“Y/n... I know you’ve met a thousand times before, but I’d like you to meet my brother, Pietro.” Wanda said, elbowing her brother to stop staring at you and shake your hand. You felt weak at the knees under his gaze, was this how he’s always made you feel?

Pietro bowed down before you like you were some kind of princess and kissed your hand sweetly.

“Hello again, dragoste mia“ you felt hot under his touch and knew you were turning a beet red. You nodded quickly and smiled at him. He looked up and winked at you, walking to his seat. Which almost dreadfully, was directly across from yours.

After that you all sat down for dinner, Pepper had made a nice pasta dish for everyone. You ate quietly as everyone went around and told you stories of all kinds. Of past missions together, of personal life stories, and so much more. Truly it was a very enjoyable time. You loved getting to know everyone more than the files you were left in your room to “get to know the avenger” as Tony called it.

The night was almost perfect, if you hadn’t felt the gaze of a very familiar Sokovian man on you all night. He never even spoke, not that he had many stories to tell that you weren’t there for. The more stories that were told, the more you tuned them out and fell victim to his gaze.

But when the room fell quiet and you realized everyone's eyes were on you, you snapped out of whatever trance Pietro held you captive in and laughed nervously.

“I’m sorry, what did I miss? My mind was... somewhere else.” A few others laughed awkwardly, it was no doubt that everyone else noticed the constant looks you and Pietro were sharing. Tony stood up abruptly taking it upon himself to avoid the awkward silence.

“It was nothing important, Y/n. Anyways I believe this dinner was long overdue and very welcomed. We will be seeing you at training tomorrow?” Tony asked, starting to clear up his place.

“She can start on Monday, Tony. Let the kid have the weekend before she officially becomes an avenger, yeah?” Steve said, also standing up. Tony looked back at you and said “Captain's orders kid, see you Monday.” He said walking off, plate in hand. The others followed suit as you said your thank you’s for the warm welcome and goodnights to everyone.

Even if you didn’t make the dinner, you insisted on cleaning up. It was a nice way for you to feel helpful and to debrief after the dinner. Wanda left you alone and you cleaned the dishes happily while F.R.I.D.A.Y played some tunes for you.

“Mind if I lend you a hand, printsessa?” You heard a thick accent call out. You turned around to see none other than Pietro standing at the kitchen island with a smirk on his face.

“You’re not afraid of me?” You asked in a playful tone, although you weren’t entirely joking.

“Hardly, you could choke the life out of me and I’d say thank you.” He said, cheekiness radiating in his voice.  You only laughed at his comment shaking your head.

“But just so you know, I used to do the choking in this relationship.” He said, daring to step closer to you. Your legs felt like jelly but you challenged him.

“Oh did you now? It’s a shame I don’t remember that.” You said teasingly

“But you remember other things? You remember me? Us? What we were?” His tone remained challenging, but his words were serious. You flirty front dropped at this, a small fear that he didn’t feel the same now coming back to eat you alive. You didn’t answer, rather turning back around to finish off the last of the dishes.

“You do remember me, and the times we shared together... no?” He said, carefully coming beside you.

“How could I forget? Of all the memories I was able to recall, those were the best” you said half-heartedly... not meaning to sound so bitter.

“But surely you’ve moved on...” you said quietly, staring at the dish you scrubbed aggressively in your hand.

“Oh dragâ mea” he said, taking a risk and placing one of his hands at the side of your face, gently forcing you to look at him.

“I never believed them when they told us you had failed your trials and passed on. I knew you were stronger than that, and the memories of what we had, kept me strong enough to escape from those bastards. I always had hope that you were still out there.”  

You smiled brightly and tears brimmed your eyes, only this time you weren’t afraid to let them fall.

“I never stopped loving you, Y/n. Even when I thought you were dead.” And there went your tears, falling down your face as you turned to fully face Pietro as you wrapped your soapy hands around his neck.

“I love you too Pietro, the memories I have with you are the best ones I’ve remembered since I came back.”

He laughed lightly and brought his forehead to yours “so glad to hear you finally snapped out it, my love.”

“How could I have been so blind? I’m sorry I didn’t recognize you when you first visited me.” You admitted shyly

“It’s okay, I waited so patiently for years. A few more weeks wasn’t going to kill me” you laughed as your noses touched. His breath was fanning over your face and you didn’t dare break your eyes away from his.

“If you can promise not to slap me... we could always try that kiss again?” He said slyly, but you only sighed happily.

“I promise.” And that was all he needed. Pietro closed the small space between the two of you and pressed his soft lips to yours. The moment was nothing but pure bliss as you inhaled his sweet scent.

You pulled away somewhat reluctantly and smiled up at the man in front of you.

“Does that mean we’re together again?” He asked kindly

“Oh yeah, and good luck getting rid of me this time speedy.” You joked, tangling your fingers in the ends of his hair at the back of his neck.

“I wouldn’t dream of it, dragosté” he said, leaning down and bringing you in for a much more passionate kiss.

—

A/N

Ahhh hi everyone!! I truly haven't gotten this many imagines out in years and it feels so good. I turned on “The Greatest Showman” and five minutes later was struck with inspiration and somehow came up with this, which is actually kind of based off the song “Snap Out of It” by the Arctic Monkeys. I’ve been so obsessed with Pietro Maximoff/Arron Taylor Johnson lately, honestly it's ridiculous. Anyways I really hope you all enjoyed this imagine and remember, feedback is always welcomed and requests are encouraged!

Much Love,

—Skyler

[steps-to-parnassus]

dead men tell no tales reimagined as horror-action

thinking again about how dead men tell no tales had so much wasted potential to be a fantastic horror-action film. instead of focusing on j*hnny d*pp and his stale, washed-out-drunk “comedy” or trying to shoehorn in yet another love story to replace will and elizabeth, the writers/producers/directors should have taken a look at the absolutely phenomenal make-up, costuming, digital effects, and actors’ performances that they had on their hands for the crew of the Silent Mary, and at how the original script written by Ted and Terry heavily played up the horror element.

a horror-focused film would have been a breath of fresh air for the series and could have even made several other elements of the film (lieutenant scarfield, shansa, etc) work better. it would have made the idea of a “final adventure” ring much more true, and most of all, it would have harkened back to the horror elements prevalent in curse of the black pearl and ESPECIALLY dead man’s chest, which worked very strongly in those films’ favour.

just think about the possibilities (quite long, so i’ll put it under a cut):

ghostly hands coming out of the walls of the Monarch like in the trailer, but the viewer never sees what happens next. all we get are flashes of the massacre and Henry’s perspective, trapped in the brig with no light as he struggles to see and hears screams of terror and demonic shrieks of glee.

we don’t see the ghosts coming into the brig due to the darkness; all we see are golden pinpricks in the dark, noises of shuffling and agonized breaths and the sense that something is terribly wrong. they only appear to the audience as one of them brings a torch down into the brig for Henry’s benefit, and suddenly the Mary’s crew is revealed in all their terrifying glory to both Henry and us.

they stare and leer at him, and crewmembers in the background have red blood around their mouths. the audience gets the sense that they very much don’t want to let Henry go.

when we next see Henry in Saint Martin, he’s raving. he still meets Carina, still speaks with her, still agrees to help her, but he is terrified by what he has seen. he tells her about the corpses and the pools of blood he had to walk through to get to the Monarch’s longboat. he tells her how the demons watched him go with hungry eyes. he tells her that he can still hear the screams.

Scarfield does not seek to kill Henry just because he is a traitor - Scarfield sees him with Carina, whom he lusts after. Henry might help her off the island, might protect her. Scarfield wants him out of the way so that he might possess. he has heard plenty of the ghostly crew and cares not that they are attacking british ships - every officer not himself that dies is a greater chance Scarfield will be promoted in the seniority-obsessed ranking system.

Jack is doing well when we first see him, the cunning fast-talker we’ve always known him to be. it is only after the rumours of a ghostly crew with a captain calling himself Salazar spread like wildfire around Saint Martin that he starts trying to drown himself in liquor to assuage the bone-deep terror. 

when Salazar and his crew are freed, they don’t have a mild little cheer. no, they tear their hair and howl like madmen. they have been storing all their pain and hate against pirates and empires for decades - they are going to bathe the oceans in blood.

when we first see Shansa, she is hooded and cloaked, somehow able to track the movements of the dead. she takes her robe off and we see why: she is covered in scars from blades and fingernails and teeth, wounds left her when she was the “one man left alive” from a voyage into the Triangle many years ago, back when the Mary’s crew could not control their bloodlust as well as they can now. and that is terrifying to us - what they did on the Monarch was their version of being restrained.

we see the news of the dead crew spreading as they attack pirates and british ships alike. churches are overflowing with terrified citizens; people bar their doors and hold fast their rosaries and guns at night.

Jack’s crew were loyal to him up until they heard of the dead - now they must be paid off by Henry to rescue Jack, because every pirate in the Caribbean knows who Salazar is; and now that he is the undead, they daren’t let him find them. the rumours are coming back from men left alive that the crew of the Mary sing and laugh as they butcher without remorse, that the evil curse they lay under forces them to feast on human flesh just to keep going, just to feel anything. Jack’s crew do not mutiny later because he suggests it - they mutiny out of sheer terror.

the scene with Salazar and Barbossa’s first encounter is one of the few in the film where the horror element is quite prominent (the other being Salazar’s intro, and it isn’t a coincidence that these are two of the film’s strongest and most compelling scenes). very little about this would need to be changed to work, save for one thing: Salazar does not tap his sword five times at the end. instead he simply says, “you can take what’s left of them,” and nods to his lieutenant and his men, who all begin to smile as they turn to the crew. when we see them next, Barbossa’s crew are down to less than half. we never find out what happens to them.

when Salazar tells his story and we see the past, we are stunned. here is the crew of the Mary, working together, smiling, laughing at their victory. we see and hear them talking about how finally civilians will be safe; about how they can retire, go back to their wives and children and parents and siblings. we see them as normal men with a noble goal. 

we see them awake and scream in pain and terror, and it is on their agonized screaming at the start of their decades-long imprisonment that we cut back to the present. now we can understand, at least a little, how once-good men became monsters.

Carina, Henry, and Jack would have far more dramatic reactions to the Mary’s crew on the beach. for Henry, these are the demons that slaughtered an entire crew as he sat in the brig, trapped and helpless and terrified that his horrific end was imminent. for Jack, these are men whom he’s seen before as humans, and whose hatred and bloodlust is directed at him. for Carina, who has never seen ghosts before, she is struck dumb. these men have horrific injuries, and they are looking at her with detached curiosity and bloodlust that seems a thousand times more horrifying than the looks Scarfield gave her. she can almost see what they would have done to her had they caught her.

there is no ridiculous wedding scene on at hangman’s bay. instead, the locals saw the giant ghost ship sailing into their waters. they know who it is the demons want, but are not aware that the Mary’s crew cannot set foot on land. they intend to give Jack up to the ghosts in exchange for their own lives.

Salazar still executes Barbossa’s men in the name of the king. he is completely mad, but some part of him still thinks himself a righteous naval officer.

Scarfield wants the trident, but more than that, he wants to use it and Shansa’s knowledge to control these dead men. he remembers the reign of terror Beckett wrought with the Dutchman. he would see it repeated for his own personal gain.

in the ship-to-ship battle, Henry initially tries to defend Carina until he realizes that the ghosts aren’t attacking her. they want her to lead them to the trident so that they can seize it for themselves. our heroes do not yet know that they want to end their curse. in fact, the crew of the Mary don’t really know that themselves - they’d much rather have the pirates surrounding them dead to rights, and then free themselves.

every time one of the Mary’s crew is dissipated due to contact with land, the others react. they scream and howl and gnash their teeth and their eyes flare gold. the viewer can feel how much they would like to crush the heroes’ bones into pulp.

when Henry is captured, the officers of the Mary cannot take their eyes off of him. he is terrified for his life, shaking the whole time. when Lesaro mentions that they have tried possession before, the other officers mourn their comrades who became trapped in human bodies and slowly died of thirst, still unable to leave the Triangle, all because they wanted to see the sun again. the viewer is conflicted - are we supposed to pity these monsters? there are flashes beneath the madness that suggests that deep down, they just want to be human again.

when the crew’s curse is broken, we see more of it. we see limbs regrow, bodies knit together again. we see the bloodthirsty monsters we have come to fear laughing and weeping with joy, embracing each other. we hear their terrified screams for help as Salazar finally demonstrates that his own bloodlust was decidedly not the byproduct of a curse as was the case for his crew and pursues Jack.

Barbossa climbs down the chain to kill Salazar, but the former spanish officer deals a mortal blow. just as he is about to kill Barbossa, Jack himself decides to muster up his courage and sacrifice to save those dear to him, which throughout the films, he has always done. he falls from the anchor, and together with his rival-turned-best-friend, he plummets to his death with one last jaunty sweep of his tricorne hat.

there are many dead from the battle. Barbossa’s pirate empire is in ruins, and british power in the caribbean has taken a massive hit. people everywhere are terrified. Henry, however, finds that his terror has stopped and resolves to be a braver man after witnessing what Barbossa and Jack have done. Carina pledges to honour her father and never again to disbelieve in ghost stories. she decides to become a pirate.

in this bittersweet ending, a glimmer of hope: the Dutchman surfaces, with two new crewmembers. Will hangs up his hat to Jack, with Barbossa as his first mate, and Jack is finally reunited with Bill, who has made amends with Barbossa. the old captain-versus-captain dynamic is back - and destined to play out forever. with uncharacteristic solemnity, Jack vows to ferry Salazar’s crew to the other side so that they can finally rest.

Will climbs aboard the Black Pearl, where the crew has elected Carina Barbossa captain. he asks if she might sail him to Singapore - his wife is the pirate king and lord of the south china sea, and that is where she holds court. Henry and Carina, true pirates, share a kiss as the sun rises and our heroes head off to find new adventure. the nightmare is finally over.

[poisonousroxstar]

Imagine:

Hajime Hinata with a Yandere AI S/O who can control the killing game

Trigger warning: Yandere themes (reader/you), forced relationships, manipulation (mentally, emotionally, literally), pain. Probably OOC (sorry). ❗❕SPOILERS❗❕

Note: this was inspired by @daisyfics headcanons on a reader similar to Monika. Please go read them, they're very good! Also. . Idk about this one, I might rewrite it. I just felt inspired and went with it, but it's probably super ooc for hajime.

You were a rogue AI, originally made to help the remnants of despair. But in the end, you only cared about haijme. . Or izuru, but you probably preferred the former.

You took control over everything that happened in the machine, overpowering monokuma's own control. Instead of ending the killing game though, you allowed to continue.

Because, it helped get you what you wanted. And what you wanted was hajime's affection, and love, and devotion.

Hajime only saw you as another classmate at first, but he slowly began to develop a small crush on you. How couldn't he? You affected such a charming personality. He couldn't help but fall for you, especially when you showed him affection (which, originally, he was a bit uncomfortable with).

Day by day, you progressively got more clingy and even demanding of his time and attention. He'd shut you down when you'd get like this, trying to reason with you and attempting to calm you down when it was obvious you were getting jealous and even occasionally hostile; it was getting ridiculous now.

So, you'd take your anger out on the other students. You'd never harm haijme though, probably not anyway.

You began to tweak and twist the personalities and mental states of all the ultimates on the island, making them dislike, avoid, and even react aggressively towards him. He didn't know what was happening, why everyone suddenly hated him. Even chiaki and usami avoided him now, with pained and pitied looks on their faces.

And then, you'd swoop in, showering him with love and affection. You planted seeds in his mind, that he didn't need anyone else; all he needed was you. You two together could take on the entire world. Just the two of you.

And those seeds sprouted magnificently. Haijme had no one to turn to, no one that would listen except you, and your sweet comforting words brought him so much love.

The only time people would listen was during trials, which had progressively became more frequent and violent. He hadn't noticed how bad everyone had gotten, since you kept him on a tight leash.

And even during those trials, people would state their distaste towards them. He even asked why everyone hated him, and all they could reply with collectively was "I dunno, I just do".

The one who seemed to not have any dislike towards him was chiaki, who--while not being able to speak or even interact with him directly--could tell him through letters. She warned him about you, telling him in a note that you were the reason why everyone was acting strange. Why she couldn't talk to him. Why all the students suddenly couldn't stand him.

At first, he didn't believe it. But the more he thought about it, the more he began to get suspicious. You were so clingy, so suffocating even. And soon, he began to believe chiaki. Were you spreading rumours about him?? So you could isolate him? So you could have him only for yourself??

When he confronts you, asking if you were the one who made everyone dislike him, you're puzzled. How did he know?

You tell him no, that you'd never do such a thing, which he doesn't truly believe. Before he can refute, you ask him why he asked, and he replied dumbly by saying it was chiaki who told him.

And this would lead to an argument. You asking why he was with chiaki, him asking why you want to know and why she couldn't talk to him because of you.

He eventually stormed off, frustrated and angry at you. And you were left feeling the same, but now with a deadly thirst for digital blood.

Chiaki was found dead the next day, her body crushed under the weight of broken debris. Several monomi bots were alongside her, flatten into pancakes.

Hajime looked so confused, and disturbed, and distraught at the sight. And here you happened to be, trying to make him feel better. Trying to comfort him in his frozen state, likely running your hands down his arms or patting his shoulder saying 'it was bound to happen' in a neutral or possibly even jovial tone.

But hajime isn't comforted. He's actually scared now, because he thinks you did it. A deeper part of him knows you did it. And he accuses you of it, which. . While yes you did, doesn't make his tone any less hurtful.

So, you tell him the truth about it. How you only did it because she was getting in the way of something she couldn't understand! She was a threat, and had to be taken care of. You described everything, and it only made him feel sick and revolted at you.

He tells you you're a monster, a murderer, and that he's gonna tell everyone what you did. And those words sting, and they make you angry.

So you threatened him, telling him you'll get rid of everyone if he doesn't act like you wanted him too. He challenges this remark, and so you fight back.

You show him exactly what you mean by reanimating chiaki's broken corpse, moving it and speaking through it like a puppet. He's stunned at first, before he freaks out and flinches away when you move it closer to him.

You bring him to where everyone else is, and display just how much power you have over this world. You begin to bring everyone who died back, this time really alive and working. Everyone's shocked, some are even happy. But that happiness is short-lived when you give in to the power.

You started to twist the world around you, and began to corrupt and brutally change everyone. You had them killed, brought back; executed, brought back, and so on. And hajime has to watch them killed in front of his eyes again, and again, and again.

You even punish him too by forcing him to remember who he really was, overloading his senses, and then going even further by killing and executing him as well.

He's breaking down faster then you thought, begging you to stop. He's crying, and in so much pain, but you just keep it going until you think he's had enough. And that isn't until hours in. Or at least what he thinks is hours.

When you're done, everything's gone black. Everyone's gone. There's only hajime in the fetal position, eyes stained with tears and exhaustion. He's shivering, and even the faintest touch would induce pain to him in this moment.

And then you swoop in, gently caressing his skin. Even if his body appeared fine, the pain and cuts and bruises still felt like they were there. So when your touch only caused him to feel soothed and calm, he was confused. . And instinctively his body wriggled closer to you. Weakly

You whispered into his ear, shushing his silent sobs and flinching. You told him it was all ok, it was all alright. You were here, and that's all he needed.

After that, hajime was careful.

You 'reset' the program, bringing everybody and everything back to their original slates. Except for hajime. He's forced to remember what you did to him. You make sure he remembers so he won't step out of line.

Chiaki and monomi are gone. They were no longer needed. And knowing you erased them completely just adds another layer of despair and depression for him.

He hates you. He fears you, but what can he do? You have him and everyone else in your control.

Don't bother thinking the future foundation will help either. Your control is so extreme, you're able to work the machines now. And besides

Their bodies are long dead anyway.

They'll never leave you. . He'll never leave you.

If hajime tries to fight against your grip well. . You may just have to punish him again. And if that still doesn't fix him, then. .

Maybe you'll have to be much more direct with the problem, by picking apart and swapping around his code. After all, everything's just 1s and 0s now.

He may come a little different, but he's still your hajime. He's just. . The version you want him to be.

And if that is the route you choose, then he'll love you unconditionally.

And really, that's all you want.

[barzzal]

between halls and thin walls → part two

summary: friends who fool around almost never work. almost.

↳ pairing: mathew barzal x you

↳ warnings: swearing, sex toys, masturbation, sexual/suggestive themes, and yenno, mathew :(

↳ genre: angst, smut, roommates au, best friend’s best friend, friends with benefits, 18+ minors dni*

↳ length: series; part one, part two (5.9k), part three, part four, part five, part six

↳ masterlist: the barn

↳ track: listened to a lot of beyoncé for this one !!

note: part two’s here!! and i know it’s late for an update but i just wanna thank everyone for commenting on the first part 🥺 really glad that you guys liked it. reading your tags are everything to me it means a lot! happy reading <3 (gif used: mine)

You come out of your bedroom dressed and ready for work. Your handbag was slung over the depth of your forearm as you headed for the kitchen and the other, scrolling past emails on your phone, admittedly bracing yourself for the mess you know will eventually greet you.

To your surprise, what you see instead were Mat Barzal’s guns rippling through the jet black sweater he had worn last night. A memory that sent your mind to less than eight hours ago, before eventually landing on what happened shortly when the two of you had woken up.

“Thank god you haven’t burnt the house down.” you kid, placing your handbag atop the island.

Mat spares you a quick glance, rolling his eyes whilst he lets you watch him whisk some eggs for breakfast.

“Like it?” he cocks, pertaining to how your eyes were pinned hard on his biceps that he was, for the most part, effortlessly sporting. It’s true, though. He didn’t need to flex because it was just there.

“Coffee or Juice?” he asks, as the kind friend and roommate that he is. 

Anthony, as surprising as it was, takes incredibly long showers. If people hadn’t known him well, they’d easily think he’s abusing himself there. But you’ve got to admit that not having him around felt nice for you didn’t have to feel so seen with Mathew.

‘Course, there’s nothing more, like a fix-in on the side, to your set up. You just appreciate the feeling of not having to lie to Beau about all the ugly concealed underneath all the innocent gazes you and Mathew exchange.

“Coffee.” you answer shortly, realizing that you forgot the material you need for today’s meeting.

“Where are you going?” Mat asks when he catches you receding out into the hallway. You didn’t bother looking back, “Forgot something!”

He gets back to whisking the eggs when a chime comes off his phone. He takes it from the counter, placed just before the plates he left to dry last night, absent-mindedly putting the bowl he was holding onto the island, toppling over the green juice he has prepared for himself. 

“Shit.” he curses as soon as he sees it for it was already spilling all over the place, making the mess you’ve been secretly anticipating the moment Mathew said he’d make breakfast.

Panicking at how you’d see he’s successfully screwed such a no-brainer task, Mat grabs the first thing he sees on the marbled surface and uses it to clean the mess he’d made.

“Huh.” he muses to himself, realizing that the silk fabric didn’t do much in helping him clean up. He tosses it over the sink carelessly and grabs a few napkin rolls from one of the cupboards. 

So much for making an effort to feed Anthony Beauvillier. 

“Now, that was fast.” you say with a smirk once you’ve entered the kitchen, startling Mathew as he continued cleaning up after his mess. 

“Ha-ha. Very funny.” he sarcastically laughs, discarding the paper towels onto the sink along with the used ones. 

Thankfully, your stuff was at the other side of the island so it was very much safe from all the chaos happening at the other end of the marbled surface. However, your laugh dies down the second you realize that your handkerchief was no longer where you’ve last put it.

“Hey,” you call on Mathew, “What’s up?”

“Have you seen my handkerchief? I know I left it somewhere.” you anxiously ask, eyeing every corner of the room hoping to see Nana’s handkerchief, the one she gave to you on your 18th birthday.

“What does it look like?” Mat asks, now holding a pan in his hand as he prepares breakfast.

You proceeded to describe your grandma’s handkerchief in the most specific and perhaps excruciating detail Mathew has ever heard someone talk about something as mind-numbing as a handkerchief.

Despite that, Mat lights up the moment it hits him, not realizing the bigger mess he’s about to walk into. He rejoices at how he knew exactly what you were looking for, “Oh! You mean this?” 

With clueless eyes, you watch Mat go over the sink after he wipes his hands dry, fishing out an all too familiar fabric from the sink. Once your eyes land onto the cream colored silk handkerchief, with details carefully sewn by hand, drenching in what seems to be Mat’s morning drink, your heart falls to the pit of your stomach. 

“What did you do??” The sudden rise in your voice startles an unsuspecting Mathew. You eagerly went over to his side and hastily snatched the smooth fabric off his hands, “It’s ruined!”

“What? I didn’t know it was yours!” Mat’s eyes are wild with confusion. Puzzled at how you were so fixated on the useless fabric. It didn’t help him anyway. There’s nothing much left to do but to throw it. It’s garbage. 

“You ruined it!” you lash out, letting Mat get eaten up by the sudden anger bubbling inside your guts but he was rather quick in defending himself, “I didn’t know it was yours since I grabbed the first thing I could find. Why are you getting upset over a shit-ass handkerchief?” 

Your mouth falls and you shake your head, finding his defensiveness quite appalling. “You’re an ass.”

“Look, I’m sorry. I didn’t know it was yours.” he explains, “Come on, it’s just a stupid handkerchief I’ll just buy you a new one.” he tries to laugh the tension off, sporting his signature grin.

Mat take shots of the stunned expression on your face, “Stupid?” you repeat what he said, your eyes already starting to sting with tears. Clearly, you were far too overwhelmed to even acknowledge Mathew’s half-assed apology.

“You’re a fucking asshole.” your words bite and that’s when things took a turn for the worse. 

“I said I was fucking sorry! What the hell do you want from me? Shit a fucking hanky?” he rans a hand through his hair, “Do you realize how childish you’re being right now?”

Outraged, and perhaps disappointed by how he was too high up his horse, your voice takes up a higher tone, entering what seems to be an early screaming match between you and Mathew.

“Could you just–” you breathe, “for one second– stop being so goddamn stupid and get over yourself!?” were words that welcomed Anthony the moment he stepped into the kitchen, towel wrapped around his waist, a grin on his face visible as he poured himself a glass of water, inviting himself in the screaming match you and Mathew have exclusively put forth for him.

“Stupid is not when you’ve already apologized a hundred times! Stupid is being such a crybaby and a bitch about it!” Mathew retorts, gaining his better end of the argument.

“What a beautiful morning, isn’t it?” Anthony chimes in, a hand resting on his chin, adoring his two best friends upon getting used to the best worst duo he’s ever known in his life. 

“Shut up, Beau.” you say, throwing him a glare.

“Well, beautiful is definitely not in Y/N’s dictionary.” Mathew chides with a smirk, enough to earn himself a scoff from you. 

“You know what? I don’t have the time for this bullshit.” you cuss, finally retreating, your already heavy heart taking a better hold on your thoughts, blocking your ability to even come up with a clever remark to come back at Mathew.

You throw the delicate, yet already ruined piece of fabric towards his way as hard as you could before marching out of the kitchen and head off for work.

“Fucking unbelievable.” Mathew curses under his breath once he catches the silk linen, shaking his head as he turns his attention back to the morning task at hand. 

You were fucking unbelievable.

Once the boys were left alone, Tito raises a brow, briefly looking back after your footsteps, “What happened here, anyway?” he asks, having realized what must’ve caused such a heated argument so early in the morning. 

“I used this handkerchief to wipe the whole thing off and she just went ape shit! I mean–” Anthony cuts Mathew the moment he recognizes the thin cloth he was holding.

“Woah, woah. Wait a minute, you used this?” he muses, stressing on the possibility of what might have been Mathew’s biggest mistake of the day, his eyes darting between him and the fabric.

With furrowed brows, admittedly weirded by how Anthony reacted almost the same way you did a while ago. “It’s just a handkerchief, man. I can go buy her a bunch if that’s what she wants.” he says defensively.

Anthony shakes his head wildly, his irises now dilated as he examined the stain already sitting on the material. “No no. Oh god no.” He says, snatching Mathew’s phone from the counter to google quick remedies that might remove the said stain from the already ruined cloth. 

“What do you mean no? You guys spend way too much time together, you’re beginning to be as weird as her.” He scoffs, sipping on a glass of water. 

“No, you dumbass. This was her grandma’s!” Anthony says, eyes fixated on the delicate handkerchief. Remembering how you’d told him how long it has been in your family that having Nana give it to you after all the years you’ve spent admiring it from afar meant so much to you than anything anyone could have possibly given you.

“So?” Mat casually replies, closing his arms to his chest before adding, “Is she dead or something? Didn’t you guys visit her for the Holidays?” 

“What?? Why would you even say that?– You’re such a jerk.” Tito shakes his head, appalled by how Mathew easily shrugged the matter off when he knew full well how sentimental he himself could be.

“Well, how am I supposed to know?? If that thing’s so important I wouldn’t leave it on top of some random shit lying around!” He counters, defending himself for reaching for the nearest cloth he could find when he did whatever he does best when he’s in the kitchen.

Tito clicks his tongue and looks at Mathew exasperatedly, “Tell me, where did you find this exactly?”, to which Mathew only answered with a quiet voice, “It may or may not have been placed on top of her purse…” he avoids Tito’s gaze, finally catching on how he was the one in the wrong. 

“See? Jerk. Now, go figure out how you’ll take the stain off.” Anthony demands, his voice embraced by a definitive tone. One that made Mathew know he wouldn’t be able to persuade him into letting this go. 

Tito takes one good look at Mat’s catastrophic attempt to feed the house, striding his way out of the kitchen, “And make sure you apologize!” he adds, footsteps receding into the hallway, leaving Mathew scratching the back of his head out of guilt and frustration.

You have spent the following days either avoiding Mathew or ignoring his existence completely. Anthony talked to you the night that incident happened and assured you that he would do his best to have it fixed. You didn’t want to bother him nor take time off his already busy schedule, but you were just so bummed to even say a word.

That night, you spent the entire evening in your room, facetiming your mother, saying how much you’re missing home. You can’t bring yourself to tell her about the handkerchief. For some people, and that people being Mathew, it might’ve been just some silly thing but Tito knew how much that small piece of cloth meant to you. 

Mathew, on the one hand, was for sure guilty to his bones. He didn’t see you that night nor the nights that followed. He didn’t think much of it but when he found himself searching for that same handkerchief in the hopes of replacing it only to find out that it was nowhere to be found in the market, was when he did realize that ruining the one thing that held you closer to home was the last push your non-existent relationship with him had to have for you to finally lose any ounce of amour nor civility you once had for him. 

Anthony wasn’t a stranger for said changes either. He began waking up to a still apartment enveloped by a wall you profusely built between you and Mathew. You even unknowingly shut Tito out in the process as well. It was like you were grieving. Like, it was a whole different kind of heartbreak he knew he can’t get you out of that easily. 

You tried making it up for your best friend of course. Knowing that you haven’t been yourself since that day. You thought about the possibility of having taken the whole thing too seriously that you might’ve overreacted a bit. Nonetheless, no matter how much you try to push it in the back of your head, Mathew’s mere presence began irking you in ways it never did back when you used to enjoy the bickering you exchange with him, especially in bed.

“Thanks for dinner, belle.” Anthony politely says, earning a smile from you so effortlessly upon hearing the pet name he uses for you. Something Mat only shrugged off, trying to piece out the same gratitude, “Thanks, y/n.” he genuinely adds. But as expected, he had nothing.

You pick up all the empty plates, including Mathew’s, who was sitting in front of you while Anthony sat at the end of the table. Tito hurriedly wipes his mouth with a napkin and takes the plate from you, “Let me help you with that.” he says with the same kind eyes that has never failed to win you over. 

“Yeah. Okay, sure.” you shortly answer, leading the way towards the kitchen, leaving one Mathew Barzal feeling small and alone at the dining table. 

𖥸

If there was one thing you’d gladly acknowledge after all the years of watching people kiss Mathew’s ass was that he was is really good. He’s fast and he can do unimaginable damage on the ice. There’s no denying that he deserves to be the face of the New York Islanders. But we know you don’t care about any of that. The only thing you care about was how unbelievably good he is at everything he does that not even you or your pink rubber toy could suffice. 

He was just that damn good. 

As your eyes shut whilst you mount your pleasures on your own, biting your lips to choke in your own moans, Mathew handling you was what circled your mind since you started defiling yourself in the bathroom. You let your arousal be washed away by the warm water trickling down your skin, envisioning Mat’s rough hands grazing your body, touching your core like his hands were meant to do nothing else but that. 

It was wrong and pathetic, but you couldn’t think about anything else. You and Mathew have been avoiding each other for days. The dynamic went so much worse than when you weren’t sleeping together and you know that Tito was bound to notice it soon. Thankfully, the boys were on another roadie for a week so you had quite some time to think things through about your current sitch with Mathew. You didn’t like any of it because it felt like you gave a fuck (which obviously, you didn’t). You just feel obligated to sort things out with the biggest ass that ever lived because you didn’t want to involve Tito into the mess you’ve wrongfully made yourself. 

You hop off the shower feeling unsatisfied. You haven’t gotten laid since the last time you were with Mat. Which is sad, not just for you but also for her. You’d think considering the boys aren’t around you’d bring someone home, maybe even one or two. But just thinking about going on bars alone so you could find a potential bone-mate is already far too tedious and you weren’t in the right state to do so. You had so much going on at work, anyway. And you can always use a wand to scratch an itch. Neither would satisfy you more than how someone-who-will-not-be-named could, but you might as well be pathetic without having to hook up with some random dude whose name you’ll eventually forget in the morning. 

You opted to wear an old pull-over you borrowed (took) from Tito years and years ago and partnered it with some leggings so you’d be comfortable enough for the rest of the night. You have nothing else to do and you are already fed up with your workload that watching a crappy movie off of Netflix doesn’t sound like a bad idea. 

With a giant bowl of popcorn and two bottles of beer in your hands, you march your way into the living room, ready to spend the night binge watching romantic comedies, crying and laughing in between. Or maybe just fall asleep on the couch while your comfort TV series is on. 

The boys won three games out of the four that they had during the trip and you only saw the ones they won so you were thankful that you didn’t have to sit at home alone watching their faces fall after that OT lost against the Flyers. Anthony phoned you that night and you can just feel the relief in his voice that you didn’t have the time to see it. They weren’t playing like they should. Thankfully, they were able to bounce back. 

Your eyes were beginning to grow tired halfway into the movie when you hear the front door open, followed by luggages dragged into the house tirelessly. 

“Y/N?” Anthony calls out.

You hit the movie on pause and hurriedly make your way towards the hallway. “You’re home already?”

They were already taking their coats off when you met them halfway, Tito was putting his away while Mat had just taken off his toque and was running his hands through his hair, unconsciously meeting your eyes upon hearing your voice. 

You quickly break it off when you give Tito a quick embrace and plant a small kiss on his cheeks, “I texted you.” he says, eyebrows quirked, surprised that you didn’t know. 

In an effort to avert any more of his questions you immediately point towards the movie you had on, “Haven’t checked my messages, sorry.” 

“So, you guys ate dinner?” you ask, passing Mat a quick look. One that came as a surprise because he wasn’t even hoping to hear a word from you given the way you two left things a little too on the edge, screwing with the whole thing even more. 

Mat avoids your irises and faintly nods. 

“Big win tonight huh? Told you, you can do it.” you say with a beaming smile, nudging Tito with your hips as you get back to watching your film. “You gotta do what you gotta do, babe.” he winks, lugging his stuff around towards his bedroom. 

“Barz, don’t stay up, Trotz needs us first thing in the morning.” he looks back, reminding Mat who was already standing in front of his door, “Yeah. Sure.” he replies shortly with a tired voice. 

You and Anthony bid your own goodnights whilst Mat mutters a quiet “Night.” when you nodded his way, clearly not enjoying any of the first awkward encounters he’s yet to have with you. Seven days is quite a reasonable time for your anger to dissipate, a short yet seemingly long period of time that’s just enough to kill off whatever guilt Mat had initially felt before you parted ways.

𖥸

“Alright, I’m off.” Tito casually declares, putting on his watch. “There’s food in the fridge, and tell Mat to go easy on my beers.” he gives you a knowing look as he bends down to give you a kiss on the cheek. 

Tito had been seeing some mystery girl for quite some time now. He hasn’t told you anything spicy in particular but by the looks of it, you could already tell that she has him towed. 

“Good luck, loverboy.” you say, swatting his hand away and pushing him out to the door. The two of you cringe at what you said, sharing one last laugh before you watch him disappear out into the hallway.

The apartment was cramped the whole day because Anthony and Mat had the day off. Tito had plans for the night, obviously. As per you, you had plans lounging in the living room, switching through channels in the hopes of stumbling on a show that isn’t half as bad than the rest. 

Thankfully, a Sandra Bullock film was on HBO.

The Proposal, to be exact.

You decide to dive in the film with a cold bottle of beer on your hand. There was no way you’d be washing down the effects of a naked Ryan Reynolds with a glass of water. You haven’t gone mad. 

The film was already at the part where Sandra was proposing to Ryan when you hear Mathew’s door open. You haven’t talked since the night they came back home other than the small nods you exchange upon passing by each other. All of which are mind-numbing and impossible to swallow. The awkwardness has not dissipated completely unlike what you presumed. You were just grateful Tito was always around that you didn’t need to be alone together. 

Alarmed by another impending awkward encounter, you clear your throat and turn up the volume a little to remain focused on the film, investing your sole attention to it even if you have seen the movie countless times. 

Mathew, in his sweats and a gray shirt on, carefully makes his way out the hallway and into the common area after snatching a glass of water from the kitchen. You see him move further into the room but you make sure that he knows you weren’t paying attention. You take that he must’ve been thirsty and needed a drink but you don’t see him move further in the corner of your eye like he was making his way back in his room. It almost seemed like he was actually waiting for you to look his way.

Hesitantly, you follow your gut feel and see him standing a few feet away from you. “Yes?” you ask when you catch him staring. 

Mat blinks a few times, “Hi.” he takes a deep breath, trying to shake off the awkwardness circling the two of you.

When the only thing he gets from you is a tight lipped smile, he shakes his head and proceeds to walk where you were seated. 

“Mind if I join you?” he asks, his voice deep and clear enough to send your mind elsewhere. 

Regardless, you contain yourself and return a polite smile, “No. Not at all.”

“So, what are we watching?” he sits once you gestured onto the other end of the couch. 

“The Proposal.” you answer before throwing a question yourself, “Aren’t you supposed to be resting now?” you shake your head, absentmindedly chuckling. Not intending to make him feel that you’ve forgotten about what he’d done weeks ago. 

“I couldn’t sleep.” he props his back and lets himself sink in the cloud couch, his legs spread wide eating up most of the space left for the two of you to share. “Oh. I only like him when he’s Deadpool” he points out, cringing at how you were watching another one of your romantic comedy films.

You roll your eyes, admiring how he’s trying to break the tension between the two of you despite his unsolicited sentiments, “I like it when we were on not-speaking terms.” 

Mat mocks you for a while but decides to watch the movie so you let him be and get back to the film, letting a giggle slip every now and then. Something you thought Mat wouldn’t notice.

Watching the remainder of the film went with ease. ‘Course, Mat would steal a few glances here and there (ones he thought had gone unnoticed), but overall the quietude between the two of you was bearable. Almost like it was just two buddies hanging out. 

Although, not long after, your eyes were torn away from the huge flat screen when Mat spoke, “By the way,” he looks at you and calls your attention. 

Puzzled, you watch him take something from his pocket, “Here.” 

Once you see what he has in his hands your heart froze. Mat carefully hands you the cloth with an apologetic smile; his eyes soft with a hint of hope as he watches your reaction. 

“What– How?” you ask in bewilderment, failing to comprehend how he was able to fix the handkerchief. It looked the same as before. All of its details were in place, it was good as new. You were holding Nana’s handkerchief. 

Mathew didn’t bother to dance around and just offered you a quiet chuckle, evidently enjoying the wide smile painted on your lips. “Don’t worry about it. I just wanted to say that I’m sorry.” he apologizes, shielding you from all the strings he had to pull just to get that cloth fixed up.

You hold the smooth and delicate piece in your hands as you look at Mat, letting your feelings get a better hold of you, “Thank you.” you say, unknowingly reaching out, your arms wrapped around his neck as you give him a quick peck on the cheek. 

Mathew’s hand instinctively finds your back to support you, startling himself in the process. Nonetheless, the thought was easily shrugged off by how close your faces were, your smiles fading once you meet each other’s gaze. You feel the same rush you felt the night you and Mat got involved for the first time. Your hand was placed rather endearingly on his cheek, your faces, just like all the other times, unreasonably close to each other. Mat then clears his throat and only looks you in the eye. 

Afraid that the innocent hug would lead to something more, perhaps another mistake to be jotted down on the board, you breathe a laugh and break away, “Uh, thanks again. It really means a lot.” 

Mat must’ve sensed that you were being cautious so he puts his guards up and returns a chuckle, “So… we good?” he asks, reaching out a hand your way. 

Your fingers slide into his, gliding its way perfectly, your hands fitted well with his despite the obvious difference in proportion. His grip tightens in the most comfortable way possible. 

A smile breaks off his lips once he hears you answer, “We’re good.”

“I should probably get some sleep.” Mat tells you the moment you pull your hand away.

“Are you gonna be okay here?” he adds.

You looked at him, not wanting him to be obligated to keep you company, “Oh, yeah. I’m a big girl.” you say, making Mathew grin, shaking his head.

“Alright. I’ll be in my room if you need anything.”

Not picking up on whatever sloppy insinuation Mat has thrown out carelessly into thin air, he hears a simple “Mkay.” 

Thus far, letting him know that his subtle invitation was far from being RSVP’d.

𖥸

“You’ll be in your room?” Mat scoffs, staring at the ceiling while he lays on his bed, “The fuck was that, Mat?” he scolds himself for always coming up with the worst things to say. 

Mathew would be lying if he’d say he hasn’t thought about you (or doing you) for the past week of not being around home. But he definitely wouldn’t deny that the roadie kind of made things easier for him because then he didn’t have to stomach seeing you walk around the flat looking like the hot piece of ass that you were in his eyes. 

Mat knows he needs to pull his shit together. He wasn’t some 13 year-old boy raging with hormones. He needs to control himself around you and he could only do that once he learns how to push this whole thing between the two of you behind him. 

What happened with you and Mathew shouldn’t have happened at all. It was just a moment of weakness, and he hated that he’d let his dick (and apparently, him being one) ruin the relationship he once had with you. 

Before that night, seeing you do yoga and work out on the terrace was just seeing you drenched in sweat, and in your work out clothes looking icky and constipated. Something he’ll later on tease you about and he’ll end up catching the water bottle you throw in his face. But now, after all that fucking, seeing you sweaty and all worked out in the same yoga pants is just like walking into a porn commercial. Like the ones they show before the actual porn. In fact, he doesn’t even have to watch any of it. Tents and Boners were pretty much sponsored by you from then on. It’s sick, and he knows it. 

However, the tension he feels with you is palpable that he’s even certain that you feel it too. But how can he be wrong? He sees how your eyes blink a few times when he’s fresh out the shower, he sees you follow his trance when you thought he wasn’t paying attention, and you never fail to slide him shadowed hints with every touch you “accidentally” pass at him. The kind that’s short enough to remain innocent but not so much as to keep him at bay. Mat hated everything about it. He hated that he wanted you– and he hated that he thinks he might be right about you wanting him too.

All that self-loathing aside, did he regret it? 

That was one of the things he feels bad about. Because as much as he wants to lie and push it aside, he didn’t regret any of it. He didn’t like you that way and just thought about you sexually but he just wishes that you could push past this and just be friends. He was still sexually attracted to you, yes. But he knows he’d eventually get over it and be back on his game. That is if he can ever find someone who’d be as good as how you were the last three times you’ve let him be with you because it would really help him a lot if he could stop picturing your mouth getting stretched by his cock every time he hops into the shower.

Mat was pulled from his thoughts when he heard a knock on his door. The shy banging sound made his heart beat rapidly in an instant, knowing full well that the two of you were alone in the house and that Tito was, in no way, going to be home for another hour or two.

A faint knock follows the first one before he gets to the door. 

“Hi.” you greet him, a moment unfolding like it was déjà-vu.

“Hi.” 

“Did I wake you?” you sheepishly ask, your hands balled into fists before eventually settling down to hug your own build, unsure of where to put your hands exactly.

Mat quickly shakes his head, “No. I couldn’t sleep myself.”

You offer him a smile, acknowledging how he’s been nothing but good to you ever since they got home. Of course you wanted to get your hands on him being that you were completely dry and horny ever since you’ve ignored him completely, but you haven’t gone mad and you weren’t a complete neanderthal. You can keep your hands to yourself and act like a decent human being. 

“I’m sorry for making things weird between us.” you say, your eyes heavy with guilt. “But I’m only apologizing for being so unreasonable for the last couple of weeks.” you reiterated.

To which he only answers with, “You shouldn’t be. You have every right to be unreasonable– and I know that I’ve been a giant prick that day. It’s what I deserve.” he bites his lower lip, scratching his brow as he continues, “That’s why if there’s someone who owes someone an apology, it should be me. What I did was pretty crappy, so… I’m sorry.”

Like all the other times, Mathew towers over you wearing the same confidence he does when you’re around. Your bodies were reasonably apart from each other but close enough to mean something else if someone had walked by. Mathew was still in his room while you were out in the hallway, separated by the thin line made by the door frame. 

You feel Mat’s steady breathing and everything went still. He looks down at you, pretty eyes drowning yours. His messed up bed hair ridiculously makes up for how dressed down he was. No, actually, he looks fine even when he is. And all of that sight instantly makes your throat dry as you feel something curl in your belly, enough to make your hands sweaty as the thought of tasting his lips again cruised your mind entirely.

Mathew was no stranger to the said feeling either. He watched you punish him more at how plump and inviting your lips were. Or how your hand brushed on your clothes as you remain uncomposed under his gaze. 

Mat was becoming accustomed to how the two of you meet. Same time, same place, only this time, a different hallway. He steps further and crosses the line that divides the two of you, making you take a deep breath as his scent floors every nerve in your body. Waking what has been awake ever since that moment you shared back in the living room even more. 

“Yeah, okay.” you gather yourself, “I– I should probably head back.” 

Just by how his shoulders dropped, you knew you had said the wrong thing. And you hated that you did. Mat clears his voice and swallows, breaking off his gaze, “You probably should.” 

“Good night, Mat.” you smile, trying to regain yourself. 

“Good night.” he replies as he watches you turn your back before finally closing the door behind him. 

Frustrated for he was already starting to feel things more than just being “sorry”, Mat leans against the door and runs a hand through his hair. He takes a deep breath and tries to get you out of his head. 

He was about to walk away from the door and sleep off his frustration when he hears your faint footsteps on the other side of the door. He rests his head back on the wooden surface and sighs, “You’re still out there, aren’t you?”

There was a total silence for a moment, devoid of the knowledge of how you had your fist, ready to knock yet again, suspended in mid-air. 

Mathew hears you deny sheepishly, “No.” 

You hear him let out a small laugh, knowing that he was trying to contain himself. 

The door sprung open again, and for a second you thought how what you’re about to walk into will start another mess for you and Mathew. But how could you possibly think about it that way when you have nothing else but this man standing at the other end? 

A friend that took no seconds to waste as he finally lets his thirst and perhaps foolishness, get the better hold of him once he cages your heated face in his hands, crashing into your lips as fast as he’d taken you to his end of that thin gray line that has once irkingly parted him from you. A gray line you’re both willing to cross if that meant sharing another night in between halls and thin walls.

[plus-size-reader]

Sharing

Billy Loomis x Plus size!reader and Stu Macher x Plus size!reader

Word Count: 1780 words

Warnings: none

Summary: Billy and Stu fighting over you

——————————————————————————————————

The two of them couldn't have been more different.

As a general rule, Billy and Stu had hardly anything in common but that didn’t change the fact that there had never been two closer best friends. They did everything together, and shared quite a bit. 

Though, it wasn’t until you that they realized just how far that went.

You sat beside Stu in algebra, and had gone to school with both Stu and Billy for as long as you could remember. However, you had never really spent much time with them until you agreed to start helping the former with his homework. 

At first, it wasn’t much of a problem for anyone but the more Stu informed his friend that he couldn’t hang out because he was supposed to see you again, the more Billy grew resentful. 

The problem was that he wasn’t sure who he was more jealous of, you or Stu.  

On one hand, his best friend in the entire world was getting to spend all his time with you, but you were also getting to spend a fair amount of your own time with him. 

From where Billy was sitting, the biggest problem was that he wasn’t involved in any step of that process. So, he decided to fix the problem himself. 

...And that was how you ended up between them in the first place. 

You had showed up to the Macher family home after school like you always did on Tuesday evenings with your school bag in hand. However, when the front door opened, the blonde you’d grown used to seeing wasn’t standing there. 

Instead, it was Billy. 

You were shocked, understandably so, especially seeing as you didn't know he would be here but it wasn’t all bad. You didn’t know Billy all that well but Stu talked about him all the time. 

“Hey, I’m supposed to be meeting Stu. Is he here?” you asked, shifting your weight between your two feet as you stood there, under the male’s focused gaze.

You had never realized it before, but Billy was incredibly intimidating, almost as much as he was handsome and you weren’t dealing with the uninterrupted eye contact. 

It was clear that he had something on his mind, something he wanted to say but he chose to ignore it for now. There would be more than enough time to talk about what was on his mind.

Instead, he nodded. “He’s in the kitchen, follow me” he suggested, though there was a demanding tone in his voice. You didn’t even bother to tell him you’d been in the house before. 

All you could do was hold your school bag close to your frame as you entered the house. 

It was empty, like it normally was, as Stu’s parents usually weren't home. They were gone a lot on business trips, they were lawyers you thought, but you couldn’t remember. 

Of all the things you and Stu talked about during your study sessions, his parents weren’t really on the roster. 

“She’s here!” Billy called, glancing over his shoulder to look at you, a small smirk on his lips as he addressed his best friend. You didn’t really know why Billy was here, but they weren’t going to keep you in suspense for much longer. 

See, Billy had a plan. 

In general, the two of them were never apart. Everywhere Billy went, Stu followed. Knowing that, it was easy to assume that he would be jealous of the amount of the blonde’s time you were taking up. 

However, Billy had made a different call. Being jealous of you wasn’t going to do much except drive you away and while that would have been okay, it wasn’t ideal. 

If he went about it the right way, there was a chance he’d get to keep you both. 

It wasn’t a done deal, but if the past was any indication, Billy was pretty good at getting what he wanted. After all, it wasn’t exactly easy to tell him no. 

“Hey! You made it” Stu greeted, wrapping you up in a small hug right after he handed the other male an unopened beer. You had no idea what you were walking into, but you just nodded, accepting the hug. 

It wasn’t like you felt unsafe here, just uneasy.

You didn’t have much experience with Billy at all, but if nothing else, you were sure that Stu wouldn’t let anything sketchy go down. At least, you hoped he wouldn’t. 

“Yeah, I’m still not super sure on that last turn” you shrugged, decidedly throwing yourself into smalltalk instead of making direct eye contact with either of them. 

Had you looked up, you would have had to come to terms with the predatory gaze in Billy’s eyes as he looked you over. You had placed yourself closer to Stu over by the sink, which wasn’t surprising. 

It was no secret that you were more comfortable with him, but Billy was interested in you too and he had an idea. 

“So, what are you two going to work on tonight?” he hummed, his eyes softening ever so slightly as he looked between you, though you could still see how tight his jaw was while he waited for an answer.

Math.

That should have been the answer, but for some reason with Billy staring deep into your eyes, and Stu standing so close, your lips couldn’t form the words. 

It was strange.

You had never felt this was before, but there was just something about the two of them. Billy was magnetic, and Stu seemed to feed off of his energy which brought a new side out of him that you’d never seen. 

You couldn’t put your finger on it, but you just couldn’t look away from Billy’s sterling gaze. Instead, you tried to clear your throat, taking a sip of the glass of water Stu had gotten you when you informed him you didn’t want to drink.

After all, you had come here to do a job but it seemed like there was no job to be done here tonight. 

“Y/N? You alright?” Stu hummed, watching the way your eyes kept tabs on Billy out of the corner of your eye. You were clearly feeling something, but he wasn’t sure what it was.

The blonde was a bit worried at first, mostly because he didn’t know how Billy would react. He knew that the other male could be protective, so he’d either get violent with you, or leave in a huff. 

From where he was, it could go either way.

However, when Stu looked at Billy for some kind of clue as to what he was thinking, he only winked. “Yeah Y/N, you feeling okay?” he grinned, setting his beer down on the island. 

You hardly had a second to think before he was standing in front of you, with hardly any space between your two bodies. Without even meaning to, you practically gasped.

You couldn’t help yourself. 

No matter what you thought you were feeling, or where Stu thought this might go at first, there was no misreading what he had in mind. You didn’t get hit on a ton, but you weren’t blind.

It would have been impossible to misunderstand his intentions. 

“I’m okay, I think” you tried, doing your best to maintain your composure, even though the tension in the air was thick enough to cut with a knife. 

In fact, if you hadn’t been standing here yourself, there was no way you could be sure that it was really happening. 

That response was more than Billy had been expecting, but nonetheless, it did serve to amuse him. You were hilarious, in the most innocent of ways. 

“We don’t scare you, do we Y/N?” He wondered, gingerly letting his fingers gloss over the skin of your jaw. 

There was something so predatory and strange about the way he addressed you, but it wasn’t entirely unwelcome. If nothing else, it just made you think about him in a way that you never had.

“No, of course not” you allowed, they didn’t. However, you couldn’t help but feel uncomfortable under his burning gaze, so you instead chose to look at Stu over your shoulder. 

Even with his own grin, the blonde could never be as intimidating as Billy was. 

“Good, because we had a bit of a chat before you got here” Billy started, leaning back against the counter, his eyes never leaving yours. 

Evidently, they had been talking about you quite a bit before you got there, but you had no inkling of that until he spoke again. “See, Stu here’s got quite the crush on you” he smiled, gesturing to the other male at his side. 

You had no idea where this was going before but at least there was a bit of context now. Though, you couldn’t say you were any less confused than you’d been before. 

The words he’d stated weren’t exactly surprising to you, as you’d gathered that much in all the time you’d been spending time together. However, that didn’t stop you from looking at him as well. 

It just seemed like the only thing to do right now, and it was still better than having to look Billy in the eye. 

“Now, I had to decide what to do about that, and I think we’ve come up with a solution” he allowed, smirking at you as he spoke. He could practically see the wheels turning in your head. 

It hadn’t clicked yet. 

“A solution?” You repeated, trying to keep up. However, before you could get an answer from the male, Stu stepped in to answer you instead. 

“Billy thinks we should share” he grinned, unsure of how this would go down. When Billy first brought it up, he was sure that you’d say no but seeing you now, he wasn’t sure. 

It would be ideal. 

If you were in a mutual relationship, Billy would have no reason to get so jealous over you, and he could be honest about how he felt for you to begin with. 

Really, Stu couldn’t have come up with a better solution for the problem they’d been having. 

“Share?” you repeated again. You were pretty sure that you knew where this was going but you just needed to have them clarify it for you. This wasn’t something you thought you’d be doing today, but it could work.

You liked Stu and you were well aware of the connection the two males shared. What they were proposing could work. 

“Yeah, what do you say gorgeous?” Stu grinned, his goofy charm bringing a smile to your face. 

How could you say no to that?

[dreadwulf]

Thank you! I do have nearly a full chapter of A Simple Twist of Fate ready. I can give you a short excerpt after the cut. 

Jaime walks to the railing and grabs hold of it, gazing out beyond the Keep and into the countryside. 

“Look,” he says, nodding.

She walks closer to the edge, her hands coming to rest on the balustrade. She has spent some time in the Riverlands now, but only passing through, and she has never taken the time to stop and look at something as ordinary as the sunset. It has never occurred to her to do so.

In the dimming afternoon the river seems to slow in its unending rush to a lazy sort of amble, burbling pleasantly under the sounds of night falling. Crickets chirp, locusts call, frogs croak. All around them the Riverlands is singing - birds, insects, even fish probably. Singing down the sun. It is a completely unfamiliar and yet strangely comforting cacophany of sound.

Sunset in the Riverlands. The kind you hear of in songs, or see woven into tapestries. The sun dropped behind the trees paints the sky a spectacular bloody purple, ruby red, fiery gold. The river is a hazy mirror to it, shining back a warm glow that shimmers across the water. 

“It’s lovely,” Brienne says, surprised.  She has lived much of her life beside the sea, and still she has never seen such colors.

Jaime must have seen it before, to bring her here. He had noticed it, the beauty of it. Some other evening, perhaps while she was ill in bed. He had stood in this very spot and seen these colors, listened to its music. And now he has brought her here, so she can see it too.

Something about that touches her deeply. 

They stand there wordlessly, for a time, as the river sings around them.

He speaks up out of nowhere.

“Marcella died too.”

Brienne turns to look at him. He’s staring into the crimson sky, an indescribable expression on his face. He stands as still as a statue, the colors of the setting sun painted on his skin. He is golden and perfect and it hurts to look at him, at the look on his face.

She answers carefully. “I was sorry to hear it.”

“I was there. She died in my arms.”

There is no grief in his voice now. There is just the space where grief belongs, the room in his heart where it lives silently and invisibly. Why it must be undetectable she does not know, but it is very loud, the things he does not say.

He turns his face against the setting sun and the fiery colors seem to grieve for him, painted across his skin.

“I saw Tarth, did I tell you that? We were sailing to Dorne and passed just North of it. Named for the blue of its waters -- they were a beautiful blue, it’s true, and the isle was very lush and green. I wondered how anyone could ever leave such a place.”

She looks at him a little wide-eyed, startled. It feels strangely intimate, knowing that he saw her island. That he looked at it, really looked, and he thought of her.

It wasn’t easy to leave, she begins to say, but she does not want to interrupt him, and sure enough he continues.

“When we returned from Dorne we passed Tarth again, in the night this time. It was just a dark shape in the moonlight, but I stared at it until it was a speck on the horizon. I couldn't sleep. It was that night. Marcella had died only hours before. And I went to the deck and stared at the waves all night long. For a little while, I think I saw things very clearly for the first time.”

There is a hitch in his voice when he continues, something ragged and painful.

“Before she died, I told Marcella that I was her father. I thought she might be shocked or outraged, I was ready for her to react badly. But she didn’t. She wasn’t surprised, half-knew it already. She said...” 

He has to stop then, take a deep breath and close his eyes.

“She said she was proud to have me as her father. Only minutes later she was dead.”

She slides closer to him, instinctively. Without opening his eyes he gestures for her to keep her distance. 

“So then. Later. I was standing at the prow of the ship and looking at the waves and I realized I didn’t want to go back to King’s Landing. I didn’t want to see Cersei. I didn’t want anything to do with my life and the nightmare it had become. And then I saw Tarth, and I thought, what if I asked the captain to stop us there? What if I jumped over the side of the ship and swam to that shore? What if I sat down on the beach and let the ship go on without me and bear my daughter’s body back to Kings Landing and let them tell Cersei I had drowned? It was a silly, irresponsible fantasy and I enjoyed it very much.”

Her heart aches for him.

“What would you do there?” she asks him, so softly.

“I thought about that. I could probably sell the gold hand to a blacksmith, get a little bit of money, and buy a little house. Find some sort of trade. Do they need mercenaries on Tarth? Perhaps I could be a quartermaster. I didn’t think it out very far, honestly. I mainly thought I could sit on the beach and look at the sapphire water.”

Brienne smiles. “I did a great deal of that myself, when I lived there.”

“I would probably have met your father eventually. We had exchanged letters before, if you remember. The ransom letter from Harrenhal, and another besides, when you left King’s Landing. He wrote to me and asked if I knew where you were.”

She sighs. “I never write as often as he would like. It never seems like a good time.”

“I thought he might be well-dispositioned to me for that, for letting him know you were well. If he found me on his island he might not be inclined to tell the Queen he had found me. I might have gone to him directly and asked for his discretion.”

“He would have given it,” she says. “But you would have quickly bored of Tarth. It is a small island, and without excitement.”

“I have had all the excitement I need,” he says, with a hint of a smile. “There has been yet more excitement since. I ought to have done it, I think. I wonder what might have happened, if I had? The Kingslayer dead at sea, and a new woodsman on Tarth. Maybe I’d have learned something useful by now.  Maybe Cersei would not have stirred the Faith, without me to help her in it. Perhaps Tommen would still be alive. Who knows? It certainly would not have been any worse than this.”  

Brienne takes his hand. Clumsily, uncertainly, and before she can talk herself out of it.

She expects he will pull away. But no, he threads his fingers with hers, holding on, and at once it is completely natural and good. 

"If I had run away,” he adds, “I might not have seen you again. I wouldn’t have been here at Riverrun when you came. That I would regret. I would not have missed that for the world.”

“Neither would I,” she tells him. Despite her injury, her imprisonment, and that they are parting yet again to an uncertain fate, the thought of not having this time with him is unbearable. She would not trade these days for anything.

They go on watching the sunset, the Riverlands settling into a peaceful hum around them, holding hands.

[cerastes]

Not all I have to say regarding Under TIDES, but a few things I want to get off my chest immediately because I’m hype as hell right now for cool new lore, character building and worldbuilding (SPOILERS, OF COURSE):

Gladiia is in fact Specter’s Captain in the Abyssal Hunters.

Skadi cares so, so much for Specter. There were a number of theories about why this could be but this event more or less heavily hints towards the least complicated one: They were girlfriends very close in the past.

Skadi was not in the same division as Gladiia and Specter.

Skadi remembers and doesn’t particularly like Gladiia.

Skadi has hardcore Survivor’s Guilt and is convinced she gets people killed around her due to a curse.

We meet Old Jose, Skadi’s old bounty hunter partner and friend. He had kept on him her red dress and lyre, which he returns to her.

Skadi was a bounty hunter because she figured that if her ‘curse’ that got everyone around her killed was to follow her forever, she might as well live among who she considered to be the worst kind of people... Thought process that changed due to friends she made, like Old Jose, bounty hunter and good person, hence why she also becomes a lone wolf bounty hunter.

Skadi likes Rhodes Island a lot.

Skadi is a good singer and plays the lyre really well but doesn’t like to do it in front of others, saying she needs “a proper stage”. It’s understandable, since song probably has rather intimate connotations for Abyssal Hunters.

Abyssal Hunters can indeed sense each other. They refer to it as using their ‘nose’, mainly due to them ‘smelling sea water’ when in proximity to one another, but it goes beyond mere smell. Skadi, for example, senses Specter as a combination of both seawater smell and a gentle song she can hear. On the other hand, Skadi senses Gladiia as colder seawater than Specter and an old song.

Gladiia’s real name is Gla-dia, Skadi’s real name is Isha-mla, we do not know Specter’s real name.

Specter’s spinal cord is so unbelievably, extremely infected that, if used wrong, it could infect a whole country for starters. The fact that she’s not gone fully insane and that she’s even alive at all is credited to just how ungodly tough she is and her natural regenerative abilities.

Specter is VERY coveted due to her spinal cord, including by the Church of The Abyss (which would require another post to explain it).

Skadi points out that Specter is much weaker than how she was before due to how badly Oripathy has ravaged her body. Gladiia initially says that’s nonsense, as Hunters don’t become weak, but then realizes that Hunters never dealt with Landborn diseases before. Gladiia then says that’s not an issue, however, since Specter is also a phenomenal fighter and more than makes up for it.

Gladiia herself is far colder and far more pragmatic than Skadi and Specter, but not heartless.

We actually see Lucid, Not Insane Specter! She’s kind of a good natured shitter and likes to joke around. Apparently, the permanent smile she wears normally as Insane!Specter is actually a remnant of her having a rather cheerful personality in general. She, in fact, smiles most of the time when lucid.

Lucid!Specter awakened when Skadi threw her buzzsaw at her and screamed that she needed her help right this second, to which Specter reacted by shoving her whole arm through her containment tank, breaking it, catching the buzzsaw, looking down on their enemy at the moment, smiling, and saying something to the effect of “You are SO fucked right now”.

Specter calls Gladiia “Swordfish”, which Gladiia apparently just came to accept after failing to dissuade her from using the nickname.

Specter considers both Gladiia and Skadi her friends and expressed to be very happy to “see them again, after so long”.

One of the first things Lucid!Specter does is complain about Rhodes Island food jgiw4gji4. “Swordfish, can you BELIEVE they don’t eat or prepare seaweed meals at all in Rhodes Island? It’s beyond barbaric! And Skadi doesn’t say anything!”

Skadi, Specter and Gladiia have a lot of banter, which hasn’t been translated yet but translators say it’s really good.

Kal’tsit’s intent and dynamic with Specter is finally cleared: They are quite friendly with each other when Specter’s lucid, it is not clear if they are also old friends, and Kal’tsit tells Specter to enjoy whatever time of sanity she has left, because there’s no guarantee she won’t relapse, but even if she does, to never lose hope and keep fighting: They don’t have the technology to cure Specter now, Kal’tsit explains, but that doesn’t discount the future, and that she’ll never give up on her.

Likewise, Kal’tsit gives Skadi some encouraging words regarding the next part:

OKAY I’M PUTTING THIS ONE DOWN HERE IN THE LIST IN CASE ANYONE ACCIDENTALLY CLICKED OR IN CASE READ MORE DOESN’T WORK OR SOMETHING BECAUSE THIS ONE IS HUGE: Abyssal Hunters are very much like Bloodborne Hunters, that is, they are not truly Aegir, but rather, a mix between Aegir and Sea Monsters. Abyssal Hunters are weapons created by the Aegir with parts of Sea Monsters to combat Sea Monsters, hence how different they are even from the already very different Aegirs we know of like Thorns and Weedy. Just like Hunters in Bloodborne, Abyssal Hunters are reviled by Aegirs, because even though they created them and the Hunters defend them, they are still part Sea Monster and too different.

And just like Hunters, Abyssal Hunters are fated to one day turn into Sea Monsters, a la Cleric Beast. Skadi’s sister apparently turned into a Sea Monster long ago and had to be killed (apparently Gladiia did the deed, not sure). Skadi’s mom apparently also turned.

SKADI DIDN’T TAKE THE NEWS WELL BECAUSE SHE DIDN’T KNOW.

She absolutely broke. Like, convulsing and shit, over these news. Existential crisis WOOOO.

I won’t explain how that is handled though that’s another post in itself.

The thing is, Sea Monsters seek to kill Abyssal Hunters because they think they are helping them: Sea Monsters perceive Abyssal Hunters as their kin trapped in the skin of Aegirians, so they cut them open to free their brothers and sisters. They are, in a way, correct.

Holy SHIT DUDE.