#Alcohol misery case

[waitimcomingtoo]

Meet Me Behind The Mall

Pairing: shy!Peter Parker x popular!Reader

Synopsis: after getting ditched by your friends, you spend a day with Peter in the mall, who’s secret you recently figured out

Masterlist

In his peripheral vision, Peter could see a tiny piece of paper being pushed onto his side of the lab table. He curiously looked at it, then up at you. You nodded your head towards the note so Peter unfolded it.

“What’s the answer to number 7?” The note read. Peter glanced up at the professor before scribbling down the answer and passing the note back to you. You read his response and circled the correct answer. A few seconds passed when another note was passed across the table. Peter picked it up and opened it to reveal three hearts drawn around the words “thank u!”. Peter felt his face flush and looked over at you again. You gave him a thumbs up before going up to hand in your test.

After class, you caught up with Peter in the hallway and put your hand on his shoulder to stop him.

“Thank you so much for helping me in there. I counted up all the answers I was confident I got right and it wasn’t enough to get a pass. I just don’t get this unit.”

“You’re welcome.” Was all Peter could say. He thought about offering to tutor you or telling you he also struggled with the topic, but he felt too shy to get anything more out than a cordial response.

“I bet you did really well. You always do. God, I wish I was as good at science as you are. It’s just never come naturally to me. How do you always know the answer?” You asked him as you continued to walk together.

“Oh, I don’t know.” He shrugged and immediately scrunched his face in embarrassment. He wished he could be better at conversing with you, especially since you were always so nice to him. He saw a pack of your friends coming down the hallway and they waved you over, putting your conversation out of it’s misery.

“Bye, Peter. I’ll see you next class. Have a good weekend.” You waved to him as you ran to catch up with your large group of friends. He knew he should return the sentiment but instead stayed silent and gave you a pathetic wave back.

That night, the cheap alcohol of the frat party didn’t sit well with you so you headed home early. You were a pretty far walk from your dorm but felt too nauseas to get into a car. Instead, you started walking home and let the cold New York air calm you down.

“Where are you going, gorgeous?”

You felt panic drop in your stomach at the sound of a man’s voice somewhere in the darkness but kept walking to your dorm. The sound of footsteps behind you picked up behind you so you quickened your pace. You could still hear music coming from the party you had left so you knew people were nearby if worst came to worst.

“Hey. I’m talking to you. Where are you going?”The man asked as he caught up to you and walked beside you. You ignored him and tugged your jacket tighter around your body. He suddenly took you by the elbow and you froze in fear.

“Come on. Don’t be rude. Just give me a smile and I’ll leave you alone.” The man said with a sickening smile as he tried to get you to look at him.

“Please. I’ll give you whatever you want from my bag. Just leave me alone.” You pleaded and moved away from him. He snatched your purse from your hands and started to rummage through it.

“What the hell is this? This is just full of receipts.” He grimaced in disgust and pulled out a handful of crumbled receipts.

“I don’t want to throw them out in case I need to return something one day.” You said meekly.

“Do you even have a wallet? All I’m finding is lip gloss.” The man said as he picked up five different lip products from the bottom of your bag.

“Oh, I’m sorry you didn’t find a better person to rob.” You scoffed sarcastically. The man looked up at you with a primal look in his eyes.

“Oh, you think you’re funny? I don’t like girls who think they’re funny.” He said and gripped your elbow again. You tried to pull away but he was too strong. Before you could tell him to let to, Spiderman dropped down next to you. You cracked a smile at the sight of him and let out a sigh of relief.

“Sir, I hate to be the one to tell you this but that purse does not to with that outfit.” Peter sassed and moved his hands in dramatic exasperation.

“Huh?” The guy said and let go of you.

“Now, you better not have left a bruise on this lovely lady’s elbows or you and I are gonna have a serious problem.” Peter warned as he shot a web at the guys pants. He yanked them down and the man’s jeans fell to his ankles.

“Hm. I did not peg you for a boxers guy. Your whole vibe screams “Fruit of the Loom” tighty whities. Yet now I stand corrected.” Peter said as he tilted his head to the side. You covered your mouth and let out a laugh, making the man grow angry. He went to lunge at Peter but tripped over his dropped pants.

“Uh oh. Someone’s angry. Maybe your whities are a little too tighty.” Peter commented as he pinched his fingers together. You laughed again as Peter shot a web at your purse.

“I’ll take that.” He quipped and yanked the purse out of the man’s hands.

“Thank you!” Peter said politely as he caught your purse.

“Hey!” The man shouted.

“Hey?” Peter laughed. “You’re yelling at me like it’s yours.”

The man tried to lunge at Peter again and ended up falling flat on his face. Peter took that as his cue to wrap an arm around you and pick you up to swing you to safety. He landed a few blocks away and carefully put you down. You stared at him through the mask as he put you down, your faces just inches apart. Peter gulped and felt his entire face go red beneath the mask.

“Thank you, Spiderman.” You smiled softly at him as you slowly withdrew your arm from around his neck.

“You’re very welcome, miss. I believe this belongs to you.” He said as he put your purse back into your hands. Your eyebrows knit together suddenly in confusion and you let out a short laugh.

“Wait, Peter?” You asked, making Peter’s heart drop.

“Uh, what?” He gulped. “Who’s that? I’m your friendly neighbor Spiderman.”

“Right. Sorry. You sound just like this guy in my chemistry class.” You laughed and shook your head. Peter felt his blush spread all the way to his ears over you recognizing the sound of his voice. You ran in different circles at school, you being apart of the popular group of girls and him belonging to a small group of local nerds. That being said, your ever present kindness towards him left him to develop a small crush on you.

“Oh. Well, that’s not me. But he sounds really handsome.” Peter replied, making you laugh again.

“He is.” You nodded without an ounce of sarcasm in your voice. This piked his curiosity and he leaned in a little.

“He is?” He asked.

“Oh, yeah. Absolutely.” You nodded. “In a hot nerd kind of way. Like Spencer Reid. But kinda short. Which I’m not sure why I’m telling you now that I hear myself.”

“It’s okay. I like that show too.” He chuckled shyly. “He sounds really cool.”

“He is really cool. At least, I think he is. But I’m not really sure. Everytime I try to talk to him, he looks away.” You sighed like you were disappointed. Peter realized you were a little drunk and probably didn’t know what you were saying. Even if that was the case, it was still nice to hear.

“Maybe he’s just shy. And doesn’t know how to look pretty girls in the eye.” Peter said as he kicked a rock around with his foot.

“That’s a shame.” You smiled sadly. “Because I think he and I could be friends if he ever learned to look at me.”

Peter stopped messing with the rock and looked up at you. There was a smallness to you tonight that shone through your party dress and heavy makeup. Your typically bright hand bubbly demeanor was cloudy by something you weren’t telling him.

“Maybe he’ll start.” He told you.

“I hope so.“ You answered honestly. “He seems nice. I could use a friend like him.”

Standing under that streetlight, Peter noticed a sadness to you for the first time. You were usually in a circle of friends all wearing smiles but right now, you seemed completely alone down to your bones.

“So how was your night?” He asked in a quiet voice. You stared off into the distance as your eyes brimmed with tears suddenly.

“Do you ever feel completely alone despite being in a room full of people you know?” You asked him.

“I do, actually. All the time.” He answered. You looked at him and smiled sadly.

“Do really, Spiderman?” You asked with hope in your voice. It wasn’t that you wanted him to feel alone. You just wanted to know you weren’t the only one who felt that way.

“I do. Is that how you felt tonight?”

“I don’t know. I guess. Sometimes I make jokes and my friends all look at each other. And they all make this face as if they’re thinking the same thing. And what they’re thinking is that I’m a freakish alien who they’re embarrassed to know. That’s how I felt tonight.”

“Well that’s no fun. And you’re not a freakish alien. You’re very funny.”

“And you know that because you’re the cute guy in my chemistry class?” You asked with a hopeful smile.

“I’m not him. I’m just guessing that you’re funny. So maybe you are an alien. I don’t know. This is our first time meeting.”

“Right.” You rolled your eyes. “So how do you think you did on the last test? I actually feel pretty confident.”

“I don’t know because I didn’t take any test because I’m not the guy in your chemistry class. Now can I walk you home? It’s freezing out here and I have no jacket to offer you.”

“Sure, thanks. I’m this way.” You said and pointed in the direction of your dorm. Peter placed a hand on the small of your back and guided you towards your dorm.

“You should get a friend to walk with you next time you leave a party. It’s not safe to be out here by yourself. Especially with guys like that going around snatching purses.”

“I know. I asked my friends but they weren’t ready to leave yet.” You shrugged.

“And they let you walk home alone? Drunk? Sounds like you need some new friends.” Peter joked but you nodded in agreement.

“I know. But you know how friends can be. They still wanted to party. Why should I be their problem?” You shrugged again, making Peter frown.

“It’s not a problem to look out for you.” He said simply.

“That’s easy for you to say. You look out for everyone. It’s your job.” You reminded him.

“I’m not just saying that because of my job. It wouldn’t be a burden to take care of you no matter who I was.” Peter replied, making you stop walking. He looked at you and you looked that you had been waiting your whole life to hear what he had just said.

“Thank you.” You said with a fond smile.

“You’re very welcome.” Peter replied in an equally soft voice. You kept walking in comfortable silence until you reached the girls dorm.

“This is my dorm.” You told him. Thanks again for walking me home. And getting my purse back for me.”

“Anytime.”He nodded. “I just hope it doesn’t happen again. But if it did, you know.”

“You’d be here.” You finished his sentence.

“Exactly.” He smiled. “You can count on it.”

You couldn’t see the smile under his mask but you knew it was there. You held up your purse to show him that you had it before walking up a few of your dorm steps.

“See you at school?” You asked him.

“Don’t think so.” Peter chuckled. You squinted your eyes as if you didn’t believe him but eventually shrugged.

“That’s too bad. Good night.” You waved to him and walked the rest of the way up the stairs.

“Good night.” He called after you.

Once Monday came, you were determined to talk to Peter. You didn’t have chemistry that day so you’d have to find him elsewhere on campus. You knew he usually hung out in the library so you went there to check. Sure enough, he was at a table with his friends Ned and Miles.

“Hey, Peter.” You greeted as you walked up to him.

“H-hi.” He stammered. “What are you? I mean, how are you up? I mean, how are you? What’s up?”

“There we go.” Ned nodded. “I knew he’d get there eventually.”

“I’m good.” You replied. “How are you doing?”

“Ooo. Is this your girlfriend from chemistry class?” Miles asked as his raised his eyebrows suggestively.

“Is that what you told them?” You smiled in surprise as you looked at Peter.

“No. I didn’t. I swear.“ He assured you as his entire face went red.

“He did show us the note you gave him.” Ned told you.

“Oh yeah. Three hearts. I didn’t realize you guys were so serious.” Miles teased Peter as he gave his friends a look that begged them to stop.

“I never said she was my girlfriend.” Peter whispered harshly to them. You could tell he was getting embarrassed so you played along to save him. You frowned and ran your fingers through his hair before letting your hand rest on his cheek.

“What? You didn’t tell them about us, baby?” You asked and titled your head to the side. Miles and Ned’s made surprised faces as Peters entire face went red.

“W-what?” Peter sputtered out.

“I’m messing with you.” You smiled. “But I do need to talk to you.”

“Oh, uh, okay. Sure.” Peter said and moved his bag so you could sit down. You looked at Miles and Ned and smiled timidly.

“Privately.” You clarified. Miles and Ned “oooo”ed as you walked away from their table and went into the hall.

“Dude, follow her.” Ned told him and pushed Peter up from the table. Peter nervously fixed his hair and got up to follow you.

“What’s up?” He asked once you were alone. You looked around to see who was watching before stepping closer to him.

“I just wanted to thank for getting my purse back for me. It’s my favorite bag. And my favorite lip combo was in there. You really saved me.” You said and squeezed his arm in appreciation.

“Oh, you’re welcome. Anytime.” Peter said waved his hand like it was no big deal. Your lips curved into a wicked smile and Peter realized his mistake.

“Shit.” He whispered as you jumped up and down and clapped your hands.

“I knew it!” You whispered. “I knew that was your voice!”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” He said quickly.

“Yes you do.” You grinned and poked him in the chest.

“I really don’t.” He shrugged but he knew he was caught.

“Then why are you so flustered right now?” You folded your arms to ask him. Peter touched his burning cheek and debated telling you his face always did that around you.

“I’m not.” He lied.

“Your face is hot.” You pointed out as you touched a cold hand to his cheek.

“Psht. Your face is hot.” He scoffed and pushed your hand away.

“Thank you.” You said pointedly. “But you and I both know that I figured out your little secret. There’s no point in denying it now.”

“I don’t have any secrets. So you don’t know anything.”

“Come on, Peter.” You whined. “I’ve been waiting all weekend to tell you that I know. I wanted to text you but I don’t have your number and I couldn’t find you on Instagram. You have one, don’t you?”

“I’m not on social media.” He told you.

“Okay. That’s serial killer behavior but I’m willing to look past it if you confirm my suspicions.” You said and excitedly drummed your fingers on your chin.

“I’m not Spiderman. So I cannot confirm your suspicions.” He whispered for only you to hear. You smirked a little before shrugging.

“I guess you can’t.” You sighed. “It’s weird though, right?”

“What’s weird?” He wondered.

“That I never said you were Spiderman. I just thanked you for getting my purse.” You said with a coy smile. Peter hung his head in shame as he confirmed to you for the second time that he was in fact Spiderman.

“I knew it! I knew it was you. I even recognized the way you walk.” You said proudly.

“What do you know about the way I walk?” He asked with a shy smile.

“You walk really stiff like you’re holding two invisible briefcases.” You explained and demonstrated for him with a near perfect imitation of how he walked.

“What? No I don’t. Oh wait. Yeah, I kinda do.” He realized as he watched you.

“You definitely do. Now can you please just tell me I’m right? I’ve been thinking about it all weekend. I need to hear you tell me I was right.” You begged him as you put your hands on his shoulders. Peter playfully rolled his eyes up to the ceiling and sighed.

“You right.” He mumbled.

“Yes! I knew I was right!” You cheered. ��Everything makes sense now. That’s why you’re always disappearing or yawning or bruised. You’re probably up every night getting girls purses, aren’t you?”

“Not always purses.” He instead. “Sometimes it’s bikes. And one time, a mean chihuahua.”

“Wow.” You said with genuine amazement. “So how long have you been doing this?”

“Since I was 15.”

“15? Damn. I was exhausted from working 4 hours a week at Kohl’s at 15. How do you do it? You must be so tired.” You frowned and rubbed his arm kindly.

“It’s tiring but someone has to do it.” He shrugged. “Just like someone has to hand out Kohl’s cash.”

“Thats true.” You chuckled. “And that’s a very selfless way to look at it.”

“Oh. Thank you.” He smiled shyly. “But please, you can’t tell anyone about this. Nobody else knows.”

“Duh.” You replied. “This is our secret.”

“Yeah. Ours.” He smiled and felt his face heat up at the mention of something belonging to only the two of you. Your moment was cut short by one of your friends coming up to you and completely disregarding Peter.

“Hey, girl. I need your notes from class today.” She said to you.

“Oh, sure. How come you weren’t there?” You asked her.

“Liz and I went got coffee instead.” She replied. Peter could tell you were hurt they didn’t ask you to come get coffee but you just smiled and nodded.

“I’ll text them to you.” You told her.

“Thanks. Let’s go to the library. I need you to look at my English paper and tell me if it’s good.” She said and nodded towards the library. You looked at Peter and gave him an apologetic smile.

“Bye, Peter. I’ll talk to you later, okay?” You told him before leaving with your friend.

“Why were you talking to that lesbian?” Your friend asked you as you walked away.

“That wasn’t a lesbian. That was my friend Peter.” He heard you tell her before going into the library. He watched you disappear and let out a little sigh. He knew he was going to over analyze that entire conversation for probably the rest of his life, or at least until the next time you spoke.

That weekend, Peter headed to the mall a few blocks from campus to do some wandering by himself since Ned was busying. He did a little shopping before taking a seat on the mall fountain to check his texts. He was so engrossed in his phone that he didn’t notice you walk up to him.

“Well, well, well.” You chuckled, making him look up at you and blush.

“It’s a fountain, actually.” Peter deadpanned, making you crack a smile.

“You’re stupid. Move over.” You laughed and sat beside him. Your knees were touching which made Peters face warm up the way it always seemed to around you.

“Should I be worried? I’m starting to think you might be stalking me.” He teased you.

“Excuse me? I was just walking around and saw you. You’re the one who keeps ending up placed I’m already in.”

“Sounds like something a stalker would say.” He said out of the corner of his mouth.

“You wish I was your stalker. Now come on, give me the haul. What did you buy?” You asked him and nodded towards his bag.

“Socks and boxers.” He smiled proudly and held up his items.

“Oh shit. You did not come to play.”

“I really didn’t.” He played along, making you laugh again. You stared at him for a minute with a fond smile and he stared back with a matching one.

“What?” He wondered.

“You’re talking to me.”

“So?” He laughed shyly. “You’re talking to me.”

“No, I mean, like. Full eye contact. And full sentences. Who is this man? I’ve been waiting to meet him forever.” You teased him and he playfully rolled his eyes.

“I guess it’s easier to talk to you now that you know my secret. You’re not as scary anymore.”

“I was scary before?” You gasped and pretended to be offended.

“Yes. Girls like you are very terrifying to me.”

“Girls like me?” You smiled coyly.

“Pretty girls who are nice to me. I really wish you were a giant snake or the multi-bear from Gravity Falls or something. That’s way less scary.” He insisted.

“You’d rather talk to the multi-bear than me?”You scoffed. “I have half a mind to forget about you and go stalk some other guy.”

“No, please. Stay. I forgot how awkward it is to shop alone and I still need to get a belt.” He pretended to beg and put a hand on your leg to get you to stay. You looked at the hand on your leg and cracked a smile at the unexpected contact from him.

“Well I would never abandon a man on a belt quest.” You replied, making him laugh.

“Thank you. What about you? What are you looking for?”

He could have said “shopping for” but that’s not what he meant. He wanted to know what you were looking for. You cracked a smile as if you understood what he was asking.

“Better friends, actually. Have you seen any?” You asked with a playful but sad smile.

“I just saw your friends in H&M.” He told you and pointed to the store. You shrugged a little and shook your head.

“Yeah. I saw them too. After they all told me they were busy today and couldn’t hang out.” You admitted without looking at him. Peter frowned and moved closer to you.

“They came here without you?”

“I asked them to hang out. They all said they couldn’t. But now I’m getting a sneaking suspicion there’s a second group chat that I’m not in.” You laughed but he knew it was fake.

“I’m sorry.” He said quietly.

“I came here to cheer myself up and ended up feeling 200 times worse when I saw them all hanging out without me. I didn’t even say anything to them because I didn’t want them to feel bad for not inviting me. Not that they ever care when they make me feel bad.” You laughed again but it ended up in a sigh. You stared at your shoes for a second and Peter stayed silent.

“Girls suck.” You said after a beat. “Not always, of course, but when they suck, they really suck. They know how painful it can be to be the only one left out. But they still did it to me. I don’t understand why.”

“Neither do I. I thought those girls were your friends?”

“I don’t know. I kinda saw this coming.” You admitted. “I started to notice that I was always the one texting first. And always the one trying to make plans. And when they did text me, they were asking me for something. It was never just to check in on me.”

“That’s really hurtful. I’m sorry. I’ve been there too. It sucks when you realize that if you stopped reaching out to someone, you’d probably never speak again.” Peter replied, making you smile sadly at him.

“Exactly. Or when you wonder how long it would take them to notice if you stopped reaching out. And worse, wonder if they’d notice at all.”

“No one deserves to feel that way. Especially not someone as kind and considerate as you. You really do need new friends.” He nodded in agreement, making you genuinely laugh this time.

“We’re friends, right? Because I know your secret.”

“We can be friends.” Peter nodded, bringing a smile out of you.

“Thanks.” You told him and gave his shoulder a rub. Peter felt a sudden burst of confidence and decided to keep the momentum he had built.

“You’re probably gonna say no to this, but Ned and I were gonna get sandwiches and then build legos together tomorrow. You can come, if you’d like.”

“That’s okay. You don’t have to give me a pity invite to your sandwich and Lego party.” You told him.

“It’s not a pity invite. I want you to be there. It would make me happy to have you around.” Peter answered, making you smile once again. It was the simple change from “you can come” to “I wanted you to be there” that made all the difference.

“Do you want to hang out with me today?” You asked him.

“Yeah. I do.” He said immediately. You stood up and held out your hand for him to take.

“Come on. Let’s go look at the home decor.”

Peter took your hand and let you pull him towards the home decor store in the mall. He awkwardly ran ahead of you so that he could open the door for you but it was worth it when he saw you smiling.

“Thank you.” You said curtly and walked inside. He followed you around the store like a puppy dog and listened to your commentary on the various throw pillows and wall art as if it was words from a prophet.

“This would be perfect for you.” You gasped and held up an old Halloween pillow that had a sequenced spiderweb on it along with a spider made up of mostly fallen off beads.

“Is my job a joke to you?” He laughed and flicked the pillow.

“I mean, I did see some funny videos of you online. How often do you miss your webs and fall into bushes?”

“Bushes are rare, actually. It’s usually car hoods and hot dog stands.” He admitted.

“Ouch.” You grimaced. “Doesn’t that hurt?”

“No. Hot dog stands are really soft.” He said seriously. You laughed and kept walking down the aisles of the store.

“I love that I’m the only one that knows this about you.” You told him.

“You really do, don’t you?” He realized with an amused smile.

“Well, yeah. I always knew there was something about you and learning this vindicated me so hard.”

“Something about me? What do you mean?”

“I don’t know. You’re so allusive.” You shrugged. “Always disappearing and reappearing from places. Not on any sports teams but will never miss when throwing something into the trash from across the room. Knows all the answers in chemistry but never raises his hand. Ripped but hides it under Catholic school boy sweaters. I always wondered about you. Now I know.”

“Wow. You pick up on a lot of details. Nobody’s ever really noticed me like that.” Peter said as he looked at the ground so you wouldn’t see how flustered that made him.

“That you know of.” You corrected. “Because I noticed you a long time ago and you had no idea until now.”

“I notice you too.” He said as he looked into your eyes. You smiled at the eye contact and stayed looking at him.

“So, uh, were you just messing with me when you told Spiderman that you thought I was, you know.”

“A hot nerd?”

“Yeah. That.” He laughed shyly.

“I wasn’t messing with you.” You shrugged. “Or him. Either of you. I meant what I said.”

“So did I. I really don’t know how to talk to pretty girls.”

“We’re just regular people. Aside from our razor sharp teeth and detachable feet.”

“Why would you need to detach your feet?” He laughed.

“I don’t know but I used to have these dolls when I was younger where you’d yank their whole foot off to change their shoes. And they’d just have a little nub until you put new feet on them. God forbid you lose one of their shoes. Then they have no feet and had to walk around my dollhouse with nubs”.

“To be a woman is to perform.” He nodded along.

“Shut up.” You laughed and kept walking down the aisles of the store. You ended up buy some statue of an animal that you mentioned your mom liked to collect and Peter carried your bag for you into the next store.

“So who else knows about this secret? Besides us two.” You asked as you flipped through a clothing rack.

“My best friend. But that’s because he accidentally walked in on me in my suit. And my aunt. Who found out in the exact same way.”

“Sounds like you need to invest in a giant trench coat to cover yourself with when entering and exiting your room.” You told him.

“That’s a really good idea, actually. Do you think they sell those here?” He asked, making you laugh.

“So I was the first to figure it out?”

“You were. And now I’m really hoping it’s not obvious.”

“I wouldn’t say it’s obvious. I’m just very observant.”

“Of everything or just me?” He asked you.

“Just you.” You teased, making him blush again.

“What else have you observed about me?” He wondered.

“A few things, actually. You keep flexing your hand and I’m starting to think you’re working up the nerve to hold mine. That or you’re fighting the urge to punch me so I’m hoping it’s the former. I also observed that you haven’t checked your phone once since I found you and you’re letting me pick all the stores we go into.”

“Wow. And what do your observations tell you?”

“That you like me.” You said simply and continued looking at the clothes.

“What?” Peter sputtered. “No I don’t.”

“Says the boy who got my purse back from a burglar. Classic crush culture right there.” You clicked your tongue and shook your head.

“What?” He laughed. “That is not what I do when I have a crush on a girl. That’s just my job.”

“All right then. So what do you do when you have a crush?”

“Avoid eye contact and hope she likes shy tendencies. And open doors for her, obviously.” Peter said as he opened the door for you into the next store.

“Good to know.” You said and gave him a pleased smile as you passed him. He continued to follow you down the aisles of the store while holding your collection of clothes you wanted to try on.

“So why spiders? I’ve always wondered why you named yourself after arguably the worst bug of all time. Why not something more palatable like Lady Bug Man? Or Moth Man and then you could live under a bridge and spook people?” You asked as you handed him another dress for you to try on.

“It was a spider bite that gave me the abilities, actually. That’s where I got the name.” He explained as you disappeared behind a changing room curtain. You opened it up after a few seconds in one of the dresses you had taken off the rack.

“Really? I never would’ve guessed that. I’m learning so much right now.” You said as you turned around and moved your hair away from your neck. Peter blushed and picked up what you were implying and zipped the dress for you. You turned back around and gave him a grateful smile.

“What else do you want to know?” He asked with a shy smile. He usually categorized himself as shy and never wanting to be the center of attention, but right now he was hoping you had more questions to ask him. He liked being the center of attention when it was your attention he was getting.

“Why red and blue?” You wondered.

“Red for my mom’s red hair and blue for the car my dad drove.” Peter said out loud for the first time.

“Aw, Peter.” You pouted. “That’s really beautiful. I love that.”

“Thank you. I never told anybody that before.” He admitted.

“Hm. Something else just between us, then.” You winked at him before shutting the dressing room curtain again.

When you left that store, Peter opened the door for you on the way out with his free hand and held your bags with his other hand. As you walked through the mall, yours hands kept bumping against each others. It happened so many times in a row that Peter was starting to think he was doing it on purpose.

“You can, you know. If you want to.” You said without looking at him.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” Peter lied as your hands bumped once again.

“Okay. Never mind, then.” You replied and kept walking. Peter decided to do something for once and took your hand. You didn’t say anything but smirked and gave his hand a squeeze. You stayed holding hands as you went to a few more stores and ended up back by the fountain. Through the streams of water, you suddenly spotted the very group of friends that had left you out.

“Oh God. It’s them.” You gasped and stopped short. Peter thought you were going to drop his hand but you didn’t.

“What are you gonna do?” He asked. “I can stick to the wall if that at all helps.”

“Well I’m definitely gonna need to see that at some point but not right now. I need to hide.” You decided and looked around for the nearest exit. During your search, you heard the sound of your friends laughing and it made your stomach drop. You didn’t want to run away anymore and pretend that the things they did didn’t hurt you. They did. And it was time they knew that.

“Actually, no.” You decided. “Why should I hide to make them more comfortable? They did something mean to me. I shouldn’t run away just so they don’t have to face what they did. I should go talk to them.”

“Let’s do it.” Peter agreed and you smiled. You blew out a nervous breath before walking up to the group of girls.

“Hey guys! So glad your schedules freed up.” You greeted them with a friendly smile. They all froze and either looked down at the ground or at you with stunned expressions. You took your time looking at every one of their guilty faces with an unamused expression.

“We were gonna text you.” Liz said quickly.

“Don’t even worry about it.” You told her. “In fact, don’t text me ever again. I deserve friends who include me. Not people who keep me around just in case they need something from me.”

“So what? You’re gonna ditch us to hang out with losers?” Liz scoffed and looked at Peter. You felt bad that Peter had caught a stray but he wasn’t phased.

“You’re the ones who just lost a good friend. And missed out on a fun day at the mall with the coolest girl in New York. So I’m pretty sure that makes you guys the losers.” Peter stated. Everyone, including you, was shocked to hear those words out of the notoriously shy Peter’s mouth. You looked at him and gave him a grateful smile.

“Yeah.” You agreed. “You guys are losers. You all say bad things about each other behind each other’s back and I’m sure you did the same to me so I can’t say I’m gonna miss this friend group. But I do have to thank you for ditching me or else I wouldn’t have found a real friend.”

“Who? This lesbian?” One of the other girls scoffed and gestured to Peter.

“Yeah.” Peter snapped. “This lesbian.“

“Now if you’ll excuse us, Peter needs to find a belt.” You said and walked away with Peter following right behind you. You didn’t drop his hand as you did a half walk half run through the mall as adrenaline rushed through you. Once you were far enough away from them, you stopped running.

“That felt good.” You said through an out of breath laugh.

“For me too.” Peter agreed. “And I was almost entirely uninvolved in that situation.”

“Come on. I wanna do the Photo Booth and immortalize this day.” You said and excitedly pulled him into the Photo Booth. Peter shut the curtain while you picked the boarder for the pictures, purposefully choosing one that had red hearts all over it.

“Okay. We only have five seconds between pictures so you have to pick your poses quickly.” You told him as the countdown began.

“But I’m so awkward. I don’t know how to pose.” Peter said as the countdown dwindled down.

“Just smile and look like you like me.” You said and pressed your cheek against his to smile for the camera. The camera flashed and you slung your arm around him for the next photo. The camera flashed again and Peter gulped.

“I do like you.” He said in a soft voice as he turned to look at you.

You looked at him and leaned in just as the camera flashed. You were still kissing when the fourth and final flash went off but you didn’t care. You pulled Peter closer by his shirt while his hands snaked around your waist. You pushed him away suddenly with a suspicious look on your face.

“Wait, do the webs, like, come out of your butt ever?”

“What? No.” He laughed. “They don’t come out of me at all. I built devices and developed a web fluid to shoot out of them. I don’t actually produce webs.”

“Oh. Okay.” You nodded and pulled him back into a kiss. He kissed you back for a moment before pulling away.

“Wait, would that have been a deal breaker if I did? Produce webs, I mean.” He asked you.

“I mean, I’d still like you but I don’t know if I could date a guy who could physically produce webs in his body. I just think that would really gross me out. Producing webs is I think where I’d have to draw the line.”

“So does that mean you’d date a guy who doesn’t produce webs?” He asked with a hopeful smile.

“Isn’t that every guy?” You pointed out.

“Oh. Yeah. I guess it kinda is.” He realized. “Well, would you date a guy who is far more likely to shoot webs from his butt than the average man? Given his spider themed career path?”

“Well, I don’t know. I never thought about that before.” You pursed your lips and pretended to give it genuine though. Peter playfully rolled his eyes at you and cupped your face to kiss you again.

“What do you think now?” He asked with your face still in his hands.

“I think I would.” You smiled and tugged his shirt to bring him back into a kiss.

Tag List

@thebookwormlife @imanativeofswlondondahling

@tom-hollands-wifey

@whatareyouhidingpeter @takenbyheartstrings

@imyourliquor-youremypoison @andreasworlsboring101

@peterparkoure

@justcallmehitgirl @jackiehollanderr

@emmamarshmellow @unbelievableholland

@sovereignparker @every-marveler-ever @undiadeestos @eridanuswave​ ​

@solarxmoonchild @canyouevencauseicant

@quaksonhehe @lovelessdagger

@thesuitelifeofafangirl @marshxx @nooneinvitedfascistbarbie

@maybemona

@alexxcorona113 @lethal-wisdom

@pandaxnienke

 @officialsimppage @peterbenjiparker @itsemohours

@freakofmusic25 @tomholland85

@olixerwxxd @leilanixx

@whereismytelephone @so-very-asleep @white-wolf1940

@spideyspeaches @hihiweezing

@mathletemadison  

@dhtomholland @insomniac-nerd-posts-things @prancerrparkerr

@hallecarey1 @adayasgeorgia @blackwidowisthebest @imawhoreforu

@ciarahollands

@nellabellaa @pinklxmonade @boogywoogywoogy

[12daysofchristmas]

Join us in the 2024 12 Days of Christmas Challenge as we hope to spread a little ✨holiday joy and cheer✨ through the magic of writing fanfiction & creating art!

About & Rules

The challenge will run from December 13-24, 2024.

The challenge is open to any and all fandoms.

Submissions must include at least one of the prompts for that day but can combine two, three, or all four.

Prompts for the day always include: a word/words, a scenario, a quote, a "famous" quote (taken from songs and movies)

Tag your submissions with #12daysofchristmas2024 and/or mention this blog so that we will be notified to reblog your submissions here. (Also, it would be super cool if you gave this blog a follow!)

Submissions for the day must be posted before midnight YOUR time. We're not super hard-and-fast about this rule, but posting within time is very much appreciated! 

If you’re posting your submission directly on Tumblr (as opposed to linking to an external site such as AO3), you MUST use a “keep reading” cut!

Edit: We're now also allowing ALL KINDS OF ART: drawings, edits, aesthetics, mood boards, videos, podfics, fiber arts... go wild!

!! Absolutely NO AI creations !!

Please format ALL submissions with the following heading:

Title Day/Prompt(s) Fandom/Character(s)/Ship Warnings (if applicable): Word Count/Medium (in case it's art):  Example: Santa, Baby Day 8 - “Prompt(s) for that day” AEW - Adam Page x OC Warnings: Alcohol, cursing, sexual situations (explicit) Word Count: 7,290 or: Medium: fan video

You can also include a summary, gif, edit, whatever you want! Just don’t forget the “keep reading” if you’re posting directly on Tumblr!

2024 Prompts

Day 1 ❄️ First snow ❄️ Getting soaked ❄️ “Your hands are so cold.” ❄️ “I suppose it all started with the snow.” —Frosty the Snowman

Day 2 ❄️ Little lie ❄️ Trapped together in a snowstorm ❄️ “I thought you knew where you were going?!” ❄️ “I don’t know what to say, but it’s Christmas, and we’re all in misery.” —National Lampoon’s Christmas Vacation

Day 3 ❄️ Accelerated heartbeat ❄️ Kissing in the snow ❄️ “Here, take my coat.” ❄️ “Let's hope the snow will make this Christmas right.” —Queen

Day 4 ❄️ Mulled wine ❄️ Playing board games ❄️ “I have no regrets.” ❄️ “Cheer up, dude. It's Christmas.” —How the Grinch Stole Christmas, 2000

Day 5 ❄️ Cookies ❄️ Holiday-themed contest ❄️ “That definitely looks… interesting?” ❄️ “That is exactly why you want a high-quality fire extinguisher right in the kitchen.” —The Santa Clause

Day 6 ❄️ Present ❄️ Making a new Christmas tradition ❄️ “Not another Christmas movie!” ❄️ “You say you hate Washington’s birthday or Thanksgiving, and nobody cares, but you say you hate Christmas, and people treat you like you’re a leper.” —Gremlins

Day 7 ❄️ Decorations ❄️ A little accident ❄️ “I was just trying to help!” ❄️ “I want my house to be seen from space.” —Deck The Halls

Day 8 ❄️ Touch starved ❄️ Telling secrets around the fire ❄️ “Sometimes the hardest part is forgiving yourself.” ❄️ “Santa, can't you hear me?” —Ariana Grande & Kelly Clarkson

Day 9 ❄️ Christmas fair/market ❄️ Late shopping (together) ❄️ “Hmm, this is actually not bad.” ❄️ “When you're still waiting for the snow to fall, doesn't really feel like Christmas at all.” —Coldplay

Day 10 ❄️ Surprise visit ❄️ Lighting scented candles ❄️ “I didn’t know you were here.” ❄️ “You’re skipping Christmas! Isn’t that against the law?” —Christmas with the Kranks

Day 11 ❄️ Fairy lights ❄️ Christmas party/ball ❄️ “I never want this night to end.” ❄️ “I won’t even wish for snow. And I’m just gonna keep on waiting, underneath the mistletoe.” —Mariah Carey

Day 12 ❄️ Feast ❄️ Indoor picnic by the tree/fireplace ❄️ “I baked your favourite cookie/pie/cake.” ❄️ “You are all I need tonight underneath the Christmas lights.” —Sia

Extra Challenge

Angst or fluff, romance or platonic - you're unsure in what direction your fic should go? Spin our

Wheel

and let it decide for you! You can spin it once and write all fics with what comes up, you can spin it daily and change course accordingly, you can spin it as often as you need or not at all - it's all up to you.

Please don’t hesitate to contact us with any questions! Also, feel free to share this post and help spread the joy and cheer!

Happy writing, and good luck 🍀

[avocado-writing]

i'm not a very big chain person, but in my head i can picture so perfectly Logan getting him and his s/o a matching pair of chain necklaces or bracelets to quietly express his love and commitment. because, in comparison to other forms of jewelry, chains are durable- it's hard for a quality chain to break. to him, they signify how the bond you've fostered together is unbreakable too.

if he manages to get them in adamantium, there's the added layer of gifting you something made of the same material as his skeleton. his way of gifting you a part of him, of always being with you... ;-;

He used to wake up to a pounding skull and a truly bitter hatred of the world. A constant stream of alcohol had managed to silence the first issue - or, at least, make it tomorrow Logan’s problem - but had just made the second one far worse. 

He knew he was a mean drunk. Wade never shied away from letting him know what a cunt he was when he was ten drinks deep, but it was easier to face life when he stopped trying to be gracious to it.

The world had never cared about him, so why should he care about it right back?

That was… before, though. Before you. Not exactly some sort of holy light but you’d been damn well close. Someone he’d wanted to get his act together for, try to break free from the cocoon of rot and misery he’d made for himself. 

So, nowadays, he wakes up to soft singing and the smell of frying eggs. 

You’re an earlier riser than he is, slipping out of his grasp somehow - he always tries to grab you and keep you in bed with him, despite your dramatic but insincere protests - and getting a start on your day to make the most of it. You’re so much more of a functional person than he is that it’s laughable (Wade has pointed this out a couple of times, while laughing, and you’d talked him down from giving the merc a claw through the eye). 

He drags himself to his feet and heads into the kitchen. 

The radio is on quietly and you’re half-humming along with it, trying not to be too loud so as not to wake him. You can’t help but sing and secretly it’s one of those little things he fucking loves about you. It’s how he can tell you’re happy, so he never wants you to stop. 

You hear him appear and turn with a smile so bright it outdoes the morning sun. Ahh fuck, and you look amazing. Those short pyjamas that highlight the curve of your ass, those stupid fuzzy slippers you constantly leave around the apartment for him to trip over…

… and there, around your neck and resting on your clavicle, the chain. 

He’d never been good at gifts, but he knew he wanted a way to match you. Something to look at in his own reflection to remember you’re waiting for him at home; a part of him to carry with you so you know he’ll always keep you safe. Your eyes had lit up when you’d opened the jewellery case he’d handed over, neatly wrapped by the store, and then welled with tears when he’d shown you his own one. With blunt, uncareful fingers he’d fastened the clasp at the back of your neck, breathing in the comforting smell of you when you’d wrapped your arms around him. 

“I’m so lucky to have you, Logan.”

He’s more lucky to have you. You shine in the sun and so does every adamantium link. A fucking beacon in this world for him. A lighthouse. Bringing him home. 

“Hey, baby. Sorry, did I wake you up?” you ask, turning the music off now he has your full attention. He considers this and smirks. 

“Mmm, if I say yeah, do you have to find a way to apologise?”

You grin at the huskiness of his early morning voice and the promise of what’s next, turning off the heat on the pan before inevitably forgetting and burning the eggs. As you step into his arms he knows what the rest of the morning will entail: he’ll take you back to bed and show you how much you mean to him, three or four times if he can coax it out of you, then you’ll head to the diner across the street to eat because you’ll be too boneless to do much of anything else. 

Sounds pretty fucking perfect to him. His mind flashes to the ring he has in its little box, the one he bought at the same time as the chains and keeps stuffed in one of his jacket pockets, and is sure one day soon he’ll have the courage to give that to you too. 

Taglist: @mildly-salted @belilwen @malfoys-demigod @falsewordz @tvwebs @getmeoutofhell @rush-the-stars @s1eep-o @yrthr @just-a-beatlemaniac69 @childeslegstrap

[misserabella]

two geniuses (a vacancy gone wrong)

enemies to lovers;; spencer reid x fem reader!

masterlist!

sypnosis;you get a couple of days off, so you decide to spend them on a california hotel. except things start to go wrong when you meet spencer there. and later on, when you find yourself with cuffs around your wrists. there might be a killer whose obsession revolves around you. and he seems to have focused on reid as well. heads will start to roll!

cw; +18 content! minors dni!, talk of murder, graphic scenes, weapons, blood, alcohol consumption, tension, lots of fighting and bickering, lots of tension, teasing, flirting, pool scene!!!!!, reader gets drunk and flirts with spencer, spencer gets jealous? over another guy, spencer is confused, sharing one bed!!, murder of a secondary character, stalking, towards reader, secret murder admirer obsessed with reader… angst, fluff and smut in upcoming chapters!!!

you took a deep breath, a smile making your soft lips curl as the salty air hit your skin along with the warmth of california.

hotch had given you and the team a couple of days to relax. the last couple of weeks had been very intense with cases and lots of jet flights. all of you deserved a little time to wind down.

and so you’d chosen to gift yourself a four day vacancy on a 5 star beach hotel.

you were enjoying the feeling of the sun tanning your skin, the company of a good book and the cold comforting feeling of a margarita going down your throat when you crashed against something solid, your liquor splashing itself down your chest, making your exposed —claded in bikini— skin sticky.

but that wasn’t the worst of the situation. it was who you’d crashed against.

“you must be fucking kidding me…” you muttered to yourself. what the hell was he doing here?

he seemed as surprised and pleased to see you as you were to see him. your name fell from his lips in a breath.

“fuck.” you swore, trying to get the drink out of your skin. “there goes my fucking drink.” you sighed.

“nice to see you too.” he scoffed, trying to not look down at your exposed body.

you rolled your eyes. “what the hell are you doing here, reid? came to make my life a misery even on vacancy?”

“you wish. i’m actually here for my vacancy as well. just my luck to bump into you.” he explained, seeming as uncomfortable for having shared traveling destination with you as you were.

you sighed. “look. you don’t like me, i don’t like you. so let’s just… pretend we don’t know each other, hm?” you offered. “just want a couple of days away from everything i know.”

he nodded. “yeah, okay.” and just as he accepted, someone else came to find you.

“hey… is everything alright?” your eyes met matt, a guy you’d met on the pool of the hotel. spencer frowned at the unknown face, by the way he talked to you and touched your shoulder he seemed close. maybe a fling?

“yeah, sorry to keep you waiting, just… my drink.” you smiled at him, and something about it made spencer’s stomach churn. he’d never seen you smile. well, you’d never smiled at him like that. but he should understand that. your relationship wasn’t the best.

“oh. don’t worry, i’ll get you another one, hm?” he said, and you nodded. “you two know each other?” he inquired, and just as spencer was about to explain that you worked together you stepped in and shook your head.

“no. i’ve never seen him before.” the man nodded, and you took his hand. “let’s go.”

spencer watched you walk away with matt, his irritation growing stronger. he clenched his jaw so hard it aches, trying to compose himself. he couldn't understand why he was feeling this way, but he knew he had to get a hold of his emotions.

deep down, something screamed at him something that he already knew, but he dismissed it as simple hatred for your presence on his well needed vacation.

it seemed to be that his holiday wasn’t off to a great start.

-

he should be able to look away. but he couldn’t.

the hotel club was pretty full, but once spencer spotted you dancing with matt on the dance floor he couldn’t take his eyes away from you. he couldn’t help the sourness washing over him, his heart tightening at the sight of someone else making you laugh. his hazel eyes follow your every move, his attention completely focused on you. he tries to think of quantum theories, trying to lighten up his mood but it doesn’t help.

over the last few weeks he’d tried to stop thinking about that night with lila. he’d never thought that the sight of a gun pointing to your head would scared him so badly, but it had terrified him.

his head had flown towards you. there was no more lila. just you. he could still remember your pissed off face when the unsub had caught you. if only you knew the truth…

he watched as matt put his hands on your hips, and with a thick gulp, faced the bar, ordering a strong drink in an attempt to drown out his thoughts.

spencer can't help but watch you and Matt from his seat at the bar. he can see you drinking heavily, downing drink after drink as you dance your mind away. he worries about the amount of alcohol running through your veins, and in the back of his mind he tries to ignore the fact that this man could possibly be a killer.

although his worries disappear when matt gets a call.

he seems worried, and with a quick chat he leaves you. you seem disappointed, and made your way out of the club.

…

next time he sees you, it’s when he’s going back to his room. you’re in the pool, fully dressed, floating and looking at the starry sky. you look like a painting, and he doesn’t realize he had been staring until you notice him.

“reiiiiid” you sung out his name. “what are you doing here?” you giggled, looking at him through hooded eyes.

“i should be asking that question. are you drunk?” he inquired. he looked good. with a white sheer shirt —which sleeves were rolled up his arms—, short linen cream pants and a pair of brown shoes. his hair fell on soft curls around his face. you wondered if they’d feel as silky as your mind made you believe.

“maybe… why?” you turned around, water spilling down your chest.

“you know how easy it is to drown while intoxicated?” he sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. “alcohol increases the risk of drowning by impairing judgement, reducing coordination, and delaying reaction time.”

“yeah, yeah… always the same genius, huh? you don’t know how to have fun!” you exclaimed, rolling your eyes.

“i know how to have fun.” he retorted, a soft frown tugging from his perfect brows. something inside you tugged in the need to smooth it out with your fingertips.

you hummed, ignoring his words. “get in.”

“what?” he incredulously spat.

“the water feels amazing, spencer, grab a suit and get in.” you repeated, and he shook his head, his tone changing.

“i’m not gonna grab a suit or get in.”

“but why? we’re on vacation! isn’t that what people on vacation are supposed to do?”

“yeah well i’d prefer it if you didn’t die, not want gideon or hotch coming down on me for it .” he muttered, to what you once again were rolled your eyes. “can you get out of the pool? please?”

you groaned. “fine…”

you got under the water once again, swimming your way towards the edge of the pool and the profiler, who expectantly waited for you.

“can you at least help me get out?” you asked, offering him your hand, he sighed, slightly scrouching down to take your hand, struggling when you didn’t seem to be helping him to get out of the pool, rather, you seemed to be pulling from him.

“what are you…?”he tried, but before he knew it, the cold water was engulfing him, soaking his clothes and body.

once his head breached the edge of the water he heard your laughter, his honey hair all over his face as he pushed it back with his hands.

“ha, ha. very funny. laugh it up, y/n.”

“oh my god, you should have seen your face!!” you chuckled, hugging your stomach due to how hard you were laughing.

“god, i would drown you…” he sent you daggers with his eyes, muttering under his breath curses as he looked at his state.

“woah spence, that’s a weird kink you’ve got. thought about talking it with a therapist?” you mocked him, using his own words to stab him.

he let out a single dry chuckle “you’re real funny tonight, huh?”

“i always am funny, you’re just too stuck up to notice.” you shrugged your shoulders, nearing him. your eyes on his exposed chest, now that the sheer shirt had almost become invisible due to the water. you’d never expected him to look like that… his chest was formed, with great wide muscular shoulders and defined abs…

“stuck up?” he scoffed.

“you don’t relax. ever.” you nodded. “you never enjoy yourself.” you looked up at him as you stood on the pool. suddenly, he seemed so tall…

“yeah?” he inquired, his eyes on yours, his muscles tensing when your hands fell on his shoulders.

“yeah…”you bit down on your bottom lip. “just look at you, so worried i might drown. you’re so cute.”

spencer is caught off guard by your sudden comment, his expression softening for a moment. he feels a flutter in his stomach, but he quickly tries to push it aside.

"excuse me? what did you just say?"

he can't help but be taken aback by your sudden flirtatiousness, his heart rate picking up slightly as he processes your words.

“i said… that you’re cute spencer. didn’t know you cared so much about me.” you chuckled, your arms surrounding his neck.

his eyes widen, feeling a mixture of surprise and something else he can't quite identify. he can feel your body press against his, and his mind starts to race with conflicting emotions.

you’re warm. so warm… and your skin is soft.

his heart is pounding as he stares at you, his mind struggling to process what's happening. After a few moments of silence, he finally speaks.

"of course I care... i wouldn’t want anything bad happening to you."

“you’re just worried about hotch and gideon being pissed if i died.” you tease and spencer can't help but chuckle at your comment, shaking his head slightly. he's surprised by how playful you're being in this situation, but at the same time he feels a warmth spreading through his chest as he hears your words.

"yeah, I have a feeling they wouldn't be thrilled if I had let anything happen to you." he says softly, a small smile tugging at the corner of his lips.

“hmm, your smile” you hum, looking at it.

he frowns, his lips tightening in a thin line.

"i didn't realize my smile was such a big deal," he says, a hint of a blush creeping up his cheeks.

“no, it’s just… i’ve never seen it before.” you mutter.

“i guess i don’t smile ever so often.”

“no. you don’t. you’re usually all frowns around me.” you chuckle.

“you and your awesome personality don’t help me smile.” you scoff.

“well it’s pretty…, your smile i mean.”

“you’re drunk.” he answers and you roll your eyes.

“i am. but i know a pretty boy when i see one, reid.”

spencer feels a heat rising to his cheeks as he hears your compliment. he's caught off guard by how casually you said it, like it's a simple fact. like statistics, like victimology. and it strikes him.

"you think I'm pretty?" he asks, his voice slightly teasing as he quirks an eyebrow.

you hum, pulling him closer and down into the now warm water.

“what are you doing?” he asks, frowning. confused. everything is confusing him.

“nothing…”your fingers dug on his wet locks, brushing them away from his face, his puppy hazel eyes digging into yours.

“you’re definitely doing something.” he whispered, trying his best to not let show the shiver that went down his spine when your nails scratched his nape.

“want me to stop?” you breathed out, almost choking when his hands held you by your waist, his fingers digging on your hips.

no.

spencer's heart races as he hears your question. he knows he should say yes, that he should step away and put some distance between you.

but instead he find himself leaning into your touch, his eyes locked onto yours. he feels like he’s the intoxicated one. like he’s drunk off of his mind. ‘cause somehow, this close distance with you doesn’t feel bad. quite the opposite. he likes it. and that scared him to death.

his voice a low, husky murmur. “we should get you to bed.” he advised, to what you smiled, falling into his chest.

“i’m not tired.” you breathed onto his neck, making his skin grow on goosebumps.

“god you’re absolutely gone, aren’t you? you’re gonna hate me so bad tomorrow…”

“probably…” you snickered.

you stare up at him, one of your hands on his chest as his hazel eyes shifting from your eyes to your lips. you bit down on your bottom one the moment your own eyes fell to his mouth, the image of lila kissing him weeks ago replaying in your mind. you wondered how it would feel like, how his lips would feel like, would they be soft? would they feel as plush as they look? how would he kiss you? would he be sweet? would he be rough and mean?

the two of you seemed to near the other, got closer, like two magnets being pulled to each other.

your breaths mingled, and his hold on your waist tightened. “we shouldn’t.” he muttered, his eyes slightly fluttering at the scratching on his scalp.

“why?” you inquired, tilting your head to the side to get closer. he seemed to be fighting with himself. internally. to push you away? to not devour you?

but deep inside, spencer knew the truth. he knew the reason for his hatred towards you. the murdering need to keep away from you, when all his body begged for was to keep you close. he wasn’t ready to accept it yet, though. he wasn’t ready to let himself know that he wanted you. and so he denied himself of the pleasure that would be holding you closer.

“‘cause you hate me, and you’re drunk. you probably won’t remember a thing tomorrow.” he explained. always the gentleman…

“does that mean you would kiss if i weren’t drunk?” you inquired him, catching the moment his breath hitched. his mouth fell open, unable to form words, and you smiled. devilishly. he should have seen it coming, but he was so entranced that by the time he had caught on you were already drowning him.

“got you!” you laughed, seeing the pissed of expression he sent you. he was seething. “god reid, didn’t know you had the hots for me!” you teasingly pinched him to what he groaned, taking you by your hips and getting you on his shoulder as if you weighted nothing, making you shriek as he walked towards the stairs out of the pool. he was gonna carry you to your room if he needed to.

��you’re getting in bed, now.” he spat, to what you couldn’t help but tease him one more time with a…

“in yours?”

-

“fuck! come on!” you cursed as the door locked you out once again. “it’s not fucking working!” you’ve been trying to get into your room for the last 5 minutes. it wasn’t working.

“here, let me try.” spencer offered you his hand, and you handed him your card, only for his try to be negated again. “there must be some kind of problem with the key.”

“i’ll guess i’ll have to go to reception and get it fixed.” you slurred, taking the key.

“that’s not gonna happen. it’s closed.” spencer sighed, to what you frowned.

“closed? why?”

“some technical problems with the computers, didn’t you see the sign this afternoon after lunch?” you groaned.

“and what am i supposed to do now? sleep on the corridor?” silence filled the space you two

share, until spencer’s lips parted.

“you could stay in my room.” he said. “i mean it’s only a few doors down. tomorrow morning you could get your key fixed. and i could lend you some clothes to change to, since you know, yours are soaked…” he started to ramble.

“share room with you? thought you would rather die.” he rolled his eyes.

“i mean it’s not exactly my dream, but i can’t leave you here all alone.” you cooed.

“what a gentleman. who knew you’d have it in you, huh?” he scoffed.

“i’m not doing it for you, i’m doing it for

gideon.” you hummed, watching him take out his key and start walking towards his door, guiding you and opening it for you.

his room was the same as yours; small, one bed, one bathroom. you hadn’t thought about the fact that you would have to share a bed with him. you smirked, wanting to tease him further. get on his nerves.

“you sure it’s not cause you want me in your bed, reid?” you laughed, and he looked at you.

“you get drunk and your IQ lowers, huh?” he retorted, grabbing a pair of new and untouched boxers, shorts and a shirt for you to change onto.

“i’m smarter than you.” you scoffed, legs wobbly.

he hummed, giving you the clothes. “here. change into this, i’ll put your wet clothes out to

dry so tomorrow- woah! what are you doing?!” he quickly covered his eyes, looking away as you started to pull from your tank top, getting rid of it. you looked at him as if he were dumb.

“changing?” he heard you unbuckling your shorts.

“well, there’s the bathroom for that!” he panicked, his cheeks warming up when he caught a glance at the exposed skin of your stomach and cleavage.

“you think i can make it there without falling? you have high hopes for me.” you slurred, laughing.

“god.” he quickly got a change of clothes and left for the restroom, his cheeks crimson red and his breathing heavy. it was easy to hate you, easier than actually thinking about what you really got out of him. how close you two stood in the pool, the look in your eyes, your teasing, your undressing… “get a hold of yourself, reid.”

remember. she’s a pain in the ass. she drives you crazy.

she drives you crazy, she drives you crazy, she drives you crazy…

once changed in his pajamas, he came out, finding you already changed and sitting on his bed.

“i already put the clothes to dry.” you muttered and he nodded.

he silently stared at you, at your still damp hair, clear skin, beautiful eyes… at your body clad in his clothes, at how big his white button shirt was on you, how it reached your thighs, how…

“aren’t you gonna get in?” you ask him, snapping him out of his mind. it wasn’t as if he was engraving the image into his eidetic memory…

“oh, yeah.” he quickly moved, surrounding the bed to get on the other side as you ruffled with the sheets, covering your exposed legs.

the two of you laid there in complete silence. he had his hands on his stomach. he laid like a mummy, what made you chuckle.

“well this is absolutely not awkward.” you muttered and he sighed.

“well excuse me for not being thrilled for having you in my bed.” you chuckled. “you’re not exactly my dream roommate.”

“you wish i were.” you retorted and he scoffed.

“oh yeah, totally. you caught me.” he sarcastically said and you laughed. “anyways, shouldn’t you be sleeping? by the time of alcohol you’ve ingested you should be passed out cold.”

“you underestimate me, reid.”

“i’ve noticed…” he muttered.

“i’ll let you sleep now, i know geniuses need their sleep hours to function properly. or at least men, but even with that they seem to

not really achieve it.” he chuckled.

“thanks?”

“you’re welcome, agent.”

“it’s doctor.” he corrected and you rolled your eyes, moving onto your side to give him your back.

“whatever. later.” you said your good nights and he hummed, moving just like you and closing his eyes.

ten minutes later the two of you were passed out.

-

it’s the next morning and your head is pounding as you wake up. reid is already up, reading on the room’s desk. of course. very of him.

memories or last night fill your mind and you curse. what the hell were you thinking? maybe you weren’t. you were drunk. that had to be it.

“well if it isn’t the sleeping beast.” he says and you groan, taking your temples.

“isn’t it supposed to be the sleeping beauty?” you inquire.

“i said what i said.” you roll your eyes. of course. “nice hangover right?”

“yeah and your voice surely doesn’t make it any better.” he chuckles, his eyes still on the pages.

“your clothes are dry, left them on the bed.” he announced, and that’s when you see them. you took them, muttering a ‘thanks’ before going to the bathroom and change in between curses and groans that only seemed to amuse more the genius on the other part of the room.

“not funny!” you tell when you can practically hear his smile.

“it actually is. funnier than actually seeing you drown yesterday.” you roll your eyes, opening the door of his room to leave. he quickly stands, following you. “where are you going?”

you groan, your head hurting so bad it was almost like a migraine.

“why do you care?”

“well actually, hotch called and he told me to…” his words died in his mouth when the two of you came face to face with police officers.

“y/n y/l/n?” one of them inquired and you nodded, frowning when one of them harshly manhandled you and pushed you against the wall.

“hey! what the fuck? what are you doing?!” you tried to fought, but he was handcuffing you as the other agent recited your rights.

“you’re under custody for the murder of matthew jackson.”

“reid?” i looked at him with panic in my eyes. he was in shock.

“no, you must have it wrong. we’re fbi agents.” he tried to stop them but they were taking you away.

“yeah, and i’m mary poppins.” the agent scoffed.

“reid!” i yelled for him as they pulled you away.

“i’ll talk to hotch! i’ll find you!” he promised, and you only hoped he would keep it.

…

“i’m not talking until my teams gets here. deal with it.”

“we’ve already called them, they are on their way.”the officer disregarded your comment.

“only part of the body was found. now tell me.” the interrogator stared you down. “where’s. the. head.” you groaned.

“oh, i don’t know! i must have dropped it on my way here, come on!” you sarcastically said. he slammed his hands on the table to which you were cuffed up.

“where’s the head!?”

you slammed your hands back. “if you don’t shut up your head will be rolling next!!” you yelled back. you were irritated. your head was pounding, and now you were cuffed being interrogated for a crime you had not committed first thing in the morning! you hadn’t even had your coffee for gods sake. he gave you a glare. “look. i didn’t do shit. i’m not the killer.”

“we found the body in your room.”

“i wasn’t in my room yesterday. i left it at 6pm and spent the night out.”

“lies!”

“actually, it’s the truth.” your eyes met those hazel ones as spencer made his way into the interrogation room, being followed by hotch.

“doctor reid and agent hotchner. fbi.” they showed their badges. “you’re interrogating one of the members of my team about a crime she has no matter in.” you sighed in relief when you saw them, spencer making quick work of taking off his suit’s jacket to give it to you, since your tank top exposed you.

something about it made you feel calmer, safer. also surprised you. he wasn’t kind to you, at least not if that meant nothing in return. maybe last night events had changed something.

“if she doesn’t have an alibi i’m on the right to keep her here as long as i see fit.” the officer challenged the brunette man.

“she has an alibi. i can prove she wasn’t in his room on the time of the death.” reid said and the officer looked at him.

“oh yeah?”

“yeah. i can, because she spent the night with me…in my room.”

silence fell into the room, and you coughed, clearing your throat.

“now. will you release my agent?” hotch recomposed himself and the officer sighed shaking his head and taking the keys to your handcuffs out.

once released you got up from your seat, putting on spencer’s jacket to cover your semi-exposed chest. your holiday clothes were not the best to work on the field, even less to get arrested on.

“you okay?” hotch checked up on you, and you nodded, massaging your temple.

“yeah, besides the fact that if had you hadn’t shown up now we would have had a second case…” you joked, making him chuckle as you three get out of the interrogation room, meeting with the rest of the team.

derek whistles when he sees you. “well if it isn’t the hottest serial killer in the USA!” you flip him the bird. “nice to see you too sweetheart.”

“here.” jj handed you pain killers and a bottle

or water, what made you almost cry in relief.

“oh thank god, my head is about to split open.” you said while taking them, making quick work of swallowing a pair.

“agent hotchner, thank you for coming.” one of the detectives of the police station suddenly approached you and your group. “and these must be agent morgan, gideon, prentiss, jareau and doctor reid.” he offered them a handshake. “doctor reid, not agent. agent y/n was very specific about that when she asked for all of you.” spencer frowned, tilting his head with a confused but amused smile as he shook his hand. you rolled your eyes when his attention shifted towards you, seeing his eyebrows raise. “sorry for my agents’s actions. you know… protocol.”

“we understand it, sir. what can you tell us about the case?”

“ ‘doctor reid?’ “ he teased you, leaning onto you and you pushed him away.

“whatever reid, don’t think this means i like you. ‘cause i don’t.” he hummed, that fucking smirk still plastered on his face.

“we share bed one night and you’re already falling for me, y/n?” i scoff.

“you wish, reid. now wipe that smirk out of your face before i rip it off.” he chuckled.

“you sure you don’t wanna rip my head off instead?” he jokes and you give him a dirty look. “what? it’s funny.”

“excuse me?” all of you turn at the sound of an unknown voice. it’s a post man, holding a box in between his hands. “package for y/n y/l/n?” you frown. the whole team seemed to frown. how could somebody know you would be here?

“uhm yes, that’s me.” you stepped forward, and the post man nodded, taking out a digital pad.

“need you to sign this.” you nodded, approaching him, taking the box. it was heavy, ‘fragile’ printed on its sides. “a letter came with it.” he explained giving you the envelop as well. he took off just as fast as he got what he wanted, leaving you with it.

“what is it?” emily inquired and you shrugged, leaving it on a table of the office.

“no idea.” you answer while cutting the tape open. your heart falls to your stomach when you uncover what hid behind the cardboard. “oh god…” dead well known eyes stare right into your soul, a note written in blood calls your name. “it’s matt…” you feel like getting sick.

you step away and the team takes a look. “well, now we know where the head is…” morgan said, and jj gives him that look.

“yeah, seems like we have and admirer too…” gideon pointed out as spencer put on a pair of gloves and took the note. he recognized the victim as the boy you’d met at the hotel.

“‘loosing my head for you.’” he read out loud. “seems like it was written in blood too.”

“there’s also a cassette, guys.” emily points out, taking it out of the box, careful to not go near the bloody head. there’s a sticker on it, black ink that begs a ‘play me’. hotch takes it off the hand of the brunette and pulses the play button.

a distorted voice fills your ears. “i know… i know… you might don’t like this side about me, y/n. but i couldn’t stand still while that creep took glances at what belongs to me! you’ve gotta understand! i love you. i just want the best for you. to protect you…” his voice although unrecognizable seemed soft, as if a lover tried to make his other half understand the why behind this actions. “if you don’t believe me, take a look inside the letter that came with the box. see you soon, love.”

your eyes fell on the letter, your hands following suit, ripping it open, pictures falling from its inside and spreading themselves on top of the desk. it were pictures of you, in your bikini, in your room, changing clothes… you took them in between your fingers.

“he was stalking you?” emily inquired.

“seems like it.” morgan chirped in. “wait. is that spencer?” he stopped you, and you frowned, taking the picture. it was a photo of the two of you, him carrying you on his shoulder across the pool court and towards your room.

“there’s something written on the back…” you mutter, turning it around, ink scattered along the white. ‘WHO’S HE?’

“seems like the holidays are over.” hotch said, and you sighed.

definitely over.

-

[erenjaegerwifee]

Brat Tamer

Survive the Night: Day 4

Paring: Neteyam x Fem!Omatikaya!Reader

Warnings: MINOR DNI 18+ hate fucking, mentions of alcohol, jealousy, degradation, rough sex, explicit language, fingering, p in v, overstimulation, bondage, slightly jealous Neteyam, begging, slapping, spitting, blowjob, marking, mentions of blood, facial, this is consensual sex! It’s just very rough

Word Count: 5.4k

Disclaimer: all my characters are aged-up! If for whatever reason this makes you uncomfortable, please do not read my work. Any negative feedback will be blocked from my page. thank you!

Event Masterlist

“Oh, please Neteyam spear me” you roll your eyes at your future mate. For some reason Eywa thought it would be a good idea to make Tsahik conjure up a vision of you and Neteyam being a mated couple a ruling the clan together, with all your non-existent babies, apparently the number is yet to be determined.

“Can you just back off and let me hunt princess? I’m more than capable of feeding a psycho shrew such as yourself” he said condescendingly. “You are so fucking full of yourself; we could have been eating an hour ago if you didn't scare away my prey with your fucking wheezing”  

“You whacked me in the stomach with your bow what the fuck were you expecting me to do” his comment makes you laugh at the memory, “it’s not my fault you're a bitch, take that shit up with your daddy” you smile at him wickedly when Lo’ak spoke up, “damn just fuck already, end your misery” he said to both of us. 

“Shut up Lo’ak go home, you aren’t even helping” Neteyam said to his brother while you were making fake gagging sounds at his comment, “yuck- I don’t want this man anywhere near me, let alone fucking me” you gag again making Lo’ak laugh. “You know, you talk a big game for someone who has never seen a dick” Neteyam looks directly at you. 

You turn around looking for whoever he’s talking to with such audacity, settling with the fact he must be talking to himself, “are you calling me a virgin? Cause I can assure you I’ve had hotter sex than you that’s for sure” you cross your arms over your chest looking at him smugly.  

“How do you know I don’t have hot sex princess?” Neteyam copies your action crossing his own arms over his chest. “Uhm well let’s see, firstly I don’t think it's possible to have good sex when you have a stick that big up your ass and also, you’ve never fucked me” you flip your hair over your shoulder sassily.  

“Whatever you pompous bitch” Neteyam walks off bow in hand with every intention of catching your dinner. “You are such a fucking goblin” you tail behind him leaving Lo’ak laughing on the floor.  

Lo’ak isn’t the only person who catches kicks off your misery. The entire Sully family laugh at you from time to time. They have a front seat row to the drama that is you and Neteyam. When your mate ship was announced both your families joint together to build you a hut, the first hut you will be living in together. Since it is a known fact you are always at each other’s throats, they built it right next to the Sully family hut. But it was only in case they had to break up one of your numerous fights. The sully family tends to hear everything that goes on in your hut, every small argument you have, every altercation that turns into a screaming match between you too. 

You and Neteyam sleeping on same sleeping mat but he made sure it was big enough so you won’t have to touch each other, even going as far as to build a pillow wall. Even while your families both know you don’t get along, the rest of the clan, besides close friends, do not know. They are well under the impression you and Neteyam are very much in love, we couldn’t have the clan losing trust in the leadership, it would just be another problem. It’s one of the only things you both agree on.  

Clan members have been congratulating you both since the announcement, they bring loads of gifts like things for your hut, some of the older women have taught you to make things for our future husband, teaching you how to repair his arm guards and cummerbund, making loincloths, which sometimes you do occasionally have to do. They even go as far to bring you both food. 

Neteyam is set to take up the mantle of Olo’eyktan in 3 months which is when you will also ascend to Tsahik alongside him. You are meant to be mated before that happens which is why you’ve already moved in together; you are meant to get used to living with each other to avoid slip ups.  

For something that was sprung on both families, they have done extensive planning to make sure you become accustom with each other, almost as if they expected it. Never the less, you both have now settled into a routine of sorts. You both wake up around the same time and you make breakfast or one tired morning, go to the sully hut and you eat there. Then You get ready for you clan duties all done while bickering with each other about small things like usually. After that you both go out into the clan playing happy couple. 

At dinner time you usually are the one to cook whatever he brings home from his hunt during the day. If neteyam wasn’t so infuriating you would have thought about how domestic it was, how much you would have loved a life like this. A loving husband, a few kids. 

“You what, if you would just sit still for a few minutes, I could catch us some fucking dinner” neteyam says in an irritated tone. “Don’t curse on my dinner I have to eat it” You counter, “No sweetheart the real curse is eating your cooking” you gasp dramatically at him comment, your hands come over your heart, “you love my cooking you blue ape, don’t fucking lie.” you point at him. 

“Can you just sit here and shut the fuck up so we can go home, I’m about to leave your annoying ass out here and spend the night at my parents” he rolls his eyes at you, ignoring your cooking comment because he knows you’re right. “UGHH FINE” you dramatically drop down on the rock that was conveniently situated behind you.  

“Ugh fine” he mocks you sassily his voice is pitched and his hands sway in the air as he turns around making you roll your eyes. You wouldn’t tell him this, but neteyam is a good hunter, it shouldn’t take him that long to catch dinner. In the mean time you sit quietly on the rock making flower crowns from the nearby flower tree.  

When he comes back you both go home and you make dinner, “It’s kind of early can’t we just eat after the party?” you ask him after you are done cooking. “No, the food will get cold” you sigh not feeling to flight with him about it and you bicker about what you should wear for Lo’ak’s birthday party.  

At the party you and Neteyam split up to mingle with your respective friends and not have to deal with each other all night long, you dance and laugh while slipping from your cup of very strong alcohol. When you start to feel high you get a tap on your shoulder making you turn around.  

“Hey y/n where is your husband?” you make eye contact with one of Neteyam’s hunting buddies, At’ok. “Hey um I don’t know he was around here somewhere” you shrug thinking he was just looking for Neteyam. Your future mate has grown to dislike the man quite a bit with the way he constantly stares at you, under no condition is he admitting to liking you but at the end of the day, you will be his wife and its naturally disrespectful for him to try getting with another man’s girl. 

“Oh, good cool- you wanna dance?” you know he likes you; you also know Neteyam doesn't like him, it’s a win-win situation. What is neteyam gonna do? Divorce you? You aren’t mated yet and he’ll have to take that up with Eywa first which is essentially impossible. “Sure” you smile brightly at him. 

You grab ahold of his hand and move towards the other dancing na’vi, you sway your hips against him and his arms wraps around you swaying in sync. He turns you around and you throw your hands over his shoulders and that’s when you feel the burning stare. You know it all too well, you have experienced this too much times to not know. You pay no mind to him though as you listen to at’ok whisper how beautiful you look in your ear making you giggle and smile at him.  

If Neteyam treated you half as good as this, it wouldn’t be so difficult to live with him, you could make a lot of things in his life easier if he’d just be a little nicer to you, but apparently you are so hard to get along with, the woman who makes sure he has clean clothes and his warrior gear is intact, who cooks for him and cleans his living space. You are so fucking hard to live with.  

His hand moved down while he leaned back a bit closer to your lips and tilted his head as if he was gonna come in closer, his hand slid down your back and rested lowly on your hips. You wanted to kiss him honestly, but you got interrupted by a harsh tug on you bicep, pulling you away from At’ok’s warmth.  

“You don’t have any fucking shame, do you? The next time I see your hands on my wife- the next time you even look in her direction I'll fucking kill you” Neteyam’s voice was deadly calm, it made shivers run down your spine at how scary he sounded, but you would show no weakness. As soon as he was dragging you in the direction of your shared hut you started throwing a hissy fit, “What the fuck Neteyam we were dancing-”  

“Dancing?! You were dancing with someone who isn’t your fucking husband like that? Of please y/n” you rip your arm from his grasp, “what the fuck is your problem-” he didn’t wait for you to finish he just interrupted you again. “You, you are my fucking problem, I thought we agreed, the best interest for the clan is you stay in your fucking lane as my wife and I stay in mine as your husband”  

“You are not my husband yet and-”  

“Three weeks, just three more weeks you couldn’t keep your legs closed three more weeks? Then after that I knock you up and you could fuck whoever you want. We only need one” His voice sounds stranded, Neteyam has been pissed off before but even you have never managed to make him this mad.  

“Jeez everything is not about you and what you want! Maybe I miss having sex! Maybe I’m horny and I wanna have some relief! Did you ever even considered the possibility that I don’t want to have to wait anymore? It's been months since the last time I felt a man and it’s all your fault!” you shout at him.  

“You are such a slut you couldn’t wait a couple fucking weeks? You don’t think I feel the same way? Have some fucking self-control! Why should you get to fuck anything that walks while I have to stay loyal and be content with nothing?!” he shouted back to you in the same tone, truthfully it made you kind of turned on the way he spoke to you but your irritation outweighs that right now. 

“I have been loyal you asshole, I haven’t let anyone near me in months! Besides I've been so fucking tired making you sure have properly cooked food and that YOUR hut is cleaned and that YOU LOOK PRESENTABLE WHEN YOU GO OUT IN PUBLIC! And this- THIS is what I get for it? I’m a slut?” your tail thrashes around as you scream at him, your hands push his body backwards and you yank on the braid that falls over his ear in front his face. 

What you don’t expect after your outburst is Neteyam’s smug laughter filling your ears. You look up at his face seeing his head thrown back and his shoulders shaking. He suddenly bends his body forwards resting his hands on his knees holding himself up as he laughs. 

“What’s so fucking funny?” you tail twitches angrily your arms crossed over your chest pushing up your tits slightly. His laughter dies down and his head raises to look at you, a smug smirk sits on his face. 

“Nothing, it’s just- you are so fucking difficult to please. Eywa could have given me anyone, ANYONE in this ENTIRE clan. But she chooses you? The cock hungry slut that can’t even be bothered to say thank you after all the effort I put in to make this mate ship work. All you want is to fuck! You know if you wanted cock so bad, you should have just fucking asked for it” his voices drop a couple octaves when says his last sentence.  

You were about to protest but get cut off by him grabbing your bicep harshly once more, pulling you towards your hut, “Ah ah- shut the fuck up I don’t need to hear more” he continues to cut you off until you are at your door step where he opens up the flap widely and shoves you in, you stumble but catch yourself before you fall.  

“Neteyam what the hell-” his large hand met the back of your neck easily, putting pressure on your kuru while pulling you straight up to stabilize you. “You know, you look real pretty tonight, this the one I made you” he toyed with the flowers hanging from the rope of your top. Frankly, you feel a bit nervous of what he might do right now, opting to not sass him, he’s never been this rough with you, or at all so you simply nod your head.  

“You have been such a pain in my ass since I could remember and now, you’re gonna be my wife. Looks like I’ll have to teach you some manners,” Neteyam lets go of your neck and closing the flap behind him and taking off his cummerbund and arm guards. “Take it off.” His voice is deep, makes you shiver.  

You stand still not sure if you should listen to him or not, you really did it today huh? “Don’t make me come over there” he says glancing at you as he puts away his stuff neatly. He stretches his muscular arms and broad shoulder while he watches you still not move at all.  

“Y/n why don’t you ever just listen, I'm giving you what you want and you listen won’t listen to me!” His voice sounds stranded once more as he tries to get through to you. He sighs before walking up to you a ripping the top off your body. It was one of your prettier tops so it made you upset when he ruined it, you watch the pretty petals fall to the floor exposing you. 

You gasp and brought your hands up to cover your chest, you tail twitches as you look towards him angrily, “Neteyam what the hell I actually liked that top, probably the only thing you ever did that I-” his large palm slaps over your mouth, “shut up” his voice is so calm as if he’s used to doing things this. 

Honestly, this approach he is taking with you is turning you on so much, you didn’t think he had it in him. You bite his hand and he rips it away from your mouth, “what do you even think you are about to give me here? Have you ever even made a woman cum? Do you know what to you? I was under the impression you liked men considering the stick up your ass in snug in there.”  

“You are about to regret your words you slutty bitch” he mumbles to you when he rips your loincloths off your body forcefully making you stumble forward. Eywa don’t let this man see how mess in between your legs look it’ll be over for you. “Neteya-”  

“No.” he pushes your body down on the sleeping mat that is adorn with comfortable blankets and pillows you both made. “You need to learn to shut the fuck up and listen sometimes, I’m sick of your shit. You want to get dicked down fine” he doesn’t give you a minute to protest when he's immediately on top of you tying your hands to the bedhead, he made to go behind your sleeping mat using soft pieces of cloth, it was such a pretty pattern to you know he spent a lot of him on yet, you never imagined he’d use it like this.  

“Neteyam-” he cuts you off again, “there you go saying my name again, don’t worry you won't remember anything else when I’m done with you.” he smiles down at you obnoxiously. He doesn’t even wait a second before he grabs your thighs spreading them wide and pinning them to your chest. “Oh Eywa, sweetheart, look how wet.” he smiles wickedly at you, “Did I do this or that little hunter boy you were dancing with huh?” his smile never falters as he takes in your blushing expression.  

“Well, it doesn’t really matter does it? I get to play with it.” You wank on the restraints keeping you still but it only tightens the knot, you can practically feel the marks it will leave on your wrist. When he removes one hand from your thighs you instinctively shut them closed trapping his hands inside, you should have known that wouldn’t work, Neteyam physically much stronger than you are. 

His hands push your thighs apart harshly and he slaps his heavy hand on your thigh cruelly making you wail out at the sting, “Don’t fucking close it” his voice was steady even with your whimpering. You don’t make the mistake of closing them again when he removes his hand once more, dragging one of his long fingers slowly up your folds to your clit. The feeling makes you mellow softly, you lips parted and you let out a breath you didn’t know you were even holding. 

Neteyam brought his finger up to his mouth watching it drop slick on the bedding and put it in his mouth humming at the taste, “I have to say sweetheart I wasn’t expecting you to taste so sweet, I thought you’d be sourer you know... cause you’re a sour bitch, but my, y/n you taste like utumauti (banana fruit).” Your eyes roll at his comment but you can’t find yourself uttering words when he continues his action. 

Without warning he inserts a finger into you, his face is so close to your intimate area you can feel his breath on your clit as he watches your cunt suck in his finger when he’s pulling it back out. He repeats the cycle going faster before adding another finger, your eyes are shut now as he fingers you at a moderate pace, but it still feels amazing. “I can feel you sucking me in, gonna cum on my fingers evenge (girl)?” he speaks out glancing at your flash face. Your lip is trapped between your teeth as you watch his arm flex when he thrust in and out of you. When he curls his finger hitting your sweet spot you mewl loudly and throw your head back, resting it on his fluffy pillow.  

His scent invades your nose as you start to lose your senses coming on his fingers. You try to muffle your noises not wanting to give him any kind of complex. “Awe, look at you trying to be quiet. You don’t want me to hear those noises huh? I guess I’ll have to coax them out.” he fakes disappointment pouting his bottom lip out for you as he curls his fingers again pressing down on your sweet spot and he does this over and over and over again. 

You can no longer hold in your moans at his movements and he speeds up making you tense your legs up. You release on his hand with a loud whimper you try to shut your legs to make him stop his movements, Neteyam doesn’t falter he open pries your legs back open and delivers another harsh slap to your other thigh, “You just don’t listen huh” he delivers another, then another one slapping both your inner thighs.  

“Neteyam please stopp” water wields up in your eyes as you take his rough, heavy slaps to your skin. “You know, you came without permission, what should we do about it slut?” he slaps you again completely ignoring you pleads. Your thighs are turning red from the abuse but he doesn’t care. His fingers speed up their pace inside you and you feel like you are seeing stars, “Neteyam-” you whimper as you try to squirm away from his hands. 

“Yea sweetheart? I thought you said I couldn’t make you come?” his tone is condescending when he speaks to you. The overstimulation makes you roll your eyes back, your face flushes deep purple and you bite your lip. “I take it back-” you whimper to him. “Aw, I’m afraid it’s a bit too late for that now you wanted this didn’t you? You wanted a man to touch you like this. You got it.”  

You glimpse at his figure in front of you. He’s having so much fun teasing and touching you, you can see the way he enjoys watching you come undone for him, “All this just for me huh? Just imagine you wanted At’ok to be the one touching you, instead of me? Your husband. You think he could make you feel half as good as this? The answer is no.” Neteyam uses his other hand to push his body up and over yours, his hand moves to graze your nipples that harden a while ago being left untouched. 

“Such a little slut. Fuck” neteyam pinches your nipples roughly, feeling your cunt pulse around his fingers he knows you want to cum again but he’s not giving in so easily this time. “You’re gonna cum” he says, he’s not even questioning you, like he’s done this a million times, he just knows. You don’t deny it nodding your head vigorously, “wanna cum yea” you whimper 

“Beg.” his voice is stern, he slows his movements a bit, “No fuck you” you bite back. “Oh, then I guess you won’t be cumming tonight” Neteyam voice sounds innocent but his face tells you an entirely different story, he wants you to give him, he’s just waiting for you to roll over and beg for him. His fingers slowly retract from your pussy and the emptiness drives you crazy, “wait!” you shout accidently pulling on the restraints.  

“Please?” you mumble so softly he almost didn’t catch it, “What was that sweetheart?” his head leans in tilting his ear towards your mouth, his fingers still inside you half way in, half way out. “Please neteyam..”  

He chuckles at you, “feeling shy? Speak up please what?” he eggs on, “Please let me cum” he tries to hold in the satisfied smile making its way to his face, “one more time let me hear it, please what?” he urges you to speak louder, “PLEASE NETEYAM! LET ME CUM!” your eyes are glassy when you scream. You want it so bad you can barely think.  

“There it is, that wasn’t so fucking hard was it, all you had to do was ask nicely whore” his smile is wicked when he calls you that, he watches your face bubble up in anger before he continues his ferocious pace. You feel like you melt down into a puddle when you cum on his fingers with a loud scream of his name. You didn’t mean for it to happen but it certainly did, you are sure if someone was around your hut they would have heard you screaming out for you mate. 

Neteyam laughs wickedly when he pulls away from your body. The hand that was previously inside you comes up to your face and he smears your wetness onto your skin as he cups for face. “You gonna fucking listen now if I untie you?” 

“I always listen Net-” he cuts you off with a harsh slap using the same hand, right across your face whipping your head to the side. His grip comes back, “I didn’t ask for back talk you dirty whore, I asked if you were gonna listen” you mumble something under your breath that he couldn’t quite catch making him smack you across the face again. For what felt like the thousandth time, he made your eyes tear up. You decided against answering and just nodded your head, big mistake. His heavy hand comes down once more on your face and before he can utter any words you scream out to make him stop, “yes- fuck yes, I’ll listen”  

Neteyam smiles victoriously at you, and reaches his free hand up to rip the restraints off you. You could try to fight him, but you have no energy to even move properly. You were under the impression he got his point across, and that he was done, but you were in for a rude awakening. He moves off of you grabbing the hair on the top of your head roughly and pulling you onto your stomach, you whimper at the pain.  

When he lets you go his roughly pulls you up on all fours, and you raise your head to see his positioned you in front of the mirror he got for your hut. “Oh no” the thought ran through your head, you take in your form; half of your face is red from his slaps, you can see your red thighs. Your bottom lip swollen from biting down on it.  

“Oh, but yes, were not done” you must have said it out loud and not even realized, when your eyes shift to his form looming over you, his head is right next to yours, his loincloth has been discarded and he was stroking himself behind you. You couldn’t see his cock from this angle so you drop your head down to the mat, your chin touched the floor and you looked in through the mirror directly as his dick, you watch him stroke his incredibly long and thick length, your eyes widen as you wonder how the fuck that was about to fit inside you, you have never taken anything so big before, how does he even hide that thing? 

Neteyam notes your expression easily and raises up highly to give you a better view. When his tip presses at your overstimulated clit you raise your head up and shook a ‘no’ quickly pulling your body away from him. “Don’t run, you were cursing breeze about an hour ago about how horny you were, and how much you wanted another man to touch you” he pulls you back roughly, dragging your bent over form closer to him and you felt his tip pushing against you once more. 

“I’m going to have to teach you who this pussy belongs too” he pushes in this time without warning and you feel his length stretch you out, your mouth makes an o shape but not sound comes out as you take him in. You didn’t even know it was possible that to fit in you, but then again you never thought you would be fucking this man so things change. 

“Eywa you are such a slutty doll, watch yourself fall apart on my cock, and I just stuck it in.” he doesn’t give you any time to adjust, he just starts pounding into you. You cream on his cock while he’s thrusting, he fucks you so good, it’s like Eywa made his cock especially for your cunt. When you are almost coming for the third time, he pulls out of you leaving you untouched. 

Your eyes shoot up to look at him threw the mirror and you find him already staring at you, “Who’s making you cum sweetheart?” he asks you in a sickeningly sweet voice, “No one, I’m not coming you pulled out. What, can’t keep up with me?” you feel upset at his action making you manifest an attitude. His hand comes down smacking your ass, your tail whips when your feel the fat ripple, “What?” when you done answer he smacks the other cheek of your ass making you whimper, “nothing...” you said softly, but loud enough for him to hear.  

“Sweetheart you always make things hard for yourself” smack. “Why can’t you just be a good little wife” smack. “You didn’t answer my question yet” smack. “Who’s making you come slut?” smack. Smack. Smack.  

Neteyam thoroughly enjoys spanking you like you were a naughty child. He didn’t stop until he heard you small words, “You, you’re making me come please?” you push your ass back into his dick feeling the tip slip down and slap your slit making you jump. He catches you off guard when he pushes back in fucking you with the same vigor ask before, making you drop your face down to the mat  

“Now tell me who’s making you come?” his right hand comes around to your neck and pulls you up choking you. Your lips part as you exhale with every thrust he delivers, “Y-you” you stutter out, “Say my name whore come on” his face comes down next to yours and his hand moves from your neck to your face, squishing your cheeks between his fingers, his head comes down to the junction of your neck and face and sucks harshly on the skin. 

Neteyam leave dark purple marks all over your neck then he feels your cunt clenching down on his cock, “Gonna cum?” he whispers to you. You can barely form coherent words but you do manage to hm out a “mhmmmm.” his hand that is holding your face smacks it lightly a couple times, “Is that how you ask?” he questions, his pace never faltering, “Pul-lease Net-teyam!” your teeth are clenched as you whimper and moan at the amazing feeling of his cock dragging along your walls.  

“Such a quick learner come on slut, come on my cock” his words send you over the edge coming on command, your orgasm is intensified by the feeling of his teeth digging into your neck, he’s biting you, marking you, Neteyam creates a pretty wound when he draws blood out of you making you scream loudly. 

You pant your mouth feels dry and your throat hurts, you want to fall down but his grip is strong, he doesn’t let that happen. Neteyam pulls out of you quickly and moves his hand from your face to the top of your head pulling you to sit on your knees in front of him. He strokes his cock before tapping it on your lips a couple times, “come on, open up taste your juices slut.” His cock presses against you lips when he lets it go and slaps you across the face again, “Are you slow bitch, open up” he smacks you around whipping your head from side to side before you answer him, “My mouth is dry-” he can hear it in your voice, he knows it’s true.  

“Open.” he says sternly, his hands now occupied holding your head, “Stick your tongue out.” he continues in the same tone, when you do it, he lets a glob of spit fall from his mouth into yours and you instinctively swallow it, he shoves his cock into your mouth right after, “Now suck” he demanded thrusting his cock in and out of your mouth. 

He observes the way your cheeks puff out when he fills you up and the bulge in your throat when he thrust harshly into your mouth. The view is perfect for once you can’t complain or bitch about anything you do, your mouth is stuffs, you are quiet. Neteyam enjoys the silence aside from the occasionally gagging, your tears fall down your cheeks creating such a perfect picture for him. 

When neteyam come he pulls out of your mouth, stroking himself coming all over your face and chest with a sexy moan, “fuckkk yea take it bitch.” He takes a deep breath and looks down at you seeing you stick your tongue out tasting the cum that sits on your lips. Neteyam thinks it’s so hot, next time he’ll be sure to come in your mouth but for now, “gonna stop being a little bitch now and behave yourself?” he brings his hand back squishing your face, ignoring the feeling of his come on it. You nod quickly before opening you mouth and responding, “I’ll behave.”  

You both know it’s not true but at least you said it.  

✨ I’m not sure how much I like this but I hope you do when you read it! Repost, likes and comments are always appreciated, I love the positive feedback!

✨if anyone wants to be added to my Taglist please let me know in the comments!

Taglist:

@strongheartneteyam @rivatar @delusionalwh6re @nilahsstuff @xylianasblog @xrollingmyeyesx @quicktosimp

[brummiereader]

PREVIOUS PART

Hopelessly Devoted (PART FIVE)

Summary: After your tearful departure from Small Heath, you find your way back in the town you bid farewell to quicker than expected, Inevitably back to face the very man who told you to leave. Will your unavoidable confrontation with Tommy threaten to put an even heavier strain on your already fragile relationship?

Warnings: Language, angst, mutual pining, mentions of blood

" Fuck, fuck fuck!" you sobbed dropping your keys on the floor as you furiously wiped away your tears. With one sharp kick in frustration to the old wooden door at your current predicament you slumped down onto the cobbled floor as the clouds broke open and a deluge of rain poured down on you. Great.

" Y/N?..." You heard Polly's voice say in the darkened alleyway, her heels echoing loudly through the back row of house as she hurried over to you, holding her brolly up from the torrential rain now pouring down on the entire town. Yes that's right, Polly. You was back. Your dramatic departure filled with tears and sorrow in attempts to escape both your broken heart and Tommy's fury lasted all but one day. One fucking day. You quickly learnt upon your arrival in London after meeting with the Landlord that there had been a mistake or, what you had determined to be an absolute bollocks of an injustice. There was no letting, or at least there wasn't anymore. Greed knows no bounds and the Landlord your cousin had spoken of was no different. With little sympathy he quickly explained to you that he had let the property out to someone else, favouring their six months advance in rent over your measly one month deposit, leaving you on the doorstep of the flat you hoped you would call home with a puff from his cigar and a snide smirk as he slammed the door In your face. " Y/N?" Polly said as she helped you up from the ground, her eyes wide in confusion." You should be in London. What are you doing back here love?" She questioned as she pulled you under her umbrella, rubbing you arm up and down in attempts to warm you up.

" I was. But like everything in my life it was a disaster. I can't do anything right " you said as you sniffed back your tears bending down to pick up your keys.

" Disaster? You've only been gone twenty-four hours. What could have gone so wrong that you found yourself back in this shit hole?" She replied looking around her as she kicked a clump of mud off the end of her pristine black boots.

" Landlord had a better proposition, six months worth of rent in advance" you replied as you wrapped your hands around your body from the cold.

" Greedy bastard" she replied with an irritated huff on your behalf. "What about your cousin, you couldn't have stayed with her?"

"She's not there. Neighbour said she went to Hull on holiday. A holiday, In winter, who does that?" nobody does Polly thought to herself, especially not somewhere as bitterly windy as Hull. This was all too much of a coincidence for her liking. There was only one person that could have arranged all this within the space of twenty four hours and he was currently sat in the Garrison with her two other nephews and half a bottle of whisky in his hand. Deciding to spare you any further misery for one day she kept her suspicions to herself, but not without mentally taking note to give her meddling nephew a sharp smack to the back of his head the moment he had sobered up and the warm lull of alcohol had worn off. " I have two weeks left of rent on this place Pol. I kept a key just in case" you said turning to look up at your bedsit window. " He's changed the fucking locks on the back door, I can't get in!" you started to sob again as you looked down at the keys in your hand." Pol what am I supposed to do?"

" Come on, you'll stop at mine" she said hooking her arm in yours as she started walking you out the alleyway.

" Pol, Tommy...I can't " you said as you abruptly pulled away.

" Yes you can. You'll stop in Ada's old room. And as for Tommy, you let me worry about him. Understood?" she replied, not giving you a chance to argue otherwise as she took you by the arm once again. " I doubt you'll see him anyway love. He'll be in the Garrison until the early hours drowning in his sorrows"

" Sorrows? What's he got to be sorry about, thought he had everything made?"

"Y/N, there's something I need to tell you..."

" Bewitched, she bloody bewitched you!" John slurred as he raised his glass of whisky up to the ceiling whilst he precariously tried to pour a steady stream of the amber liquor down into his mouth, half of it inevitably spilling onto his freshly ironed shirt.

"No. Y/N bewitched me. Bewitched me since we were kids" Tommy said as he slammed his glass down onto the table, reaching in his pocket to pull out a pack of cigarettes.

" Fucking hell, that good was it Tommy?" John laughed with a snort as Arthur threw a cushion at his head causing the remainder of his whisky to tip over onto the plush crimson sofa he was laying on. Polly would certainly have his head for that.

" Wouldn't fucking know anymore, it's been five years" Tommy mumbled under his breath lighting a cigarette as he let his body fall back into the arm chair. But he did know, he did remember. He'd thought about you every night since the day he boarded the train for France. Thought about the small whimpers he would coax from your lips as he rocked his body into yours. The way he'd wrap you tightly in his arms after as you drifted off to sleep, listening to the gentle sounds of you breathing as his own eyes became heavy, and he joined you in peaceful dreams. Now all he heard was the sound of shovels on the four walls of his room, reminding him of what he had lost, what he had endured in those lonely nights away from you. Not that he would admit it of course.

" So what's your plan Tom?" Arthur said as he looked down at his drink, swirling the amber liquor from side to side before downing it. For once, he was the lesser drunk out of the three. Polly had given him strict instructions to go easy on the whisky and watch that Tommy didn't drink himself into oblivion. What Polly really meant was to not drink at all, but all Arthur heard was " go easy". And he had, albeit within his own limits before he too was too drunk to stand and ended up as hammered as his two younger brothers.

" Bloody Plan. I don't have a plan" Tommy lied as he stood up, leaning his arm on the mantle of the fire place to keep himself steady as he looked into the flames.

" You not going to London after her then?" Arthur asked as a heavy feeling of guilt started to sit uncomfortably in the pit of Tommy's stomach. The truth was Tommy did have a plan, one that had started to play on his conscious like the many other things he had added in the last twenty-four hours.

" She won't be in London for long" Tommy replied as he flicked his cigarette into the flames.

" Jesus Tom, what you done now?" Arthur said as he stood up, handing him the bottle of whisky to further dull his guilt.

" Something I'll regret no doubt" he said taking the bottle, intent on finishing its contents before Arthur grabbed it back. Pulling out your gold watch from his trouser pocket Tommy rubbed his thumb over the front, the wear and tear of the years he had kept it by his side more noticeable the longer he looked at it. " Fucking women eh?" Tommy said as he cleared his throat placing the watch back in his pocket.

" Your fucking women. You don't half pick 'em" John replied as he sat up rubbing the back of his neck as he placed a cushion over the whisky stain beside him, hopeful Polly wouldn't notice.

" Nah, Y/N was an angel" Arthur said resting his hands on his stomach as the four glasses of sharp liquor started to weigh down his heavy eyes." It's the other one I didn't get. You had it all Tom, what the hell was that?"

" To piss Y/N off" Tommy said shamefully when the front door creaked open and you and Polly walked in from the rain.

" To piss me off?..." You said, standing their stunned having heard the entirety of their conversation.

" Y/N..." Tommy said stumbling your name out as he turned to face you, his eyes wide at the realisation you had heard his spiteful confession.

" What the bloody hell are you lot doing here? You're supposed to be in the Garrison" Polly said as she shook the rain from her umbrella, her eyes darting between you and Tommy and the death stare you was sending him. It was all about to kick off.

" Grace was to fucking piss me off?!" You shouted as you marched over, grabbing the bottle of whisky from Arthur's hand and launching it in Tommy's direction.

" Jesus fucking Christ!" John shouted as he jumped out the way, dodging the bottle that landed on the floor beside him as a barrage of other objects came flying Tommy's way.

" Y/N, darling, I didn't mean it like that..." Tommy attempted to say with his hands out as a vase of flowers landed on him, gashing his arm. "Fuck!" he yelled as he looked down at the shard of glass lodged in his skin.

" She got you good there Tom" Arthur chuckled, amused at the fact his little brother was finally getting his dues. " Stay still" Arthur said getting up as he rubbed his hands together ready to play the surgeon. Looking sheepishly over to you Tommy watched as you turned around and stormed out the house.

"Y/N wait!" Tommy shouted as he pushed Arthur's hands away, pulling out the piece of glass stuck in his arm with a loud grunt. " Y/N it's pissing it outside, come back in!" he yelled after you as he ran through the living room, stumbling over the edge of the coffee table in the process. Drunk, one arm bloody, hair disheveled, he looked a mess, a desperate pathetic mess.

" Fuck off Tommy!" you shouted, arms crossed as you walked rapidly down Watery Lane.

" Y/N I didn't know! I didn't fucking know!" He yelled back in the middle of the street, awakening the whole neighborhood as the rain continued to violently pour down on the small town. " I thought it was you. Isaiah, Kimber's men...what, what else was I supposed to think?" he said coming to a stop as you continued to ignore him." You started all this you know, five years ago when you broke my heart!"

" Shut up, shut the fuck up! You screamed as you span around, storming back to him having had enough of hearing the same broken record non- stop for five years. Coming face to face with him, Tommy took a step back. He had never seen you this way, this angry this furious, the softness of your face replaced with a rage he had created. "Have you ever, ever once stopped to think that when you left me on that platform when you didn't look back, you broke my heart too!"

" I did look.."

" Shut up Tommy, just stop!" you cut him off unwilling to entertain anything he had to say as the whirlwind of anger stormed within you.

" Y/N" Tommy said reaching his hand out for you that got quickly slapped away by your own.

" I may have broken your heart first Tommy but every day since you have broken mine over and over again. I waited Tommy, waited five years. Watched you move on with that barmaid, stood there as you accused me of stabbing you in the back" you sobbed, the bitter reality of your unrelenting devotion towards him and all the years you had wasted trying to please him cutting sharper then any cruel passing comment he had ever made." All because I loved you...because I couldn't let go" you sobbed as the anger that had been building in you rapidly left, leaving you stood there deflated.

" Sweetheart please.." Tommy pleaded hearing the hurt in your voice as he gently cupped your cheek, slowly moving closer to press his forehead against yours.

" I'm not your sweetheart anymore. I'm done Tommy." you cried turning around as Tommy's hand dropped from your face.

" Y/N!" Tommy shouted, watching you walk away as he stumbled forward slipping over the wet dirt covered ground, the half bottle of whisky he had drunk dulling his usually sharp reflects. " Have a look everyone, take a good fucking look!" he yelled watching the neighbours curtains twitch from behind their windows, his yelling bringing the whole street's attention to the commotion he was responsible for. "Tommy Shelby on his fucking knees begging, happy now Y/N. Y/N!"

" Bloody hell, get up Tom. You're making a fucking scene" Arthur said looking around the street as him and John pulled him up from the ground.

" How much has he drunk?" Polly said storming over with Tommy's coat as Arthur and John held him up.

" I don't know half a bottle, maybe more" he replied as he brushed the rain off Tommy's face." He's alright Pol, ain't you Tom?"

" Arthur, I told you to keep an eye on him. He's a miserable bastard when he's drunk" Polly said looking to her nephew as she placed the coat around Tommy's shoulders.

" Would you all just fuck off..." Tommy slurred, pushing his brothers off him as he walked off into the night.

" Tommy where you going?" John called out ready to follow when Arthur put his hand out.

" Let him drink it off John boy" Arthur said watching him stumble around the corner.

" Don't you mean sleep it off?"

" Drink it off. Tommy's barely slept a wink since him and Y/N broke up"

" Best we leave him to it. The drink will force him to sleep whether he wants to or not" Polly said as she ushered her nephews back to the house. " Come on, in" she ordered them as she turned around to shut the door. " One day, just one day I'd like us not to be the talk of this town"

" Tommy, Tommy! You sick Tommy?" Curly said as he bent down to Tommy laying in a heap of hay inside one of the horses stalls on Charlie's yard early the next morning, his hand grasped tightly around another bottle of whisky he had presumably found on his way there.

" Nothing the hair of the dog can't fix" Charlie said as he bent down lifting Tommy's peaked cap up as Tommy slowly opened his eyes . " Think he's had enough of the good stuff, get him a glass of vinegar instead Curly" Charlie said as Tommy grunted at the idea of his Uncles hangover cure.

" Vinegar, I'll go get vinegar for you Tom. We'll have you back in shape in no time" Curly said as he hurried off out of the stall.

" Tommy get up, you're laying in horses shit" Charlie said as he grabbed the bottle of whisky from his hand. "You won't find what your looking for at the bottom of a bottle Tom" Charlie said as he poured its contents onto the cobbled stable floor beside him whilst Tommy watched the only thing that dulled his self-inflicted guilt slip away. " Y/N?" Charlie said as he turned the tin water bucket upside down to sit next to him, handing him a cigarette.

" Written across my face is it Uncle?" Tommy said as Charlie leaned over to light the end.

" Always did find your way back here, sleeping with the horses when you two would have it off. That and a bowl of cold water on you when she'd find you the next day" Charlie said as Tommy let out a scoff of a laugh looking down at the cigarette between his fingers. " She still comes in here. Find her siting there watching Curly brush the horses like she did when she was a kid, like when you were both kids" he said as he nodded to the bench in the corner of the stall as Tommy rested the back of his head on the wooden enclosure whilst the memories of happier times flooded back to him.

" Started when her dad died. Would bring us here to get away from her mum and Polly's sharp hand on the back of my head" Tommy chuckled as he breathed out a cloud of smoke. " Just wanted her to enjoy the quiet" he sighed rubbing his thumb along his brow as last night's drinking started to catch up with him. How long would he keep doing this?

" Times changed" Charlie said as he looked over to Tommy's eyes fixed on the bench in the corner where you'd both sit " So what did you do this time then Tom?"

" What haven't I done?" Tommy replied as he stood up adjusting his coat around him.

" Still breaking her heart?" Charlie said looking up to Tommy as he watched him pat down the horse he had for company the whole night, thankful he couldn't repeat his drunken rambles.

" Since I boarded the train for France, so I've been told"

" You were too young Tommy. You were about to go off to fight. You could have left her a widow when she was still a kid herself. But I'm guessing that's not all you've done." Charlie said as Tommy listened and let his Uncles words sink in. " Make it right Tom. She's been good to you, she don't deserve this"

" Think I ruined all chances of that Charlie" Tommy said giving up, straightening his peaked cap out as he walked out into the bitter morning mist.

"Bollocks. Bite the bullet and do what you got to do Tom, else you'll spend the rest of your life looking down that whisky bottle" Charlie said as he walked off, throwing the empty glass bottle into the cut.

"Vinegar Tommy" curly said running up to Tommy as he squinted through the fog, watching his Uncle walk off into the yard.

" Save it Curly, for when I'm really down in the dirt, ey?" Tommy said as he patted his shoulder, forgoing the idea of drinking Charlie's sharp remedy to bring him to his senses. His words had been enough. It was time for him to pay the piper and own up to his mistakes if he ever wanted to win you back.

It had been a week since your return to the town you thought you had bid farewell to and a week since you had last seen Tommy, having avoided every one of his attempts to talk to you. After a sharp word to your landlord Polly handed you a new set of keys to your bedsit the very next day. But with only one weeks worth of rent paid left, and your unexpected return ticket from London costing more that you thought it would, your savings were dwindling. Polly had offered you help even asking you to come back to the betting shop, an offer you was convinced Tommy had been the first to suggest. Declining both propositions and adamant on showing Tommy you didn't need, nor want his help you decided to look for work elsewhere, and with three job interviews lined up for today you had high hopes your money troubles would soon pass. Fixing your hat in place, you pushed a small pin into the side firmly securing it from any gusts of wind that threatened to blow it over. With one last glance at your appearance in the mirror you turned around, the smile on your face dropping and a scowl quickly replacing it at the sight of the growing flower garden currently occupying every surface of your bedsit. Seven bouquets of flower for each day you had been back, each with their own card hand written to you from Tommy himself. Fuck sake. Gaudy, flashy, over the top. Not like the beautiful posy of meadow flowers he would spend time picking for you on your birthday. You thought to yourself as you glared at them opening your front door only to be met with another ridiculously large bouquet in your face.

" 'Scuse me Mam" the young boy said as he stepped back. " Delivery from Mr Shelby"

" Jesus fucking Christ" you mumbled under you breath. You had no space for them and was frankly getting fed up with his pitiful gestures. After the relentless messages he had left you it was time to send him one final of your own so he understood exactly what your thoughts were on his grand displays of love. Pulling the card out from within the bouquet of red roses you scoffed at the message before reading it aloud.

" Roses are red..." you said without finishing the rest of the card before ripping it up and placing it back within the flowers as the young boy shuffled on his feet, his eyes quickly darting away. " Send them back Archie" you said with a huff as you shut your door.

" But Mr Shelby he..." the young boy replied nervously before you stopped him.

" Archie it's alright" You said bending down to his level as you placed your hand on his shoulder " Don't you worry about Mr Shelby, he won't do a thing. The only person he will get angry at is himself after his brothers tease him about this, alright?" You smiled as he nodded his head in reply. "Send them back at noon when Arthur and John will be there. We can't let them miss out on the opportunity to get one over on him can we?" you giggled as the young boys muddy cheeks dimpled into a grin. " Go on" you said handing him a penny, winking to him as he ran to the stairs, jumping down the rickety wooden steps two at a time. That will keep him at bay, you thought to yourself as you too headed down the steps jumping off the last one, your mood suddenly brightened again. Little did you know your scheme to keep Tommy away would only backfire when the result of another stupid idea Tommy had concocted to get your attention was about to play out.

" What do you mean the position has been filled?" You asked as you stood in front of the manager of the postal office, having only just arrived for your final job interview that day.

" Sorry Mam. The Position was filled this morning" he replied clearing his throat as he shuffled the papers in front of him.

" But it's only eleven thirty, I'm the first to be interviewed on the list" you pointed out to him at the paper on his desk. This was your last hope. The two previous interviews, well, lack of interviews were disastrous. One only lasted all but three minutes and the other place was shut before you even arrived.

" We erhh, we found someone yesterday" he said packing his documents into the draw as he quickly stood up taking the other pile of files sitting on the side.

" Yesterday was Sunday"

" Mam I'm sorry. I can't help you, the position has been filled" he said as he looked to the door not wanting to be asked any further questions.

" Shelby Company Limited" you scoffed, noticing the business card on top of the pile of documents in his hand. " He's been here hasn't he? Told you not to give me the job?" you huffed crossing your arms as you bit your bottom lip trying to hold back the tears welling in your eyes. Your heightened emotions never failing to show themselves at the most inconvenient of times.

" He said you already have a job, he was quite adamant about it. He..." the manager replied as you put your hand up, stopping him from making any more excuses for him.

" Save it " you said wiping your eyes as you turned on your heel, heading for the very man you knew was to blame not only for this failed job interview but the two others as well. Thomas fucking Shelby. Was this his way of getting you to talk to him, for him to see you? Well he was going to get just that, and five years worth of pent-up anger coming his way too.

NEXT PART

Tag list: @cosniffee @jonsncws @powellssaturn @jessimay89 @bruher @riseandreigns4u @mariaelizabeth21-blog1 @chimchimjiminie16 @gaslysainz @calicoootalks (unable to tag) @weaponizedvirtue @vlryexsworld (unable to tag) @shittyprofilebutfuckit @peakyswritings @kammsinn @mysticalbouquetwolf-posts @cherryslyce @esquivelbianca @taliawz (unable to tag) @answer-the-sirens @dielgonacoffee @cicilysgrace @nadloves @fanatics30 @httyd-marauders @beeposstuff @yeppaweshallsee (unable to tag) @ja-4-leyvam (unable to tag) @xmariakx @slighltyaboveaverageiq (unable to tag) @fairypitou @youngbananamilkshake @call-sign-shark @peakyltd @jeysbae @muhahaha303 @mornixgstar18 @adaydreamaway08 @artzyhobo (unable to tag) @atomicsaladapricotcreator (unable to tag) @1lellykins @duckybird101 @warrior-of-justice @amberpanda99 @ @mrstargayen09 @synx-h (unable to tag)

[midnightarcheress]

you’re going out.

pairing: bodyguard!ghost x actress!reader cw: pining simon denying till his grave 5 | gold rush masterlist.

Simon was sitting in your living room, hands in the pockets of his jacket and boot anxiously tapping on the wood floor as he waited for you to get ready. you hadn’t seen each other since the trip to France, still too scared to leave your house after that last note, so he wasn’t expecting your rushed text about going out tonight.

“i’m so sorry for calling you last minute,” you say, closing the loop of your earring as you walk out of your bedroom, trying your best not to be late, “a friend invited me for dinner, and i’m not exactly allowed to leave the house without you, so–”

“‘s alright” he mumbles, cutting your rambling and turning to see you, his heart nearly stopping at the view. you’re stunningly standing by the couch, one hand propped on the armrest for support as you lean down to strap your heels, struggling to maintain your balance. in a swift motion, Simon pulls you closer, gently lifting your calf so he could clasp it for you, not noticing your small gasp at his touch and how intimate the gesture must look to anyone else.

he doesn’t mind accompanying you or, in this case, guarding you. it’s nice to have you near, even if it’s just for a few hours and out of arm's reach, it's enough to save him from the dullness of his own life. but tonight is different, new, nerve-inducing. you’re going out with someone. he only ever had to be with you when you’re alone roaming the city or in event-related situations. what the fuck is the etiquette for chaperoning a dinner with a friend?

on the way to the restaurant, he learned that your company is an ex-co-star from one of your movies, who just happened to be your romantic interest. of course. he couldn't help the slight frown that appeared on his face and the small discomfort building in his stomach at the thought of watching you charming some guy for heaven knows how long. the text that gave him hope suddenly turned into a modern-time curse from the gods in a matter of seconds.

the soft piano playing in the background did nothing to steady his heartbeat when the hostess led you to the guy waiting by the window, twenty-thousand-pound watch on his wrist and a smug grin on his face, placing a hand dangerously close to your hip when you greeted him. Simon was placed near the bar, easy path to the exit and a clear view of you, but no liberty to drink away the misery of not being the one making you beam so widely.

it felt like torture, containing the venomous jealousy coursing through his veins, festering his flesh and rotting his brain with gruesome schemes of how he could end this in the blink of an eye. if he had a throwing knife, the guy’s blood would already be pooling under the table and you’d be long one, out of the shackles of your restricting life, far from sycophants and parasites, just safe from whatever threat that wants to maim you.

but he couldn't do that. saving you it’s not on his job description, no matter how badly he wishes to. so he had to endure observing you from afar, watch the soft locks of hair cascading on your face, see your lips take in your third glass of wine, and faintly hear the easy laughter escaping from you after one of the terrible jokes being spit on the table, probably as a consequence of the alcohol, while envy gnawed at the confines of his ribcage and begged to a way out. 

it made no sense for him to feel that way towards you. he was on duty. he was there for a horrible reason, so he felt sorry for you, but how much of it is pity and not true affection? why did the green demon eating his insides subdue when he saw how happy you were? why was his heart nearly skipping a beat whenever you glanced in his direction? certainly, it was just a way to reassure yourself that nothing would happen, but what if it was more? what if he was the reason you retracted your hand when the man in front of you reached for it?

the clock hands moved in a dangerously slow pace, minutes dragging like hours and slipping his mind into a parallel universe where he never left his house, but the sight of the check put on top of the beige cloth of your table was the solace lulling him back to peace. he could finally let out the breath he held since you stepped inside, lungs exhaling and expunging the poison from his system, and drive you back, without a single scratch on your skin.

the ride to your house was quiet, neither speaking more than needed. it wasn’t strange, the communication between the two of you happened mostly out of necessity, but the tension was palpable in the car. his grip on the steering wheel was tight, almost as if he was afraid that if he let go, his hand would rip out every strand of hair standing on his scalp. it was too much. he was relieved to be out of there, confused with the turmoil inside his chest, and angry at himself for getting lost in daydreams about you. 

“can you walk?” Simon asks, holding the passenger door open after stopping at your gate.

“of course i can walk–” your hand finds his arm before your face falls directly into the cobblestones that pave the path to your front door, “okay, maybe i’m a little tipsy.” Simon rolls his eyes after your blithe chuckle and snakes a hand around your waist, helping you head inside.

once in the warmth of your home and after making sure you weren’t too drunk to take care of yourself, he walked out, stomach churning as he tried to ignore the distress of the night and get ready to melt his troubles with a bourbon. but before he could press the code of the alarm and relax his stiff shoulders, your harrowing scream made his heart drop and his legs sprint back to you, fast as lightning strikes, images of the worst possible scenarios already flooding his vision.

his laboured breath meets you pressed against the wall, wide tear-rimmed eyes glaring at the mirror of your bedroom, and his blood pressure rises with concern. he turns to gaze at the mirror, assessing what made you so frightened, and his own eyes widen, ‘i don’t appreciate you entertaining other men, darling. don’t forget who you belong to.’

how i love inner struggle

[lethalchiralium]

No More | [2] | Simon “Ghost” Riley x F!Reader

a/n: WOW. i did not expect that to blow up as hard as it did. thank you so much!! [this seriously might become a series. we’ll see.] [also, that means you’re getting a backstory. a very… need for speed backstory ;)] i really do think this is shitty but that’s all part of the plan baby!

warnings: cussing, alcohol, simon drinks to forget but he always remembers, non-sexual nudity, mentions of genocide, mentions of trauma, mentions of past careers, mentions of planes, mentions of crashing, mentions of american citizenship (you don’t have to be from there if you don’t want to be! i live there and i don’t want to be here! it’s just important from a certain aspect of your previous career.) simon is also a lot more lovey when he’s drunk.

summary: He’s convinced he should leave. He’s convinced himself that you are better off without him, better alone than being hurt by a shell of a man like him. He barely got a foot out of the door before he changed his mind.

part one here! | SERIES MASTERLIST

He had more bourbon in the past two months than he’s ever had in his entire life. The sickly sweet pull and the burn down his throat was a comforting pain as agony ripped through his heart. He sat alone in your shared apartment, a dim lamp being the only light in the entire space. He hadn’t gotten sick of the bourbon like he usually does, he couldn’t move it from the coffee table - he had sat forwards, arms resting on his knees and hands dug into his hair.

He was bone tired. He hadn’t slept in two days; it was a normal occurrence now that you had gone on that mission. He had to take leave so he didn’t rip Price’s throat out for not letting him go with you. The ache in his head still hadn’t gone away with the aspirin he took a few hours ago and the full bottle of his best bourbon down the hatch. The night wasn’t flying by like it did last night, he could hear the clock on the wall tick as he wallowed in his own misery.

Sometimes it took him weeks to bring up the scalpel and separate Ghost and Simon, divide the halves into quarters and dissect what actions could have been better performed to produce a better outcome - essentially, what he did to fuck up the one good thing he had going for him, and how he could fix it. He took your words to heart, and he was taking a very long time to stew over everything he could have done that would’ve have made him look like he didn’t trust you. Simon trusted you with every fiber of his being, he loved you more than that. He knew you were an amazing fighter, your fire to help those in need could never be extinguished.

He realized later rather than sooner that Ghost was why you didn’t trust him - Ghost was protecting the person Simon loves the most. And maybe, that included when you were home too. Keeping Simon locked away so he didn’t get hurt, so Simon didn’t get hurt by you.

If he had half a bottle less, he would’ve gone up to bed - but the room felt suffocating without you. He couldn’t lay in a bed that smelled like you if it became one of the last things he had of you in case you were killed, so he had cat napped on the couch for the past nine weeks. If he had a bottle less, he wouldn’t have thought about how his absence wouldn’t hurt you as much as Ghost does - if he had the £348 he spent on alcohol back, he wouldn’t have thought how this place felt like your home. Never his, he also categorized it underneath Ghost’s half - keeping his love at arms length so his self-destruction doesn’t hurt you.

He was drunk. Piss drunk, since he had never gave himself time to sleep off the bourbon. Ghost was cracked in the middle, and Simon was punching out holes in Ghost’s façade. Ghost never allowed Simon to feel, never allowed him to connect with anyone - a self-defense mechanism. But now? Ghost was almost gone, and he felt like himself now. And God, did it hurt.

How could he have done this? How could have pushed you away so far that your rope was dwindling by a thread, how could he have hurt the one thing that made him begin to unlock the cage around his freezing cold heart? He felt it in his chest, the raw burn and tug of desperation - he knew that he had to cut the thread.

He didn’t want to, he would give anything to not let you go - but Simon couldn’t let you keep getting damaged by his defense measures.

If he had no alcohol in his system, he wouldn’t have gotten up like he did. He wouldn’t have waltzed to the guest room, messily packed his duffle and brought it to the living room. He wouldn’t have grabbed a pen and an old pad of paper. And he definitely wouldn’t have written the note he was writing now.

He folded the note, lifting up the bottle of bourbon on the coffee table and setting it down on the table, putting the bottle on the corner to hold the note down. His hand grabbed his duffle and he stood and he made his way to the front door. He slipped on his boots, only caring enough to tuck the laces into his socks before Simon went to open the door. He took the time to turn around, gazing at the dim apartment that smelled like you, that held all of your important belongings. It was the place that cradled you when you were down, the place he kept falling for you, the place he would kneel to the kiss the ground you walked on.

This was the place he loved you.

Honestly, in the back of his mind, he knew his sober ass would walk home after a week.

Before he could open the door, the lock turned and the door burst open - he threw his duffle into the adjacent kitchen and was about to fight. That was before he saw you.

Dirt and blood caked on your face, your duffle hanging from your hand, your hoodie tattered and your neck bruised - and he watched as the tears raced down your face. He could barely even begin to speak when you flung your duffle inside and dove into his chest, arms wrapped around his chest so hard, he thought you would pop his lungs.

“Baby, baby, hey,” He cooed, his hand immediately held your head against his chest - he pulled you both out of the way so he could close the door and lock it, now he was immediately sobered up. Your sobs were loud now, your hands gripped onto the back of his shirt so hard he was convinced it would rip.

He tried to pull you away but you refused, begging, “Please, pl-please don’t let me go.”

“Where’s Cerby?” He spoke gently, keeping his hand on the back of your head, feeling dirt crusted into your scalp. You must have come straight here.

“With K-Keegs.” You mumbled, muffled by his thin t-shirt with a faded band logo on it. He sighed, sad that his dog wouldn’t be home for a few days but he let the feeling go. All he needed to focus on was you, and definitely not his foolish actions from literally three minutes prior.

He hummed then, his free hand moved to underneath your thigh - he pulled it up so you would get the hint, which you did. Your arms moved from around his chest to around his neck and you jumped into his arms, caging your legs around his large waist as best you could. Both of his hands held the back of your thighs, he glanced to the kitchen and made sure both of the duffles were there and unharmed. They were, so he turned around and walked down the hallway to the bedroom he hadn’t used in since the last time you were home. He pushed the door open, turning on the warm light before walking into the ensuite bathroom.

He flicked on the light before moving to sit on the side of the bathtub, it creaked under your combined weight - you were sat firmly on his lap and his hands went to your back and head, cradling you.

“I’m gonna start a bath for you, love.” He spoke, his voice wavering with uncertainty as your arms wrapped tighter around his masked neck.

“No, no, please, don’t let go.” The tumble of words from your mouth made his grip on you tighter. He couldn’t imagine what happened, he didn’t want to - he thanked God that he decided to drink that entire bottle of bourbon a couple of hours ago. His mind was muddled, he could barely get any thought out of what could’ve happened. All he wanted to do now was help you.

He kissed the top of your head through his mask, dismissing the feeling of cloth against his lips and he gently pulled your head back, he gazed into your red-rimmed eyes. He whispered your name like a prayer, as if you were an angel - which you were to him. Even covered head to toe in dirt, blood, and grime, he would still be able to see your halo through any darkness. “Let me help, love. Let me help you feel better, then I won’t let you go for as long as you want.”

“I can’t.” The voice he heard was almost unrecognizable, he had never heard you sound so small. “I can’t, I can’t.”

He sighed, moving forwards to press the skull to your forehead - something he did when he knew you needed it. You physically relaxed when he did it, your back bent into his hand as you pushed every single ounce of weight onto him. His fingertips pressed into your spine, dragging up and down it from above your shitty old hoodie. He stayed like that for a few minutes, letting you cry against his mask. He gave you a bit of time before he pulled up your hoodie, you obliged and let him pull it over your head. You were just in your dirty black sports bra, and now he got a good look at you.

He felt bile rise in his throat. Your entire chest was spray painted in black bruises, he got a good look at the dark purplish handprint on your neck. He looked back up at you, your head faced to the side as you cried, ashamed.

“Oh, my love,” His hand returned to the back of your head, cradling it as he gazed at you. “Are you hurt anywhere else?”

You quickly shook your head, tears removing most of the grime on your cheeks. Your arms were now at your side, fiddling with the hem of his athletic shorts while you let out a broken sigh. His hands moved to lift you off of his lap, one hand didn’t stop touching you while he pulled off your boots, tossing them to the side before tugging off your holed socks. He made a mental reminder to buy you new socks at the base shop while he placed a hand on your back, guiding you with him as he moved to turn the faucet on. He turned it all the way up then back a little, the temperature you liked. He plugged the drain and put his hand underneath the flow of water, waiting for it to turn almost hot - normally, he would’ve made it extremely hot, you had always said you thought it was like being boiled like a lobster. But, he didn’t want to agitate your injuries. His hand moved from your back and didn’t break skin contact when he took your hand, still looking away from you but he still held your hand gently.

“You’re warm.” You mumbled, moving his hand up to settle on your cheek.

“I know, love.” He answered, turning back to you. His hand slipped from your face and down your side to your belt loops, undoing the buttons and zipper then pulling down your pants. He took your hands as you stepped out of your pants, watched as you kicked them behind you and he observed new pink scars, healed but still fresh. Surrounding them were black bruises, identical to the ones on your chest. He heard your whimpers of pain when you stood back up, his hand ghosted your side as he gazed at it, seeing identical black bruises again. Even if he felt sober, he knew that the adrenaline from you showing up injured would wear off and he would become sloppy. He didn’t hurry, he took his time as he pulled down the boxers you stole from him and toss them away. His hands found the bottom of your sports bra, your wince made him pause and look at your face again.

Fat tears still rolled down your cheeks, silent sobs left you as you kept your eyes closed. Your hands stayed at your side until he murmured, “Raise your arms please.” You did as you were told, he tugged it off quickly but not as painlessly as he wanted. You let out a loud wheeze that echoed throughout the bathroom, he placed his hand on your side again, his presence close to you as he leaned down and shut off the water. “‘m gonna pick you up, love.”

“Okay.”

He did as he had said, gently swooping you into his arms and placing you in the warm water that reached up to your collarbone. Your eyes opened again when he retreated from the tub, your gaze watched as he pulled out a towel from the closet and began to rummage through it.

“I almost died.”

Simon visibly froze as you turned back, your gaze now staring at the light above the tub. He peered around the door, hand clutching a washcloth with a pain he couldn’t soberly place. “Do…Do you want to tell me?”

You didn’t respond. He brought all of the materials to the side of the tub, he gently pet your head.

Simon, drunk as hell, bathed you with care. He didn’t speak a word and neither did you, you stared at the wall the whole time except when he tried to wash your hair. You let him move you under the faucet, rinse your hair for five minutes because he couldn’t tell if the soap was gone yet, let him dry you with a towel and dress you in new clothes.

You could barely keep your eyes open when he carried you to bed, tucking you in before he did himself. He watched as you curled into a ball, facing him and keeping your eyes on the sheets, your hand drew circles beside your face. He turned off the lamp on the nightstand, drowning the room in darkness and settled back onto the bed, watching you with bated breath.

“Got trapped in a burning truck.” Your voice almost spooked him, his eyebrows furrowed. You just stared at the gray sheets. “RPG’d the ground in front of us and flipped it. Knocked Logan and Keegs out. Hesh got launched from the driver’s windshield. Had to drag them out and triage them in an abandoned warehouse while trying to fight off the enemy. Got captured for a week. Keegs saved me.” You sniffled a little, your hand reached for his - he instantly took it. He squeezed your hand. “Had bad flashbacks. It had been a while since I’ve got stuck under burning metal and tortured. S’why I was crying.”

“How’re the boys?”

“Watchin’ Cerby and all as stubborn as always. All fine.” You mumbled, pressing his rough skin to your chapped lips.

A deafening silence settled then, your thumb threaded over the back of his hand while he felt your breath graze it. He began to feel drowsy, the slow turn-table of dizziness was coming back from earlier and all he wanted to do was place his head in your neck and just breathe. He needed you like he needed oxygen, you touch him and he felt like it was the first breath he’s ever taken.

“Sleep, baby.” He murmured, sliding down from his sitting position, underneath the soft duvet. He moved closer to you, settling his head so that he laid face to face with you. He could barely make out your nose and cheeks in the dim moonlight, but he could see the glisten of your eyes as they gazed at his.

“I haven’t had a PTSD episode since I left the US Naval Aviation division.” The voice he heard sounded nothing like what you normally do - it was small. Broken. Damaged. An echo of you.

He furrowed his brows, he thought he knew everything about you. Both your dad and childhood best friend were pilots, but you never specified what kind - and apparently neglected to tell him that you were one too. “Why didn’t you tell me you were a pilot?”

You sniffled, squeezing his hand and ignored his question. “Got shot down over enemy territory. Crash landed and had to pry my legs from my jet as the fire burned.” The sensation of his hand being squeezed tighter made his dizzy mind think that you were angry - but in reality, the memory of burning metal against your hands made you feel scared. You wanted to pull him closer, to have him shield you from your memories. Yet you kept talking, even if you recognized the hurt twang in his voice. “Had to fend for myself in an abandoned city just over the border in Ukraine. Stayed in that town for three weeks ‘til Special Forces came and found me.” You pulled his arm to your chest, pressing his hand into your cheek. “S’where I met Price. Almost shot him too, thought he was an enemy.”

“Why didn’t you tell me about the flashbacks?” His voice was softer then, he pressed his warm palm down to your jaw. “I could’ve helped you, my love.”

“‘Cause it’s not important now.” You murmured, both of your hands cradled his. “Wasn’t even s’posed to stay with 141, meant to go back to Miramar. Meant to get back in the air.” You took a quiet breath. “I fell for you and everything I knew went up in smoke.”

His heart dropped to the floor. It thumped against it, still pumping blood but it hurt in his chest.

“If I hadn’t given it up, I wouldn’t have you.”

“I would give up anything for you.” He whispered. “Don’t give up anything for me, darling. You deserve everything you have.”

“That means I deserve you.”

“You don’t deserve me.” He immediately answered, his other hand went to settle on the duvet, tugging it up more. “You don’t deserve my problems, how fucked up I am.”

“I don’t care.”

“You should.” He settled his hand on your side, feeling you breathe underneath his fingertips. “I’ve hurt you, not on purpose but I still did it.” His thumb circled on the duvet, you barely felt it as his voice became quieter. “You really hurt me when you walked away.”

“I’m sorry.” Your voice wavered, he couldn’t bear to hear you start to cry again. He paused, hand coming from your hip to completely take off his mask - something he had never done in your presence before. He tossed the mask away onto the floor as he moved forwards, placing his lips against your moonlight dusted cheek.

“I deserved it.” He answered, settling back and pulling your hands into his chest. “Made me think for a while.”

“You’re drunk.” A statement he didn’t deny, he pulled your hands upwards to his collarbone.

“I am.”

“Because of me?”

“Because I hurt you.” He answered, now pulling your hands to settle on his cheeks. “I want you to feel that I trust you, because I do.” He began to move your hands upwards, his eyes fluttered closed as your fingertips traced his warm face, tracing his eyebrows and dancing over his eyelids.

“Simon, you don’t have to let me do this.” Your hands paused, his own grip settled on your wrists. “I want you to be sober, you’ll be mad at me tomorrow.”

He scoffed, moving his head to kiss one of your palms, keeping his eyes closed as he whispered, “I could never be mad at you. Frustrated or upset? Yes, but angry? No.” He gently rubbed your arms, hands moving to settle on your own cheeks. “I’ve decided that you need to really know how much I trust you. How much faith I have in you. How proud I am of you.”

“You hurt me for so long.” Your voice cracked so heavily, fingertips grazing his forehead and memorizing his nose, coming down to trace his lips you knew well.

“I want to fix it.” His lips kissed your palm again, eyes opening to gaze at your dimly lit face. “Give me a chance.”

“I think this is most comfortable you’ve ever been to talk about things like this.” You remarked, hands stopping on his jaw, cradling it. “I want you to show me how much you trust me, but when you’re sober.”

He nodded in return, moving forwards to place a slow kiss on your lips. His hands moved to settle on the side of your head, pulling you forward just a little. When he broke the kiss, he placed another on the tip of your nose. “You’ll know how much I treasure you until the end of time.”

“Okay.”

“Just don’t leave me like that ever again.” His voice was low, one hand going to trace down your body. “Ever.”

You nodded as you moved closer to him, chest to chest. He removed his other hand from your cheek and slid his arm under his pillow.

“Sleep, love. We’ll talk tomorrow.”

_______________

comment for part 3! (part three here!!)

—————————

tag list:

(i was not able to tag some - i apologize!)

@luhvbot @its-me-ya-boi-lisa @ladystarfishnut @chris3tom2pau1rdj @kat-nee @efsa-lks @angelsquid @marytvirgin @medivalpersephone @ramadiiiisme @blueoorchid @guiltyconfessions @abbiesxox @lockleywife @nicomactavish @nose235678 @lumpypoll @multi-fandomlovers-world @holyfeck @thriving-n-jiving @kgive @simonsdoll @crazyfandomist @ryunniez

Copyright © 2023 lethalchiralium. All rights reserved.

[samodivaa]

Deny the truth,set my world on fire (Part 2)

Bucky Barnes x Reader (Winter Soldier x Reader)

Part 1⋆*･ﾟ:⋆*･ Part 3 ⋆*･ﾟ:⋆* Part 4⋆*･ﾟ:⋆* He knew that she was having an affair...she denies, but the love marks on her body are still there. She can't tell him the truth, it will break him - the Winter Soldier is indeed inside of him, fucking her at night and Bucky doesn't remember. ✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧ Warnings - heavy angst ,stalking, attempted murder SMUT - non consensual, dom!Soldat, rough!Soldat, choking, knife kink, blood kink, Russian roulette ,degrading in Russian, harsh slapping, hair pulling, fuck toy!reader. Words - 4000

Bucky is non stop destroying what is left of his heart by constantly thinking about things that have broken him recently. He roots in alcohol, in misery, barely alive in his silent way. Sometimes he gets so drunk that he could hear y/n’s voice calling him at the door as she is coming home with groceries – sick with love. Their shared apartment will never be complete again, because part of his heart is elsewhere. He needs to feel at home in something, but this is the price he pays for the richness of loving and trusting. In this world he didn’t know what the color of love is – yet he is still deeply stained by hers, but maybe there is no love on earth for him, expect the one he imagined. His body felt the sadness that his soul couldn’t fully register. „Love is a sacrament that should be taken kneeling — Oscar Wilde“ one of her favorite quotes. How long will his ruined being still burn?

Bucky is falling apart – the deeply sealed stitches of the nightmares, began to tear apart, not letting him sleep peacefully. He grasps the extend of the loneliness and desertion that he is exposed to. For the first time in forever, there is a complete absence of emotional understating from her – his heart is heavy like an anchor, holding him still in the mist of the storms in his soul. And pain knows a way into every crevice – slowly gaping a hole into the abyss of Winter. Seasons change with the scenery of his emotions and the sky is a hazy shade of winter, there will soon be patch of snow on the ground, shallowing him whole. His heart begins to ache when he hears a knock on his door. It taints the very air he breathes with streams of hope. The greed of love, reeks of desperation as he runs to the door to open it.

„Sam?“ Bucky says, his eyes confess the fatigue of his living. He lets out a breath, before putting on a smile and forcing a laugh „What brought you here?“   „I came to check up on you, you are not picking up your phone…again“ His eyebrows raise slightly in surprise as he stares, not knowing how to respond. "Y/n told me...what happened" Bucky sighs and leans against the door frame. Eyes filled with pure acrimony - puffiness under the eyes. He stands hesitant, his soul floating with embarrassment. “Really? She did? Does all of New York know, now? Because it really feels like it“ Bucky says, his voice calm but the anger stands in his words like a flame. He furrows his brows, not only in anger, but in confusion too. Why did she talk with Sam about it? Why does he know more? “You know why she left…?” he questions with urgency, taking a deep breath before chewing on his bottom lip nervously. „Yeah…she told me.“ Sam answers, keeping his voice low. His eyes spoke so many unspoken words, begging Sam not to press on the matter, his face forming into a slight frown and his eyes narrowing for a split second. He’s clearly not happy about her decision of talking with Sam behind his back. „So, um…when do we start with the case of the missing CIA agent? I saw the files you send me yesterday“ Bucky needs to change the subject, a source of a painful reminder to Sam to be more cautious around him. „There is no need for you to come, I can deal with it alone…and the CIA will provide assistance, too“ „The CIA? Isn’t Y/n coming with us…?“ Bucky gulps, twisting the words into what he really wants to know.

„She…she won’t work with us anymore, she decided to join the CIA“ „What? Under whose command?“ It was awkward as they both stared at each other in, sitting engulfed in suffocating silence for a minute before Sam decided to answer. „Walker“ He bites the inside of his cheek, his head whips from side to side with nothing, but pure horror. Sam was simply waiting for Bucky to explore , whereas Bucky was trying to figure out and just process what had just heard. Hiding shaky hands in their pockets, hiding any evidence of his distress. His chest heaving with ragged breaths, trying to hold back his tears. When a man learns to feel love, he must also bear the risk of feeling hate.

„This…“ his words get catch up in his throat before he forces them out „The nerve-“ Bucky thinks to himself, before letting out a deep sigh and shaking his head in disbelief. „We are her team. What the hell is she thinking?“  he shakes his head, clearly frustrated. „They don’t even get along-“ he trails off at the end realizing that it was a cover up for their affair, it all made sense now. „-well…I guess that just…saves me from another discussion. If she‘s with Walker now, then she…has chosen her side. I…I just need some time to process this…“ „It is okay, Bucky…you need a break“ even when life has forgotten him once again, Sam is there – holding his hand, not letting him fall. „No, Sam I can’t leave you alone in this“ „Bucky, listen to me…if I need you I swear I will call, okay?“ ✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧

Bucky’s eyes have finally glazed over, something snaps in him as he closes the door. His lip trembles, and he bites it in hopes of stopping the tears that begin to build. He wanted to let go of the pain even though it was the last thing that feels alive from her. Love, he’d seen and experienced in his own way - a powerful emotion. It brought them together, gave them a reason to fight, and a purpose outside themselves. Love made him stronger and more capable of facing the challenges of a difficult extended life. ✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧

„Good job today, y/n, wanna grab a coffee and discuss more?“ Walker was so cooky when she called him, sensing that something between you and Bucky happened. He wasted no time In seducing you, he was devoted to earning your love. „Yeah I-“ The moment y/n laid your eyes on him, she knew. As if time pauses itself, her brain is in a total blur when she spots him coming closer to them, one hand stiffed in his jacket, the left holding a gun and that is what divulges it. It was a joy to be hidden in the crowd and a disaster to be found. Bucky put all of his energy into protecting himself, developing a terrifying survival strategy. The Soldat’s behaviors, classified as psychiatric problems – obsessions, compulsions – his most destructive behavior, started unwillingly as a strategy for self-protection of his true self. Winter’s love for her flesh is a like a flower flooded with blood – opening new wounds, making them a garden of a reminder for his sadistic ways. Y/n pivot on her heels, decision resolute – to get closer to him, hugging him. „Hey Bucky, oh my gosh! Thank-k you for bringing my revolver back!“ this was the only idea she had. Her immediate reaction is to hide her face in his chest after giving him a hug, but he prevents her from doing so as he uses his other hand to cup her chin and steer her gaze back onto his. Y/n’s brain malfunctions before putting a hand on the gun as his grip loosens, allowing her to retrieve it in her pocket of her sweetheart. A disgusting public display of affection and ownership the Soldier never showed before. „Do you want me to shot him?“ She is happy that he says something that resembles Bucky as she turns her back to him, facing John. An enlarged hand grasps hers, and she stops in her tracks, back still towards him. He’s nonchalant when he speaks, his grip on the small hand loosens when she turns her full attention back on him, but he still keeps ahold on y/n’s hand in case she dares to look at John. „Sorry, John maybe next time…“ Pursing her lips as she replies, not removing her gaze from the empty blue eyes. What abuses has she endured on her heart from him –  secret.

Walker’s dimpled smile is on display, meant for y/n only, but she is occupied and he spins around to head to the coffee shop alone. ✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧ Despite thinking that she has the strength, the will to do it, it starts to dawn on her that maybe she didn’t. She couldn’t fight him off, he requires her body once again. She is caught in a tide of lust and control – haunting the world inside of her. She is alone and if she wants to please him, she might as well do it honest, adorned in blood and bruises, all pain inflicted upon this body must keep his from the world, from Bucky, from her Bucky. In agony, in love, in worry – she is there for both of them. Metal fingers find the crest of her waist, his other hand skating slowly down the skin, from the chin to her neck, squeezing slightly. His erection crowds in her leg, rolling his hips into hers, the metal hand on her waist clamps tighter leaving the first marks of his assault. He starts flooding her with tiny kisses as she wraps her arms around his neck, pulling him closer. That unexpected movement makes him groan. „Ты мне нужен сегодня ночью...“ (I really need you tonight...) he whispers, his breath tickling her ear. In between kisses, he adds - the shell of a man speaking to you „Ты не можешь убежать от меня“ (You can’t run away from me) „Так вот, я бежать не хочу.“ (I don’t want to run) Soldat was stunned to hear her speak Russian. His fingers came up to trace her jawline, the cold metal leaving tingles on her smooth skin. Something in him changed - her grief like a migraine, she is the only scapegoat from his wretched humanity. Shall she grieve ? Shall she hope? Metal fingers danced through her hair, pulling it into a makeshift ponytail as the human hand started choking her slightly. „Пошли домой“ (Lets go home) „Ужасно хочу тебя трахнуть прямо сейчас“ (I really want to fuck you right now) he argues weakly, still struggling to control his breath.

Y/n’s stomach does a flip. She blinks for a few moments, trying to neutralize the look of worry that is sure is scrawled across her angel face. ✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧ Emotionally, she wanted to stay in hopes that Bucky comes back soon. Intellectually, she wanted to leave – but she has to punish herself so that after the she drinks of winter, spring will bloom. It was the first time that the Soldier came at daylight - her heart is sick of being in chains, but she is the savior as the winter takes one more cherry tree from the depths of her soul. He watched her for weeks, making sure no one touches his precious flower and here it is, the dark thing, the dark thing he has longed for months – at his mercy. He towering over her as he closes the distance between you. She lets out a deep sigh when he pulls away, eyes softening. “Can I?” She asks quietly and puts her long nails on his neck, drawing circles with fingers as red lines starts to form. The Soldat couldn’t speak, he just nods, moving his head to the side in order to give her flesh to explore. He growls shamelessly at her butterfly kisses across his neck, gliding her tongue along his earlobe, biting down gently to earn a groan. She's gentle, soft. Of course she smells of roses, but there's a bit of perfume as well while he smells of whiskey and misery.  She slaps the soldier harshly across the face, making his head turn to the other side - now her tongue is sucking and licking there and his arms squeeze her waist, pressing himself to her warmth. Y/n gives him a proper kiss for the first time.  Short, and just on the lips. It was meant for Bucky.

He had enough, Soldat grabs a fistful of her hair with one hand, pushing her down roughly to her knees. His calloused fingers graze over her chin, making her look up at him. She peers up at him meeting the blue eyes through dark lashes. Already her mouth is open, tongue hanging out, wordlessly pleading for him – anything. His dick twitches in his jeans. He slowly stuffs human fingers into her mouth, groaning as her lips fall around them, sucking like it is his dick. Y/n whimpers at the low timbre of his voice as he pulls her back by the hair, just to enjoy the sight before adding a third finger. She can only imagine what he must have planned for tonight. She immediately freezes up when his fingers leave – peering up at him from the floor while promptly undoing his belt, shallow gasp escapes her lips, wanting nothing more than to wrap her lips around his cock, its been a long time. Y/n catches her final deep breaths as she licks every single finger of her hands before putting them around his base. She gives the tip a modest, teasing lick before running her tongue around it is a talent of hers – both Bucky and Winter love it – wiftly swallowing every inch of him down her throat. Suddenly she feels his strong hand again, whirling around her hair more and pressing her down to his public region. She gags at the sudden intrusion, gurgling sounds fill the room and y/n eyes water, fucking her mouth with no mercy. His fiery blue eyes were almost widened from shock as he stares back at her, trying to steady his shaky breaths. He groans through gritted teeth as he forces her to take him further into her mouth. Quiet hums sent vibrations up through his cock causing shudders to crawl down his thighs. Soldat’s body shakes with pleasure as he forces his way into her mouth. Tears run down, mixing with the drool that's splashed around. His eyes roll back in pleasure - just playing around with his flower, while she stays all quiet and docile. Right now, she is shameless, she is still listening to the melody of his sounds - grunting and trying not to be too loud as he barely holds it. Her mouth tights as he hits the back of her throat over and over again while digging her nails in his tights to let him know that it is too much. Y/n attempts to breathe, but it results in more gagging noises and he locks her in that position – enjoying every tear that drops on her cheeks. He leans his head back and when she sucks on the tip, circling her delicate tongue around it as she restrains him in a vacuum-sealed, holding it in her mouth. He blacks out when he comes, the body tenses hard and then liquids rush into her mouth. He feels his knees buckle slightly at the sensation with an even heavier groan escaping his lips. Soldat withdrawals from her mouth slowly as she licks her lips to assure there is nothing left behind, he smirks looking down and decides to pull her back up by her hair. He throws her onto the bed, sighing and undoing his pants, removing them completely. He feels so high with this much adrenalin, with this much power and freedom. The knife is already in his hand, cutting through clothes. The marks on her body are his greatest mastery, Soldat’ smile lingers at the thought of leaving them all over. He trails the tip of it down to the edge of her panties, gulping slowly – with so much time and freedom he is unsure of his choice of action. He is still over the underwear, playing with the knife, seeing how deep the fabric can dip, tracing the folds he can reach, feeling how utterly soaked she is with precise precision of the blade.

The knife slices them as he lets out a whimper which causes her to twitch with fear, staring up at her incubus. Soldat presses the cool blade to her throat, a small line of blood starts to form. She cries out – a masochistic mixture of euphoria and pain. The knife is removed from her neck and replaced by his vibranian arm. He squeezes until he is satisfied with the angel eyes full of tears, she loves the way he is choking her…almost to death. He growls as he touches his dick with his hand, slowly forces his length into her, a throaty groan escaping his lips. They share a sickness that doesn't need fixing at all…flatline the heart, discard the brain - change her into whatever you feel like, she is not going anywhere.

He closes his eyes, lost in the moment – his own knife is pressed against his throat – she presses and the red pearls falls on her face and neck and that. It stings and Soldat whimpers about the pain, twitching inside her. He smirks, leaning down to her ear…leaning into the knife as more blood starts to flow. He growls lowly into her ear, sending a shiver down her spine, grunting with every merciless thrust that lurches her body with it, his hot breath - intoxicating.

„Из-за тебя я отлично чувствую этот нож….ласковый цветочек“ (Because of you, the touch of the knife fees good…tender flower) „Поцелуй меня“ (Kiss me) Before she can register what’s happening, she drops the knife to the side of her head and kisses him. His hand collides with her cheek, stinging and bringing more tears, biting her shoulder as his thrusts get rougher, the unwanted orgasm too close to be postponed any longer. His cock is throbbing, shooting load after load of warm, sticky cum. Even after cumming, he can't bring myself to stop the assault - planning an overdose on orgasms tonight. Y/n whines at the lost of the feeling of his body, but he flips her over like a drag doll, onto her stomach and she instinctively raises her ass into the air, waiting for him. He gathers both her wetness and cum with his two vibranium fingers, forcing their way inside of her hole with a brutal pace as his other hand shoves her back down into the mattress. Y/n let her eyes flutter shut when he brushed over the clit, hips jolting up and craving for more fingers. He groans into her skin at her reaction, leaving a trail of teeth makes on the back on her neck. The feeling of delight was unfortunately short-lived, however – he doesn’t plan on her cumming tonight. He is still jealous of her interactions with John for the past weeks, he planned on killing him before she stopped him. He turns her around, on her back as he soon fasted her pussy, his lips latches onto the clit, circling it with his warm, wet tongue. She writhes in pleasure beneath him at the duo sensation of his metal fingers moving inside and his mouth on the clit….but everything stops. Again. Again. Again. „Please, please…Bucky…“ she murmurs, she misses every part of him. „У меня ничего не осталось от моего другого я“ (Now I have nothing of my other self) „Здесь только мы с тобой“ (Only you and me here) Y/n looks down at him, the Soldier looking back from between her legs, not seeing his wide grin. He doesn’t like it when y/n mentions Bucky, but he is too dizzy from the pleasure, not punishing her for now, only giving a warning in Russian. He gives the clit one last abrupt lick before flopping down in the middle of the bed, slapping his thighs and commanding her to sit "Ride me" She hovering above his cock, sliding in one motion. She moans shamelessly as she finds a suitable rhythm, her hands firmly planting onto his neck and he mirrors her act, squeezing her tightly at her neck. As he is closer to the edge his sadist mind deprives her of any oxygen, her struggles to stay conscious and that slowly drives him over the edge - his throaty moans fill the room as he slams deep for the final time. Y/’s body is writhing, but his hand around her neck keeps her in place, knowing there’s no use in trying to fight him off.

As the grip around her neck looses she opens her mouth to take deep breaths. He takes advantage of this by spitting into it.

„Как ты, дорогая“ (How are you, darling?)

Soldat slaps her cheek, urging her to respond, but her head is so foggy with pleasure that the reaction is delayed.

„Я в порядке“ (I am fine)

„Грязная шалава“ (Dirty bitch)

He glared at her intensely and when his brain had fully calmed down, he flips her over onto her back so that he was on top. He wastes no time in pinning both her small arms above her head, hurling both over her legs over his shoulders as he starts slamming back inside. Closing her eyes, trembling with fear. There is a little cold kiss on her forehead and when he opens her eyes – her own revolver. He shows y/n the single round before placing it back, spinning the cylinder – Russian roulette. They stand together set in stone, hearts open wide - flames of afterlife getting closer. He counts to three and pulls the trigger. Her whole body tenses up, eyes closed. The Soldier exhales slowly, watching her eyes full of tears, shallowed by fear. „Your turn“

But the concept of it seems less gruesome then reality. The time seemingly stopped for a moment. Every time she blinked it presented itself. Memories. Regrets. Love. Fear.

The revolver feels impossibly heavy in her unsteady hands. Soldat takes a deep inhale through the nose as he eyes close. Index finger rests on the trigger. Click. Her soul is in a constant struggle between her need for Bucky, fear of losing him, and a desire to executes the Soldier herself. She was never really insane except upon occasions when Soldat played too much with her heart. His cold laugh alone drives her to tears, his pulsing cock starts pounding into her again – y/n is trapped in a nightmare, breathing just a little, calling it life. She wants a version of herself that isn’t neck-deep absorbed in this filth. „Bring him back…“ she is prepared to be devastated, but there was a need to confess. A misfit, people wanted to lock him in, but there she is – satisfying both of the Winter Soldier’s and Bucky’s needs…oh yeah, will Bucky remember when he comes back? ✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧

When she wakes up, he is gone. Y/n decides to look at herself in the mirror – there is a huge bruise on her neck as If she is stripped of beauty. She laughs, then she cries, choking on tears – haunted down by the Soldier even though she tries to stay away. Sometimes love is a slow burn that keeps you warm, and sometimes it's a bonfire that can't be contained…she is so worried about Bucky, the love in her heart demanding for his presence. Without him, she is nothing but a faint noise. She has to call him, to make sure that he is back after weeks wasted by stalking her as the Soldier. „Doll…why are you calling?“ The line goes dead. ✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧ ✭TAG LIST ✭ @smplymrvl @i-want-to-be-hit-by-a-car @msoldier @marvelxlevram @lovelywritinglady ✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧ "Fine, I'll do it myself." - me writing fics about daddy Soldat THIS IS WHAT I AM HERE FOR - THE WINTER SOLDIER LMAO BARKING RN

[leonw4nter]

Cool thanks for answering! In that case, can I ask for some headcanons about Leon and a younger sibling reader that has to work as an agent with him? Poor guy needs a bit of company in his misery.

Leon Headcanons on working with his agent sibling…

Any version of Leon + GN!Youngersibling (3 year gap) (TW : Mentions of alcoholism and smoking)

Had you not followed your older sibling into Raccoon City, desperately trying to get him from going in there after hearing reports of a mysterious yet lethal outbreak only to get tangled in this mess, you wouldn’t be standing in the dark office of the president of the United States, standing alongside your older brother.

You were just 19, like the other girl you and Leon came across in the city. Nineteen with big dreams of becoming a nurse and helping people take better care of their health, just like how Leon wanted to help people and keep them safe when he joined the police academy. Neither of you expected your lives to turn out this way, as lap dogs for the government’s fight against bioterrorism.

For missions, you and Leon were usually separated because they deemed him better than you. Of course, you wanted to be with your brother and same went for him but he had missions he couldn’t say no to or else Sherry and Claire would be in danger. You trained hard and proved yourself to the bigwigs of USSTRATCOM but they continued to send you on missions different from Leon’s. Leon felt slight relief at that; his missions were far more taxing and demanding and getting you endangered would be too much for him to handle.

Leon would usually frequent nearby bars to drink after a particularly harsh mission, often falling drunk inside the bars and needing to be picked up by you. It broke your heart to see him like this, getting drunk and relying on bottles of alcohol to escape whatever was plaguing his mind. Most nights involved you taking care of him, tucking him in and placing medicine along with a glass of water for his hangover the next morning.

You would quietly cry to yourself when you saw Leon this way because it reminded you of how Leon took care of you when you were sick, your older sibling doing his best to make you feel better and get back to full health back in the orphanage. You rarely got to express what you truly felt since your line of work required you to appear strong and unbreaking. You knew how exhausted and miserable Leon is so you usually kept thoughts and feelings to yourself.

Leon didn’t mind eating anything that was edible but not nutritious; as long as he had something to eat in order to sustain himself for the next few days in the mission, he considered himself lucky. Seeing you eat what he usually ate made him feel horrible; you were trying not to gag on the snake meat, not even chewing the raw meat and just straight up swallowing it to avoid having the taste in your mouth. He tried his best to make sure you had better food so you wouldn’t look even more miserable than you already are.

You were who Leon first thought of when Shen Mei refused to leave her younger brother as her mansion blew up and slowly crumbled down to the ground. As much as he wanted to save Jun See and her, all of his efforts would be futile so he had no choice but to rush her out. He saw the state Jun See was in and that further strengthened his resolve on making sure that nothing ever happens to you.

Your and his early life was difficult, usually having to move and end friendships with schoolmates and neighbors because your family had connections to crime syndicates. You don’t remember much about the death of your parents, except that Leon refused to have you look at them until they were ready for a burial and made sure that they looked less unsettling with their lifeless eyes and pale skin tainted with blood. From then on, he took on a parental role in your life.

When he asked Hunnigan if she could fake his and Helena’s deaths, he also requested that she tell him the exact way you reacted. Of course, you didn’t take it well; you had just gotten off of a physically-demanding mission in Serbia and badly needed sleep. 

“Y/N. There’s something I have to tell you,” Hunnigan’s voice came from the other end of the line. Adjusting the phone to your other hand and tucking the one that previously held the phone into the pocket of your trousers, you leaned against the wall. Your tired gaze drifted over to the wall-mounted TV, playing the news. Suddenly, the broadcast was interrupted and news of the President’s death was publicised. There were also other deaths reported, specifically deaths of agents close to the President, one of those names being your older brother’s. “Your brother’s dead.” Hunnigan somberly disclosed. “I’m sorry for your loss.” The phone almost slips from your hands, your grip faltering as they tremor. The room is spinning and even breathing feels like a chore, tears wetting your eyes before they leave salty trails on your bruised cheeks. “No he’s not,” you assert in denial. “No, Hunnigan. He’s not– they just misidentified a body, right?” Hunnigan’s silence spoke volumes. In a culmination of the lack of sleep, the flurry of emotions, and the denial of the fact that the last person keeping you connected to your family is dead, you ended up snapping and losing your composure, screaming into the television and crying.

In order to cope with his death, you picked up a habit of his: drinking. Worse, you tried smoking. The smoke tasted horrible but the tar drying up your throat felt better compared to the dryness caused by endless crying and screaming at God for taking him away from you– if there even was one to begin with.

Despite having practically begged your superiors to not be placed in a mission because you couldn’t do it, they didn’t heed your requests and still sent you to missions overseas. Many times you contemplated not returning home, just going MIA or dying in a country unknown to you– foreign blood on foreign soil. Leon wasn’t alive anymore, there was no one to live for, and the government wants you to keep working for them until a BOW eventually snuffs the life out of you so what was the point of even living?

Six months later, Leon managed to come back to you in one piece. You thought that it was a cruel hallucination induced by the ungodly lack of sleep and the drunken state you were in after having finished a myriad of bitter drinks. Heavy footfalls neared you before stopping at your side, a warm and very much alive Leon giving you a tight hug. Of course, you slowly snapped out of the habit and started taking care of yourself again, even if it was hard to stem a vice.

After a certain mission and being laid off for a little bit, you attempted to knock some sense back into him. You tried to get him to stop drinking, though it was no use. It upset you to see him do the same things you did when you thought that he died, knowing how self-destructive this can get if no one is there to get him out of it. Luckily for you, Chris and Rebecca managed to help you get him back on his feet and start his journey towards sobriety.

Fortunately, you and him were transferred under the DSO and have been sent on missions together, much to your relief. Though it was still a misery doing these things with no definite end in sight, it felt comforting to be with your brother. The latest mission in Alcatraz was a partial success: Dylan Blake being dead but Antonio Taylor, the man you two were sent to retrieve, is also dead.

Leon groans as he rolls his shoulder, a hand coming up to where the bullet scar in his shoulder to ease the tension in his muscles. “God, we’re getting too old for this,” he jokingly mumbles as he continues to stretch his limbs on the way to the helicopter that will pick everyone up. “Who’s ‘we’? That’s just you, pops. I’m still relatively young,” you cockily respond with a mischievous smirk. He just rolls his eyes and scoffs, walking in silence to the elevator. You see Claire in front of you and you wave with a small smile, Leon averting his gaze to elsewhere and Claire following suit. “You should seriously set things right with her again,” you softly suggest. You knew about the falling out between her and Leon, the two never having spoken to each other in a long time due to their differences. Claire had her reasons to be upset but Leon didn’t act on it because he wanted to keep defending the government and their questionable stances regarding the war against BOWs; he simply wanted to keep Claire safe, make sure that the government wouldn’t hurt her. “Yeah. I’ll… I’ll think about it,” Leon quietly mutters. You give him a small pat, adding an encouraging squeeze to his shoulder (more like giving the shoulder strap of his compact bullet-proof vest a squeeze).

NOTE - I finally managed to do this request!!!! A bunch of requests have been marinating in my inbox so to be able to accomplish this one feels heavenly. I hope that the anon who requested this headcanons (that sorta turned into drabbles... sorry I got carried away) would like this :)) Anyways, I got a weird ass request but declined to write it (i replied to it) and I came across another blog who also got a request where the reader is also itchy so this is... interesting... Be careful out there, there's weirdos lurking :/ Umm that's it, I hope you enjoyed this and TYSMMM for reading my works!!!!!!!! I <33333 UUUUUUUU!!!!!!!!!!

The hanging star divider is made by @benkeibear , the images are from Pinterest.

[mistystepmoonbeam]

Reborn into BG3: Chapter 10

You're reborn into BG3 with only the memory of your past life. Now you're Tav's companion on his journey, and must learn about yourself as much as your new reality.

Chapter 10: Tiefling party time! And Scratch finally makes an appearance.

Word count: 2K

Warnings: Drinking--reader gets drunk!

A/N: I can't believe how many of you want more Tav x Reader romance lol

You find yourself sitting at the edge of the river during the tieflings party, staff upright and twirling between your fingers.  The small length of sand between the water and the grass behind you is soft enough to let you sink down an inch, but the scattered stones don’t let you disappear like you want.  The party is in full swing and you’re hiding in the shadows beyond the small rock arch beside Wyll’s tent, moping. 

Well, the noise was aggravating your headache too, but still.  At least out here it’s quieter than in your tent.  

“And here I thought I would be the only one hiding myself away during the celebration.”  Wyll sits beside you, two silver goblets of wine in his hands.  He passes you the closest one which you take. 

“Loud noises and head injuries don’t mix,” you say with a sniff at the wine.  It’s dark outside but you can tell it’s white wine, nose tingling at the high alcohol content.  Without much thought you down the cup.  It passes over your tongue with barely any taste.

“But alcohol and misery do,” he counters, watching you press the bottom of the goblet into the sand.  “I thought the devil might have spooked you but something tells me that’s not the case.”

You move your eyes over the water.  “I was just thinking about how much I’m going to miss you guys.  I know it hasn’t been that long since we met but you’re literally the only people I know.  I just…don’t know what I’m going to do in the morning.”

“What are you talking about?” Wyll questions.  When you only offer him a shrug in return he watches you carefully.  If you were looking in his direction you would feel smaller than you already do under his scrutiny.  Finally he says, “Perhaps that devil did get in your head.  Whatever he said, whatever he promised, don’t consider it for a second.”

How could you not?  Raphael only said what you were thinking.

The alcohol forces a warmth through your body that you don’t want.  It was too much like the kindness you’ve been offered so many times since waking here, too much like the magic used to heal your repeated injuries.  You bring your knees to your chest and wrap your arms around them.  

“I’m not.”  Liar, you think.  You’re even considering going to Auntie Ethel.  “And he didn’t get in my head.”

“Then what are you talking about, missing us?”

“I mean,” you say, maybe a little too forcefully, “that when you go I will notice you’re gone.”

You huff and shift in the sand.  Wyll runs a hand over his face, muttering, “By the gods you’re just as foolhardy as me.” 

He sets his goblet in the sand and faces you.  “And where will you be when we’re gone?”

You shrug and throw your hands in front of yourself.  “I don’t know!  Without the tadpole or any idea who I am, I have no idea!”

In your outburst you grab Wyll’s goblet and down what was left, about half of it.  It stings your nose and throat, something much stronger than the drink he’d given you.  Far too politely, he lets you do this and watches.  You cough and inhale harshly, head already starting to spin.  But maybe that’s the concussion and the couple of drinks you’d had earlier…

“Did someone tell you you’re not welcome here?” Wyll asks.  His voice hints at his amusement more than the downturn of his lips.  “I can’t imagine Tav sending anyone away.  He’s just found a frog that he insists stay with us.”

You tilt your head in agreement and lean back until you’re laying in the sandy grass.  There’s a rock poking at one of the many bruises on your back but you ignore it.  Your mind grows foggy, and you run your hands over your face in hopes of clarity.  But all you get is…you’re not even sure.  More sadness?  Anger?  And at what?  Not the group.  The gods?  Whichever one put you here and didn’t let you remember who you are, only who you were?

Philosophical questions of identity and perception cross your mind but you’re now too tipsy to think them through.  You cover your eyes with your forearms.

“I miss…” you begin, but you can’t finish the sentence.  “I just want to remember something other than what is.  He made it sound like…like he knew me.  Not just giving me my memory back, but he knew me.”

“Devils are fantastic liars,” Wyll tells you.  “Come on, I think we should clear some things up with the others.”

You listen to him stand and then feel his hand gently grab your upper arm.  He gives you a pull and you let him get you to your feet with little resistance.  You hug your staff to you, unwilling to let go of Tav’s gift.  If not for Wyll leading you and the staff to lean on, you’d be stumbling along the path or just falling down, but he manages to get you to Gale and Karlach who are drinking by the tiefling siblings as Rolan performs firework tricks.  

Before he can say a word you spot a fluffy white tail nearby, and despite your swirling vision you recognize the owner immediately.  

“Oh my God,” you shout, kneeling (well, fall, really) onto your knees as Scratch barks at Rolan, making the tiefling flinch.   “Puppy!”

Scratch turns to you and pounces when he sees you’re on the ground with him.  He knocks you onto your back and licks your face–by now you’re too drunk to even notice.  You scratch behind his ears and squish his face, laughing as he rubs his face against yours.  You’re mumbling about what a good boy he is when he lays down on you, resting his full weight on your torso.  He’s…heavier than he looks in the game.

You groan, waving a hand at the companions around you.  Someone throws something towards the centre of camp and Scratch takes off, using your stomach as a launchpad.  You nearly vomit at the sudden pressure and roll onto your side.

A hand lowers to you.  Your body is shaky but you manage to grab hold of it and he helps you to your feet, even picking up your forgotten staff and passing it back to you.  Of course, it’s Wyll that gives you a solid foundation to stand on.

“Karlach, Gale,” the warlock begins, “our dear friend here thinks we’ll be sending them off alone, what are your thoughts on that?”

Karlach and Gale exchanged a confused glance before looking at you.  Gale says, “Just because you don’t have a mindflayer tadpole doesn’t mean we’re leaving you behind.”

He’s too smart, you think.  And his shirt looks so soft right now, the perfect pillow.  You waver left and right, eyelids growing heavy.  It’d be so easy to just lean forward and close your eyes…no!  Awake, be awake!  The alcohol is twisting your thoughts too well.  But Gale is too polite too, if you just happened to rest on his super soft sweater a moment, right?

“Is that what that means?”   Karlach’s eyes widen and she nearly drops her cup.  “Haven’t you heard of no soldier left behind?  We aren’t just going to leave you here like a stray cat.”

You pout, eyes on your staff.  “I’m not useful without the tadpole, though.”

“You weren’t useful with it,” Gale responds.  If looks could kill, Gale would be cinders from Karlach’s glare when you lift your head.  He holds up a hand in surrender.  “What I mean is that we may have all come together because of our ocular insertions, but there’s no need to separate without them.  I would be—disappointed to see you go, but if that’s what you want, I won’t stop you.”

Karlach shifts.  “I guess I won’t either, but I will try to change your mind!”

Wyll’s hands are on your shoulders.  “Do you want us to go on without you?  It’s a dangerous journey and without the parasite it would make sense for you to be the one to leave us.”

“No!”  You cover your mouth with one hand, realising just how loud you’d shouted.  The younger siblings, Cal and Lia,  look at you curiously before going back to teasing Rolan.  Quietly you repeat, “No.  I want to—I want to help.”

It sounded a little more mature than “I want to hang out with you some more”, at least, or “please for the love of god don’t leave me I have no idea what I’m doing”.

You blink slowly at them, eyes scanning the area in hopes of hiding whatever emotion is clear on your face.  You’re sure it must be sadness, but there’s a smile threatening to rise at the thought they want you to stay with them.  Tears, too.  

“I think I need water,” you mumble, “lots of water.”

“Excuse me.”  The voice draws everyone’s attention to one of the tiefling guards.  Arka.  It’s a good thing you’re drunk because the shock you feel is delayed enough for you to keep it hidden.  She’s watching you, her expression a mixture of sorrow and anger, but it soon turns to defeat.   She wets her lips.  “I heard about what happened—Mirkon asked me to thank you.”

You tilt your head, unable to remember the name. 

Arka’s own brow furrows in confusion.  “You told the druids about him going to the beach; the guards found him about to be harpy food—they’d been so busy with the rite they hadn’t bothered to clear out the nest over there.”

There’s a deep venom in her words about the druids, and maybe at you for not remembering any of it.  Or maybe it’s just in your head because the world is getting a little—twirlier, than you’re used to.

“Right,” you say.  “I’m glad he’s okay.”

“Why didn’t you tell me?” Karlach questions.  “I just got my upgrade, I coulda taken those harpies no problem!”

“Four harpies is a lot for even you,” you respond.

“Hey, you tell me about your next bad feeling and I’ll prove you wrong.”  Karlach laughs loudly.  She tells the others of your “bad feeling” about the singing and the boy, and mentions how she’s taken on worse than a few harpies.

If you weren’t so out of it you might have noticed both Gale and Wyll watching you closely.  With more than concern for a drunk friend, but you don’t ask what they’re thinking.  Another death you prevented.  Not to mention one too many details—how did you know it was four harpies?

When Arka turns to leave you grab her wrist.  “You don’t have to do it.  Memnos—that’s his name—Memnos will be sad.  They need you for what’s coming in the…the—what is it—the dark place.”

Your eyes are closed for this speech.  You can clearly see her dead body in your mind, but it’s not on a screen, it’s real.  So real you can smell the blood and feel the breeze on your skin as you look down at her corpse.

Silence overtakes you as you pass out a moment.  You’re jolted awake a few seconds later by Gale, his hands on both your shoulders when you look at him.  “Oh, I’m so glad you don’t have a boar head.”

But behind him Arka’s eyes are wide—terrified.  Gale begins to lead you towards your tent.  “Apologies for our friend here.  As you can see, wine loosens the tongue of its nonsense.”

Arka points a finger at you, her shock now turned to anger.  “How could you possibly know that?”

You lean into Gale’s side, trying to remember what she’s talking about.  “Know what?”

“That I was—that tonight I…”  Her words trail off.  She gulps whatever else she was going to say and shakes her head, spinning on her heel and joining Memnos and Alfira on the other side of camp.

You look at Gale, or more accurately his shoulder and that soft, soft sweater.  You lean your head on it and ask, “What do I know?”

You’re not sure if you’re supposed to hear his reply.  “More than we thought, it seems.”

Taglist:

@half-poison-and-half-hope @sanscas @hotmesshobbit @godoffuckedupcats @thequeen-oni @terrenuserinj @straewberrysoda @theomnipotentfox @becksynthetic @quitecontrary-to-mary @furblrwurblr @mega-trash-cringe @fandomsbookclub @dontneedbiologytoadopt @pebble-bb @v3lv3tvampir3 @mrow-kat @jeneralmischief @notsaelty @runaway-17 @aoirohi @tinswhimsy @xxgrimripp3rxx @kemonocat-blog @thetiredtoad0-0 @sleepydang @iwannabealocalcryptid

[shuahoonie]

about you | joshua hong

pairing: non-idol!joshua (svt) x gn!reader

notes: tooth-aching fluff, swearing, alcohol consumption, platonic!svt x reader, drunken confessions, mutual pining, friends to lovers ?

word count: 1.5k

summary: a drunk and sulky joshua won't leave you alone until you tell him you love him back.

“come get ur man pls” a text from seungkwan appeared on the top of your phone while you were scrolling absentmindedly on tiktok.

tonight was one of the rare nights that the boys had a relatively free weekend. it was the perfect chance for them to catch up and have a drink or two.

though you anticipated that the boys were going to get wasted, you didn’t expect joshua to be one of them.

joshua hong can usually hold his liquor well. joshua hong also knows when to stop drinking when he’s almost at his limit.

however, seungkwan’s unsolicited yet appreciated updates have disproven all things you thought you knew about joshua’s drinking habits.

“are you not having fun, jihoon?” you teased. it wasn’t long before jihoon decided to call you.

“i’m close to committing murder,” jihoon muttered from the other line “you have to come and help me here.”

“what about seungkwan?”

“he’s got his hands full from soonyoung alone,” jihoon stated. “please, i did not ask to babysit grown men.”

“you guys got this!” you wanted to laugh. “is josh—“

“he’s the worst one! i don’t even know what’s gotten into him, he’s so sulky all of a sudden” jihoon was frustrated “please, just come here and at least accompany joshua.”

“is that yn on the line?” you heard seungkwan from the other line “ynnie! please, if you truly love me, you’d come and save me from this misery.”

“you guys are not making a compelling case, you know.” you teased knowing well enough that jihoon and seungkwan were getting frustrated. “besides, i was quite firm that tonight is your night to bond as a group.”

“we’ve bonded for years! please,” seungkwan practically cried on the other line “oh god, soonyoung’s standing on the a table— hyung! get down from there!”

you can hear the chaos from their line and you feel bad that they had to endure all of this. “are you guys still at wonu’s?” you asked already putting your jacket on and grabbing your keys.

“yes! please hurry!”

by the time you got to the dorms, you were mentally preparing for the rowdiness that you could hear emitting from the other side of the door.

"ynnie!" soonyoung ran to the doors to greet you with a suffocating hug "are you finally here to confess your undying love for joshy?" he asked, sparkles practically dancing in his eyes.

"soonie, you're drunk." you tried to laugh it off, obviously flustered by the comment. "why don't you go see if wonu or vernon can grab you some water, yeah?"

soonyoung pouted but eventually obliged.

"yn!" seungkwan was practically in tears when he greeted you with a hug "i really thought you were going to let me fend off for myself."

"you know i actually thought about it," you teased. seungkwan, obviously who was not in the mood for fooling around, threw daggers at you. "now where's—"

"ynnie!" joshua’s entire face practically brightened when he saw you look for him. “oh wait, no, i forgot i’m mad.” he pouted as he crossed his arms.

you found joshua squished between jeonghan and mingyu in one of the couches. jun was sprawled all over the loveseat, clearly passed out, while minghao and chan sat on the floor. they all gave you kind smiles as you approached them closer.

“yn! come, sit beside me,” jeonghan offered with a lopsided smile. you can tell he was buzzed too.

“no, yn has to sit next to me!” joshua moped with a huff.

jeonghan put his arms in defeat. "i was suggesting that yn should sit in between us, but it's okay. yn can sit next to you and only you." he teased, prompting joshua to glare at him.

"i think i'll just stand" you stated awkwardly, grabbing the can of coke that jihoon politely offered. seungcheol, who was standing right next to you let out a teasing laugh. "what are you laughing at?" you raised an eyebrow at him.

"it's just cute how you and shua keep dancing around each other's feelings, obviously ignoring the fact that you two like each other," he grinned.

you elbowed him in the rib, making him groan and mumble a string of profanities.

"what? but it's true! i know we were drinking that day, but i will never forget the most lovesick giggle i heard from you when shua congratulated you over phone," cheol teased in a hushed tone. curse cheol's memory.

"choi seungcheol, speak another word and i will break your nose." you grumbled, which only made cheol laugh even more.

"what are you two whispering about?" hao asked you and cheol while he quietly observed joshua's change in demeanour, which didn't go unnoticed.

"oh, you know, how i love love," cheol said in a teasing tone. "and watching people i love fall in love," he sighed.

you rolled your eyes and took a sip of the coke, of hoping that cheol drops the topic soon. your eyes briefly scanned joshua's face though, he still had his arms crossed, pouting like there was no tomorrow.

minghao, who instantly picked up cheol's cryptic statement, couldn't help but laugh. mingyu, who was quietly sipping his beer, was fighting off a smile too. fuck, am i that obvious?

gyu cleared off his throat, "does anyone want more samgyupsal?" he asked, ready to head towards the kitchen.

"yeah, we can help." minghao said, grabbing chan by the arm, confused by everything. "c'mon chan, let's see what's in their fridge."

"you can take my seat, ynnie," mingyu grinned as he pinched your cheeks passing by, prompting you to slap his hand. "so cute, our shua and ynnie."

it wasn't long before the rest of the guys followed gyu to the kitchen, leaving you and joshua alone on the couch— as well as a sleeping jun.

this was definitely a sight for sore eyes. when joshua drinks, he can usually handle his alcohol quite well. he also doesn’t really get blackout drunk. so all this? a pouty, sulky, practically red, and wasted joshua was something you’ve never encountered.

"joshua," you nudged him softly "can you please tell me why you're mad?"

"i thought i was your joshuji?" he pointed out softly. he looked adorable and it was not doing your heart any good.

"okay, my joshuji," you laughed "can you tell me why you're mad?"

"it's because you didn't say it back," he huffed.

you were genuinely confused. "say what back?" you asked before taking a sip from your drink.

"i love you," the way he stated it so easily and with nonchalance made you choke on your coke. "see? you're not saying it back."

"shuji, when did you even say that?" you asked in between coughs.

"earlier," he mumbled before slouching lower so he can rest his head on your shoulder. "when seungkwan called you."

"ynnie! how am i just finding out that you're not going to be here?!" seungkwan yelled over the phone. you can hear the chaos from the other line and from what you can tell, they're playing a drinking game.

"because i figured you guys needed to bond without me looming and babysitting each one of you," you answered as you scanned through your cupboards, looking for something to eat.

"but i miss you!" seungkwan cried. "how am i supposed to endure all of this when— i just took a shot! why is it my turn again?"

"okay, seungkwan love shot!" you heard joshua yell gleefully.

"kwannie, was that joshua?" you asked laughing.

"yeah, your boyfriend has been way too comfortable passing shots around." seungkwan grumbled then paused "hold on, i think—"

"ynnieee," joshua drawled out your name "love youuu."

"shua, can you pass the phone to seungkwan please?" you asked chuckling.

"yes? did you change your mind?" seungkwan's tone was full of hope.

"no, but can you keep tabs on joshua? it seems like he's going to drink more than he normally does."

"you can do that yourself, you know." you could just feel kwannie rolling his eyes. "he's not my boyfriend."

"he's not mine either!"

"he might as well be!" seungkwan pointed out "you two have been acting way too affectionate for a pair of friends."

"just watch him for me," you sighed "please, kwannie?"

"fine."

ah. that phone call.

"i was actually telling seungkwan to watch over you but i guess he got his hands full," you said softly to joshua.

"why?"

"what do you mean why?"

"why did you ask seungkwan to do that?"

"because i care about you?" you answered, though you weren't really sure why joshua was asking you this.

"okay," joshua sighed, nearly content with your answer. nearly.

his hand found yours though and clasped his fingers against yours. it's not like this is all new to you. you were quite used to joshua being clingy, more so when drunk.

"yn?" you hummed. "i love you" he mumbled softly.

"yeah, me too."

"why aren't you saying it back properly?" he sulked. god, not this again.

"i love you too, shuji," you said softly and that was true.

"really?" joshua asked as if you weren't sure, making you laugh.

"yeah."

"okay, because i really love you," he sighed, fully content this time. "in this life and in our next one."

hello! it's been a while since i wrote anything remotely related to fanfics! so, i hope this is still fine. hehe.

[bettyfrommars]

the corner of Heartache & Jameson

18+only, cemetery meet cute, talk of grief and death, allusions to depression and alcohol consumption. Eddie is grieving and so is reader.

wc: 706

You hug yourself against the brisk, icy wind, flexing the collar of your coat up to cover your ears as you stand in the cemetery staring with wet eyes at the headstone in front of you.

“Sometimes I hate you for this, you know?” You scowl and shuffle your feet.  “For dying on me like you did, for leaving me alone here in this shitty world.  It’s not fair.”

Your grandmother’s name is spelled out on the cement slab, and there are fresh poinsettias just below it that will soon suffocate under the freshly fallen snow.  The sun is down and darkness crowds in around you, as if stumbling over shafts of light in its eagerness to be by your side.  You don’t avoid them like others might; you let them curl into you like stray cats and make a home.

You silently dare the gathering shadows to do with you what they will.  

You sniff back a sob and wipe tears from your eyes with angry yanks across your cheeks.  “I came to say I love you and I miss you and I wish you were here.  I don’t have anyone to spend the holidays with so—-”

Footsteps crunch in the snow and you hear a lighter flick.

You look up to see the small flame from a few yards away, and then, a face. 

“Did I scare you?” A man's voice asks, lit cigarette bobbing between his lips.

He sucks in a drag, and you scoff at whoever it is, irritated that he would dare to interrupt your therapeutic, sulking rant to your dead grandmother at her grave.  

“Quite presumptuous of you to think you’d have any effect on me,” you bite, wrapping your arms around your ribcage tighter, feeling for the pepper spray in your coat pocket, just in case.  

“I’m sorry,” he says softly.  He lowers the cigarette, and you can only see his silhouette against the falling snow.  “I’m just not used to bumping into people out here this time of night.”

“You hang out in the cemetery a lot? How hardcore of you.” Your tone is mocking, you want him to leave.  You wish to be alone with your misery and the several travel-size bottles of Jameson.

“These past few months, yeah,” he admits with a shrug.  You can see the outline of his hand and the bright cherry glow on his smoke.  “Since my uncle passed.  He’s right over there.”

He sticks his elbow out to the right, in a general direction.  As if he can’t look, as if it’s still too hard. 

“He raised me,” he offers, as if to accentuate the point that the man had not been just any uncle.  “So, I like to come here and get sad, too, you know?”

You relax your hand on the pepper spray.  You relax your jaw too, and for a brief second, you hope that he is the grim reaper coming to take you away from this earthly hell.

He takes a tentative step closer, and in the dim glow of the moonlight, you can finally see the gentle curves of his face.  “Names Eddie,” he shoves one hand into the front pocket of his jeans and flicks ash from his smoke with the other.  Other than ripped jeans and sneakers, he only has on a threadbare concert tee and a thin leather jacket.

You don’t tell him your name because you’re not sure if you want to know anyone anymore.  Being alone is better, being alone is safe.  

But you can’t help but notice: “Are you cold?”

He snorts a laugh. “I kinda am, yeah. I didn’t really expect to come out here.  It just…happened.”

You understood the compulsion.  You’d driven to the cemetery in your pajamas once in a fit of grief.  

You felt in your other pocket for the tiny bottles of alcohol and rolled them around in your fingers so that they sounded like crashing marbles.  You held one up to him by the glass neck.  “You want to come back to my car and get warm? Be sad together?”

“Well, it is the holidays,” he tried not to smile but couldn’t help the grin that crept up one side of his face like the Grinch with an idea.  “Sucks to be alone this time of year.”

[least-carpet]

I am curious: how do you think would work realistically a jc and wwx's reconciliation? Have you any meta on them and their relationship?

I'm sorry this took a minute, anon! Work has been frankly chaotic. But I saw an anti-reconciliation post¹ and I have been roused from my post-work stupor.

Unfortunately, you asked me for something I'm incompetent at, which is plotting. (Otherwise I would have already unleashed my ningcheng fic upon the world.) What I can talk about is what I find compelling about potential reconciliation and potential scenarios.

Why do I love a post-canon reconciliation?

Apart from really liking their relationship and finding it compelling—IMO it's the heart of the narrative of the first life—what I actually enjoy about it is what it offers in terms of development for Wei Wuxian.

I read Wei Wuxian as having displaced and projected a lot of his unresolved trauma onto Jiang Cheng. I've talked a little before about my reading of Jiang Cheng as the "bad feelings" sin eater of the Yunmeng Trio—neither Jiang Yanli nor Wei Wuxian feel like they can express deep unhappiness, but Jiang Cheng is bad at hiding his, so in some way it's his job to embody the collective unhappiness of the children of that family system.

But although this makes Wei Wuxian merry and likeable, it's not actually good for anyone, or even sustainable—when he loses control, he really loses control. And his coping skills are extremely self-destructive, as we can see from the post-war downward spiral of drinking and avoidance. I also think his experiences in his childhood (losing his parents and being homeless) plus his wartime experiences gave him some kind of trauma disorder that contributes to his terrible memory, which he's turned into his primary coping mechanism (apart from alcohol). If I Simply Close My Eyes And Run Away, My Bad Feelings Can't Get Me!

But, like, repressing your feelings doesn't work forever. He's compartmentalized his whole first life to function in the second one, but that means giving up on everything and everyone he loved, including the Jiang siblings and Lotus Pier. That's incredibly tragic to me.

Sometimes I think antis are so happy to demonize Jiang Cheng in order to minimize the depth of the loss Wei Wuxian has suffered. If he never loved Jiang Cheng, if they were never close and devoted to one another, if their childhood was an unending misery, then wouldn't Wei Wuxian be much freer in the present?

But what I think has happened is that the loss is so huge that it's completely terrifying and threatening. So are the feelings around killing Jin Zixuan, Jiang Yanli's death, and the death of Wen Qing and the Wen remnants. It's too much, so he blocks it out or, in some cases, projects it onto Jiang Cheng.

Of course, Jiang Cheng will never forgive him, because he irreparably ruined Jiang Yanli's life and then she died trying to save him and Jin Ling became an orphan. It's all his fault; it can't be forgiven; he might as well give up on it...

Jiang Cheng is obviously very angry and upset with him, it's true. But you can see how projecting his guilt and shame over his actions onto Jiang Cheng and then running away from Jiang Cheng is also a way for him to escape his guilt and shame over what happened to Jiang Yanli. (And to escape all the repressed resentment he has for Jiang Cheng because of the core transfer.²)

But there are two tragic elements of this approach. One, that by doing this he yields up any possible relationship with Jiang Cheng, and with the Jiang Sect, because by all means Wei Wuxian must escape him in order to outrun his terrible feelings. Two, that it's another coping mechanism that distorts the reality of the situation, which is that they were all swept up in power games beyond their capacity to manage, and they did their best—the Jiang siblings, the Wen siblings, Jin Zixuan, and Wei Wuxian—and it still went badly for everyone except the Jin Sect.

I don't think he can confront that yet. But I do think that Wei Wuxian feels very safe with Lan Wangji, and sometimes a safe and supportive relationship can provide the resources to do things you didn't think you could do before.

Can you imagine a different conversation, that begins with the bald acknowledgement of failure and wrongdoing³? "I never meant for all of that to happen. I did what I thought was right, but I never thought Jiang Yanli would be harmed, and I didn't intend to kill Jin Zixuan. I am so sorry. I miss her."

GIVE THE CATHARSIS TO ME. GIVE IT HERE.

A Wei Wuxian who has reached a point where he's capable of that accountability and vulnerability is delicious to me. A Wei Wuxian who can get there can return to Lotus Pier and rebuild a relationship with the living sect and his living sect brother.

How could it happen?

The trick is how to get there, 'cause it's like trying to herd cats where one cat is mortally afraid of facing the second and the other one has betrayal trauma and abandonment issues. But the cats love each other! They do!

I don't see Jiang Cheng initiating. I see him as being more open to a reconciliation, now that he knows why Wei Wuxian did what he did, but I see him as being profoundly afraid of trapping people in relationship with him or inflicting himself on people who don't want him around. (Not, like, for politics. In that arena I assume he's unpleasant when necessary to great effect.)

Fortunately, Wei Wuxian can be led if you're cunning enough to do it and you bait the trap with something good (see the plot of MDZS for Nie Huaisang's very successful demonstration of this principle). He also will increase pursuit if you dangle and withdraw the bait.

The question, of course, is what makes good bait for catching Wei Wuxian. Some options:

Option 1: murder mystery. Someone dies in an exciting way that involves Jiang Cheng. (Wei Wuxian will involve himself, dude loves a murder mystery.) It could be in the Jiang Sect or the Jin Sect; if it involves Jin Ling, Jiang Cheng will jump in with a swiftness.

Option 2: Jiang Cheng marriage rumours. Doesn't even have to involve unsavoury rumous about the potential wife; Jiang Cheng getting married without him (like Jiang Yanli) would dredge up some feelings, I think.

Option 3: Jiang Cheng tragic illness or curse rumours. You better be sure it was in a past life, cause it looks like this one might be over soon!

Option 4: Forced together time (due to a night hunt or a kidnapping, etc.). It's time for the getting along shirt!

To borrow from SVSSS, you might need a scenario-pusher for it to happen. But the world of MDZS is rife with these opportunities, and cultivators can live a very long time. So there's hope yet!

Footnotes:

1. This is a perfectly reasonable viewpoint to come to by the end of the novel. It's simply one I don't share.

2. See this passage from the confrontation in the Guanyin Temple:

"It wasn’t something he liked to reminisce about. He didn’t want to be reminded again and again of what it felt like when his core was cut out or what price he had to pay. If this were exposed in the past, he’d most likely laugh and comfort Jiang Cheng … But now, he indeed didn’t have the strength left to put up such a confident, nonchalant pretense.

From the bottom of his heart, he knew he wasn’t so indifferent about it after all.

Was it really that easy to move on from such a thing?

Of course not." (Chapter 103, "Hatred," ExR translation)

3. I saw a different post complaining about Wei Wuxian apologizing to Jiang Cheng in reconciliation scenarios, and I just, like, he kicked off a political firestorm that ended in the death of Jiang Yanli and her husband. This is completely separate from the non-consensual surgery and all the lying he was doing about that. He owes him multiple different apologies! And Jiang Cheng should also apologize to him! That's why they apologize to each other in the Temple, because they know they hurt each other! The point of an apology in an intimate relationship is to connect with the person you are apologizing to in order to repair the relationship, and the Temple was not the time, which is why they need a private do-over! It's not humiliation, it's intimacy, connection, and repair. How do y'all live your lives.

3.5 Also, imagine it to be more in-character than that.

[blackdollette]

"we're gettin' high now." | clyde

venice bitch. - lana del rey

⊹₊⋆ summary: you woke up with a nasty cold, so clyde put it upon himself to make you feel better. whatever it took.

✮⋆˙ [tags] @faesucksass @lustkillers @mayathepsychic1999@josibunn @livingdead-materialgirl @romanroyapoligist@auggiethecreator @oliviah-25 @vanlisbon @lankysimp @livingdead-reilly

sick!female!reader x clyde

word count: 1.4k

contents: a little fluffy, mentions of drugs and alcohol, blowjob, facefucking, cum eating, facial

you covered your mouth with the sleeve of your oversized hoodie, coughing up a mouthful of phlegm as you inhale the cloud of smoke that clyde just exhaled. you shot him a glare. “seriously? do you have to do that right now?” a puzzled expression settled on his face. then he glanced at the joint in his hand, putting it out.

you huffed, crossing your arms as the pounding sensation in your head deepened. you had been suffering this cold for 4 days. and you had a feeling that it wasn't going to be gone anytime soon. you picked at lint balls on the nappy blanket you were wrapped in, one that reeked of stale beer and marijuana. 

“feeling any better today, angel?” he grabs a tissue from the box resting between you two, wiping the snot dripping down your nose. you roll your eyes, sniffling. he grabs the box of popsicles that are lying on the ground, altering his voice to a british accent. “here you are, doll. have an ice lolly.” 

a small grin spread on your lips as you accepted it, tearing open the cold packaging. you took out the frozen popsicle, a watermelon-flavoured one, and started kitten licking the tip. clyde watched you out of the corner of his eyes, sighing. he rubbed a hand over his face, speaking warily. “what are we gonna do to fight this cold of yours, y/n? i’ve given you pills, soup, and that expensive wine. but i guess nothing is good enough for your body, huh?” his tone changes to a slightly playful one a he gives your shoulder a pat.

you bit off an inch of the popsicle, the cold instantly hitting you in the brain and granting you some relief from the heat that’s been pooling there. clyde’s mind started to wander as he watched each inch of the cold treat go into your mouth until you slurped it all up, swallowing the whole thing effortlessly and leaving nothing but the pink-stained popsicle stick in it’s vestige. clyde thought to himself, not even a nasty cold can hold this chick back.

clyde replayed the image of you licking the tip, your puffy cheeks and tired, sickly eyes making you look all the more ethereal. he sighed, knowing that you were going through more pain and discomfort than he could understand at the moment. he wanted to take away your misery so he could see that shine in your eyes once again. he snapped himself out of his thought, seeing that you’re looking right at him. 

“you feeling better now, doll?” he plastered on a little smile, putting his arm around your shoulder. you shook your head, coughing. “my throat hurts.” he gives a humourless laugh. “yeah, i know it does.” you put your head in your hands, shutting your eyes for a moment to still the buzzing in your head. each of your gestures filled clyde with a sense of overprotectiveness and lust. a double-edged sword, really.

in his erratic web of thoughts, he stood up, walking over to his drug cabinet. he took out every bottle and every case, seeing what he could make you take. his eyes rested on a bottle of pink cough syrup. he laughed quietly, thinking that it was the same colour as the popsicle you just ate. he picked up the bottle and read its contents, seeing that it was perfect for everything you were ailing. but he knew you wouldn’t take the mixture the normal way, he had learned that the hard way. 

in the knick of time, he finally came up with idea. one that he hadn’t tried yet, but he was certain that it would work for you. he rushed out of the room, taking the mixture with him. you watched as he left the room, sighing. as you were finally getting used to the silence, you heard him call out to you from the bathroom. “y/n! get over here!” you groaned, you world being thrown off balance as you stood up. 

you slowly shuffled your way to the bathroom, using the walls for balance before you got to the door frame, leaning against it. you saw him standing by the sink with his back turned to you. you crossed your arms impatiently. “you called me. what’s going on?” he turned to face you, and nothing had prepared you for what you were about to see. 

he stood there in front of you with his erect cock submerged in the bottle of cough medicine. you couldn’t keep your jaw from dropping as he pulled it out, his length now covered in the neon-pink liquid. you looked him in the eye. “what the hell is this about?!” a few drops dripped onto the ground as he spoke. “it’s my last resort, y/n. we’ve tried everything, but i think this’ll do you good.” your body hadn’t overcome the shock, so he gently patted your cheek with his clean hand. “c’mon, it’ll be just like that popsicle you ate.”

your mind tried to come up with a logical reason to decline, but you couldn’t think of anything. so this was what your life had come to. great. you sighed deeply, getting on your knees in front of him, looking up at him with your tired eyes. he stroked your cheek gently. “i’m gonna go slow, ok? just make sure you go all the way in so it gets to your throat.” you would’ve laughed if you could even handle getting a breath out. whether clyde truly had good intentions or just sprouted an awkward boner and knew that you would take the chance regardless of the circumstances, you didnt know.

you went straight for it, licking the tip just as you did on the popsicle. your signature move, clyde thought as a groan slipped from his parted lips. you scrunched your face as the taste of medicine hit your tongue, but you took it down inch by inch until you were sucking his cock clean. each time the tip hit the back of your throat, you fought back a coughing fit. he brought his hands to the back of your head, guiding you with more force than intended.

pink bubbles of spit came from the corners of your mouth, dripping down your chin. clyde’s breath came out in breathless gasps as your throat tightened around him. he pulled your hair out of your face, watching as you slurped up all the liquid that streamed down his balls. you went all the way down, coming back up again and deepthroating it like it was the easiest thing in the world. one thing was for sure: the common cold had nothing on your undeniable skill.

clyde’s grip grew shaky as his dick began to pulsate as a thin but salty substance leaked from his tip. precum. though you couldn’t taste it as vividly as usual, you could easily recognize its slimy consistency. clyde groaned deeply, tossing his head back. “f-fuck… just like that, baby. y-you’re gonna feel so much better after this…” so his mind was still in the right place after all. you swirled your tongue around the tip, and his heart nearly popped out of his chest. it took every ounce of self-control he had left in him to not ruthlessly fuck your face until you turned blue, but it ran out quickly. he grabbed a handful of your hair, quickly bucking his hips into your mouth as tears rolled down your cheeks.

you gagged and choked on his length, feeling his balls tighten up as he orgasm nearly. he bit his lip so hard that he drew blood as he shoved your head all the way down, spilling loads of his cum down your bruised, swollen throat. you swallowed every last drop, the warm, salty substance ironically making you feel better than the medicine did. he pulled himself out of your mouth, pumping his cock and shooting hot ropes of cum onto your face. 

he panted breathlessly, leaning against the sink as you coughed into your elbow. “s-sorry… got a little carried away there, didn’t i?” you sat there with an unamused expression on your face as his cum dripped down your neck. he couldn’t help but laugh as he grabbed a towel, cleaning you off and giving you a soft kiss on your swollen lips. “guess my idea was kinda garbage, huh?” he shyly scratched the back of his neck. you laughed, your voice sounding much clearer than before. “actually, i feel better already.”

author's note: i was very much under the influence when i wrote this. hope yall liked it xoxo

[raainberry]

Moonflower - II

« In literature, the moonflower has been used as a symbol of love, mystery, and enchantment. »

Sana x gn!reader

Not fluff, not angst, but a secret third thing

synopsis - your job is still flowers. she's still not sure how she got into this mess. but maybe you could get her out of it.

- part.I - part.III -

wordcount - 1.8K

TW - like one (1) soft cuss word

A/N - i had to divide and rearrange what i’d written in the drafts for pt.2 bc it was so long so now its a three parter. you can expect it shortly🤭

Truth was, Sana had been looking for a way to break off this engagement.

A quick, effective and good reason.

She wasn’t necessarily proud of it, but cheating was at the top of her list. It had all gone too far anyway, leaving as the bad guy didn’t seem so bad to her anymore.

If anything it was the best way to go.

If she wanted to leave it all behind for good, this was the way to do it. No one would want a cheater back, right?

In the past couple of weeks, she’d thought of a few ways to do it. Kissing a stranger at a bar, sleeping with a cute encounter at the club, blaming either on the alcohol or even the other person… all classics that appealed to her, but not enough to make her act on the thoughts.

No, those were too easy. Too nice.

She needed more.

She’d lost too much in this wedding embush. She felt trapped in a relationship that should have ended weeks before that damn proposal. If only she hadn’t been such a coward…

She was done with that act, though. Something in her snapped as soon as she realised just how deep into this mess she was.

It was the day she had been monopolized to taste-test tens of different cake flavours. She couldn’t tell you if it was due to the amount of sugar she ingested, or because of having to witness her fiancé and mother-in-law act more couply than she ever did with him… but she had never felt so nauseous in her life.

That night, her bathroom mirror bore witness to her tears as she cried for a good hour.

She hadn’t even meant to. Seeing her own reflection so worn out and unfamiliar was enough to push her over the edge. The tears kept dragging themselves out through her labored breathing as she desperately tried to stay quiet.

The last thing she needed was for anyone, much less her so called fiancé, to see her so miserable. Even she didn’t want to see it, which didn’t help her case at all as part of the many reasons she was crying.

It was a weird, twisted vicious cycle. All of it. Something she could only escape through sleep.

The next day she woke up feeling revengeful. Like the self-pity had drained down the sink along with her tears. She was set on walking away from it all, she just had to figure out how.

Her escape needed a perfect plan. A grandiose one that would cause utter chaos and misery, matching that mix her life had turned into because of it all.

That morning, her bathroom mirror bore witness to her most vile promise to date.

She wanted to ruin it all.

She was going to ruin it all.

And she needed to enjoy the fall.

-

Simply sleeping with someone wasn’t the way to do it.

But she did need someone else’s help.

She saw potential in you. In other words, she noticed the way you looked at her. You were cute, seemed reliable—easily charmed, sure— but just as charming, which she looked at as a redeeming trait.

Should you accept it, she figured you’d make a great partner in crime.

“What are you doing this weekend?” She had asked before leaving your flower shop empty handed.

She wasn’t surprised when you actually did accept, and met her at a coffee shop she’d suggested in order to think up a plan.

You never thought you’d ever have to brainstorm ways to effectively ruin a wedding. It’s not a common expectation in one’s life, but that’s what made it exciting.

Weirdly exciting.

You knew this was wrong to some extent, but it was for the greater good. That’s what you kept repeating to yourself every now and then. It was reassuring.

“So the best thing we have is basically running away.”

You stared at the sheet of paper in front of you, all scribbled with options, some circled, some wiped out, some straight up barred… There barely was a blank space left, and the most visible part were two underlined words written in a corner.

“Run away.”

Sana felt her chest tightening as she read the words over and over.

Run away, her mind echoed.

They sounded too familiar. It was loud, overwhelming with each resonance, she was suffocating at the mere sight of the idea.

She didn’t like it. It sounded weak and cowardly, like everything she didn’t want to be anymore.

Surely, there was another way. There had to be.

“Sana?” You called out, noticing her trance.

Placing your fingers in between the subject and her eyes, you snapped them.

Her eyes felt dry, letting her know she hadn’t blinked in a while. That caused her eyelids to flutter as she turned to look at you.

“Are you alright?” You raised an eyebrow.

This was new. Granted you’d only met her a few days prior, but still. She’d showcased such a range of emotions already…

“Yeah. Just…” She looked back at the paper on top of the table. “Do you really have no other idea?”

You glanced back at the words too, hoping to see something that would enlighten you about her behavior. However you only saw the most obvious staring back at you.

This was the only way. The only sane one at least.

You looked back at her, and the silent pleas of her gaze caught you off guard. The sight made you want to lie again. Maybe her eyes would return to the vibrant brown they sported when she asked to meet you here.

“I don’t… have anything else in mind.” The truth came out your lips, hesitant but victorious.

False hope was probably the last thing she needed at the moment. It was the right thing to say. So why did her reaction feel so wrong to see?

You watched, uneasy as she let out a defeated sigh. You swore you’d seen her pout before she stood up and left the booth you’d been sitting in for the last couple of hours.

Startled, you jumped to your feet and left an amount of cash on the table that hopefully surpassed the actual bill before hurrying after her.

“Wait! Where are you going?” You called out as you pushed the exit door open.

She was way ahead of you already. Enough to make you think she was running away from you

Ironic.

You were convinced she was, and you only put that thought on hold because she actually turned back to you.

The world around you seemed to have stopped. Or maybe you just were in a slow part of town. The point was, you could only see her.

Yet again, you found yourself unable to do anything else other than respond to the way she pulled you in. Your feet took a few hesitant steps towards her, and you only followed. When they came to a halt, you could see her better.

The first thing you noticed were her strained features. Her furrowed eyebrows were a little blurry, but they looked awfully familiar. You’d seen that same expression up close just days ago, at the flower shop.

The sight had you racking your brain again, trying to remember the way you’d managed to see her smile. Had it been as hard as you found it now? You nearly gave yourself a headache, but the sound of her voice spared you.

“Thank you for trying, Y/N. But I think I’m just gonna go home.”

You felt your heart drop in your chest. You couldn’t help but scoff at what you’d heard, staring at her in as if she’d said the most sense-deprived words ever—which in a way she kind of had.

That was it? She was giving up already?

“Why?”

You didn’t mean to question her decision. All you did was as simple as the question itself. You only wondered, and externalised it.

She didn’t answer for a long while. Long enough to let you think she hadn’t heard you. And while you wondered whether or not the question had actually left your mind; she thought.

She thought about her answer, but nothing came up.

That in itself was an answer, no?

She took a deep breath, refueling her confidence enough to walk up to you. You could feel it surrounding her again, the bold and rebellious. It was shy, though. As if this time she did try to put on a façade.

Her steps slowed down as she reached you, leaving a couple feet in between the two of you. Now that she was even closer, you could tell she’s been holding herself back. You just didn’t know whether it was from crying or from actually running away.

“If I say I don’t know…” She started, and you looked at her expectantly. “I should go through with this, right?”

You blinked, your eyes not leaving hers as you lost yourself in them the longer you stared. You knew she wanted you to agree. She expected you to. And if you didn’t, she made sure you’d reconsider.

All with a single look.

That’s exactly how she got you here in the first place.

“Do you really need my input?” You asked, taking her aback. “You’re the one that put the idea on the table. It seems to me you’ve made your mind up.”

“Maybe I did.” She said, stepping close enough to grab the collar of your jacket. She feigned to fix it for you, barely throwing it a glance before meeting your eyes again.

They hadn’t left her, and a smile almost gave away her thoughts. Thankfully, you were too focused on trying to see those through the supposed windows of the soul.

What a load of crap. You couldn’t see a thing.

“Why would you write it down if you weren’t willing to actually consider it?” You asked, opting for the more straightforward way. No professional boundary could stop you now.

“I can consider it.” She said, tightening her grip on your collar. “I just don’t have the guts to do it alone.”

That didn’t sound too good. Or did it?

In all honesty, you felt a little excited at the idea of helping her. Almost as much as you felt nervous.

She was unpredictable, borderline manipulative. Your heart raced just hearing her speak, and knowing her words were directed at you… it was thrilling.

The good or bad kind of thrill; you couldn’t care less now that she stood this close to you. As dangerous as she could possibly be, you found yourself willing to risk it all to find out.

And if she wanted you to help her run away from her own wedding, then you would. A few questions asked, but you would.

So you let her climb into the passenger seat of your car, sighing as you held the door for her.

This might be your worst decision yet, but alas.

It was for the greater good.