#I will go to my grave swinging I swear

[wanderingsoul6261]

Believing a False Lie

Credit for gif goes to fabiolajyx

James Beaufort x Reader

Synopsis: James takes part in a nasty dare to try and get the get the nerdy and social outcast to date him. He never expected to fall in love though. When Reader hears the truth from some girls at Maxton, she wonders what is true and false, and ultimately begins to avoid James. Will the truth be told and will amends be made?

Warning: Might be some swear words. Bullying takes place. Nothing more than that. the scene with the invitation to Alistair's party is improvised. The pool scene is also improvised.

P.S I got carried away and this really long 😅 excuse any mistakes. I have a sinus headache currently stabbing my skull and I can't take anything yet because certain sinus/allergy meds can effect how well my thyroid meds work.

-----

Y/N was a quiet person. She didn't say much. She took her studies way more seriously than multiple others at Maxton Hall. Some would say that she also went above what she needed to, studying mythology and ancient civilizations. Dedicated her time to be well accustomed to not only national history, but international. If it was within her interest, it did not go unknown by her.

She didn't have many friends, but she did talk often with Ruby Bell and Lin. Y/N was a social outcast and many saw her as that. She knew it. Being quiet and on the sidelines and it was her game, in which she was playing it well. That was until a certain Beaufort stepped in.

He had been dared by Cyril, Alistair, and the others to ask her out on a date. They didn't really care how long that he dragged her along. They just wanted him to do it and then break her heart whenever he was ready.

A sick joke it was.

James was expecting that Y/N might have been smart enough not to go on a date with him, considering her nature and those that she hung out with. Ruby was pretty stubborn and didn't like many of the others that went to the school with them. So he had just about expected Y/N to be the same way.

But she wasn't. And so now the two of them had gone on a few dates, the news oh which spreading around Maxton Hall like a wildfire that was too far out of control to contain. And in the end, James was surprised. Dare he say, even shocked.

James had expected her to be just as everyone had assumed her to be. Nerdy. An outcast. But he only saw someone who was insanely smart and had more to say when you got to know her. She was herself. She didn't try to be someone she wasn't. He surprisingly enjoyed listening to her rambling of whatever topic was stuck on her mind on any given day. Y/N might not have been as beautiful as Elaine or any of the other girls within the school, but James thought that she was gorgeous, nonetheless. Her smile. Her laugh. He had become smitten with her, and every single minute he spent with her, the deeper he was digging his own grave. It was a grave he didn't want out of though.

And as the weeks drew on, his friends had consistently waited for him to dump her. In front of the entire school. But he refused to. James kept pushing and pushing it back until his friends started to tease him about actually liking her. Not that they were far from the truth.

It hurt him at first, that he never did defend her. He stayed silent, but his facial expression was neutral. Deep down he didn't like what they were saying about her. He just didn't know how to approach it. But he knew that he had fallen head over heels for her, and there was nothing he could do to stop his descent.

-----

Currently, the two sat outside the manor that Y/N called home with her parents. They rested sideways on a wooden cushioned swing, James' back against the arm of it and Y/N back against his chest. One of his arms was settled around her waist, while the other laced his fingers with her own. He watched as her other hand flew blindly throughout the air, the hand in his own sometimes joining in the fray before going back to his hand, their fingers interlocking once again.

Most people would have probably been disturbed by her insane knowledge of things that were not necessarily needed to be known. But as she sat against him, constantly having to take deep breaths as she forgot to breath during her explanation of the "The Odyssey", he could only look enamored. James watched her lips as she spoke, not really paying much attention to what was being said, a soft smile adorned his face.

"Are you listening?" James broke out of his stupor, his eyes moving from her lips to her own eyes.

"Hmm?" he asked.

"So, you weren't paying attention?" she asked.

"Oh, I was. About fifty percent of the time. I heard about Circe turning some of Odysseus' remaining men to pigs and then he technically got kidnapped, was it?" he asked, searching her face for approval. Y/N smiled, and his heart pounded. He smiled back at her. That smile was everything to him.

"Yea. She kept him for ten years. Then he was finally able to leave. Although, Poseidon still posed a threat because obviously Odysseus killed his son." And Y/N continued to ramble, and James went back to adoring her like she was the only woman on the planet. Elaine be damned. The arranged marriage wasn't anything. It wouldn't be anything. Not if he couldn't have the one currently in his arms.

James leaned his head down, pressing a kiss to the corner of her mouth, lingering for a few seconds, before pulling back. His gaze was met with a frozen Y/N, and a smug grin had adorned his face.

"While I know have your attention. I do apologize love, for interrupting your rambling, but Alistair is having a party in a few nights, if you'd like to attend with me."

"Oh, I don't know. My parents have that gala to host in a few nights and I don't know if they would want me around. I can talk to them though?" She suggested. Y/N eyes had widened slightly, growing nervous already at the thought of attending Alistair's party. She knew where she stood amongst the others at Maxton. James gave her a tiny nod, his thumb rubbing across her knuckles.

"Of course. Do what you have to. In the meantime, I should be going. Parents are expecting me home a bit early tonight."

Y/N nodded and stood up first, extending her hand to James as he followed. He looked down at their joined hands, before staring at her face, flashing her a smile as she looked up at him and flashed one back. Yea. He could get used to that.

On their way through the house, James politely bid her parents farewell, before the two walked out to the front where Percy waited for James. They came to a halt next to the vehicle, and as he turned to look at her, he bowed his head down to press his lips against hers. A soft lingering kiss in which she melted into.

"I will see you tomorrow. Let me know whenever you can if you can come to the party."

"Will do, pretty boy." Y/N flashed another smile. He pressed another kiss to her forehead, before turning around and climbing into the vehicle. James watched her in the window of the vehicle, all the way up until she was no longer visible. When he finally turned around in his seat, he caught Percy's gaze in the rearview mirror. James could only smile as he looked away. The two of them both knew he was head over heels for her.

"Not a word, Percy."

------

"James!" Y/N hurried her pace to catch up to James. He stopped briefly, turning around to look at her before he entered the main doors of Maxton, waiting for her.

"Good morning, Love." He grabbed her hand, pressing a kiss to her knuckles.

"Good morning, handsome. Oh, I talked to my parents about the party. They would like my help for an hour or two. But after that, I'm free to go. They were surprised that I asked. In fact, I think they were excited." James looked down at her with a smirk.

"You're a goody two shoes."

"Apparently they're hoping for a rebellious stage." Y/N shrugged, smiling back up at James.

"I wasn't sure if you'd get back to me in time about it." James said. His hand settled on the back of her back, guiding the two of them through groups of students.

"Parents have been busy. I wasn't able to talk to them until I left for school this morning. Sorry it's such a late notice."

"No need to be sorry, just glad you can make it." He answered. They appeared outside of her first class for the day. James stared at her with soft smile, receiving one back.

"Have a good day, gorgeous. I'll see you tonight at the party." He mumbled against her lips, before backing away, flashing her a smile. Y/N smiled back, before walking into the classroom.

----

The time for the party came and for Y/N to say that she was anxious, was an understatement. She would be over dramatic and claim that she was fatally anxious about it, even if that was not such a thing.

Heads turned to look at her as she ventured through the house. She cowered slightly, meeting some gazes and avoiding others. Most actually didn't seem to care, while others had glowered at her. Trying to find James through the crowd proved to be just as difficult as she expected. Y/N released a quiet sigh.

Across the room, where Elain was trying to get his attention, James got a glimpse of her as she walked into the room. He wasn't trying to be cliché, but as he stared at her as the array of colors filled and rotated around the room, the world paused for several seconds. She and everything that she was, was his. He couldn't let that go. No matter the dare he had taken apart in. He couldn't go through with it. Now now. Not ever.

His mouth parted slightly, and his cheeks heated up in a blush.

Y/N was a sight to behold and he knew he couldn't part with her, damned what his friends and the rest of Maxton would think.

He pushed past many in the crowd, slowly making his way to her. James kept his eyes attached to her face, drinking her in and drowning in her appearance. As he drew closer to her, his heart hammered faster against his rib cage.

She was his.

James came to a stop behind her at the same time she unexpectedly took a step back. Y/N collided with his chest and she immediately turned around, scared to see who it might have been.

"James" She let out a sigh of relief.

"Hello, love. Finally made it, I see." A teasing glint in his eye.

"Yea. Sorry. My parents held me back a few extra moments to finish something for their gala. But I'm here now."

"That you are." The two stared at each other for several moments, smiles on their faces, before James motioned to the dance floor, and grabbed her hand as he walked past her, dragging her along with him.

The two started dancing, their bodies almost moving at one. The pop song playing decided their moves for them. The two didn't have much finesse between the two of them, but their moves had complemented each other. They stayed pretty close together, never moving more than a foot away from each other at a time. They were smiling and never broke eye contact unless needed. The two of them were enamored in that moment, enjoying the moment as it came to them.

And then the pop song gave way to a slow song, and they stood in the middle of the dance floor, breathing heavily as they gazed upon each other. As the slow song continued, James edged closer, his arms wrapping her waist, pulling her closer as she wrapped her arms around his neck, playing with the hairs at the nape of his neck. The two of them swayed together for several seconds, before James used his hands to twirled her around, now holding her with her back against his chest. Y/N turned her head to look at him as he laced his fingers through hers. They swayed for several seconds, before the moment was cut short by Elain, who thought to "accidentally" dump her drink on Y/N.

Y/N let out a gasp as Elain said a fake apology, catching a glare from James.

Y/N watched as Elain walked away, a pep in her step, tossing a smug look over her shoulder before she was out of sight. Embarrassed, she frowned, turning her head to look at James.

"I'm think I'm done for the night. I should probably get home and change out." James nodded, a hand still settled on her waist.

"I left my coat somewhere. I can go grab it and me and Percy can take you home." Y/N nodded.

"I'll wait for you outside by the pool." And how that was the bad idea, for the moment she got outside and began waiting for James, Cyril caught sight of her. He advanced on her, wrapped his arms around her to help prevent a fight, and begun tugging her towards the pool.

"Cyril! No please!" She begged.

"Aawww. The nerd doesn't know how to swim, does she?" James came back outside just as Cyril got to the edge of the pool with her, catching sight of the moment.

"Cyril! No!" But before James could act further, Y/N was in the pool. She didn't resurface, and others around them just watched. It was Jame's turn to start to panic.

James ran towards the edge of the pool, before diving in. Upon submerging, he could see Y/N panicking. She reached out a hand for him to grasp onto as he swam towards her, and within seconds, they resurfaced. Besides being already wet, steady tears rolled down Y/N's face as she continued to panic. James hushed her.

"It's okay. Breathe. Just breath. I got you."

And as he trudged out of the water with her, he sent a scowling glare towards Cyril, walking away from the party and towards the car.

On the car ride home, his hand settled on her thigh, her fingers finding homage in his hand, before explaining the story of her brother, who was killed in a boating accident years before she started to attend Maxton.

------

Y/N had though things were good and normal, especially between her and James. They were happy. They made each other happy. So when she walked by what she presumed to be an empty classroom and heard voices, she stopped momentarily.

And she wished that she didn't, for the voices were going on about the dare James had taken part in, trying to date her and how he hadn't broken up with her yet.

Her world shattered. Y/N stood in the hallway for several minutes, tears rolling down her face as she thought back to the last few weeks and how happy she was. Not only that, but how happy she was James and how much she thought he had been happy.

Was it a lie? Was everything he felt for her a lie? Was there any truth to any of it.

Y/N refused to go to school the second half of the week. She couldn't confront James, as she wasn't sure how to go about it, but he knew something was wrong. That much was evident from the numerous phone calls and texts messages gone unanswered. Even then, she could tell he was panicking. But she let him bask in it.

Other than her parents, who supported whatever she wanted to do in that moment, Ruby and Lin were the only ones who knew. And they had made it quite clear to James where he stood, and that although he was already an asshole, pretending to love someone was a dick move.

And that's how he found out.

James' heart had dropped into his stomach, wondering how she might have found out. He had texted the guys lately about it. He hadn't even talked to them in person about it for quite some time, although he did get subtle comments made when he and Y/N were seen together. So he had deduced that the only way she could have heard about it, was by overhearing about it from someone else. But in the end, it didn't matter hoe she found out. All that mattered was that he fucked up, and there was no telling if he'd be able to fix it. The thought of that alone sent his heart twisting into knots.

James had continuously tried and tried to reach out to Y/N. She hadn't blocked him, as his texts and calls still went through. He had almost thought she answered one call, but then had changed her mind and ended it before anything could be said.

His world was shattering around him, and he had no one else but himself to blame. James became distracted. Had even turned a bit bitter toward his friends. It wasn't their fault, he should have came clean to her. It still would have caused issues, but then they had more of a chance of being fixed than now.

To say he was scared was an understatement.

James Mortimer Beaufort was completely and utterly, terrified.

James was trying everything in his power to fix things. He sent letters to her humble abode. Voice messages left in her inbox on her voice were amongst these, and he was surprised when never he reached the limit.

What he didn't know was that if there was anything Y/N listened to during that week, it was those. She listened to his apologies as she laid in bed, her breakfast forgotten beside her and tears becoming a river on her cheeks.

She had several questions, still unanswered. All of his attempts to get back with her, even if she never called anything off in the first place, made her wonder if he truly did care. But if he did, why was he a part of the dare in the first place. Why didn't he come clean? Most importantly. Why was she such an idiot?

And when she finally went back to school?

She avoided him like the bubonic plague.

He tried many attempts to get her to stop and listen to him. Most times he was left alone as she avoided him. She would pull her wrist out of his grasp and carry on, as if he wasn't even there. Sometimes though, he hoped that she would listen, as she would stop, turn to look at him, and wait several seconds as tears began to swell in her eyes. Then she'd walk away, only leaving James to wish he had spoken a bit quicker.

And every time he saw her back disappear around the corner, he felt as if he was slowly losing her.

And as the Young Beaufort line was beginning to become a reality, he had less and less time to fight for her. Even without that, he knew he was running out of time, and James couldn't let that happen.

-----

"Is he still trying to talk to you?" Ruby's voice sounded from the speaker of Y/N's phone. She sat on her bed, picking at her nails, a book lying forgotten next to her.

"Yea, he is."

"Didn't you end things?" Ruby asked, and as Y/N sat there and thought about it. She realized that she technically didn't. Did she want to? Did he do it already? It didn't seem likely as he was still talking to her, but maybe it was still part of the ruse.

"Not technically. No." It was silent for several seconds and Y/N wondered if the phone call ended.

"You're serious?"

"Yup."

"Y/N-"

"Don't." She started. Y/N had already gotten enough shit from other students since being back. The bullying had heightened tenfold.

She had an interaction with two girls within the event committee. Y/N didn't care to know their names because she didn't like them anyways. But they had both dumped their drinks on her clothes, prompting her to leave classes early today.

And what made it worse, as she walked away from the situation? She locked her teary eyes with James. He glowered at the girls who had consistently belittled and bullied Y/N throughout the week. James had opted to give Y/N space, but this time, he couldn't.

He had followed Y/N out of the room and quickly caught up to her. He tried to initiate contact, but she could only turn around and shove him away, crying and screaming at him to leave her alone.

"I don't know what to believe." Y/N finally spoke again to Ruby, who continued to listen on her side of the call. "He's doing everything to fix things, but I don't know if it's apart of a ruse to further the rewards of the dare." She explained, her voice cracking slightly.

"Does he sound genuine?"

Y/N thought to herself for several moments.

"That's the confusing part. He sounds completely geuine."

------

And finally, it was the night of the Victorian donor gala. Y/N had stuck close to Ruby and Lin. She had stayed quiet, slowly drinking her champagne as she conversed with a few students and professors.

She would watch the couples down below slow dancing to songs, and her heart ached because even after everything, she had wished her and James were down there.

"Stop thinking about it." Ruby came up beside her. "Be free tonight." Y/N listened as Ruby talked to her, distracting her. Until it wasn't Ruby distracting her, but a certain someone else. Y/N stared past Ruby down to the ground floor, where she could see James looking around. What he was looking for, she wasn't quite sure. That was, until James looked up, caught her gaze, and held it. His facial expression softened as he looked at her, and that was when Y/N knew who he was here for her.

Her.

Ruby saw that she was distracted and turned to see what she was looking at. She looked down at James. James eyes never left Y/N though. Ruby finally turned back to Y/N eith a heavy sigh.

"I think it's finally time you go talk to him." The comment broke Y/N out of her stupor, in which she didn't hesitate much as she slowly started her descent down the stairs.

It felt like forever before she finally ended up front of James.

"Why are you here?" She asked.

"I came to apologize."

"What about the Young Beaufort line?" James was surprised that she cared enough to ask about it.

"It doesn't matter in this moment."

"Then if not that, then what does?" She asked.

"You." James barely let Y/N finished asking the question before he responded. Y/N stared at him for several seconds, tears swelling up in her eyes.

"Why?" She finally asked.

"Truth?" He asked. Y/N nodded. All she wanted was the truth.

"I didn't expect to fall in love with you." James explained.

"And how am I expected to believe you?"

"You don't have to. Just, please, let me explain myself. And then afterward, if you want nothing to do with me, then I'll leave you alone. I promise." Y/N pondered what he said, before she finally nodded.

A slow song started to play, and the two looked at each other.

"May I?" He asked. "If this is the last time we are to do anything together, I'd like one last dance." Y/N's heart swelled, although she hated to admit with the circumstance. She took a few steps closer him, allowing it be his cue. He wrapped his arms around her waist, and she wrapped her around his neck. The two started to slow dance.

"I don't know where to begin."

"From the beginning." He nodded, in agreement.

"Okay. So, it was a dare." He confirmed. "Cyril, Alistair and the others dared me that I couldn't get you to go on a date with me. I was honestly surprised that you did."

"I don't see the bad in people. You're a good person, James, and that's what I saw. I saw your caring personality beneath everything else and I fell in love with it." James stared at her as she spoke.

"Right." He cleared his throat. "Well, I honestly didn't expect to fall in love with you."

"Genuinely?"

"Genuinely." He confirmed.

"Then why didn't you say something sooner? This could have been avoided." He nodded, agreeing.

"I know. I was just scared. I wasn't sure how you would react, so I went on, hoping you wouldn't find out because I didn't want to risk the potential of losing you."

"But you might lose me know." He heart fell. Was this it? James swallowed thickly before looking at the floor in between their feet as they continued to slowly dance. "Hey."

James looked back up at her and in his expression, she could see that he was terrified.

"I never did technically end the relationship." She gave him a small smile. "Sure, things will need to be worked on and trust reinstated, but I'm willing to work through-" James didn't let her finish what she was saying, enveloping her lips into a searing kiss, in which it only took her seconds to melt into it.

------

Tag list:

@honethatty12 @lifeonawhim @ashamedtobewhitemanswhore27 @maryvibess @avada-kedavra-bitch-187 @imasimptoowth @sillyfreakfanparty

[werepuppy-steve]

promise you forever

steddie ☆ 971 ☆ cw: none ☆ appalachian eddie ☆ ao3

“phone for ya, eds,” wayne chuckles as he comes out of the house to the front porch where everyone’s sitting. “think your boy’s had one too many.”

eddie frowns and stamps down the worry bubbling inside him. steve rarely ever drinks anymore. doesn’t smoke anymore, either. not since starcourt. eddie slides off the porch swing where he’d been sitting with his aunt pep and goes inside to the wall phone in the kitchen, the receiver laying on the counter.

“steve?” he says, lifting the phone to his ear.

“country boy, i love youuuuuuuu!”

steve’s words are slurred, which doesn’t make eddie any less panicked. what happened? was he okay? eddie leaves to visit his family for one week and he can’t seem to escape the horrors that hawkins, indiana seems to breed every day.

“stevie? baby, you okay?” eddie tries to keep his voice from shaking.

there’s a laugh on the other line and steve flat out yells into the phone, “eddie! hi!” yep. he’s definitely drunk. eddie strains to hear any background noise that would give any hints as to where steve is at, but it’s silent.

eddie’s knuckles grip the phone. “where are you, sweetheart? are you safe?”

steve makes a grumbling noise, like he’s talking to someone else and eddie doesn’t know if that makes him feel better or worse.

“i’m fiiiiiine, eds,” steve says after another second of grumbling. “teds. teddy. teddy bear.” he starts listing ever iteration of eddie’s name, and eddie doesn’t want him to stop. if he keeps going, then eddie knows he’s not in immediate danger.

“dingus! stop hogging the phone!”

wait.

“robbie, i’m trying to talk to me boyfriend,” steve whines and there’s sounds of a scuffle and “no—hey—robin, it’s still my turn—!”

“hi, eddie!” robin’s voice is suddenly in his ear and sounding just as drunk as steve. jesus christ, eddie’s never leaving them unsupervised again.

eddie sighs and runs a hand down his face. “robin, where the hell are you? and why are you drunk?” these two are gonna finish what the bats started and put him in an early grave, he swears it.

on her end, robin groans. “dingus!” she scolds steve. “you didn’t remind him?”

“remind me of what, bobbie?” eddie asks. now that he’s sure the two of them are somewhat coherent and probably not in danger, he feels so fucking tired all of a sudden.

“it’s my birthday, doofus!”

well now eddie feels awful. steve reminded him before he and wayne left, but in all the excitement of seeing the rest of his family again, it slipped eddie’s mind.

robin continues, “and you, theodore munson!”

if eddie thought he was off the hook, he’s dead wrong. he’s never hearing the end of this now. it’s not likely, but maybe luck will be on his side for once and she’ll forget this conversation ever happened.

“you owe me a birthday breakfast, lunch, and dinner when you get back. and you have to buy me a present.”

eddie rests his forehead on the wall as a laugh bubbles up out of his chest at the ridiculousness of the situation. “alright, birdie,” he promises. “as soon as i get back, i’ll start right on it and get you the most expensive present i can afford.”

“it better break your bank account, munson!” she threatens, but eddie knows she’s bluffing.

“alright, birthday girl, can you put steve back on?”

robin yells out for steve. “you better not be doing any hanky panky on my birthday, dingus,” she warns before steve comes on the line.

“hi, baby.” he’s definitely still drunk, but he’s quieter, not yelling into the phone like he was a few minutes ago.

warmth fills eddie’s chest and he leans his shoulder on the wall, angling himself away from the door to give himself a sense of privacy in case anyone comes inside. “hey sweetheart,” he says just as softly. “you two having fun?”

he can practically see steve’s nod. “mhm,” he confirms. “miss you, though. wish you were here.”

eddie’s gonna marry this boy someday, just you wait.

“i miss you, too, sugar,” eddie tells him. “wayne said he thinks you’ve had a little too much to drink.”

“no i haven’t!” steve’s voice raises for a second before dropping back down again. “just had one… three… four beers, i promise.”

eddie hums, not bothering to hide the amused grin on his face. “uh-huh. s'at why you sound drunker than a skunk, right now, sweet thing?”

steve huffs and eddie wants so badly to kiss the pout off his boyfriends lips. “m'not drunk,” he says without any real argument.

“alright, i believe you,” eddie concedes. he can’t help but to let a little worry back in. he bites his lip. “can you promise me something, stevie?”

steve’s answer is immediate and almost shatters eddie’s heart. “i’ll promise you forever, teddy.”

eddie takes a breather to calm himself down so he doesn’t jump in wayne’s truck and make the five hour drive back to hawkins. “promise me you’ll call nancy if either of you start to feel weird?”

steve hums in his ear, like a purring cat. “i promise, baby. cross my heart ‘n everything.”

eddie grins and wishes he was there in front of him so he could touch him. “thank you. i won’t keep you any longer, then. i’m sure birdie’s getting impatient.”

“she’s always impatient,” steve huffs. “it’s her best quality.”

there’s no argument there.

“i love you, stevie. call me tomorrow when you wake up?”

steve sighs softly. “i love you, eddie.” he makes exaggerated kissing noises over the phone until he hangs up.

eddie hangs the receiver up. he’s here in his grandmother’s kitchen, surrounded by his family, but his heart has never felt as full as it does in this moment.

🥐☕💕 buy me a coffee? taglist: @yournowheregirl @steves-strapcollection @thefreakandthehair @stobinesque @vecnuthy @tboygareth @starrystevie @inairbinad @flowercrowngods @starryeyedjanai @matchingbatbites @corrodedbisexual @theheadlessphilosopher @sidekick-hero @patchworkgargoyle @sentient-trash @wormdebut @legitcookie @corrodedcoughin @steddieas-shegoes @wynnyfryd

[webslingingslasher]

i was thinking about how boyfriend!frat peter would swing his way back to trouble and like thinking if she needs something or what she was doing all the time he was on patrol like

"has she seen the episode we didn't get to finish?"

"nah, she wouldn't... right?"

"i hope she forgot bout it"

"i think she ran out of toilet paper"

"gonna be so mad if she saw that episode without me"

kinda messy in a peter way but he likes to find himself thinking about her after being spiderman because sets him down to earth again <3

the second peter had his hand on your window, your laptop slammed shut. you were sitting a little too straight up, your hands in plain sight.

'were you watching porn?' you sputter, the idea making your chest feel warm. 'no! i was just looking at stuff.' peter's eyebrow quirks, 'porn stuff?'

'no!' your eyes flash around the room, it's a guilty look. 'oh, c'mon, it can't be that bad. what kind of stuff are you into?' peter swears he's joking, but when he playfully reaches for your computer you flatten yourself on top of it.

'holy shit, it really is porn.'

'it's not porn! it's... it's... for you. yeah, it's for you and it's a surprise!' your boyfriend blinks, 'you have to believe the lie to sell it, trouble.'

you couldn't be caught, peter would never forgive you.

'you got me at a bad time, you were supposed to call me on your way over.'

'did you miss me that bad? you had to pregame my arrival?' you huff, sitting up and fixing your hair, you don't realize how close your boyfriend got.

'i wasn't doing that!'

'you were about to.'

'no!'

peter's having way too much fun, 'then what were you doing?'

'i already told you, nothing!'

peter's quick, he grabs your laptop but not before you catch the other side. a gentle game of tug and war. 'i'm gonna look.' you tug, it's useless, peter could rip it from your grasp in a second.

'no! not allowed!'

'then tell me what you're hiding.'

'no!' you screech louder when he takes total ownership of the machine. guilt washes over you, you've been caught red handed. the only solution was looking at your knees.

your boyfriend gasps in horror at the screen, it sounds like how you knew he'd feel about it.

'i'm sorry, peter. you were never supposed to find out.'

'how could you do this to me? to us?'

you can't even make eye contact. 'i know, i'm sorry.'

it's like it chokes him to say, 'how long has this been going on?' you look up at him, if you plead he may accept your apology.

'not long, i promise! it was just today.... and maybe last week. but i swear i'll never do it again.'

'this hurts, trouble. this really hurts me.'

sure, maybe you did betray his trust a little. but he's the one that got you hooked in the first place, he can't push all the blame on you.

'but you've already seen it! and i really wanted to see the next episode and you weren't here and i figured it would be okay... but that was four episodes ago.'

'fine. but you need to keep me updated, because the only reason i'm rewatching it is so i can experience it with you.'

a subtle confession, something you weren't supposed to take to heart, but you did. the whole reason peter got you watching was so he could relive all his favorite parts, but with you.

you pout, peter pushes your computer back in your hands and points at your bottom lip. 'no. you dug your grave, you don't get to be sad that i'm sad.'

'but i'm really sorry.'

'sorry you got caught.'

'no! i'll never watch it without you, i promise.' except you were in the middle of a very juicy scene and you're itching to press play. peter can read you like a book.

'you wanna do it right now, don't you?'

'no.' ..... 'yes.' ..... 'but i won't.'

'god gives his hardest battles to his strongest soldiers.'

peter doesn't understand the restraint you're showing. 'you stink, go take a shower.'

'promise you won't keep watching?'

it's hard, but you can do it for him.

'promise.' 

[kissitbttr]

eddie giving hickies on mean cheerleader's ass and thighs... so help me god

o-okay, y-ywah youer right anon…

[not proofread sorry]

-

to him, it’s always hard to keep his thoughts together when she’s around. aside from her flirty and bratty personality that turn him on, one thing he loves the most is definitely her ass.

and fuck does it look so delicious right now. soft flesh peeking out of the metallica shirt she’s wearing as she lays on her stomach. white lace panties riding up while her fingers mindlessly flicking over a magazine she brought to his place. swinging her legs back and forth as if she’s waiting for someone to take a picture.

he’s holding back a groan seeing her shift into another, yet a comfortable position. the light jiggle of her bum is making his head spin and he can’t think for shit. and now thanks to that, her bum is fully out.

who does she think she is, teasing him like that?

“if you’re zoning out because you are thinking of diana the acrobat, i will kill you.”

the sound of her voice makes him snap out of his thoughts. blinking rapidly as he looks at his girl, sending him a playful glare. with a low chuckle, he moves from his study, letting his long legs carry him towards the bed.

“you’re so hostile, you know that?” he carefully plops himself down on her back, palms gently pressing on each side of her waist to support his weight. “it’s so sexy.”

she shivers when he whispers hotly against her ear. “don’t tell me you’re into that.”

“what, a hot piece of woman with a temper wanting to beat the shit out of me? count me in. especially if the woman is you” he gives a soft peck behind her ear. moving her hair to the other side, giving him a better access.

“you’re crazy” she bites her lip, feeling his mouth nipping against the skin of her neck. “and no funny business. i promised your uncle-“

“come on baby, we’ll be quick. just let me put it in real fast, yeah?” he pleads, slowly grinding his hard on against her ass making her let out a soft moan. “you want it too, don’t you? hm, my pretty girl?”

“eddie” she sighs. he really knows what he’s doing and damn him for being so good at it. “okay, fine just—just be quick with it! i don’t want to give him a bad impression.”

he chuckles, hand going over the waistband of his sweat pants and pulling it down just enough for him to pull his cock out. “sweetheart, you could never give anyone a bad impression.” he grips the base of his length, running it up and down against her soft cheek,

“you know, i always thought about marking your ass.” he says, pulling her panties to the side and tease her folds with his tip making her gasp at the sudden contact,

“would you like that, baby? me giving your sexy ass a few hickies?” he lightly slaps it, causing her to flinch and nod

she never thought she’d become putty in someone else’s hands, let alone a man. even her previous boyfriends never made her feel like this. though she loves being manhandled but never to the point where her brain goes fuzzy and knees weaken

yet here she is, melting under his touch, begging him to ruin her.

“uh-huh. i’d like that.” she arches her ass up. “hurry up and fuck me already”

he loves hearing her whine. especially with that cute tone she uses whenever she begs him for something. it’s a good thing she’s not giving him the ‘bambi eyes’ thingy or else he’d cum all over her ass already

“patience baby, damn” he breathes out, guiding his already hard cock towards her wet cunt, moaning when he carefully slides himself. “you’re so fucking tight how’s that possible?”

his hips begin to snap forward, drawing a shaky breath from y/n as she grips the sheets tightly that her knuckles turn white. the feeling of her sloppy wet cunt around his cock make his head spin, eyes rolling to the back as his jaw go slack.

“you feel so good, baby… so f-fucking good” he moans, dipping his head down to rest his forehead against her shoulder blade. “all for me, huh sweetheart?”

she swears on her mother’s grave no one has ever filled her pussy like this. no matter how many times eddie and her have fucked, she will never get used to his size

eddie tugs her hair when she refuses to answer, mouth earning a soft mewl from her. “answer me, come one” he growls, mouth dangerously close to her ear

“y-yes” she squeaks out, tears begins to form in each corner of her eyes due to rough movement. “all for you, eddie. no one else’s”

he smirks at that, pecking her cheek after before sitting back up. eddie loves this position, it allows him to admire her perfect ass when he fucks her. bonus point when it bounces everytime his hips make a contact with it.

eddie drags his ring cladded fingers down to her soft flesh while quickening up the pace. giving her ass a hard spank it leaves a mark. the action causing her to jolt and whimper. the sound just never fails to make his cock hard

it doesn’t bother her a ton that eddie is always rough with her when it comes to fucking. she loves it.

and since she’s the first ever girl eddie has fucked. she wants him to use her in any way he wanted. to be the fuck toy he never got to have.

he looks up to the mirror in front of them, seeing her eyes shut and her lips parting due to the pain and pleasure he’s giving her just turns him on even more. it drives him to go faster, settling both hands on her hips,

“you’re so big, f-fuck” small moans are escaping from her mouth, hands shaking. “can you cum in me, please?”

the soft pleading tone when she speaks almost makes him cum right there. he knows he has to hold it. “shit, you sure princess?”

she nods her head, staring at him through the mirror. “i’m on the pill anyway. I’m safe.”

“too bad” he leans forward, placing his palms next to her shoulders and shift his entire body weight on her. chest pressing against her back. he kisses her sloppily on the mouth when she tilts her head back, swallowing every gasps and whimpers that continues to drop from her lips,

“would’ve loved to give you a baby” he says bluntly through the kiss. he doesn’t know if he crossed the line with that one, but judging by how she roughly kisses him back, she liked hearing that.

“g-gonna cum” she moans, biting her bottom lip with her glossy eyes looking back at him. “you look so pretty fucking my pussy”

he does look undeniably sexy when he’s like that. mouth open and dampen hair with a chain hanging off his neck as he fucks her into oblivion. looks like a proper rockstar this way.

“shit, are you trying to make me lose my mind ?” he breathes out a laugh, feeling his thrusts beginning to get sloppy“cum on me baby. be a good girl and cum on me”

that does it for her, she cries out his name as her body shakes underneath him. releasing around her cock while he does the same. spilling inside her wet pussy. he groans when he does. keeping himself in that position where his cock is still buried deep to make sure not a single drop of his cum go to waste,

the couple trying to catch their breath. his head drops back down to her clothed back before pulling out. eddie gives her shoulder an open mouthed kiss, then slowly head down to her bare ass. licking and pecking the soft skin.

“what are you doing?” she asks between breaths, craning her neck back and watch her boyfriend playing with her ass. “no more, you’ve worn me out.”

he lets his teeth graze against it, other hand comes up to palm the flesh. squeezing it softly. “marking you, baby” his eyes look back at his girl, even in her sweaty state she still the sexiest woman he has ever seen,

“there.” he looks proud at his artwork, slapping it one more time. “now everybody knows you’re mine.”

“no one’s gonna look at my ass.” she laughs, shaking her head. “unless you want me to show it to them.”

“babe, you know what i mean.” he glares, not liking the thought of someone taking a peek at whats his. “you good?”

“always” she says, kissing his lips. seeing his lips curve into a smile after, her hand pushing back his sweaty locks. “so, want to make me pregnant, huh?”

eddie freezes when he hears that. the smirk on her face when she asks the question make his cheeks go red and his eyes roll,

“shut up” he mumbles, pulling her close to his body so they can lay down together

-

i got a little too carried away ….🧍🏻‍♀️

[capndesdesdestiny]

It’s 3am and I must write

neighbor!graves breaks in again nd activates freaky mode w fem!reader (smut! gasp!)

It was almost midnight when you finished your nightly shower, slipping your baggy shirt and spandex shorts on to enjoy some YouTube time before bed. You got comfy and lied on your stomach, swinging your legs back and forth in the air as you scrolled through your phone for a good watch. But the second you found a promising true crime documentary, your attention was stolen by the sounds of shuffling outside your door. A set of keys jingle, which confirms your suspicions. It was Phil.

Earlier in the night, you had chosen to hide your spare key by taping it behind a poster on the wall, convinced that that was the best spot you’d picked yet. You let out a sigh of defeat as you hear the door fling open, you really thought you’d stumped him this time. This would make the 15th time Phil had found the key. You almost considered giving him a reward.

“I’ll give it to you this time- that was a good one, darlin’.” He stands by your doorway, arms crossed over his chest as he observes you, watching your legs swing as you relax in your bed.

You couldn’t be more stoked, it was practically a win in your book. “Of course, you got lucky this time, I swear..” You sigh quietly, looking up to meet his gaze.

He walked over to sit on the edge of your bed, right by your legs. He runs a finger over your calf and laughs quietly. “Lucky? Were my last fifteen finds lucky, too? One day I’m gonna cheat and pick that damn lock, sweetheart.”

Your leg shivered at his touch, and now that he was back there you had to look back over your shoulder to face him. “You’re a real criminal, neighbor.”

He chuckled, now sliding both hands over your calves and up to your milky thighs, his gaze lowering. He gives your thighs a small squeeze, eliciting a small gasp from your lips. “Aw, for a pretty little thing like you, I’d gladly do the time.”

You wanted to protest a little longer, but his rough hands on your skin felt so, so good. You rest your head on your pillow, looking back at him. “For a creepy shit neighbor like you, I’d gladly call the police.”

“Oh, I’d be scared, honey, but I have a feelin’ you’re just a little past doin’ that.” His fingers slip up under your spandex shorts, his thumbs rubbing into the soft skin of your ass. You bite your lip, letting him set the pace, almost challenging him to go further. Your face starts to flush, your hands finding their way around your pillow, pulling it in to hug your chest.

He pulls his hands away for a moment, and you grumble a little. “Don’t start something you can’t finish..” you whine, looking back at him with a pout.

He smacks your ass and grabs a handful in each hand, “Now, now, who said I wasn’t finishin’ it. Cut me some slack and be patient, hon.” He hooks his thumbs into the waistband of the shorts and practically rips them off, tossing them off the bed. You yelp, suddenly feeling the air of the fan lightly sweeping over the exposed skin. Before you can respond, he shifts to his knees behind you, his rough thumb rubbing softly against your folds through your panties. You gasp into your pillow, the muscles in your thighs tightening at the feeling.

“What’s wrong, sweetheart, you wanted me to start..” He pulls your panties to the side, his thumb now slipping between your folds to rub deep little circles against you.

“I didn’t tell you to start I said-“ you’re quickly cut off by Philip’s free hand smacking your ass again. As you gasped again he was kneeling there smugly, watching you squirm as he teased you. His gaze roamed over the view of you from the back, and he felt his dick starting to ache from the sight. You closed your eyes and mumbled incoherently into the pillow, raising your hips to feel more of his touch.

“There you go, baby, let me take care of it.” He slipped his pointer and middle fingers between your folds as you lifted your hips for him, the fingers moving down through the slick to rub gently against your clit. He watches you with that scheming blue gaze. You whimper and whine into the pillow, occasionally turning back to look at his face. The teary, hungry look in your eyes was driving him crazy. He’d love to play with your wet slit some more, but he couldn’t wait a minute more, he was real selfish.

He straightened his back, one hand helping you lift your hips higher and the other shoving his sweats down to pull his cock out from his boxer briefs. He watched with eager eyes as you turned back to look at him with that needy, low gaze, feeling himself harden up further in his hand, as if he wasn’t already painfully stiff.

You were far done with playing coy, maintaining eye contact as you shake your hips teasingly, honey dribbling down your pussy and onto the sheets. His gaze darkens as he watches your back arch, palming himself a few moments before pressing his tip to sink between your folds, coating it in the fluids sticking to your soft skin.

“My sweet girl…” he murmurs softly, reaching a hand down to spread you open with his thumb as he teases your hole with the head of his length. You try to press back against him as you whine into your hand, but he moves his hand up and grips your hip, holding you still as he slowly works himself in.

“Patience, honey.” Inch by inch, he groans as he presses himself inside, working his cock in slowly as he stretches your walls. Once he bottoms out, you gasp into your hand, your eyes widening slightly and your face a flushed mess as you turn back to watch his rough hips press tightly against your ass. He doesn’t give you a second to breathe before he pulls back slightly just to slam his dick right back in, making sure you take him to the hilt. You nearly scream, arching your back further as the hand not holding your mouth grips on to your bed covers.

“Phil…” you mumble breathlessly.

He chuckles as he starts to set a quick pace, steadily working in and out, the sloppy wet sounds bringing that hotshot grin to his lips. You can feel him throbbing inside you as his lap slaps over and over against your ass and thighs. You’re starting to sweat, and he helps you both out of the rest of your clothes, the pause short before he continues relishing in the feeling of your soft folds enveloping his cock. The moment you cry out and finish, he pulls out and flips you onto your back, his hands finding yours and pinning them by your head, your fingers intertwining with his. Your body trembles as your come leaks down the both of your legs, barely processing what he says next.

“I wanna see that pretty face while I fuck you senseless, sweetheart.” His soft southern drawl has you wrapping your damp thighs around his waist as you gasp for air. He reaches down to slip himself back inside, ramming his hips up against your ass as he pins you down. You can’t muffle your voice anymore, panting and moaning as tears streak down your face, your lips parted slightly as you stare up into his steely blue eyes. He’s still wearing that shit-eating smile as he rocks his hips, his breathing heavy as he leans down occasionally to steal your lips with sweet kisses. He lets go of one of your hands to wipe the tears from your rosy cheeks as he pounds you down against the bed, the whole frame creaking while he makes a mess of you.

You come all over his cock again, but he doesn’t seem to care, relentlessly slamming his full length in, the contact coaxing loud squelching from your slit as your cum and his pre mix and stream down from your laps. His gaze falls to your breasts as they bounce softly with each of his thrusts, and he leans down to lick and suck on your nipples, fondling the warm skin with his free hand, the other hand still holding yours with a strong grip. Desperate whimpers escape your throat as you feel his lips all over your chest. He then lets a breast slip out from his mouth as he focuses back on stretching out your insides.

“So damn tight.. pretty little slut.” His eyelids lower slightly as he moves his face up to kiss you again, this time slipping his tongue into your mouth and exploring it roughly. You moan into his mouth, feeling him rock his hips a few more times before stilling, remaining lodged deep inside you, filling you to the brim with his cum as your legs shake at his sides. He rests against you as he rides the high of his climax, feeling the sticky mess you two made together spreading over the both of you guys’ thighs. You feel so warm and full inside, hugging Graves around the waist as he catches his breath, and though you’re too stubborn to let your smile show, you hope he can feel it. You both let out labored breaths as you lie in a tangle of limbs, the only other sound in your room being the soft hum of the fan above.

He shifts a little on top of you, his eyes meeting yours once again as he cups your cheeks in his hands, tired but content. “By the way, baby, I made a copy of your spare key ‘fore I dropped by tonight, you don’t have to worry ‘bout hidin’ it again.”

You simply sighed, exhausted and still shaky.

“..I’d ask my landlord if I could change the locks, but I know there’s no point.”

end.

Sorry if this was an inconsistent concept I’m not good at workin plot points into reader gettin that back broke

[teenidlegirl]

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀❛ 𝓜𝐄𝐄𝐓 𝓜𝐄 𝓗𝐀𝐋𝐅𝐖𝐀𝐘. ❜

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ❀ ˚◞ 𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐭𝐡𝐫𝐞𝐞 : 𝐚 𝐜𝐡𝐞𝐜𝐤𝐮𝐩 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐟𝐟𝐞𝐞

ઇ ˚ ݂ ֹ ꒰ miguel o’hara 𝓍 fem!civilian!reader ꒱ ! ۟ ׅ ♡

ׄ   ׅ ྀ 𝓢𝐔𝐌𝐌𝐀𝐑𝐘. peter and jess are suspicious of miguel’s slightly strange behavior. avoiding further questions, he goes on a night patrol but that plan changes when he stops by your apartment for a quick checkup.

ׄ   ׅ ྀ 𝓒𝐎𝐍𝐓𝐄𝐍𝐓. fluff, swearing, pet names, spanish terms, slightly suggestive (if ya squint), arguments, tension

❛⠀ previous chapter⠀⋅⠀masterlist⠀⋅⠀next chapter ⠀❜

he was acting different. well, to everyone he’s just miguel. but to his two closest colleagues, oh yeah there’s something up in that man’s big ass. peter and jess notice the slight change in his behavior. sure, his intimidating demeanor and the usual yelling at random spiderlings is still intact. but miguel is being secretive about something and that made the two spider individuals suspicious. besides monitoring the multiverse on the orange screens at his desk, miguel would have a small separate monitor off to the side and observe for long periods of time. what is he watching? or the better question is, who is he watching? they couldn’t get a glimpse of the screen but it’s definitely not multiverse-related. the two had to eventually ask him, or least attempt before he would tell them to buzz off. take a shot in the dark.

“heyyy miguel.” a familiar, annoying voice echos his office, making him wince at the sound.

“no.” he states sternly, those ruby eyes remained fixated on the orange screens.

“aw come on. you don’t even know what i was going to say.” peter swings up to his platform, standing beside the tall brooding man. mayday babbles in the baby carrier, tiny arms stretching out to miguel.

“don’t care. now, leave.” miguel doesn’t budge, hunched over his desk with fists at his sides. he knew exactly why peter visited and he did not care to elaborate. it’s a personal matter, others should respect that. but unfortunately, certain people like to be nosey sometimes. he groans internally.

peter raised his hands in the air. “hey, man. i’m just looking for my friend. it’s just—”

“i don’t need you looking out for me. just leave parker, before i do something i’ll regret.” miguel threaten, consistently opening and closing his fists as a method to maintain himself.

peter only responds with a chuckle as he watches his daughter climb on top of miguel’s shoulders before sitting down on top of his head. miguel, on the other hand, accepts his fate with a quiet sigh and allows mayday to use him as a playground. secretly, he doesn’t mind the baby at all. in fact, he adores it when she plays with him but of course he rather die than admit that. take it to the grave.

“maybe mayday can get you to talk.” peter suggests, placing his hands on his hips.

finally, miguel side-eyed the man dressed in the pink fuzzy robe with an annoyed look. before he could utter a word, another voice interrupts him.

“yeah, maybe she can.” jessica enters the room, landing on the platform, resting a hand on her swollen belly and the other on her hip.

“not you too.” the tall brooding man groans heavily, rubbing his temples with one hand. he swears, if mayday wasn’t sitting on top of his head right now, he would throw the desk at peter.

“come on, miguel. something’s going on with you, like you’re hiding something.” jess inquired.

goddamnit, now he’s really pissed off. the only source maintaining his anger, preventing him from lashing out is the adorable baby on top of his head. he really doesn’t want to discuss about this. people should just mind their own damn business.

“well, i’m not. if that’s all you need to say, then leave.” miguel argues, not looking at either of them.

“uh huh, miguel. you ain’t getting away with it this time.” jess takes a step forward, crossing her arms. “who’ve you been watching?”

his fists grew tighter at that moment, shoulders and back tense. “no one.” hint of venom laced in his tone.

luckily, and finally, mayday climbs off his head and clings onto his bulky shoulder before sipping off. thanks to his swiftly reflexes, he catches her with both hands and securely held in her in his grasp. the baby girl starts babbling, tiny arms reaching for her father. miguel carefully hands her back to peter before his hands clenched and fell down at his sides, avoiding both of their intimidating gazes as he looks back at the screens once again.

just as jessica parts her lips open to speak again, miguel beats her to it as he sends a light glare at both of his colleagues. “mind your own business.” he hissed back before opening a portal by his watch and entering it, leaving jessica and peter speechless.

“well, it could’ve gone worse.” that was peter’s attempt to lighten up the mood. he isn’t wrong though, all kudos to mayday.

jessica let out a sigh of defeat. “always stubborn.”

⠀⠀⠀⠀𓂃 ୨ ₊ 𓂃 ౨ৎ   𓂃 ₊ ୧   𓂃

after completing a random mission, totally not as an excuse to avoid peter and jessica, miguel quickly returns to HQ to file his report. after submitting the report, his thoughts couldn’t help but wander to you. yeah, ever since your last encounter, he’s been ‘checking’ on you making sure you’re doing fine. occasionally, he would pull up a monitor of the street where you live, your apartment visible in frame. his crimson eyes would follow your tiny figure as you walk on your way to and from work. when lyla accused him of being a stalker, miguel used the excuse of making sure you weren’t doing any stupid things that would lead to you into trouble. the last thing he wants or needs is saving your dumbass from your own stupidity again.

instead of watching the monitors, he decides partake in a patrol tonight. just as he opens a portal by his gizmo, lovely dovely lyla appears in front of him, making miguel let out a heavy groan.

“gonna spy on ms. sassy, again?” she winks at him with a teasing smile, arms crossed.

miguel shoots her a glare, the eyes of his mark frowning. “lyla, por dios. i’m not spying and it’s not even about her, i’m patrolling the area.”

she scoffs, rolling her eyes. “oh please! you’re just using that as an excuse to spy on her.”

he grunts in response. “i’m not, and remind me to fix your programming afterwards.”

the ai rolls her eyes again. “whatever, boss man. be in denial, you know i’m right.” she offers a smirk before vanishing in the air once again.

miguel clicks his tongue, shaking his head. this is not spying or whatever, this is a patrol around the city which is his duty as their spider-man. proceeding to his plan, he steps through the portal and ends up on the rooftop of a random building. as his crimson eyes scan the area for any suspicious activity or disturbance, they find your apartment building which happens to be a few blocks away. his eyes remain glued on the building for a hot minute, remembering the night he took you home. he still remembers the exact floor. as his eyes linger at the sight, miguel unconsciously swings towards your apartment building. realization kicks in the moment he lands on top the roof of the building directly across.

what the hell is he doing? why did he swing all the way here, to your apartment? this is supposed to be a night patrol, not a checkup. he can do that at HQ.

his mind is filled with complaining thoughts yet he doesn’t retreat and go back to his original plan of patrolling. instead, miguel remains in place and observes your apartment.

screw night patrol, supposedly.

those ruby eyes land on your balcony, no visible light from inside, as sign that you’re not home. he exhales slowly, brows furrowed. where are you? it’s only 9:30, not super late but you’re by yourself nevertheless. working late? out with friends or someone? on a date? oh lord, that thought alone made him icky.

wait — why is miguel feeling icky about you being on a possible date?

jeez there is something going on with him.

sleep deprived? possibly, maybe.

those thoughts pause the moment he sees a tiny yet familiar figure dressed in royal blue walking down the sidewalk. squinting his eyes for a better view, his assumption was right. it’s you; the one thing that has been infiltrating his mind for a week for unknown reasons. you carry a hershey bar in one hand and your phone in the other. completely forgetting the night patrol, miguel keeps a curious yet cautious eye on you as you continue your walk home.

is he seriously doing this? checking up on a random civilian? checking up on you? what hell is going on with himself? he’s never done this.

jeez — miguel is literally scaring himself by these strange, unusual acts. the question still infuriates his mind. why is he doing this?

maybe just a simple checkup, making sure you return home safely, he thought to himself.

his ruby eyes continue following your tiny figure until you reach your apartment building and enter. well, you made it home safe just like he wanted. he can now resume to his night patrol yet — miguel can’t find himself to do so. like he’s stuck in place, unable to move, glued to the ground. but it’s more so he doesn’t want to move. instead, he remains observant from above. the moment light illuminated from your apartment, his senses perk up. the sudden urge to swing to your balcony consumes him entirely. at first he seems hesitant. it seems odd, maybe creepy for him to stop by your place just to ‘checkup’ on you. miguel doesn’t be labeled as a weirdo.

god what’s going on?

why is the multiverse pulling him towards you? it hates him already, is this just torture at this point?

why the sudden interest in you? yes, you’re a clumsy person and need to be more careful. why is he so riled up about it? why does he care? yet despite all that, you just seem so alluring to him. a beautiful mystery. oh beautiful? damn miguel is in deep but isn’t wrong. you’re quite attractive so there’s no denial. whatever this is, he loathes it.

after having internal debates, miguel swings over and lands right above your balcony. he is really doing this? a frustrated sigh escapes his lips.

that one question repeats in his mind like a damn plague: why is he doing this?

⠀⠀⠀⠀𓂃 ୨ ₊ 𓂃 ౨ৎ   𓂃 ₊ ୧   𓂃

you were in the middle of making your bullet journal until you heard a light thud coming from the balcony. quickly looking up from the coffee table followed by a soft gasp, your eyes detect nothing other than the numerous futuristic buildings from the distance.

adrenaline flows through you. what the hell was that? is there something outside on your balcony? are you hearing things? how would anything reach up here? you live on the 5th floor. numerous negative possibilities ran through your mind like a marathon.

setting down your pastel yellow marker, you slowly rise up from the floor and tiptoed over to the balcony door. as the glass automatically slides open, you’re greeted with nothing. your cautious eyes scan the area, searching for anything unusual or strange. little did you know about the giant man clad in red and blue literally squatting above your balcony, watching you in amusement. the corner of his lips slightly twitch upward. how unaware you are of his presence, searching the source of disturbance. the way your head turns, searching for answers. the suspicion expression illustrated on your face. furrowed eyebrows and flat lips, taking slow quiet steps. miguel allows himself to indulge in this silly moment for a few more seconds before leaving.

after failing to find anything, you exhale slowly and head back inside. how strange, you thought. that unsettling sensation still lingers but you’re glad there wasn’t anything bad. however, you make sure to lock everything as extra precaution. as you thought you locked the balcony door, your golden doodle daisy managed to slip out. damn you clumsy for that. you walk away to the kitchen to grab a snack, fully unaware of your dog outside. as any dog does, daisy sniffs the floor while wagging her fluffy tail. that wagging sudden stops as she smells, or senses something unusual. she starts growling as she looks upwards, finding a figure hovering above.

fuck — he’s caught, by your damn dog.

“oh shit—“ he curses as carefully lands on the balcony. daisy barks aggressively at him, making miguel panic. “hey hey. stop!” he put out his hands, a dumb attempt to calm down the dog but she keeps barking. “ay chingado! ya cállate! stop barking!” he yelled in a whisper, getting more frustrated every second. god he never hated dogs so much at this very moment. he needs to get out before—

“what. the. fuck?” you blurt out, eyes wide like a deer in headlights, standing at the doorway.

goddamnit, he cursed internally. he got caught and now is getting aggressively barked by your annoying dog. just fucking great. “listen i—“

“what the fuck are you doing here?” you hissed, walking towards him before crouching down to grab daisy and carry her in your arms. you calm her down with gentle shushes and petting her head. once she did, you look back at spider-man with a glare, unlike the soft and loving look you gave daisy just a few seconds ago. “why the hell are you here?”

miguel struggles to find an excuse because he’s too fixated on your outfit. a white nightgown with white fuzzy slippers. a sudden burst of heat rose up to his cheeks and ears. with the moonlight shining, you glow underneath it. his ruby eyes trace your facial features down to your collarbone then to your—

what the fuck?

snap out of it, o’hara.

miguel snaps out of trance, dismissing those weird thoughts. “i was on night patrol until your dog started aggressively barking at me.” he points at daisy with his index finger.

you aggressively swat away his hand. “don’t point you filthy finger at my dog.” you threaten, holding daisy closer to your chest, feeling her fluffy fur against your skin. “she has every reason to bark at you since you’re an intruder.”

his eyes widen in utter disbelief, offended by your rude comment. quite comical how it looks on his mask. “filthy? my finger isn’t—“ he lets out a groan. “i’m not an intruder, i’m on patrol.”

“patrolling from above my balcony? more like stalking.” you argued, arching a brow.

miguel stares at you in utter disbelief. “stalking? i’m not stalking you! i just happened to land on your apartment building while on patrol.”

what a damn lie.

well… sorta.

you scoff, rolling your eyes. “bullshit. you’ve been stalking me. creepy ass hero.” you avert from his gaze, looking back at daisy while petting her gently.

the tall hero remains speechless at your shocking words. a creepy hero? well that just slaps him in face. miguel isn’t trying to be a creepy, just keeping a cautious eye on you from potential danger because it’s part of his duty as spider-man.

“i’m not so get your head outta the gutter, mamona.” miguel argued, frowning at you.

you look back at with a surprise expression before turning into a smug one. “just admit you’re obsessed with me. i’m quite flattered the infamous spider-man has a thing for me.” a teasing smirk graces your lips.

his eyes widen drastically in shock. “i’m not—“ he heavily sighs out of disbelief, pinching the bridge of his nose with one hand. “chingado contigo.” miguel muttered to himself, not meant for you to hear but you did, much to his dismay.

your eyes perk up, brows raised in astonishment. “órale, spidey. if you wanted to, you could’ve just asked.” that teasing smirk grew more smug with wiggling brows, a hint of seductiveness in your tone.

he snaps back at you, visibly dumbfounded by your wild response. “what?! no! stop it.” miguel threatens as he points a finger at you but obviously fails as he watches you giggle, making him groan.

god — why do you have to be so unhinged? so ridiculous with sneaky ass remarks.

he hates it a lot.

or does he?

“i’m just kidding. i would never be with a guy who’s a complete stalker.” a giggle slips through your lips as you turn around and walk back inside, concealing that smirk on your face. you can feel his glaring eyes on you, making your smirk grow wider.

miguel just stands there, all flustered up and blood boiled in embarrassment like a shy schoolboy. god he needs to leave, he really needs to leave but some magnetic force keeps him there with you.

since you didn’t hear footsteps following you, you turn around to find him still standing in the same spot. “are you coming or what?”

he looks back at you confusingly. “what?”

you roll your eyes. “oh come on, i won’t bite.” you gesture with your free hand for him to follow.

miguel just stares at you for a moment, feeling hesitant. you’re inviting him to your place. what the hell is happening? first, he saves you twice, get into several arguments like it’s normal and now you’re inviting him into your apartment.

a sad sigh escapes your lips when he doesn’t respond or budge. “fine, stand out here like a dumbass for all i care.” and with that, you leave him outside on your balcony as you head inside.

standing there speechless, miguel decides to listen for once, against his mind screaming at him to leave. slowly entering your home, he takes it all in. if there’s one word to describe it, minimalistic. however, there is a sense of coziness and comfort in your home. the interior just literally screams you, but in a positive way. for once in his life, perhaps in a very long time, miguel feels tranquil. an uncommon feeling for him.

“do you want anything? water, cafecito, tea?” your voice makes him snap out of trance. you enter the kitchen, approach the counter where the coffee maker is and pour coffee into a transparent mug.

“i uh… cafecito would be fine… if you don’t mind.” he answered awkwardly, his eyes following you.

you hummed happily as you grabbed another mug from the cabinet. “anything specific or…?” you ask while pouring the warm liquid into the mug.

he shakes his head. “no. it’s fine how it is, gracias…”

after making his coffee, you turn around and slide it across the kitchen island for him to take. as you look up at him while sipping your coffee, you find him still standing in the middle of your living room.

you raise a brow at him, visibly confused by his odd behavior. “stop acting like a weirdo and grab your damn coffee.” you gesture at the mug.

miguel scoffs heavily in response, walking towards the counter and grabbing the transparent mug. part of his mask disintegrates, revealing those plump lips up to his nose. he brings the mug towards his mouth and takes a sip. a low hum of approval escapes him, content with the delicious taste.

you observe him curiously, eyes landing on his lips. probably the closest you’ll ever to see his face. ever since your last encounter, you’ve always wondered who’s underneath that mask. desperately want to know the face that belongs to that attractive voice.

yeah, his voice is attractive as fuck.

“what?” his voice makes you snap out of thoughts, catching you staring at him.

“will i ever get the chance to see your face?” you blurt out, confessing wholeheartedly. you lean against the counter, holding your mug in one hand while your chin rests in the palm of the other.

miguel nearly spits out his coffee, staring down at you with wide eyes. “no.”

“aw come on, spidey. we’ve hung out together three times already. we’re practically friends at this point. i think i’ve earn the right.” you pout before flashing him a tiny smirk, an attempt to convince him.

his expression falls flat. “we’re not friends and you have not earned the right. don’t get any ideas.”

you snort before taking a sip of your coffee. “jeez. you can never take a chill pill, can you, spidey?” you can tell he rolled his eyes, making you giggle.

“you’re annoying.”

“you’re stubborn.”

he frowns at you. “i’m not.”

“you’re proving my point.” you smirk.

miguel resist the urge to roll his eyes for the millionth time. instead, he takes a deep breath to maintain himself form lashing out. without answering back, he sips on his coffee. at least the coffee was the only good thing coming from this situation.

“so how many more spider-people are out there?” you change topics, taking another sip.

“a lot.” is all he answered, so flatly.

you sigh sadly, slightly shaking your head. you choose to move on. “i take it you’re the leader.”

he nods while drinking his coffee.

“figured. the bossy attitude and stubbornness makes sense.” you take another sip, hiding your smirk.

he frowns at that, eyes narrower. “what’s that supposed to mean?” miguel seems offended.

you snort. “god you’re the most stubborn man i’ve ever met. i feel bad for the other spider-people, having to deal with your stubborn and bossy ass.”

miguel heavily glares at you, trying his hardest to not crush the mug in his hand. dear lord you’re really annoying, rudely annoying specifically. “and you’re the most annoying woman i’ve ever met.”

you scoff. “you ain’t the first one to say that.” you mumble while drinking coffee, averting his gaze.

he stares at you, analyzing your expression and change of tone. for a split second, he actually feels a bit of guilt for saying such a thing. yeah, you can be little annoying but it’s mostly sass.

just as his lips part open to speak, a beep comes from his gizmo. both of you glance at the watch in unison. you watch the eyes of his mask narrow at whatever the message says, making you wonder what it is but you don’t question it.

chugging down the last bits of coffee, miguel sets down the mug on the counter and walks away heading for the balcony. the mouth portion of his mask is covered, now fully masked.

“ahem.” you fake coughed, finishing your coffee before setting it aside and following him. “you’re gonna leave without saying goodbye?” you crossed your arms, standing in your iconic sassy posture.

he turns back to you, shooting a glare before letting out a sigh. “goodnight.” as the door slides open, miguel walks towards the edge of the balcony.

you followed but stop by the doorway, leaning against it. “later, stalker.”

he groans internally at the stupid nickname. god he hates you. well, hates the nickname. without looking back, miguel jumps off and swings away.

your eyes follow the shades of red and blue as it moves across the city. once he was no longer in your sight, you walk back inside.

did you just have coffee with spider-man?

𝐓𝐀𝐆𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓. ♡ @loser-alert @keepitreal001 @iamperson12280 @nostalgicdaira @flordelalunas @oharasfilipinawife @cho-coquette @lavenderslemonade @palesatan @awkward-d3rs3-dr3amer @lilscast @beanieboy23 @dorck26 @kakabskbskdnd @4crew @deputy-videogamer

© teenidlegirl. don’t steal, plagiarize, or translate my work. ♡

[stormyelliotwritez]

walk with me…

ftm reader who has been in love with logan for years but he thinks logan is straight and also logan like wont stop being in love with jean and is absolutely OBLIVIOUS that r likes him.. (literally all the other x men know) and honestly this can be like super angsty or just silly idc whatever the vibe u best think works

im gonna somehow go with mostly angst coz thats my fav so here goes

tw for gender dysphoria related to wanting to fit logan’s so called type

BUT HE’S STRAIGHT?

Logan was staring at Jean again. This was like the fifth time just this staff meeting. You weren’t sure how much longer you could take this. Maybe Charles would let you go lay down if you faked a fever but maybe he’d do the whole psychic thing and realize you were fine.

You sat through the rest of the meeting and then left quickly, feeling like a loser. It’s been years and he still hasn’t noticed you. He’s always staring at Jean who’s literally been in love with Scott since they met. Why won’t he stare at you? How the fuck is he straight? But alas, he is.

You walked to your room, tugging at your shirt and wishing it would fit better. Maybe he’d have noticed you if you weren’t a boy, if you’d stayed what you’d been born as. Maybe if you were still her, he’d think you were cute. Maybe he’d look at you how he looked at Jean.

You slammed your door shut and clambered onto your bed, curling up into a ball. You stayed there, just thinking, until eventually you fell asleep.

In the morning, you got up and after showering and getting dressed, you threw on the jacket you’d stolen from Logan a few months ago, the one with the school’s logo. Maybe he wouldn’t notice. It’s not like he ever noticed you.

You went about your day, bumping into Scott who made a faux growl sound like Logan’s to tease you and then bumping into Hank who sniffed your jacket and then applauded you on managing to steal from Logan. Later in the day, you ran head first into Storm, when you were trying to avoid Logan, and she glanced at him and then meowed at you teasingly. You’d swear on someone’s grave that the only person who didn’t know about your years old crush was the man himself, Logan.

You managed to avoid Logan all day until… dinner. He was sitting opposite the spot you always sat in. He was sitting there. Why was he sitting there was a question you couldn’t answer. You tugged at your jumper while holding your plate with one hand and you walked over to him.

“Logan,” you said with a nod.

“Bub,” he said back before looking you over.

He didn’t say anything about the jacket. He just sat there and ate his dinner and then stood up. He walked around to your side and leaned down to whisper in your ear. “Nice jacket, bub.”

He then walked off, just like that.

What the fuck? What the actual fuck? He didn’t know though. He would know about your ridiculous crush if he was listening to your heartbeat right now. Oh my god, so he knew you’d stolen it but he couldn’t put the damn pieces together?

You finished your dinner and walked off. You were halfway to your room when someone grabbed your hand and pulled you into an empty classroom. The door was slammed and you were disoriented in the dark.

“You like me, bub?”

That was Logan’s voice. Wait, he knew? How? But…

“Come on, I ain’t got all day,” he said abruptly.

You nodded. You were quite sure he could see in the dark and the scoff he made seemed to say so. How could you have been so stupid? He was probably going to hate you now. He was straight. He’d always been straight and in love with Jean. He was oblivious. He’d always been oblivious. He could never like you. You weren’t a girl, no matter how hard you wanted to still be one so he’d like you. Your heart was racing and soon enough, you were hyperventilating.

His hands were on your shoulders and you were being pulled into a hug, a hug that smelt of wood and fuel. He was hugging you?

“It’s okay, I got you, bub,” he placed a light kiss on your forehead, “I swing both ways, you know.”

You’d always hated that he was still taller than you, one of the downsides of not getting on T until your 20’s and- wait, what? He swings both ways?

“You-you do?” You said once your breathing had slowed.

He nodded. You couldn’t see it but you could feel it. He could like you… as you, as a man? You didn’t have to be someone else? You could just be you.

“Yep, now let’s go. I think there’s two beers calling our names in the teacher’s lounge,” he said before opening the door and pulling you out of the classroom. “Jean mentioned your little crush and now I gotta hear all about how you’ve been pining for me for years.”

Curse you, Jean, but thanks, was all you could think as you just nodded and walked with him to the teachers lounge.

[simp-ly-writes]

Lasting Pictures: When We Are Together (pt.8)

Pairing: Poly!Task Force 141 x Reader

Summary: John and 141 discover more about your whereabouts alongside the secrets you have been hiding from them. The lies, the cold shoulders and sleepless nights come swinging back in your face with vengeance yet never have such sweet words been shared in spite of it all. Your future awaits on the horizon, now it is up to you to decide who you are sharing in it.

Warnings: 6180 words, slowburn, swearing, mentions of blood, injury and torture.

A/N: I can't believe its already been 85 pages of this story, thank you all for the support! I hope you enjoy the sweet ending of this chapter!

Masterlist | Taglist | edited.

Lasting Pictures Series Masterlist

Back in London at Base

“WHAT THE FUCK DO YOU MEAN- KATE” Price shouts in the office space. An assistant shakes from behind the door with the force these words are projected with, doing their best to not eavesdrop from the hallway was a hard task as the rest of the task force… calmly waited in the hall while glaring daggers their way- not being allowed entry. 

Back inside the room, Laswell shakes her head as it drops into her hands, her elbows resting against the table as her usual bun falls out- her hair acting as a shield. “I don’t give a shit about what any General has to say- that is my squad member, my responsibility so do tell me why the FUCK they are in a differnet country operating outside of our military?” Price shouts out once more before taking a step back from leaning over the station chiefs desk, now walking in circles just in front of it and tossing a hand through his hair. 

Taking a deep breath, Laswell tries her best to formulate an answer without giving away too many details yet the Captain notices this change in her personality. “No- you do not get to hide answers away from me Kate. I have gone off the books, committed atrocities in the name of good- I deserve to know why at least. Or what about this- Kate,” The Captain stills, looking up at the ceiling for another ounce of patience as both of theirs were wearing thin. The boys in the hallway could be heard from through the door, piling question after question on the poor assistant.

Price turns his head towards Kate, casting his chin down- his eyes pointed, “Why was I NOT acknowledged when Dice was Injured on that last mission, why was I not noted on that interrogation- Christ, Laswell-”

“No John. You do not get to make these demands of me in MY office, on my base- I am not a secretary, I am not a doctor, and I am not going to tell you the answers when you integrate me, Captain. You could have had those last two answers if you got your jealousy issues over with and asked the damn lieutenant,” Laswell retorts while closing her laptop, she was taking herself off the clock early for today. Grabbing her coat, John blocks the door with his arms crossed as Laswell reflects the same- eyebrows furrowed. 

“Maybe me and the boys would not be having such jealousy issues if the guys were not here on base to begin with- they had no reason to be originally- and they definitely have no reason to be off with MY squad member,” John restates his points with a more leveled tone, his mouth twitches up into a smirk as he watches Laswell internally battle herself- knowing that the guys just outside would make worse demands than he. 

Laswell sighs out, throwing her coat on a nearby chain before motioning John back over to her desk where she turns her laptop around and shows the thread of emails shared between herself, Shepard and Graves. The shadow company CEO demanded for Dice to be stationed with their team, a token that their contract would be upholded. As the missions dragged on, Graves became more restless-  John shakes his head at this new information, refusing to read anymore.  

“This is why I didn’t show you John. I know you are not a fan of these side-deals but-”

“BUT what Kate, but what. With their background, it is absolutely disgusting that you would make them do this-”

“Well they did agree to it?” Laswell states but comes out more like a question. 

“Did they know? Well maybe with someone of their past, they couldn’t imagine saying no- working themselves to the bone. Fuck, we barley saw them and when we did,” John takes a moment closing his eyes as his voice comes out softer, “I looked past my jealously Kate, I saw that they were healing those memories with em’ but I will not look past them being used. I know where they're coming from, when the higher-ups keep shouting in your ear, demanding more of you until you become a husk. I couldn’t look at them Kate, I-I couldn’t look and see that version of myself reflected again. The rest of us we-” Price stops mid sentence as the door is thrusted open and shut, the assistant now fleeing the scene. 

“We were feeling a load of shit- Laswell. You try and watch someone you care for gradually slip away, burying themselves in work because they ‘apparently’ didn't do enough- and when you do try and see them again, they look past you and to someone else- looking happier than ever,” Johnny states while leaning against a wall, looking out the window and onto the training grounds all those months ago. “Sure it is jealousy, yes we did give the cold shoulder but there is no worse feeling than being replaced and everyone was feeling that in one way or another,” Soap finishes as Ghost only nods in reply. 

Gaz speaks up next, “If we are sharing then, I know Graves is trying to recruit them, Kate. We all knew it- saw it, and it became all the more disheartening when those shadows appeared in our own personal space and then next week- BAM! They are off without a word- I fucking wonder we were having sloppy work recently, there is only so much we can get done while functioning in the dark.” By the end Kyle is out of breath, taking a bottled water from the minifridge and sitting in one of the armchairs across from Lasswell's desk. 

Ghost shakes his head before commenting, “So they worked their ass off, fearing they would be replaced in some way or better yet when another devil comes whispering in your ear, complimenting your good work, showing you friends and pleasures of the craft yet we were stuck doing time-consuming work for no use? What fucking plan is that- no actually, a useless plan that is.”

‘Well then boys, it is a good thing I am sending you off to join them tomorrow if you are done? I apologise, that's the best I can give you now with what I have been working with. I can’t do much if I got fired from Shepard- John. And the best strings I could play was ensuring that they would at least be working with people they knew in the area- I’m sorry for what this has caused. I,"Kate takes a moment, a shaky breath exiting herself, “-I see what they were starting to mean to you all and I am sorry that I was the one who had to take that away from you. But it is up to Dice in the end if they end up signing that contract- we all can only hope they do not.” 

“Like fuck they won’t,” Johnny states, a smile gracing its way across his face as he pulls Gaz up and hugs the man, throwing in a hand for Ghost to join them who only rolls his eyes in reply. John shakes his head, the energy in the room having a noticeable difference as he checks his watch. The next day was not far off in the early morning hours they were in now, deployment was soon and soon was when they would make it their personal mission to have you stay with their team. The past meeting the present, and the present overtaking the past as it should- in theory. 

--

↳ One Week Until Mission “Spill”

When the boys touch down on the tarmac, they initially do not see you leaned up against the back of Alex’s truck as you and Farah share drinks out of a water bottle. “Gorgeous!” Johnny calls out once spotting you as he shoves himself in front of a very confused Alez who pats him on the shoulder. “Hey man, it's been a long time since we last saw each other- how have things been?”

“Been better but we have work to do,” Soap replies while wrapping an arm around your shoulder as he practically drags you to sit beside him in the back of the truck. Farah waves you goodbye as she goes to talk to Price who sends you a solid nod in recognition of your presence. You look at the side of Soaps mohawk with confusion, Why are you back to being so touchy all the sudden? 

As if knowing your very thoughts he gives you a wink before squeezing your shoulder and strapping you into your seat with a grin. Horangi slides in on your otherside as Alex turns the engine on, Köing rushes to shotgun, mumbling about more legroom as you kick his seat and blame it on Horangi who curses out loudly before lightly punching you on the thigh. You wince, gripping your pant leg as you invite Soap in on the backseat chaos. 

“Oh my god! Is that blood!” he yells out with exaggerated gasps as Horangi tries to choke back laughter and Alex politely asks for everyone to, “shut the fuck up.” While readjusting the rear view mirror, double checking that you were not in fact hurt. 

--

Once back at the house, the squads are gearing themselves up as you double check your notebooks on all the information you have collected thus fall, helping Farah and Price to outline the ever-growing team you all had established here. 

“And drinks are on me afterwards!” Matthew announces as the crowd cheers, a few members of Farah's group had appeared half-way through the debrief that you had never met before. You giggled to yourself as quite a few eyed up Horangi and Köing, pulling on their sleeves to get their attention, you pointed like gossip girls to the people who were looking for company. 

 Köing turns a bright red, “Maus-I don’t know…” “Oh come on! Doesn't have to add to anything- you don’t even have to fuck, get your head out of the gutter Horangi- I know that look better than anyone,” you tease out but your eyes hold utmost seriousness. You kept thinking about your talks with them earlier in the week and the aftermath of these next few missions, everything was hanging in the air with this departure's success and yet you couldn’t help but want for everyone here in this room to have something for when they arrived back- in whatever state they would be in. 

Seeing your eyes fog over with the depth of your thoughts, Simon brushes his shoulder against your own, nodding along to Farash speech as you snap out of your trance, glancing up to him with a thankful smile as you point to various entrance points you discovered while scooping out the place through public architectural blueprints. 

With one last slam to the table and a battle cry being placed, Price requests to speak with you outside as you follow suit, Gaz in tow. He keeps his back to you while walking, ensuring that you all are a good ways away from the house before he starts to speak. “Before we go out on this mission, Dice. There are a few things I need to come clean about, and a few answers I would like from you in return.”

You process his words, eyes darting anywhere but his own as your palms sweat, You were not reading to make your decision whether to stay with the military or go after Spill- Please don’t ask about this, please don’t. You nod once as Gaz crosses his arms beside Price, “As your Captain I am disappointed you did not come to me for support when you needed it and I don’t just mean work, love. In that disappointment of mine, I directed it towards you rather than at myself, I misplaced my actions while addressing your old squad as did the rest of the boys. I cannot speak for their shite but what I will say is that, I’m sorry Dice. I was an arse,” Price says while casting his eyes down to his boots, he grips his vest, swinging on his feet and you cannot help but cast a smile at his actions. 

“It’s alright, Price. I-I get it, I was in a downright terrible position and I should have gone to the team but when the guys came around-I… I just got lost in the memories, you know? Those good feelings came back but with the more nights we spent talking to one another… the more it wore off and the more guilty I felt knowing that I left you all without a word…” you sigh out in relief that the dreaded question did not get asked yet Gaz takes that sigh as the start of tears as he races up, encasing you in a warm hug. You smile into his skin as he chuckles at the feeling. John decides to make this a group hug as you groan at the weight of gear being toppled on you before an anxious Alex is screaming from the backdoor like a worried mother, “We are on the road in six people, get your shit together- we have deadlines to meet tonight.”

--

Hopping out of the trucks once more, you find Price standing on a stump as he counts heads and ultimately addresses the crowd. Soon lines are being formed throughout the treeline and comms are declared silent, you could see your first objective as part of the abandoned factory. 

Distant echoes of metal grinding in on itself as trees swayed and groaned in the wind provided an eerie atmosphere to the rising tensions in your shoulders. Standing against the wall, with your NODs on, you nodded towards Gaz as he clipped the lock and you entered the room, to what would be a series of offices. Casting yourself against the further wall to your side and making your way to the centre to meet up with Soap he signals for you to unlock the next door. The first and second room were found empty. 

Yet as you move deepering into the facility, through the various offices that have used coffee mugs and papers scattered across their tops, the sound of running feet can be heard echoing down the hall on the outside platform, connecting the offices to the greater factory and mining pit beneath. Turning your head to see Ghost already holding up his hand, you all pause and hear as the steps get closer. 

Raising your gun to your face as Gaz does the same. You hold steady as the door handle jiggles, Johnny takes cover behind a tipped over desk, resting his gun against its side as he tries to squint through the blinds from a distance, unable to identify the possible target. A few shouts in another language can be heard as they fumble for their keys and drop a flashlight, it rolls across the metal platform as they swear out into the night air and another voice soon joins their worries. 

Ghost stares at the door, gun raised in wait as he eyes you all to hold position. The door soon flies open, you all still hidden in the darkness of the room- observing their actions as they shut the door behind themselves and lean against it- panting out. 

Ghost steps towards the window light, motioning them to lay flat against the ground with his gun as he orders with a strict tone, “Hands and Knees on the fucking ground. On the fucking ground now.”

Gaz dashes over to secure them both, moving them against the back wall where Soap and you wait. Equipping the flashlight on your gun you focus in on their faces and kneel to view their badges as Ghost stands behind you, reading to move in if they pull any fast actions on you. They were cousins to the working family who ran this frontal tree-logging factory where in actuality this is where they produced their newest explosive weaponry. 

Both scientists refuse to meet your gaze before you grab one of their chins, ensuring their eyes meet your own. They portray confidence, yet their shaking knees tell otherwise, “I need you to tell me who else works here.”

The scientist to the man you currently hold shakes their head violently, thrashing their hands in the restraints as Soap places a boot against their body, stopping their movements with a stubble bit of pressure. “Do not try to look at your friend. I will not ask you again, you tell me- or you meet our other friends in the woods- your choice,” you speak in a clear, even tone.

The man simply spits in your face as you drop your hold on their chin and instead force their body upright, their feet slipping against the floors in an effort to hold themselves up. “What a shame, your cousin here will get to go first- let your lack of information help their screams,” you pressure them further as their eyes go wide- believing in your hold to words. 

“They-they are 42 of us here, 10 in staff today- I do not know elsewise to their location. Please believe me- do not hurt her” the man shakes underneath your grip, their shirt slightly tearing as you press them into the wall- it creaks from the weight. 

“That's a start, where are they, where are the 10?”

“I-I will show you,” the scientist counter-offers as the lady nods her head in agreement, “yes, we will show.”

“No showing necessary, you will tell me now- I will be taking your badges.”

“Yes, of course! Of course,  t-they are meeting with accountant in west wing,” the man stumbles to answer. 

“Who is this accountant? Where are they from, who do they speak to?”

“I-I do not know, you will have to ask. They only come to see we do the work and leave afterwards. They are not from here, foreign looks. That all I know, please.”

“Good, thank you,” you offer the man a tight-lipped smile before dropping him to the floor. He groans out as you search his jacket for the mentioned ID and destroy the SIN card in his phone as Johnny examines the woman's handbag and empties it across a desk. 

Finding the other ID and her notebook, he stashes them in his vest before enabling comms for another team to keep watch of the two scientists in custody- they would be needed in court afterwards. 

--

After a few moments and adjusting your gear, you hold up your gun abruptly to the sounds of rushing boots. The knocks sounded at the door follow the prediscoled pattern as you sigh out in relief and open the door for the squad to enter, Simon presents the information gathered as they radio back to base while staring down at the two scientists who refuse to make eye-contact once more. 

The squad leader gives Simon a nod, signaling your exit as you all make your way towards the west wing. Greeting other squads that you find along the way as Gaz stays behind to help dress one of their wounds. 

The metal stairs that you deascened for moan in the wind and shift with the building as you enter down into the west wing. A set of double doors greets your faces as you each take a side, readying to enter the space with a sudden burst. All the lights are on inside the large meeting hall as various guns are pointed up at your face, shouting for your compliance. 

Setting your weapon down in your hands as Johnny and Simon do the same, it was squad 3-5 that stood in the room, already holding a tight control over those yet to be interrogated in one of the private meeting rooms or holding the exits. 

Laughing out as horror exits your system, you hear the all-familiar sounds of John's investigations as you enter the room as Johnny and Simon wait outside. Price does not face you, his knuckles bloodied yet the accountant's face looks a whole lot worse, or well at least what you assume to be the accountant in their… disturbed appearance. 

Letting out a low whistle, the Captain chuckles in response before leaning over. He presses his hands snuggly into their shoulders, forcing them to almost break the back of the wooden chair as he whispers into their ear, eyes flicking upwards to meet your own as he speaks, “Nice of you to join us Dice, maybe you have something to help move this investigation along. Any bargaining chips potentially?” 

The accountant stays silent, only glaring into your eyes as you blink twice back at them, “I know that you murdered thousands with the numbers you love to play with back at that office of yours, just outside the city right? Women, children, awaiting fathers, it's all the same to you- isn’t it? Your wife-” you chuckle to yourself, shaking your head as you saunter around the room, “we had a splendid time after the Charity Gala together. Her moans never sounded so sweet while being stripped of that silky red dress,” you humm afterwards as if thoughtfully remembering the scene. 

John keeps his eyes locked onto yours as the account begins to shift in their restraints more. He moves a gloved hand, forcing them to look back up at you as you walk closer to stand in front of their sat form, smiling down. 

“She told me of how you couldn't make her fulfilled in bed. How good my hands felt in her hair, trailing down her neck of diamonds and right to her stomach…” you tisk the accountant, brushing your hand against John's shoulder before continuing, “then she told me how you had to sell your own manliness to women who only were bought for your attention, sick bastard you are truly. So much so that she found herself in the sheets of not only me, your enemy who made her feel more than you did in 20 years- but the oligarch you work for as well. How wonderful is that- no?”

“You tell lies-”

“Why would I waste my words on a man like you if not only to tell the truth? You are pathetic really…” you trail off while Price smiles, he knows that you both are almost there to crack this man's facade. 

“You are pathetic, your little mind games serve as dull knives.”

“Then what will be said of you whatever would your boss think when he finds out you have been tilting the numbers yet again, but are stealing your fortune to pay off that mistress of yours- hm?” you retort with a large plaster across your face as John whistles out, giving their cheek a good pat before coming to stand by your side. 

“Decision is yours, I have a member of death's door waiting, like seeing the reaper himself if you want a pre-show to your fate or you could choose to put your dick back into your pants like a good ol’boy and wag your tail for your boss- we would love a chat,” Captain Price teases out, his voice filled with grovel from all the yelling he had done today.

A low nod of the head is all you need for evidence of his acceptance before John is signaling through the window for someone to handle the accountant. And by the time you both exit the room, the accountant in cuffs walking out with another squad member before you and all of his people who laugh at his appearance. You notice as Ghost refuses to make eye-contact with you, instead shifting his feet when you ask if he’s doing alright. When turning around to face Soap, he gives you a strained grin, his gun lower than usually positioned by his core as he tilts his head, signaling towards Price, signally for assurance.

A cough can be heard as you all turn to face Gaz who stands with his arms outstretched as you walk over to give him a hug, your gun dangling across your chest as you both shimmy around one anothers gear with a laugh. With your face plastered into his side, he gives a wink towards Simon and Johnny- a look of understanding for their current state as messages are shared throughout the facility- it was time for exfil after a mission well served. 

--

A shake of your shoulder as your eyes snapping awake, you did not mean to have a nap. Blinking your eyes clear, you notice as a corporal shakes you awake then points to the Captain. Price’s eyes scan your own in a restless search- but for what? Tilting your head towards the Captain to signify your confusion towards his actions he patches himself into your radio system while holding your gaze. 

“Do you know if your shadow friends will be joining us for the next objective?”

“Unclear sir, I have yet to hear from their intelligence crews” the title you state becomes knives to John’s ears, cutting their way down to his lungs as he takes a breath in trying to calm himself, already worked up from the earlier mission as you blink none-the-wiser to your word choice’s impact. 

“John or Price, your choice Dice…” John replies with a more flat tone than usual that has your head topping to the side. “Sorry Price, still wearing off the adrenaline from the mission, brains a bit scrambled as of current,” you state with a sloppy smile as he casts a tired one of his own, closing his eyes with a humm, extending his boot to touch your own as you lock your ankles around it. 

Soon Ghosts voice comes through your headset as you look around to find where he was seated, five seats down, the masked figure stared down the aisle to look at you and his Captain while moving his mic down to his mouth, “Had to hold Johnny back from that Horangi guy a few days ago, same can be said about Gaz and Köing. Mop-masked was holding Kyle in a death stare in the meeting room.”

Johnny pipes up to conversation beside Simon as he notices what is being discussed from the reactions everyone is displaying from throughout the aisle, pulling down his radio system. Simon grips his thigh, as if warning him of doing something that has your eyes narrowing in mixed confusion, concern and irritation- what were they keeping from you?

“Al’right, that Horangi fucker. What is his deal, gorgeous? Really had to share some harsh words with him after what he said about you. Can’t fucking believe that you would say he’s your best with the alligations he presented,” Soap rants while rolling his shoulders, as if preparing himself for a fight. 

“Is that why you were being so touchy in the car ride? You only had to ask, quite like your hands,” you ask with a teasing tone, blood still pumping through your body as you watch as Johnny's cheeks flush, the adrenaline from the mission has him on edge as your little stab has him falling back in embarrassment before he rounds his own fireback. 

“Love hearing my name on your lips, may have to come over there so you never forget it,” he teases right back with a large wink as Simon whispers for you all to “tone it down,” as he looks at the various eyes looking between our squad- trying to understand the conversation happening between you all. 

“If I remember, there were some other names you wished me to call you as well but first, do tell me about these allegations,” you press forward. Gaz now joins, offering his side from an unknown place in the plane. “Simon patched me into what's happening. Köing rubbed me the wrong way with his looks, as if he knew something I didn’t.”

Johnny presses the topic further, adding, “Said that I would never know what you really needed from a ‘team’. I don’t regret my actions, Y/N, I will tell you that now. But when they say those kinds of things, and you leave for those weeks when they arrive- leads me to conclusions I don’t wish to face. We acted nice in front of you, Dice. But I need you to tell me before we land, are you a part of our squad or not?”

“Always,” you answer before your brain can keep up, “I talked in parts of this with Simon one day but… you guys are it for me I think. I cannot say for sure after this mission but… I got what I needed off my plate these past few weeks with the past and now I can promise that you have only my attention,” you state with a raised chest in pride. 

“I better have all of your attention,” Johnny comments back, “Alright you,” Simon voices over, taking off Soaps headset and placing it out of reach as you howl with laughter down the line, waking Price up from his temporary drift off, flashing you a smile as you wince out an apology. 

Shaking your head down in your laugh to calm down, you pick your microphone back down to continue speaking, “Look, I apologise to you all for my shitty behaviour, their equally shitty behaviour- really all around shitness that has happened. You all have become my truest friends since meeting Gabby in elementary and friends is a term I do not use sparingly- I must hold my thanks. I will do better to come to you all when I am struggling,” you promise watching as Soap manages to sneak back his headset while Simon sends you a warm stare that has you flashing him a smile, enjoying how beet red he gets underneath his gear. 

“Just, Friends- hm?” Soap questions with a small frown flashing across his features. 

You smile and nod back vigorously, not knowing how to place your thanks into words in a better way than actions. Failing to notice the tone in which the word was replied back in as he leans back against the divider and out of sight with a contemplative humm. 

Simon chuckles at your answer, the deep sound causing your heart to race and our lungs to flutter. How you wished to hear the sound again as you watched his chest rise and fall with the actions while underneath that tight black vest. As Gaz and Price remain silent to the conversation. 

A few moments go by as you all allow the words to sink in. “Do you have a thing for masks, Dice?” Johnny questions in a serious tone while leaning into Simon's side, doing as he does best- lightening the mood. 

You choke on your own spit at the accusation being presented as you stutter for an answer, brain firing on multiple fronts from the whiplash of a conversation. 

“I-I’m sorry, could you repeat the question? I think the lack of air is getting to my head.”

Johnny merely smiles before restating the question as calmly as before, as if asking for your favorite colour or season. “Do you have a thing for people in masks? Notice you know many people that wear em’”

“I uh…” your voice trails off as you contemplate your answer, eyes slowly drifting towards Ghost who stares down your form intently waiting to hear your answer. Yet as the seconds tick by, the lack of answer eventually forms one in itself as you hear Gaz chuckle down the radio before turning himself silent and the Captain coughs a few times, turning red underneath his own mustache as he refuses to meet your stare. 

“Do you?” you question back, partially curious and the other seeking a slight revenge from playing your in this blushed-filled and nervous state. 

“Oh, definitely” he replies quickly before you all burst into laughter and the landing sign is singled moments after, it was home time. 

--

Once back on base, a few days of paperwork are filled out as the days and hours clock down to your next departure. You do your best not to think about it as you ask Gabby for clothing recommendations in your room, she asks you to spin with a wave of her finger as you do so with a groan of frustration. You had been stuck in this endless cycle for nearly two hours now and you had told Gaz you would be meeting him in the lobby in three hours. 

You had gone through your whole closet before you outwords protest, unable to keep to just your facial reactions as Gabby hides behind a pair of shoes she found at the back of your closet between the dozen pairs of work-boots. “It’s not even a date, Gabs. We are just making up for lost time with some coffee, nothin’ more nothing less-”

“And I know where my dad went-okay?! If this is not a date, I do not know what else is sweetheart. Treat yourself~” she sings out before throwing another pair of pants for you to try on. She claps her hands together, fixing the buttons on your shirt as she frizzles your hair. “Have fun, you look like a million dollar baby!” Kicking your butt on the way out she quickly turns around to place the mess she created of your room as you lock the apartment door behind yourself and Gaz pulls you into a hug once meeting downstairs. 

He opens the door for you, helping you out of the car as well and orders you both two teas with an assortment of small snacks for lunch. Conversation flows between small hand touches and the linking of shoes from below the table. You rest a hand against his thigh, watching as he chokes down his glass of water as you cast the man a wink. 

The check slamming against the table has you both stumbling out as dinner time nears, “How about I treat us to dinner?” you say while looking up nearby restaurants on your phone. “Sounds good, love,” Kyle states while wrapping an arm around your waist with a cheeky smile as an elderly couple look towards you both with disgust. 

Gaz watches as your smile falls slightly and you back away. He still walks near you, arms brushing against one another in hopes that you would feel more comfortable again, casting him a thankful smile as you both walk down another block to the small Turkish restaurant. 

You both sit beside one another, sharing food off each others plats as you ignore the endless stream of messages that Gabby sends you, excusing yourself to the washroom- you open your text messages and cough out in shock, “I’m sorry for spamming, you two are probably fucking right now- next time I want in, have fun! Tell me how he is~” Blushing bright red, your fingers rush across the keyboard, scolding your best friend before splashing water across your face. 

Once returning back to the table, Kyle holds his arm up, allowing you to become wrapped underneath its calming pressure, “you doing okay?” he asked you in a hushed tone, lips right against your ear as your blush extends to your ears now. “Just peachy.”

--

When you leave the restaurant and pick the car back up, you invite Kyle back to your place, “It is closer to here and it would be best to not wake the rest of the lads up,” you comment. “If you want me more to yourself- you can just tell me sweetheart,” he teases while running circles into your knee as he makes a turn into your block. 

Leaning over to press a kiss against his cheek, your voice becomes more hushed as you unlock your apartment door and rush up to Spoons. Who looks as happy and healthy as ever, note to self, the elderly neighbour gets a gift. Kyle leans down, giving your pet a quick past before yawning and stretching out of their boots. 

He trails down the hallway behind you, hands on your waist as you open your bedroom door, throwing yourself on the bed with an overtired giggle. He follows suit as you roll over, giving him enough space, noticing this he pulls you underneath the covers and against him. “Thank you, Kyle Garrick,” you whisper out, hoping him to be asleep already. 

“What for?” he asks out in an equally delicate tone, feeling as your heart races against his chest. “For staying with me, for understanding…” you start to cry, unable to find the right words as he kisses the top of your head, brushing some hair from your forehead. “Hey, hey, hey, sweetheart. I am always here, alright? Never question that.” 

He feels as you nod once more and chuckles when Spoons snuggles themselves in the empty space at the foot of the bed, emitting a few purrs as you all drift off into the world beyond.

Lasting Pictures Series Masterlist

↳ Taglist: @thriving-n-jiving @cringeycookies @ashy-kit @lilliumrorum @kaoyamamegami

[emsprovisions]

I know I am being greedy here but,

3. I can't seem to take neither my eyes, nor my mind off of you, TK

8. being ur partner's mum's favorite.

from romance prompt please.

From this list of writing prompts that I am no longer accepting. Hello anon! Someone else has also asked for no. 3 so I will answer theirs :)

being ur partner's mum's favorite.

Carlos sits on the couch, his ankle crossed over his opposite knee and a beer in his hand as he watches his husband playing firefighter with action figures and a toy fire engine with their young sobrinos on the floor. They keep pausing because they want to hear TK’s stories from his firefighter days, since apparently–according to Six-and-eight-year-old Diego and Juliana–paramedics aren’t as cool. They giggle as TK keeps playfully correcting their terminology of the ladder truck and exactly how many inches of line they should start and Carlos’s heart just swells. 

“Ay, TK?” Carlos’s mom pops her head in from the backdoor, “Are you in here, mijo?”

“What do you need, Ma?” Carlos sits up, uncrossing his legs and making to get up.

“Oh, no, you stay right there, Carlitos. I need TK’s expertise.”

“It’s fine, babe, I could do with stretching my legs anyway,” TK smiles up at Carlos. He gets up, much to Diego and Juliana’s dismay, and promises he’ll be back. He purposely walks around the couch so he can pass Carlos, stooping to kiss the top of his head as he does so. 

After TK disappears, Carlos is left alone with his sobrinos, and they coax him into playing firefighter with him instead. But Tío TK does it better than Tío Carlos, evidently. 

When TK’s been gone for too long, and Carlos’s brother-in-law wanders in to check on his kids, Carlos stands up. 

“Have you seen TK?” He asks Ricardo as he approaches. 

“He’s out on the back porch,” Ricardo says, almost bitterly. “With your mom, and Tía Lucy, and my wife.”

“Uh, thanks,” Carlos says, looking at Ricky apprehensively before excusing himself in search of his husband. 

TK’s got a glass of sweet tea in his hand, slapping his knee, while Ana clings to his arm, gasping for breath. 

“No way!” She laughs. “Tonterías! That did not happen.”

“It did,” TK nods. “I swear it on my mother’s grave.”

TK looks up as the screen door swings shut and sees Carlos step out before anyone else. 

“Hey, baby!” TK calls. “Come join us.”

Carlos lingers by the door, watching TK fit in with his family so seamlessly. They’ve been married for nearly a year now, but sometimes it still surprises him that he has this. He not only gets to be himself, he gets to be himself around his family, and they are all enamored with TK, too. 

TK’s smiling at him, patting the empty seat beside him and Carlos smiles and slides onto the long bench beside his husband, an arm going around his shoulder and TK’s hand falling into place on top of his knee. 

“What did I interrupt?” Carlos asks. 

“Oh, I was just telling everyone about that call we got the other day, where the neighbors were having a domestic dispute and one of them threw pickle juice all over my patient and it turned out she’s allergic to pickles,” TK grins, catching Carlos up on the story. “Ana here doesn’t believe that we get calls as ridiculous as that all the time.”

“That’s because that’s impossible!” Ana scoffs. “Who’s allergic to pickles??”

“My patient, evidently,” TK smirks at her. 

Carlos laughs, “There’s a lot of stupid people in this world, Ana. You would not believe the absurdity of some of the calls I used to get under APD.”

“Babe, you get ridiculous cases now too,” TK reminds him. 

“Cuéntanos más de tus historias, TK.”

TK smiles warmly at Tía Lucy over in her blue adirondack chair in the deck before looking up to Carlos for help. 

“Tía wants to hear more of your stories,” Carlos tells him, looking up at his great aunt and the delight on her face. She can’t speak English, but she can mostly understand it, and joy and humor are universal languages anyways. 

TK launches into more funny stories from different calls before Ricardo comes outside with a screaming Diego, and it’s time for Ana to go home. 

Andrea takes TK inside and Carlos is tasked with helping Tía Lucy inside and to her chair in her room. 

“You have a sweet young man, Carlitos,” she tells him in Spanish. “Muy guapo y divertido.”

It’s not the first time she’s commented on TK. Honestly, Tía Lucy always fawns over Carlos’s husband to the point Carlos wonders if she doesn’t have some schoolgirl type crush on him. Carlos has no idea how TK charms everyone that comes into his orbit, he’s just happy he’s the lucky guy TK vowed forever with. 

“I think so too, Tía,” Carlos responds in Spanish, winking at her. 

They chat for a while longer before Tía Lucy says she’s tired. Carlos kisses her cheek and wishes her a goodnight. He wanders back out into the main room to find TK and his mom chatting in hushed voices on the couch. TK has his hand on Andrea’s arm, rubbing his thumb back and forth over her skin. She pulls him into a tight hug, then kisses his cheek and whispers something into his ear.

Carlos watches the scene unfold, feeling a little bad for interrupting. But before he can duck into the kitchen unnoticed, his mom catches sight of him. 

“Oh, Carlitos!” She pulls away from TK and wipes delicately at the skin beneath her eyes. 

“Hi, Mamá. Everything okay?” Carlos asks, coming nearer to them.

“We’re okay,” TK reassures. His eyes are a bit shiny too. He reaches out for Carlos’s hand and Carlos comes close enough to give it to him.

Neither of them offer up any hint of what their conversation was about, but Andrea stands up and gives Carlos a warm and tight hug. And even though he’s almost twice her size, he still folds easily into his mother’s arms. 

It’s not until they’re in the car, driving down the 35, the darkness of the night stretching all around them and Carlos’s hand extended over the console on TK’s thigh, does Carlos find the bravery to ask what that was about.

TK plays with Carlos’s fingers with both hands and says in a quiet voice, “She was talking to me about being a Ranger’s spouse…”

Carlos glances over at TK. It’s hard to get a read on him as they pass through swathes of light from oncoming headlights and the rare street light. 

“Oh?”

TK shakes his head, “You’ve been in law enforcement the entire time we’ve been together, baby, it’s not like her advice was anything I haven’t already worried about before.”

“What did she say?” Carlos asks, his anxiety spiking and suddenly wishing he’d saved this conversation for home so he could see TK better. 

TK’s fingers keep brushing over his knuckles. “She just wanted me to know you could be in danger sometimes, which again, isn’t really new. But she also wanted me to know if I ever need to talk to someone about what I’ll go through as your husband, I could talk to her.”

Carlos glances over again, softening a bit at his mom offering that to TK. “What do you think about that?”

“I think it’s nice.” Carlos can hear the smile in TK’s voice. “I love your mom, and I love that she would want to be there to help me support you.”

“Buuut…?”

“No but’s,” TK says, shaking his head. “She says we’re a strong couple, and sees how much we love each other. She thinks we can handle anything.”

“She’s not the only one,” Carlos smiles, squeezing TK’s thigh. 

“No,” TK smiles. “She’s not the only one. She told me the best thing I can do for you is love you, and remind you you’re never alone in life, and remind you to take care of yourself and put work away when you’re home.” 

Carlos turns his palm up and TK gives him his hand, lacing their fingers together. He takes it a step further by cradling Carlos’s arm and tilting sideways to lean against Carlos’s bicep. 

“You do a good job of making sure I’m taken care of, baby,” Carlos says softly as he takes their exit for home. 

“You’re worth it,” TK says simply, turning his face to kiss Carlos’s shoulder. 

“You know my family’s enamored with you, right?” Carlos smiles.

TK laughs and teases, “Are you jealous Tía Lucy dotes on me now more than you?”

“No,” Carlos says, his voice light. “I love seeing you with our family. It makes me happy.”

TK snuggles up against Carlos’s arm even more in the passenger seat and Carlos tells him he better not fall asleep when they’re five minutes from home. He feels TK’s smile against his arm, and fondness for his husband impossibly grows. 

TK sure does know how to steal a Reyes’s heart.

[cheesecakeislazy]

JEFF THE KILLER HEADCANONS BECAUSE FUCK YOU! (Jk I love you and hope your life is great)

1. Him and BeN are besties for life, ride or die, would suck the poison out of each others dicks (not gay though)

2. Jeff has eye drops on him 24/7 so he doesn’t go fucking blind

3. Jeff has anger issues, one moment he’s chill as fuck and then EJ told him something that pisses him off- and now there’s a stab wound in Toby, a hole in the wall, and an angry Slenderman.

4. Jeff is totally straight. He totally thinks boobs are awesome. And totally only boobs. (He’s bisexual and swears on god he’s straight.)

5. He wakes up at 2 pm because he hates being awake in the mornings

6. He’s a metal head. He blasts music from his room so loud you can hear it across the mansion (slender mansion AU)

7. His deep gravely ass voice is perfect for metal songs

8. He likes to paint his nails black, and black only any other color is fucking gay

9. His vocabulary is 90% cuss words

10. He rarely showers. Ironically the gamer showers more often than him. Jeff prefers to be a stinky son of a bitch (take that fangirls)

11. He makes up for it with his dental hygiene (kinda) he brushes them twice a day and they look perfect (mostly)

12. He has extra sharp canines

13. He named his knife “Knifu” aka his knife waifu

14. The knife has been used so much that it constantly reeks of bleach and blood; it has permanent blood stains on it

15. Jeff bites his nails pretty often

16. Jeff isn’t good with throwing knives- he also isn’t that good at stabbing…

17. Jeff literally just stabs and stabs until he thinks his victim is dead, he doesn’t know any major artery’s (did I spell that right?)

18. Jeff is dyslexic

19. Jeff is horrible at math but refuses to admit it

20. Jeff wears eyeliner but refuses to admit it

21. He secretly loves the color pink but refuses to admit it (see a pattern here yet?)

22. Jeff is super sensitive to light due to the fact he doesn’t have any eyelids

23. He wears black gloves because he has burn marks on his hands and hates it when people look at them (fingerless gloves as his fingers aren’t burnt)

24. Jeff really wants tattoos and piercings but can’t get any due to his skin being extremely sensitive and fragile

25. Jeff hates the sun, it hurts his eyes and skin

26. Jeff likes going to playgrounds at night because 1. Fucking swings are awesome and 2. Creepy

27. Fucker is 5’11 and constantly calls BeN a midget

28. Jeff had a small crush on Toby for a while and lowkey has a small crush on BeN but…

29. Jeff is highkey downbad for EJ (it’s one-sided)

30. If Jeff ever tried to cook, he would burn everything

31. Jeff is fucking terrified of fire

32. Sometimes Ben likes to scare Jeff shitless by lighting a small fire inside Bens hands infront of Jeff

33. Sometimes Jeff throws Ben inside a kiddy pool and watches him panic about drowning (he is fully above the water)

34. Despite the fact Jeff and Ben both fuck with each other and their fears, they do it in tame ways to ensure the other doesn’t actually have a panic attack of any kind

35. Jeff lives in sweatpants, jeans are for losers and shorts are gay

36. T-shirts and hoodies, Jeff literally does not own a single sweater, long sleeve, or tank top.

37. His favorite T-shirt says “Fuck me in my ass (but not in a gay way)”

38. His second favorite says “Emo metal loving slut”

39. Both and almost all of his t-shirts are black with either white or red/pink writing

40. It is Jeff’s goal to have every photo taken of him (with permission) to have him flipping off the camera

41. Jeff watches South Park but thinks Family guy is stupid

42. He tries really hard to get on Liu/Sully’s good side but his anger issues usually get in the way

43. Jeff and Nina are actually really good friends that lowkey view each other as family

44. Jeff and Nina love to piss each other off constantly (Ben will prank whoever he is asked to)

45. Jeff has tried to kill Jane quite a few times, and Jane is constantly trying to kill him

46. Jeff personally isn’t into weed but he doesn’t judge BeN for being a stoner lowkey

47. Jeff is a virgin but he wouldn’t be nervous at all about having sex

48. Jeff is a kinky bastard

49. Jeff likes a good bowl of strawberry ice cream

50. Jeff likes banana smoothies

51. Jeff owns a few Nirvana T-shirts

[spliffymae]

WRITTEN OFF.

synopsis: it’s just you and your ex husband speaking…at three in the morning…with tensions at a crazy high…you’re totally fine.

⚠️, swearing, mentions of cheating, smut, oral (m receiving), toji is a dickhead, reader experiencing body issues during pregnancy, angst with a mix of sadness.

pt.1 if y’all haven’t read it already :)

kio’s notes - guys i am so proud of this part. omfg idk what it is but i ate this shit up. also wanted to just say thank you all so much for interacting with my posts and loving my stories 🫶🏽🥹 honestly makes me so happy to know y’all love it!

now playing:

⊱ ──────── {.⋅ ♫ ⋅.}──────── ⊰

“so my name can’t be said in your house, toji? what, am i voldemort now?”

“might as well be.” he mumbled, looking anywhere but at you. he couldn’t, not when you wore one of his old college sweaters he had forgotten at your house when you two started dating, four years ago. you ended up keeping it as a part of your wardrobe.

unfortunately, you hadn’t a clue that you were wearing something of his.

you folded your arms, leaning on your right leg. you were going to start with your attitude, you knew that for certain, and you didn’t care. “really? that’s how we’re acting? grow the hell up, toji. i’m not the one who ruined our marriage.”

“no just the one who ended it, right?”

you scoffed, “well i wonder why!” you said sarcastically. if he could play the ass then so could you. hell, you’d do it better.

toji rolled his eyes as a response. “i’m not doing whatever this is with you, (y/n). just tell me what megumi took and let me go take care of him.” he pinched the bridge of his nose with his empty hand. he was stressed, the evidence all over his face.

unbeknownst to you, he had been having the hardest time as a single father, trying to manage the complexities between todays adolescent life and the development of a baby. now add on his hefty paperwork from his missions and he was positive he could be sent to an early grave from stressing so hard. there wasn’t enough time in the day.

“i don’t know what the drug is, he—.” toji cut you off,

“the hell you mean you don’t know?” he spoke as if you should’ve known, almost judging you for not. the tone had your brow raised, now looking at him with narrow eyes. it was your way of telepathy, non-verbally telling him to ‘watch it’, because he was on paper thin ice.

“like i was saying—he got in the car and didn’t say. i didn’t even think to ask at that moment because i was just concerned with bringing him home first. it was a priority but at—.”

he cut you off again, this time with a scoff.

“just not top priority, right?”

you blinked.

you blinked again.

there was a silence between the two of you. a thick silence holding all the tension you two had created from being in the others presence.

toji had regretted the words just as they came out. he knew he messed up. he knew megumi had been your top priority when he didn’t have to be. when you were nothing more than toji’s friend who would just babysit the young boy whenever his father went out on missions.

megumi had been your first child, whether it be by blood or not. you loved him like he was, raised him, and became the parent he never knew he needed.

toji would always say it was your smile that drew him in, or say to his colleagues at work dinners it was your beauty, but truthfully—honestly, it was the way you loved his son like he was your own.

“i’m gonna give you a chance to take that back,” you spoke softly, voice slightly cracking. “because i know right now you’re just saying shit to hurt me. i love megumi, and if you wanna swing low, i promise you, toji, i will swing to hell.” you pointed. your eyes had become glossy with tears and you hated it.

megumi was a soft spot for you, always has been. whenever you and toji would get in spats in regard to him you were always on the defense for megumi. you were his advocate when there was no one else. but you were also reminded by toji (only when boiling points had been reached) that your advocacy did not need to be respected because you were not megumi’s real mom.

toji looked at his daughter, who had fallen asleep against his chest, soft and shallow breaths leaving her lips. she was your twin and he knew it was his karma. karma for his infidelity, his lying ways. he knew he shouldn’t have said anything, but he couldn’t help it.

“say it, toji. tell me i’m not his mom—do it!” you stepped closer. your eyes quickly darted to your daughter to see if your sudden volume increase had startled her awake. thankfully it didn’t.

“tell me he’s not my son, go ahead. tell me i went to every sports game, recital, and parent-teacher interview by myself because he wasn’t my son. say it, i want to hear you say, ‘(y/n), you’re not megumi’s mom. he’s not your son.”

there were tears in your eyes now, droplets falling after you’d blink. “let me remind you while you were out getting your dick wet in another bitch, i was home, pregnant and alone, with megumi who had a high ass fever. i took care of him when his own father put pussy over him. so don’t come to me about my priorities, ight?”

at the mention of his cheating, toji’s lips pressed into a thin line. he had definitely struck a nerve with his previous comment.

“i told you she meant nothing to me. i wasn’t in my right mind and—”

“and were just mad at your pregnant wife, so you decided to cheat on her. that would show me, huh toji?”

how many times was he going to have to apologize for what he did?

for doing the one thing he swore to not do?

he opened his mouth to speak. what he was going to say was what he didn’t quite know just yet. he wasn’t sure if he wanted to defend himself or just fight back. what was even the point of fighting back? everything you were saying was true.

rin had fussed from under him, her little whines being a reminder to her parents she was still present.

“i—” toji began but you cut him off by raising your hand up,

“shut up and feed my child. i’m going to go check on my son.” you didn’t wait for response from him as you turned to head upstairs, stomping away to let out some anger.

you left toji to realize he was in fact about to feed rin before arguing with you. and he cursed himself for forgetting what he originally came downstairs to do.

“shit.” he muttered as he went to the couch. he took her out the carrier and sat down with her. thankfully her bottle hadn’t spoiled and was still warm. damn you for being aware of your daughters needs.

“sorry, rinny. got distracted.” he kissed her forehead as he put the bottle to her lips. there was that feeling he felt in the kitchen again, that guilt. he hated it.

it was like someone took a fire to the inside of his stomach. it was hot, burning even. he was uncomfortable whenever it came because it was a feeling he couldn’t suppress.

he felt ever since that night, and it only ever grew as the days progressed.

toji had come home later than he told you, he had to stop to bring home food for you and megumi, as well as shower to rid himself of the smell of sex.

he didn’t mean to do it, honestly. he was just mad and needy. you hadn’t been giving him the attention he wanted from you. you wouldn’t let him touch you or even kiss you anywhere that wasn’t on your face. he needed the intimacy, and you only wanted privacy.

you claimed it was because you felt gross. you tried to explain to your husband how the pregnancy was affecting your mental state, mostly how you viewed your body. you already had body issues prior to being pregnant, but now, at your six month mark, you felt like you didn’t know who was staring back at you in the mirror.

but toji couldn’t understand. he kept trying to tell you how pretty you were to him, how beautiful you were all big with his baby, but you would never really take in his words. you just shrugged them and his reassuring kisses off with a fake smile and a quiet “thanks.”

you were supposed to go with him to this big work dinner. you had promised him you’d go and be his pretty little wife months ago. smile big in front of potential clients, mention your husband’s various accolades, basically put toji on a pedestal so they would choose him.

but when the night came, you weren’t feeling up for the event. toji of course wasn’t pleased as he had been telling you about this dinner for months. he tried to convince you to come but like previous disputes you two have had, it ended in yelling and arguments.

you yelled at him for his apathy; not understanding just how tired you were from carrying his baby, working during the pregnancy, and being the present parent for megumi in terms of school while toji went on his missions.

he yelled at you for not giving him the attention he deserves as your husband. for not being there for him when he needed you. honestly he knew it was dumb to have this argument. he should’ve just kissed you and agreed to let you stay home. but his stupid pride got in the way.

so he ended up going alone, dressed in his fancy suit and shoes, silver audemars piguet watch on his wrist and cuff links to match. he walked into the banquet hall and decided he would do it all himself—like he always did.

that’s when he stumbled into her, shoko ieri. she had complimented him on the way he flipped one of the biggest and most stubborn drug lords in the city to hire him for a hit job. she offered to buy him a celebratory drink, whiskey—since she was drinking it too.

it happened fast, at least to toji. the way they went from a playful banter by the bar to sitting next to each other at one of the tables. she had been a guest of his colleague, satorou gojo. she was a doctor for men in his line of work.

“so if i get injured on the job…” toji remembers starting, leaning back in the chair and putting his arm around the back of shoko’s. he had a smirk on his face as he manspread in his seat.

“then just stop by mine and i’ll make it all better.” she patted his cheek, eyes twinkling in mischief.

she ordered another round of whiskey for the two of them. the more he drank, the more you and megumi slipped from his mind. the more he ignored the gnawing sound in the back of his head. the one that kept telling him to stop.

another round of whiskey lowers the volume of his conscience. he can hear shoko better as she tells him about an impromptu surgery she performed on toji’s other colleague—and the godfather to your daughter, suguru geto. she touches toji’s bicep every now and again, as the story reaches turning points and it’s climax. the noise in his head comes back once she finishes the story, reminding him that you are waiting for him at home.

“but i don’t want to talk about me. i want to hear about the one and only toji fushiguro,” she leans in to him and his heart swells.

another round of whiskey. the noise has been minimized to a hum toji now hears every now and again as he tells her about an operation gone wrong in nagasaki. the conversation takes a flirtatious turn when shoko’s hand flies to his knee in a somber stroke, mumbling about how tired toji must’ve been after. his ego bursts.

another round of whiskey and toji does not recall there ever being a noise in his head. it’s quiet now, with only the sound of the jazz band and shoko having his attention. her hand remains on his knee, cherry red nails scraping against his thigh as it inches higher. toji makes a comment about switching to water for the night but shoko reminds him that just like the night they are both young.

another round of whiskey. toji’s hand is squeezing shoko’s thigh, his fingers grazing higher to places he yearns to explore. her lips now the colour plum, stained from the red wine she was nursing in between shots.

“there’s a hotel above us, y’know.” her eyes were piercing into his own. lips in a smirk and cheeks red from being flustered.

“so why are we still sitting here?” toji asked, lifting a brow. shoko smiled and unlocked her phone, passed it to him with the contact page open.

“add yourself. then wait for ten minutes.” she had a confidence about her that toji found captivating. so he did as she said, tapping his thumbs against her screen and filling out the information. when he gave her back the phone, she smiled and stood up, sauntering away.

his dick was hard. he was leaning back in the chair, wiping a hand down his face to calm himself down.

in the moments he spent to himself, the noise he had long forgotten slowly made its way back to max volume. he signaled to the waitress for another round.

the glasses of alcohol were brought in front of him, two tall shot glasses. he took them down without a thought, the liquid burning his throat.

his phone vibrated on his lap,

unknown

room 615.

it happened in slow motion, at least to toji. the way his fist knocked against the door of the hotel room and shoko answered with a smirk before pulling him in by his belt. then things started to pick up.

the way he cupped her face and kissed her hungrily. his anger from earlier and passion from the lust he felt were put into the kiss, the sounds of their lips smacking and shoko moaning ringing in his ears.

she broke away to flash a wicked smile before she bent down in her heels, becoming eye level with his crotch. she began pawing at the bulge in his pants, emitting a groan from him. his hand grabbed at her hair, chestnut coloured tresses bunched up in his fist and a gruff “suck it” leaving his lips.

his dick was hard and it was leaking for her. the way she sucked on his reddened tip had his eyes fluttering closed. she opened her mouth wide and took him until her nose was brushing against his freshly trimmed pubic hairs.

those same nails that had his leg jumping traced his prominent v-line. toji was seeing stars as she began to bob her head. he hadn’t gotten head in so long, months probably. her throat was so tight, so warm.

does it help if he said he thought of you during it, the cheating?

when he had her back arched over the bathroom sink and stared at her fucked out expression through the mirror, he saw you for a minute. he blamed the alcohol, of course.

would it make you feel better if he said he used condoms?

he didn’t want to bring anything back to you. and after that night, he got tested sometime that week to make sure everything was okay. it was, and he let out a sigh of relief.

can knowing he felt like absolute shit once he finished bring you solace?

when she had come for the third and final time in the bed, he gave her a kiss to the forehead as she fell to sleep. he walked bear to the shower and at the sight of himself in the mirror he wanted to throw up.

he came home just after midnight to find you were sitting outside megumi’s door with a blanket over your body and head resting back against the wall.

“love,” toji crouched down and shook you softly. you should have been in bed. “(y/n), wake up.”

you stirred, but eventually your eyes opened to see your husband, with a curious look on his face. “you’re on the floor.”

“why didn’t you answer your phone?” was the first thing you asked him. you didn’t say hi, you didn’t ask how the night was—you got straight to it.

toji pulled his phone out from his pants pocket and turned off his do not disturb to see he had five missed calls and ten texts from you.

“i put it on do not disturb so i could focus on the clients, m’sorry baby. what happened, are you okay?” he quickly scrolled through the messages:

wifey👩🏽‍❤️‍💋‍👨🏻💍

you seriously are going to throw a fit bc i’m pregnant and tired?

wifey👩🏽‍❤️‍💋‍👨🏻💍

fine fuck you then

wifey👩🏽‍❤️‍💋‍👨🏻💍

ok not fuck you fuck you. fuck you for now

wifey👩🏽‍❤️‍💋‍👨🏻💍

megs is sick and his head is burning. is your dinner close to finishing?

wifey👩🏽‍❤️‍💋‍👨🏻💍

toji i get we are beefing atm but our son is sick and i need your help

wifey👩🏽‍❤️‍💋‍👨🏻💍

he just told me to leave him alone bc he doesn’t want to get me sick and possibly harm the baby. i told him that won’t happen but he won’t listen to me. toji pls call him

wifey👩🏽‍❤️‍💋‍👨🏻💍

bro can you not be on your petty shit for a hot minute and just answer me?! i don’t know what to do he has chills now! holy fuck

wifey👩🏽‍❤️‍💋‍👨🏻💍

toji !

wifey👩🏽‍❤️‍💋‍👨🏻💍

update: it’s been an hr, idk what tf you got goin on but megs is still sick. i made him soup and he had a little before throwing up. i gave him some medicine and cold towel for his head but there’s no change. idek why i’m texting this shit to you 🙄

wifey👩🏽‍❤️‍💋‍👨🏻💍

if i lock your ass out pls know it was justified.

toji looked at you with apologetic eyes. you were mad, rightfully so. you had expressed to him how uncomfortable you had been lately, with your body in more pain then before. standing up for long was difficult, he knew this. he had heard the doctor tell you not to over exert yourself and take it easy on your body.

“started to think you wouldn’t be coming home.” you pushed the blanket off of you, dressed in one of his tee shirts and a pair of your pajama pants, your cornrows tucked away under your hair scarf.

you struggled to get up on your own, your max weight now being shifted to your front and creating an imbalance. but you did it with a huff, toji standing tall now and watching. he had offered to help but you slapped his hand away.

“(y/n)—.”

“shut the fuck up. i’m going to bed and you’re on the couch.” you pushed the blanket into his chest. he was still slightly drunk so he stumbled back a bit, but caught himself.

toji didn’t have any more time to dwell on his past actions. or to recall the night you found out, because you had come back downstairs. “megs’ still high, but he says it’s better than how he was before. he said he and his friends took a pill—probably molly. i ordered him some food to eat so hopefully it comes down fast. rin doing okay?” you stood at the bottom of the stairs, leaning against the banister.

in front of you was toji’s back as he held rin, who was fast asleep in a formula coma. the bottle was empty and she was content, snoring away in her fathers arms.

“she’s fine now.” he mumbled but you heard. and with a nod, you walked to the door to put your shoes back on.

“great, i’ll be on my way. listen out for his food. kiss rin f’me.”

toji heard you unlock the door, and heard the sound of it opening. before you walked out though, he called out to you.

“yes?”

“was there any part of you that would’ve taken me back….after everything?” he turned his head so he could see you in his peripheral. he wasn’t going to look at you as you said it, he couldn’t.

he doesn’t think you understand how hard it’s been to look at you since that night.

you blew air out your mouth, cheeks puffed and eyebrows raised. you hadn’t expected for this to be the question he asks you as you get ready to leave. not at damn near five in the morning.

but might as well, right?

“honestly, yeah. i would always have these random moments where i would feel like i needed you again, in my life or in my bed…but then i would remember that you cheated on me when i was pregnant, and when i was in the darkest period of my pregnancy, at that.”

the emotions were still raw for you, the betrayal and the pain. it was a feeling that felt almost close to that of stabbing. a piercing blade through your heart that turned deeper into the organ anytime you’d think about it.

“i, uh, remember how i stayed up crying for months after because i just knew that whoever that woman was, she must’ve been the definition of gorgeous—because you used to tell me there was not a being alive who could outshine my beauty. and i believed you.”

“i didn’t lie” toji said. his voice was shaky and he honestly didn’t know why he asked you such a question. it was obvious there was no sign of reconciliation between you two. but yet he asked anyways, hoping some higher being somewhere would give him back his family. he didn’t appreciate it at first, but he’s learned now.

you chuckled dryly, “no, you were just proven wrong. goodnight, toji.” you quickly left after that, not wanting to wait around for anything he had to say.

as far as you were concerned, that was the end. it was over.

pt. 3

[waywardcrow]

Heaven and hell were words to me.

Summary: Bucky remembers your love story when he finds you singing your favorite song.

I had a strike of inspiration last night listening Work song by Hozier and this came to me. Please remember to like, reblog and comment, thanks!

Warnings: English is not my first language so please if I make a mistake let me know. Themes about nightmares, a hint of depression and made up things about powers of dream walking, Bucky Barnes being adorable but also his past as the Winter soldier, pregnancy, let me know if I miss something.

I do not consent to my work being copied, translated or reposted.

Bucky made his way to the kitchen, following the smell of the cheesecake you were making and the song you were singing very out of tune. It was your song.

Boys when my baby found me, I was three days on a drunken sin…

When Steve convinced him to move to the Compound, Bucky spent almost a month avoiding everyone as much as he could, he wasn’t cleared for missions so his routine consisted of going to mandated therapy and sneaking out of his room at night when nobody was around. You noticed it but chose to say nothing, instead you started to leave baked desserts for him knowing very well how hard it was to go back to your life after living in hell for so long.

I didn’t cared how much I lived…

There was not much his first therapist could do for him, Nat helped to find him another but his nightmares and lack of sleep were concerning everyone, despite Bucky’s protest that he was fine, he deserved to remember all the pain and everything he did. That’s when you came in.

But I swear I thought I dreamed her…

Your powers allowed you to dream walk and it was rare the occasion where you used that specific power but Sam and Steve asked you to help Bucky after he agreed. It was hard to walk with him through the horrors he endured but you were patient with him, when he wanted to stop so you couldn’t witness what he did, you showed him one of your own nightmares, making him understand you would never judge Bucky for something that wasn’t his choice.

She never asked me once about the wrong I did.

Bucky didn’t wanted to feel something for you because he didn’t wanted to feel something for no one, he didn't even believed could feel something besides guilt but the safety he found in you was impossible to deny. That safety turned into trust and that trust into affection and then it turned into love. For the first time in seventy years of torture, pain and blood, he loved someone.

When my time comes around, lay me gently in the cold dark earth…

It wasn’t easy but nothing worthy ever was, you were his everything, his angel who filled his days with the sweetest love.

Bucky wrapped his arms around you and your belly, singing next to you.

“No grave can hold my body down, I’ll crawl home to her.” He whispered in your ear, the playfull attitude of your husband made you giggle.

“You are so charming, Mr. Barnes.” you said when he made you both swing with the music, his hands always so loving in the way he touched your skin.

“It’s my job, Mrs. Barnes.” Bucky answered with a smirk, your baby bump standing in your way when he made you face him to give you a soft kiss but neither of you would change a thing.

After everything you both lived, you were there together and you’ll never be alone again.

[astarionancuntnin]

Die For You (Chapter 9)

summary: your encounter with Sir Virric didn't go quite as planned, and now, you have to free yourself from his hold before its too late.

rating: E

word count: 6.7k

pairing: astarion x you (fem!reader, reader is tav)

cw: 18+. big angst hours, kidnapping, blood, noncon (rape, knife and blood play included there), graphic depiction of violence/torture, panic attack. full list on ao3

a/n: fair warning that this is a long and heavy chapter, and if you're uncomfortable with any of the CW please skip out on this one, i will add a brief overview of what happened in this chapter without the graphic descriptions at the beginning of the next chapter, but if all of this is gucci to you, please let me know what you think, as this was my first attempt at writing torture ~

a/n²: guess whaaaaaaaaat, yea theres yet another chapter before the epilogue, but its all happy from this point on dw

Last update next Friday!

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What will you do when she takes your throne?

Beg for her power or throw her a bone?

All that she has traded for love is yours

What will you do when she takes off her clothes?

Beg for her body or touch her soul?

When you're alone dreaming of her you sigh 

-

You wake up with a weird churning in your guts, and a throbbing headache. When you finally come back to your senses, you get to the awful realisation that you’re locked up somewhere you don’t recognize, chained up — again — and the wound at your waist stings like hell. Wherever you are, it isn’t the Crimson palace’s dungeons, that’s for sure. 

The place, you assume, is another dungeon located in a cave of sorts, or maybe the sewers — it's hard to tell, but you're underground certainly — as uneven rocks surround you. The air is damp but cold, and for this sole reason, you’re thankful for your new undead body. Had you been mortal, you would be freezing cold, but now, your surroundings matched the temperature within you. While uncomfortable, you certainly weren’t suffering because of it.

Your wrists are chained to the wall, and as you gulp, you sense the chain also attached to your neck. 

Really? My neck? Even Astarion didn’t go to these lengths when he kept me captive.

Wait. Astarion! That’s it!

You close your eyes to focus on initiating the connection through your bond, searching for his mind, and when you think you successfully reached him, you almost shout in your mind.

“Astarion! Can you hear me?”There’s a deafening silence that fills you with dread just before his voice echoes in your mind.

“By the Gods, where in the Hells are you?!” Finally hearing his voice again, you let go of a breath you didn’t realise you were holding in as you choke back a sob.

“I’m in a dungeon, I think? Or a cave, maybe, I’m not sure —  how long have I been gone?”

“A few hours. I sent Amedee after you when I sensed something wrong — rightfully so — she took care of Alstaer.” His words are spoken faster than you can process them before he jumps back to his previous question. “I need you to tell me everything about where you are — I swear it on my grave, I will find you, or I’ll burn the world down trying.”

In truth, you had not the slightest idea of where in the nine Hells you could be. The last thing you remember before passing out was Virric’s hands over you and his disgusting laughter. The thought alone made you want nothing more but to rip off his tongue with your bare hands and make him choke on it. Just as the thought crosses your mind, the door to your dungeon swings open with a loud screech, making you wince at the sound. Your connection to Astarion withers before you can give him any information, as your focus switches to the monster walking towards you, with a rolled up leather case.

“Good morning, Princess.” 

Speak of the devil.

“Fuck off.” Although not in your habits to swear, this man had a way to turn you vulgar with his mere presence; you had no patience for whatever he had planned and you wanted to be the farthest thing from polite with him.

He sets down the leather case on a nearby table before approaching you. “Now, that’s no way to talk to your betrothed. Did your parents not teach you manners?”

If your eyes could roll further back in your skull, they would. “Gods, what kind of curse has you constantly spouting about our engagement? It’s been five years, Virric, you act as if the world stopped turning when I left.” You sigh, looking away, as you mumble. “Plus, I doubt this contract is even valid anymore. Must’ve been void the second I vanished.”

He crosses his arms in his back, walking around your cell as he speaks, “You see, after your little escapade, my reputation — along with your family’s, mind you — were tainted. No other Lord or Duke of the court with a suitable daughter took a chance on me — a man who made his bride-to-be run away without even meeting her — you can imagine the scandal. I gave my word, not only to your parents, but to the court, that I would find you and bring you back to me.” 

You don’t comment on this, but you think that if he took five years to find you again — and without even recognizing you the first time — he mustn't have been doing that great of a job at searching for you. That, or you were just very good at hiding your tracks. Either way, you had outsmarted him, and you can’t help but feel proud about yourself.

He continues, “Once they see that I have accomplished not only this, but have you be obedient and respectful, submissive — as you will be — they will see that my convictions go beyond promises, that I act on my intentions. And when I bring forward the proof that Ancunín is nothing but a fraud, finally, I’ll earn their respect back. They will have no choice but to include me back into their inner circles.” He pauses his rambling, cocking his head to the side, fixating on your right hand. “I already made the arrangements, so you won’t even have to use that little head of yours.”

You turn your head to take a look at your hand to find a new golden ring with a clear crystal in the middle, now adorning your finger. You’re taken aback by its presence, the urge to rip it off burning in your chest, but you try to push the feeling aside, taunting him instead, “A random ring on my finger doesn’t mean anything, especially if I didn’t agree to it.”

He laughs humorlessly, “Oh dearest, you are simply adorable to think you have any say in the matter. I never needed your permission, you are mine by right. And as your first duty as my bride, I require you to tell me everything you’ve learned about this mysterious Lord Ancunín.” 

Bride. You frown at the mention of the word, which sounds twisted and bitter when it falls from his lips, as opposed to the way Astarion had made it sound so precious and beloved. You might be a bride, but not by his definition, and even less Virric's. 

“I’m not telling you shit,” you finally spit out.

“Oh, you will, eventually,” he pauses, suggestively as he approaches you, eyeing you up and down. “Willingly, or… by other means.”

Unimpressed, you scoff. “Holding me hostage won’t change my mind. This is hardly my first time.” He would have to be creative to get you to say anything; if you had survived the mind flayers and your breakup with Astarion, along with everything that happened following that, Virric should be a breeze to go through. 

He leans in closer, breathing down on you. “When I have my power, I will take the time needed to break and reshape every single part of your mind and body, until you are built perfectly in my image,” you notice the corner of his lips turning into a smile that suggests things you don’t even want to consider, the thought alone making you sick to your stomach. “You will bow before me, and you will do so willingly.” He leans back, taking his casual, disdainful look again. “But, until then, I think I may have a way to… encourage you to act reasonably, so to speak.”

He turns back around to the table where he had laid out his case to open it, displaying its contents. Before you, he unravels a collection of blades, ranging from razors to saws of different sizes. The sight of them along with his previous words is enough for panic to overcome you, a tightness in your chest rendering you breathless for a few seconds. 

“So,” he picks out a short razor-like blade from his set before he approaches you again. “Do you intend on sharing Lord Ancunín’s dirty secrets or am I going to have to pry them out of you?” He says, tapping the blade over your nose as he emphasises the word. 

“I don't know anything,” you fight yourself not to show the shakiness in your voice, and terribly fail at doing so.

“That's a shame, truly,” he says, his voice devoid of any emotion.

He lets the blade trail near your collarbone before slowly sliding it down to your chest, the deadly sharp tool slicing through the fabric of your dress down to your hips, as if it were air. You shriek at the gesture, partly glad it wasn't your skin he cut — yet — but also worried of where this was going to go, as you now stood exposed to him in your undergarments, with the ripped fabric of your dress hanging from your arms. 

“I'm gonna give you one more chance, princess. This could go very easily for you. I just need one dirty secret that can help me take down Ancunín while securing my place among the right people. I'm not asking for much! One, simple, yet meaningful secret, and all of this can stop.”

You fight through the fear in your chest, trying to paralyse you. Torture here or torture later wasn’t much of a choice. You would die before you let him win over you, before you would sell out Astarion. “I have nothing to tell you.”

He sighs dramatically, “Fine! If you don’t want to talk about him yet, maybe we can discuss of your little secrets.”

The knot in your chest finally relaxes, if but for a moment, “I thought you knew everything there was about me.”

He nods, “Everything from your family, your childhood — your past, mostly — yes, I do. But nothing in those papers mentioned you being anything remotely close to a monster.”

You scoff, “What could possibly make you think of me as a monster?” Your tone is unapologetically sarcastic. “Between the two of us, I would be tempted to say you’re the monster, Virric.”

In the blink of an eye, his knife is up to your throat, tipping your chin up by the tip, to meet his gaze. You hiss as the blade penetrates ever so slightly your skin underneath, the same way it did, that night in the gardens.

“Listen here, girl, you may think of this as a game, but in case you haven’t realised, there is no way for you to win. I can either make this quick, or so very, very slow.” He digs the blade deeper as he tilts it, cutting along the side of your jaw. The feeling of the knife piercing your skin left a burning sensation that had you writhe in pain as you tried to pull away from it. “Which one will it be, doll?”

And just like it left, the knot in your chest was back. The terror paralyzed you, as you succumbed to the feeling of powerlessness, and visions of the worst outcomes manifested themselves in your mind. 

You were going to die here.

Met with your lack of answer, Virric continues. “If this is how you wish it to be.”

The blade leaves your jaw to drop to your hips, where he slides between the fabric of your panties and your skin, before swiftly pulling down and away, slicing the fabric in two, and nicking your skin in the process. Whether it was voluntarily or not didn’t matter, he rejoiced in your pain nonetheless. You hiss at the faint burning sensation of the blade and twist over yourself, trying to hide what the fabric used to conceal.

“If a beast you are, then a beast I shall tame.”

His knife travels up to your belly, as he continues to dig deeper into your skin and you wince at the pain; you’ve experienced worse injuries in your battles, but  somehow, Virric’s blade cut deeper into you than any arrow you might’ve received. This was personal, bigger than a misunderstanding, or than a lost arrow on the battlefield. Your very existence, your fate, hung in the balance, and now that you were undead — even if unbeknownst to him —  he had the power to drag out this torture forever.

The sharp dagger makes its way up, bleeding you out in the process, and stops right before your bra, hovering over the simple fabric that held your breast together; the last thing covering what left you had of decency.

“Do you have something to tell me now?”

Weighing your words, and between deep breaths, you growl. “Fuck. You. Virric.”

The smile that reaches his cheeks is nothing short of evil. “I was hoping you would say that.” 

In one swift flick of his wrist, the blade cuts through the lace of your bra, grazing the skin between your breasts as they get released, and a whimper escapes you before you can stop it. He pulls back if only for a moment to marvel at the sight of your pale skin.

“Ah,” he sighs. “A blank canvas. Perfect. I've been wanting an excuse to use my toys.” As he draws over your chest with his dagger, marking your skin with new scars, you fight through the tears swirling around your eyes and the whimpers getting stuck in your throat; you don’t want to give him the satisfaction of watching you break so soon, but the temptation to give in was becoming too heavy to ignore it. Met with your defiant, yet watery glare, Virric only chuckled.

“I can drag this on all night long.”

—

And so, the night went on. Your clothes were entirely discarded, completely cut to ribbons, as he continued to experiment on your body with different blades, branding you, touching you in places he hadn’t had the chance to before, that night at the ball, and doing more atrocities you wished you could forget. Your cries only encouraged him — as much as you tried to conceal them — and he even went on to comment on the fact that they were “a melody he couldn’t believe he had missed out on all these years”. 

You passed out from the pain at one point, and when you finally came to your senses, you were not sure how long had passed. Virric, at least, was nowhere to be seen. Surely, there was no point torturing you if you were unconscious, and he left you alone once he didn’t have any reaction out of you. After all, he needed you alive — if he was going to kill you, it wasn't going to be this soon, and it wasn’t going to be this quick, he made sure of that.

You took the opportunity of his absence to try and reach out to Astarion, hoping his mind would be open to you.

“Astarion? Astarion, please tell me you’re there…”

Your connection was feeble, weakened by your injuries and threatening to break at any moment, but just before despair claimed you, his voice echoed in your mind.

“Oh Gods, Darling, finally— please, tell me exactly what is happening, I can’t have you vanish on me again without knowing what is causing this pain.” His voice was controlled but you sensed the desperation underneath.

“I’m— Wha— What pain?”

“The cuts, the burns — I feel everything.” Then, you heard it in his voice, in the way it was shaking. The anxiety, the anguish… the guilt.

You stayed silent, for what felt like forever as you processed the information, “...How?”

“Our bond goes beyond our minds. Our bodies and souls were intertwined when I made you my bride. Your pain is my pain, as much as mine is yours.”

When you were stabbed in your fight, he must’ve felt it. When you kept your mind closed to him, he must’ve instantly known something was wrong and tried to reach out, only to be met with silence. When you passed out from the poison, you couldn’t reach out to him, because he must’ve been affected, too.

“I didn’t realize—”

All the torture you went through, he had to go through it, too. It didn’t matter that he had killed Cazador, or that he was the most powerful vampire in all the realms. Because of his connection to you, he was back in those dungeons, getting tortured.

All over again.

You’re unable to silence the cries that followed, your voice trembling in your mind, “Astarion— I’m so sorry—” 

“You have nothing to be sorry for, my love. I knew the weight of this decision when I made it, when I proposed it to you, and I will bear it with you by my side, until the end of our days.” 

There was a pause, as if he was debating with himself, as if what he was about to say weighed heavier on him than he let on. “If anything, I should be sorry for keeping this information from you. I trusted you enough to defend yourself, to take on this fight. I should have trusted you further with our bond, but I was… selfish.” 

There is a small silence, the heavy weight of guilt flowing through this bond that united you, before he continued, his voice now assertive. “I won’t make the same mistake again. Virric hasn’t been seen since the soiree; wherever you are is well hidden. Now, I need you to guide me, to know where you are. Give me any information, anything at all.”

But where could you even start? So much had happened in such a short period, and yet, Virric hadn’t given you more clues as to where you could be kept.

Anything at all, he said. Just tell him everything you can. 

“I'm chained up — my wrists, my neck — I can't fight him. There's no one else here, I— don't even know how long has passed, there’s no one else but him here, and it's so damp, and cold, and—” You pause, as you feel the panic rise to your chest. “He… he has these tools — these blades… he calls them ‘his toys’... Astarion— He’s gonna keep going until I break and reveal a secret about you, he wants to take your place and… And then he’ll keep going until I cave in and marry him. Astarion, I can’t—” Your burst into tears, unable to finish your sentence.

“I”m going to fucking kill him,” his anger reverberated in your mind like an impending heartquake, before calming down, but his voice kept its devotion. “My love, I swear on my life, I will find you. Be strong, I know you have it in you. You are stronger than anyone I know. Keep fighting. You can fight him.”

Your connection faltered, and you were met with a lonely silence once again.

That night, you cried until sleep claimed you.

—

Another day of torture went by. Some of your smallest and oldest cuts had already partially healed through the night — not that it was discernible under the newest cuts he made, not that you wanted to look at them, either — as the sight of your body in cuts only made you more desperate. You had glanced over them once and it had broken your spirit; it only made you live those moments over and over again. When Virric finally graced you with a moment of respite, supposedly bored of you for the moment, you spent your time trying to rest, and gain back your energy. You tried to come up with a plan at first, but nothing came to mind; he kept his tools out of reach; there were no guards to subdue; there were no windows to look out of, and no additional information as to where you were kept. Just this same underground cell, with this same damp air, and those same rock walls.

In the worst moments, when he took advantage of you the way he had wished back in the gardens, you wished you were dead instead. Your fear turned into anger at first, when you still had it in you to fight back, until it turned into despair, as his lingering touch violated your body through your pleas. He didn't care for your utter disgust — if anything, it only seemed to entice him more. He became more daring, and when he got tired of playing with you, he forced himself onto you. 

His knife found its way just under your breast, where he skillfully cut around it before roughly squeezing your breast, forcing the blood out of you. You cringed in pain and he only let go once your blood was practically flooding down your belly, mixing with the remains of old blood from his previous operations along with your older cuts. When you finally opened your eyes again, he had removed his trousers, his cock out and hard, and no word came out of you. You refused to believe this was going to happen, a part of you still hoped that Astarion was going to burst the gates to your cell open and save you from this fate, that something, anything, was going to stop him, that it was just a twisted joke and he would draw back. 

But he didn’t. This was Virric, the psychopath who relished in torturing you to no end, cutting you up and leaving you to bathe in your own blood. He couldn’t just rape you, he had to do it his way. 

He cupped a portion of the blood that had leaked from your chest to smear it over his dick, pumping himself a few times before he lifted your legs, to position yourself at your entrance, and it didn’t matter that you kicked and trashed against him, he had you pinned to the wall and impaled on his cock the moments that followed. It felt as if he tore through you, the pain of each of his thrusts rippling through your legs. He kept at it, panting in the crook of your neck, his breath damp and hot until he came, emptying himself inside of you. His moans in your ear — too close, too loud — as he smiled with satisfaction at your tears, before sliding out of you, leaving you with the remains of his climax.

Then, you felt yourself break. For the first time, you considered death, as it felt like the only mercy that would free you from this torment. Long gone was the sassy fighter who enjoyed bantering, even with her worst enemies. The light within you — your will to fight — was fading; your very soul, the remaining part of you that made you human, was a few cuts and touches away from vanishing like your pulse. 

When Virric enters your cell the next day — or night, for all you knew — you don't even lift your head to defy him.

“No insults today? And here I thought I would be able to drag this out for another tenday before you broke under my thumb.”

Another? No, it couldn’t have been that long, you couldn't have been out for more than three days, could you? A tenday is impossible— No, Astarion would’ve found you by then, he would’ve—

“You’ll never understand how glad I was to have finally found you back,” he sighs. “I’ve been thinking about all the things I have wanted to do to you since you slipped my grasp five years ago. We have a lot of catching up to do.”

You don’t notice him making his way towards you, and picking up his favourite knife — you guessed, as it was the one he used the most — a dull one that made you scream for the first time when he cut through the inside of your thigh; he had used your bloody thighs to relieve himself that day. Your legs were still sticky from the resulting outcome. 

You only realise how close he has gotten when you feel the tip of his dagger flick over your nipple hardened by the cold air. You hiss when his hand touches your waist where he stabbed you, the night of the soiree. “It’s disappointing, if not impressive, that your wound is almost healed already. I was looking forward to playing with a new hole.” 

You wince, turning your head away and gulping hard as the disgust threatened to come up to your throat when he let his hands roam freely over your form, until something clicks in your mind from what he said.

You were almost healed already. 

You blame it on this identity still being relatively new to you, on top of the exhaustion from the torture, for not realising it sooner, but with more blood, you could heal completely. You might just break free with the rush of strength it would give you. 

Thinking quickly, you establish what you’re going to do; you would just need him to get even closer than he was, as awful as it sounded, to be able to bite him. With the shackle around your neck, you would need to be almost face to face — or rather, face to neck — with him for this to work. You would only have one chance at this, and you wouldn’t have more time if Virric found out about your vampiric nature — something you had managed to keep secret, as he seemed to have believed you when you justified your feral attack on Alstaer on your feminine nature; long nails were just your birth right and in the heat of the moment, you didn’t know better than to slash his face instead of using your sword. “Silly, silly woman.” He ate it all up.

But if you were to do this, there would be no room for error. If he found out you were a vampire, he would instantly track it down to Astarion, and they would go on a monster hunt against him and his spawn. Worse, even, he would linger on the torture if he had confirmation that you would never die from it. He would keep you balancing between life and death, forever; breaking your spirit, what was left of your humanity. You need to get him to believe he has won this fight. 

You need to submit.

When his knife slides between your thighs, you initiate your plan.

“Please! Please, stop,” You shout with what you have left in your voice, before letting your head fall, feigning to give up, “I… I’ll tell you what you want, but please, I beg you; mercy.” you plead, your voice small and broken as you push another sob. The constant screaming had roughed up your throat, making your voice almost unrecognisable when you spoke for the first time in days.

His knife finally stops its ministrations when he steps back to look at you. “Did my pet have a change of heart?”

Pet. This name hurt more than the others. 

“I can’t… can’t take it anymore… Virric, please” you pant, without looking up to him, as tears stream down your face. As much as this was part of your façade, the words weighed heavy and true — if this didn’t work, you would take your own life at the first chance you got.

He takes your chin between his thumb and finger, forcefully tilting your eyes up. As you slouch over the wall now, you stay much smaller than him. “First of all, you are to refer to me as Master from now on. Am I clear?”

Another angry tear silently falls from your eye, “Yes.”

You barely register how fast he moves when the back of his hand collides with your cheek brutally, “Wrong answer.”

“Y-yes, Master.” The only thing stopping the bile from coming up your throat at this point was the lack of contents in your stomach.

“Good. There is still hope yet for you.”

You take a few shaky breaths before speaking up, “I just… I need to know… What will happen after I tell you… his secret?”

“Exactly what I said would happen: he will be stripped of his title — not that he ever deserved it — and I will receive it in his stead, along with all his assets, which will attribute to me the respect of the high society.” He speaks as if it was already a done deal, as if this was only moments away from being his reality.

“And… me? What are you going to do with me?” You say, your voice merely a whisper by now, as you force out another tear to aggravate your desperation.

“Depends. Obviously you will be mine once more, back where you belong. Perhaps, serving me on your knees, obedient and silent, as any ideal wife should be. That is, of course, if you are a good little puppet, and you follow every and each of my orders. I might even reward you if you are especially complacent. Otherwise,” he eyes down the knife in his grip, dangerously threading down to your navel, making you groan in pain as he cuts you further. “I will have to keep you locked up, and punish you until you learn your lesson. I do not appreciate insubordination.” He lifts your chin up with his other hand, taking in your distress like an aphrodisiac. “I think I’ll keep the collar on you though, it suits you quite well.”

You force your eyes shut once more as you sob, not from the continued pain from his torture — not anymore — but from the mere idea that this was almost your life. This could still be it, but had you not impulsively ran away from your home back then… gods, you don’t even want to think about it, this was torture enough. You thank all the gods that you are an only child, as you don't think you would’ve been able to live with yourself if you had abandoned a sister to this life by running away yourself.

When you feel his blade between your legs, you realise you’re out of time.

“Stop— stop!” you say, your voice cracking, as it comes out between cries. “I’ll tell you what you want.”

You miss the smile of satisfaction on his face, one that you would be too happy to tear off, as he sets down the knife at his table. “I knew you would see reason, princess. Don’t be shy now, tell me everything I want to know, and I’ll make sure to reward you appropriately. We might even pay your parents a little visit! Show them the progress we’ve made with you.”

If you had to see your parents again, especially your father who had sold you off as if you were nothing but cattle, you don’t think you would have the force to restrain yourself from killing them, too.

“I… just… need…” you mumble, your speech barely audible as you feign exhaustion, panting after each word.

“Speak up, girl. I won’t repeat myself.”

It takes everything you have left in you not to spit at him. “Come… closer…” you whisper to draw him where you need him to be, and the fool obliges you, too blind on his power trip to second guess your intentions as he turns his ear to you, finally exposing his neck to you.

“He’s… he’s a…”

You wait for the right moment, when his neck is just under your chin, to finally bolt up on your legs and dive your head down, plunging your fangs deep into his skin. Your teeth manage to keep him still long enough for you to take three great gulps of his rich blood, which seems to burn as it goes down your throat. He shoves himself away from you, stumbling back to the table with his knives, and brings his hand up to cover the wound in his neck. 

His blood gives you the results you hoped for; your open wounds heal in the blink of an eye, your will to fight springs back to life, and with your renewed strength, you easily tear off your bindings from the wall behind you, before ripping off the one at your neck, finally setting yourself free.

One look at him in his pitiful state awakens something within you, a hunger — for blood, yes — but a blood bath. You can now hear how fast his heart is beating against his ribcage, terrorised at your sight. 

“A vampire?!” he screams, incredulous, as his voice trembles.

You give him a toothy grin, frowning through the tears in your eyes and the blood on your lips, proudly displaying your hidden fangs. “You took the words right out of my mouth.”

Before he can reach for his arsenal, you whip up the chain linked to your shackled arm to strike his right arm down. The blood loss affecting him messes up with his reflexes, and he receives your hits without a chance of dodging them. He screams when the chains make contact with his arm, and then you finally understand what he meant about your own screams; his pain elicited something extremely satisfying within you, and you wanted more.

As he tries to reach for another blade with his left arm, you repeat the same move, swinging the chain in your hand towards his legs, making him trip, and knocking away the table and his arsenal in the process. When he sees you pick up daggers from his collection, he crawls backwards in panic until he hits the locked door of your cell. He doesn’t even bother to cover his neck which is still profusely bleeding from your feeding, as his eyes look you up and down in a fright that suited him far better than the arrogance he wore before. 

Breathless, he asks, “Ancunín is a bloody vampire?!”

You approach him like a predator would their prey, with a glint in your eyes as you inspect the knife you hold, “Honestly Virric, I can't believe it took you that long to figure it out. The man is a high Elf — you of all people should know there are no high elves with red eyes, come on now.”

“There was word that he was a drow—”

“A drow? With his complexion?” You scoff, crouching to his level. “Maybe you really are as stupid as he painted you out to be.”

“How dare you—” He snarls, as he tries to get to his feet, but you stop him before he can get anywhere, as you plunge the knife in his thigh and twist through the muscles. He cries out, so loud it echoes through the tunnels of his hideout, and you rip out the knife from his leg before you get up to take a look at the state of him.

“You know,” you say, void of any emotions, “I would tell you to send my regards to my parents, but I don’t intend on letting you live long enough to get there.”

As you wind up your next hit, he lifts his arm in protection, yelling to wait. You halt in your tracks, simply by curiosity of what he would say in his moments of desperation, and lower the knife, waiting to see what bullshit he would spit out.

“Think about it,” he pants. “People are going to ask around. You wouldn’t risk going to prison over killing me, would you?” He smiles as he lowers his arm to gauge your reaction, but for the first time, his smile was out of desperation. It’s uneven, shaky, uncertain; he’s terrified of you.

“Beg.”

“W– What?”

“You want me to spare you? Beg for it.”

He remains quiet, blinking anxiously at the sight of the vampire bride that held his life between his hands, and with a shaky voice, he breathes, “I’m— I’m not—.”

You lunge, holding the bloodied knife against his throat just as he had done to you so many times before, pushing against the soft spot between his neck and under-chin, “Speak up, pet.”

He sneers, refusing to comply and you push the knife deeper into his throat, “Unless this precious life of yours isn’t really worth anything?”

“P– Please!” He finally snaps when the knife cuts through the soft skin of his neck, choking on his words. “I— I’m sorry! I’ll disappear, I'll leave Baldur's Gate, you’ll never hear of me again, please! I- I beg you, spare me!”

Under your hand, Virric shakes. Not only his voice, but his whole body; you dare to think that you’re shaking his spirit, too. And all of this only in the span of a few minutes, yet again beating Virric at his own game. You drink in his terror, and decide to play some more. “Gods, you sound pathetic.”

You pull away, straightening up, “I don’t think you’re worth my mercy, Virric.” You eye the knife in your grasp, inspecting it as you keep talking, “What was it that you said that night at the ball? You wouldn’t want people to see you like this, now would you?” You shoot him a deadly glare, before grabbing another knife that was discarded earlier, and as you walk towards him, he lifts his remaining working arm in an attempt to try and stop you, “Wait! How will you explain my disappearance?”

You smile faintly, your words are devoid of emotion, empty, yet, threatening. “I’ll find something.” You step closer, the dagger burning in the palm of your hand for retaliation going straight into his other leg. After his screams settle back down, you crouch and lean closer to say, “After all, no one would have respected you if they knew you were bested by the very woman you swore to force into submission.” 

You lean into his ear, whispering. “I’ll make sure everyone knows.”

Before he can say anything to stop you once more, your knife is deep in his guts, once, then twice, then more times than you can count. You finally pull away, watching as his life leaves his eyes, drinking in the horror of his last moments alive.

As his body goes limp, falling to the side, you step back, dropping the blade from your hand before falling to your knees, the adrenaline that pushed you through this encounter leaving you all at once. Your breathing accelerates without you being able to control it, seemingly forgetting it wasn’t a vital necessity to you anymore, and you physically feel your heart tightening in your chest. You try to compose yourself, try to tell yourself you’re fine, but a wave of raw emotions hits you all at once and tears flood your vision. 

This man would never hurt you again, and your bleeding wounds had healed, but you had to drink his blood for this to happen. His blood, in your body, just like he had been without your consent, for days. Your skin itches at the thought of feeling his blood course through your veins and you want to rip off your skin, leave this body for a new one, remove the stains from his abuse, scratch away his touches — no more, no more, no more.

In the distance, you hear frantic footsteps and you lift your eyes towards the sound — guards. That must be them, posted further away, just in case Virric had the need for them, and they were coming for you. Quickly, you grab back the longest dagger among Virric's tools, and get back on your feet, preparing yourself to attack the first guard — no, not a guard.

Astarion.

Your body refuses to move, frozen in place by some magic, refusing to see him there, standing before your cell — he had come for you after all — and the moment after he rips away the door to your cell, you are in his arms. Still frozen, still unbelieving. 

“Oh darling… My sweet love… I finally found you. It's me. I'm here.” He pulls back, his hands reaching to cup your face between them. “I'm here. It’s over.” 

“He… He’s…” You wanted to try to explain, but there was never the need to, not with Astarion, not when he had felt every cut and bruise and touch Virric had imposed on you.

“I know, my love. I know.” In the second that followed, you dropped your weapon and the one after, you cried, and cried, until your cries turned into screams, unable to keep the emotions bottled up anymore. Your voice is guttural, broken between sobs, depicting just how broken you were inside.

He pulled back from you to surround you with his jacket, warm from him wearing it, and protecting your body from any unwanted eyes, before picking you up in his arms.

“Let's go home.”

You walked away without a second look at Virric's butchered remains.

-

The gods have made us a virgin hunter

Who in the storm becomes stillness

I always wondered why they all came back for more

Came back for more

Thank you for reading! Comments, reblogs, and likes are very much appreciated <3

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[sarahs-secrets2]

She's got a boyfriend anyway... (Phillip Graves x Reader) 18+ ࿐♡ ˚.*ೃ

Hiii this is my first ever fic/drabble on Tumblr! Once upon a time, I wrote a social media tom holland fic on Wattpad (its so bad I swear), but the Phillip Graves brain rot is so strong (you've prob seen me in a TikTok comment section thirsting), and this idea I've had has been consuming me so I decided to finally write it! Any feedback is appreciated <3

Loosely based on t1975 song Sex!

gn! with mentions of a boyfriend throughout story (no use of Y/N)

Word Count: 1.9k

Warnings: swearing, SEXUAL TENSION, cheating, light nsfw, pet names

₊°✧︡ ˗ ˏ ˋ ♡ ˎˊ ˗

“Yeah it's been alright here so far, ready to go home though,” you spoke into the phone with your back leaned up on the dresser in your room at the Shadow’s base which was basically in the middle of nowhere, you couldn’t remember the name and the jet lag wasn't helping.

As the voice on the phone droned on, you instinctively started to pace around the room, now reaching for a frame of you and your boyfriend, who happened to be the voice that just sounded muffled to you now as you examined the picture like it was the first time you had seen it. The photo was taken about a year ago, it was a cute selfie from some date after dinner, a half-assed smile snuck onto your face as you recalled the memory. The framed photo was a going away gift from your boyfriend as you were whisked away on another secret Shadow’s mission. 

“You still there?”, his voice cut through your thoughts, setting down the photo and leaning back onto the dresser resuming your previous position. “Yup, just tired as hell,” you felt bad for not being able to uphold a conversation but it was hard being in different time zones, he couldn't blame you for that, could he?

Trying to bring your focus back onto the conversation, a knock on the half-cracked door made you jump as you peered over to see who it was. 

Phillip Graves, your commander. 

The Shadow Company, after being with them for 4 years, at that point had become your second family. Working your way up through the ranks you slowly became Graves' second in command. Between the two of you, there were always some unspoken feelings, but they needed to stay that way. You had a boyfriend, a boyfriend of 3 years, a boyfriend who you loved. At least that's what Graves had to tell himself so he wouldn't continue to obsess over the idea of being with you, in really any capacity. You had always inadvertently flirted with Phillip, it was just your nature, and he was easy on the eyes. “Me or him”, Phillip always asked, part jokingly, part serious, which he would never admit. He didn't have to specify you knew what he meant. “I can’t answer that Graves and you know it,”. It’s what you said every time. 

Graves waved at you from the doorway, he had taken the pleasure of swinging the once-cracked door, all the way open. He had a tendency for ignoring signs of privacy. Still, on the phone you lifted your index finger up, signaling for him to wait, you were about done with your boyfriend anyways. 

“Yeah, love you too, talk soon”, clicking the phone off, and standing up off the dresser you walked over to greet the commander now in your room. You hated that you were looking forward to talking to Graves more than your boyfriend. 

“Was that the old ball and chain?”Graves knew how to piss you off. “Seems you're jealous you don’t have someone to have phone sex with, Commander” winking back at him, you were in a mood tonight. Graves' face winced like he had been injured, playing into your quip. “Sweetheart, I don’t need phone sex, I can get some here whenever I want,” taking steps towards you, instinctively you walked backward trying to avoid him getting closer. The way he spoke with his southern drawl made your face hot if you could stop it you would. You weren't supposed to feel like this towards another man. 

“How is he?” 

You knew Graves didn't care, he wanted you to think he cared. “He’s fine, all the same back home”.

“You miss him?” 

This one took you by surprise, because honestly you didn't, and you were a shit girlfriend for it, maybe it was the job that distracted you, maybe the lack of sleep, or maybe the handsome commander standing in front of you that made you forget about your “old ball and chain” back home. 

“Distance makes the heart grow fonder darling, at least that's what mama always tol’ me”, you had noticed his accent got stronger when talking about home, something about a southern boy and his mom. The disapproving look you gave Phillip hinted he probably shouldn't push, some internal battle he shouldn't prod at. 

“What made you come in here in the first place, Graves? Just to see how my boyfriend is, I know how fond of him you are”, Graves scoffed, “I don't even remember anymore,” his hands went up in defeat, “I’ll see you tomorrow yeah”, a soft smile crept along his face and he started to turn out of your room. 

“Wait, Phillip!” trying to grab his attention before he disappeared down the barrack hallways, “Do you have a spare shirt, the rookies messed up laundry so I haven't been able to do anything yet and I need something to sleep in ''. This shouldn't have been an awkward question, you both were comfortable enough with sharing clothes and it wasn't new for either of you to help out the other. This time felt wrong though, you felt shy and almost dirty asking your commander for a shirt to sleep in, was it too intimate?

“Follow me, you can pick out your favorite”, he held your door open signaling you to lead the way to his room. The air felt different, something was different between the two of you, you just couldn't put your finger on it. By the time you reached his room, a pit formed in your stomach, playing it off as you leaned next to the door waiting for Phillip to unlock it. 

“Top drawer on the right, pick a comfy one”, Graves relished in the idea of you wearing his shirt. He felt like he had won this unspoken battle between him and your boyfriend, he didn't bother to ever learn his name, it wasn't important. 

Rifling through the drawers you found a worn gray cotton polo undershirt, holding it up in the mirror, it looked perfectly oversized. “I think I found a winner,” you turned to face him still holding it up, “What do you think?”

“I think you took my favorite one”, Graves' hands went to his heart like he was in pain, a fake frown painted his face, making you laugh. “Go ahead and try it on sweetheart, make sure it fits the way you like before you head back,”

“No peeking Graves” you walked towards the bed with your back to Phillip, stripping off your previous top, and slipping the new gray one on. Turning to face Graves, who was now leaning on top of his desk in the corner of the room. 

“C’mere, let me see how it looks' ', you could feel his eyes on you as you walked towards him, immediately feeling shy, you shouldn't be feeling like this.

You have a boyfriend at home 

Maybe if you kept telling yourself this, the butterflies in your stomach from Phillip would go away. 

His hand outstretched to you as you reached him, still leaning on the desk, he raised your hand above your head, “Let's see it, darling,” as he slowly spun you around to take in a full view. You could feel your heart rate rising, something was different tonight, the causal flirting all of a sudden held so much more weight between the two of you. “Looks better on you than me, I’ll tell you that”, Phillip was chuckling to himself as he took both of your hands in his, pulling you in between his legs. 

“What are we doing here Phillip?” 

“Whatever you want to do '', he said it so matter of fact it almost made you sick, was this cheating? You felt dizzy, bringing your hands to your commander's shoulders to balance yourself, his hands went to your waist as he pulled you closer. 

Your hands slowly made their way up to his face, almost as if they had a mind of their own. Graves could feel your internal battle as you took in every detail on his face, a finger tracing his scar while he watched you. 

“Look we don't-”, you didn’t give him a chance to finish the sentence as you pulled him into you, pressing your lips to his. Both of you acting like it was your last kiss on Earth, feverishly pulling at each other for more. Graves stood up from his previous leaning on the desk, still connected to your lips, directing you towards the bed.

Fisting at Graves' shirt as you pulled his top off, and slipped the one you had borrowed a mere minutes ago off as well to match his current clothing situation. He towered over you in the bed, connecting to your neck, which was definitely going to leave a mark in the morning. Your hands found their way to Phillip’s hair as he continued to mark you as his, even though you weren't. 

The guilt set in as you realized what was happening. You were a cheater, it made your stomach hurt thinking about it. Phillip sensed a shift.

“What's wrong, doll?”

“I have a boyfriend, I shouldn't be doing this' ', you said barely above a whisper, sitting up and looking around to make sure this wasn't a dream. “Hey, hey, it's alright, we don't have to do anything,” Phillip gave you a sincere smile, it only made you feel better for a second. 

The worst part was you wanted him, but couldn't. 

“You got a boyfriend anyway… I shouldn't have pushed it '', Graves was now sitting off the edge of the bed, putting his discarded shirt back on. “Don’t blame yourself, I wanted it just as bad”, punching his shoulder lightly hoping to lighten the mood. A small smile was thrown your way in return. 

Graves stood up from the bed, bending down to grab the borrowed shirt and tossed it over to you. “Fix that boyfriend problem, and maybe our guilty consciousness won't stop us next time, how about that?”, he was leaving the door open for you, he was willing to wait. “Yeah I should probably end it, I feel like shit”, the borrowed shirt now back on as you sat on the edge of the bed where Phillip once was.

“Can I stay here tonight, I don't want to be alone,” glancing up at him, hoping he would say yes, it would be too embarrassing if he said no, especially at this point. “Of course sweetheart, whatever you want to do”, his hand snaked around the back of your head and pulled you towards him, placing a small kiss on the top of your forehead. “I'll go get you an extra blanket,”

Graves came back motioning you to lie down as he covered you in the blanket he had found and then slipped into the bed next to you. “Thank you, Phillip, I really appreciate it,” you were now facing him in the bed. His hand moved to brush some hair out of your face, “Anytime, get some rest I take it you got some things to take care of tomorrow”. 

₊°✧︡ ˗ ˏ ˋ ♡ ˎˊ ˗

Part 2!

Thank you for reading! There's def room for a part 2 if anyone wants it!

[haihaihaitani]

Cheers to the Jukebox Queen! ~ *Ran Haitani*

Summary: You love the little dive bar you found after work one day. You're always spending time with the regulars and enjoying the atmosphere. That is, until it's disrupted by a stranger...

Pairing: Ran Haitani X Fem!Reader

Genre: Fluffyish Oneshot

Word Count: 2224

Warning: Alcohol consumption, swearing

Masterlist

It was your favorite place to go when you needed to get away and relax. The little hole-in-the-wall dive bar had everything you needed: excellent drinks, good food, charming regulars, and a chill vibe. It was everything you needed after a stressful day at work.

Especially on a day like today.

It was pouring, soaking anyone who went outside to the bone, even if you had an umbrella. You also just put in two hours of overtime at your job and were exhausted. That's why as you were leaving the office, you could hear the sound of a cool drink and some old music calling your name from across town. You braved the storm to get to your favorite dive bar and order your favorite drink to make you feel better.

"Aren't you a sight for sore eyes?" The crotchety old bartender chuckled as he saw you. "The usual?"

"Double it. I need something strong tonight." You sighed, slouching against the bar.

"Another long day?"

You nod, shaking your wet hair. "Always. They work you to the bone for pennies, I'm telling you."

"That's why I keep asking you to quit that dead-end, early-grave job and come work for me. Sure, you'll still be making pennies, but you won't be worked to the bone. And everyone here likes you." He explained, as he passed you your drink.

You glanced back at him and shook your head. You took a sip of your drink, enjoying the subtle sting of alcohol in the back of your throat. "Nah, I still need to pay my dues. The contract expires in three years. Then maybe, maybe I'll consider quitting my day job to come work for you."

He chuckled. "That's all I'm asking; just some consideration. And quit swinging your hair around like a wet dog! You're getting my clean bar all dirty!"

"When has this bar ever been clean?"

He threw an ice cube at you, which you expertly dodged. A laugh spilled past your lips and you took another sip of your drink. The night settled after that. You chatted with some of the regulars, talking about their day and their latest gripe of the night. All of them commiserate over your struggles at work and how you never seemed to have time for yourself. Despite all of the crap the day threw at you, you could always count on your evenings and nights to be much sweeter. This is what made working like a dog all worth it; being able to spend some good quality time with people you actually liked.

"You know, you really ought to stop hanging out with us old timers so much." One of the regulars sighed and downed the dregs of his beer.

The woman next to him nodded. "You need to go to one of those swanky clubs and grind up against someone to take home."

You grimaced at the thought. "Clubbing isn't my style. I like it here! It's super chill and everyone is so nice! Why would I give that up?"

"A pretty young thing like yourself needs to find herself some hunky arm candy." The woman laughed.

You laughed and shook your head. "The dating scene isn't for me. All the guys are whiney babies who want a mother, not a significant other."

The man grunts in response. "You got that right. You kids don't want to work for a relationship anymore."

The woman scoffed and playfully shoved him. "Like you put any work with me when we were dating!"

"And yet you still married me!"

As the rest of the bar laughed, the door opened with a bang. You jumped, spilling a little of your drink on the bar counter. There, soaked to the skin, was a man dressed in purple to match his hair. He was tall, lithe, and carried himself with such authority it looked as if he was disgusted the rain even dared to fall on him. But what struck you about him was the tattoo prominently displayed on his throat. 

Bonten. He was trouble.

Everyone seemed to sober up in that exact second. No one looked at him, finding other things far more interesting to occupy themselves. It wasn't until the bartender cleared his throat hesitantly that he was actually acknowledged.

"What can I do for you?"

"I need to borrow your phone. Mine died."

His voice was smooth and cold. It sent a shiver down your spine. You looked down at your drink as he took the phone from the bartender, leaning against the bar next to you. Though you tried really hard not to, you couldn't help but listen to his conversation.

"The car's dead. No, I didn't wreck it. Probably the battery. Just get someone down here to fix it. I'm not staying here all night. Be here in an hour or I'll tell the boss you kept me waiting."

Your heart stuttered in your chest. You didn't know who his boss was but you really hoped you wouldn't find out. A part of you wished he never walked into this bar and killed the whole vibe.

"Do you have a bathroom?" He asked the bartender, who pointed to the back.

As he left, you let out a shaky breath. The regular who was talking to you earlier shook his head. "That was terrifying."

"Shh! He could hear you!" His wife smacked his shoulder.

"Why is a Bonten executive hanging around this part of town?" The bartender mumbled under his breath, wringing his hands.

"You know him?" You ask and he winced at your words.

"Before I moved the bar here, I had a run in with their boss. He's terrifying to put it mildly, worse than that one. He let me off with my life but took everything else from me. I'm lucky to have escaped and I vowed I would never get tangled up with them again. Now they're back and I don't think I can go through all of that a second time."

The bar fell silent once more, heavy with the weight of the bartender's words. It made your stomach roll. But you weren't going to let some gang executive ruin your night. You couldn't. This place was your sanctuary. You couldn't let anyone take that from you.

Looking for a distraction, you found the perfect thing. Grabbing a quarter from your wallet, you walked over to the jukebox and punched in the correct code. Instantly, the bar was jamming to one of their favorite classic rock songs. The heavy mood lifted and you found yourself smiling once more. It was good to have the night back on track.

Everyone was too lost in their good mood to even notice the Bonten executive return from the bathroom, in a new, dry suit. You were bopping along to the music, watching some of the regulars dance in between tables, trying not to spill their drinks too much.

"What's all this?" His voice coming from behind you made you jump again. 

"Ah..." You replied, your words getting stuck in your throat. "Sometimes, we like to turn on the jukebox for some dancing. It's a normal occurrence here."

He nodded. "I'm assuming it only plays songs from back in the day."

You give a small shrug. "Yeah, but it's nice. Reminds a lot of these people of the good old days."

If you weren't paying attention, you would've missed how his eyes widened a fraction. "The good old days..."

The wistfulness in his voice that you were sure wasn't supposed to be there made your heart skip a beat. Despite your better judgment, you drank the last of your drink and held out your hand to him. "What do you say?"

He stared at you. "What? Are you asking me to dance?"

"Why not? You're waiting for your ride, right? Why not wait with some dancing?"

He continued to stare at you for a moment longer before taking your hand. His grip was strong and his skin was smooth, save for some callouses you were sure came from handling weapons. Still, you didn't want to think about that right now. You were trying to lighten the mood and you would not be frightened by this mysterious, yet powerful man whose hand you were now holding.

He was stiff at first on the dance floor, as if he had never danced to this kind of music before. You weren't surprised. He seemed like the kind of guy who would frequent the swanky clubs the regulars were teasing you about earlier. Still, with a bright smile and some good moves of your own, you got him to loosen up on you. He even flashed you a small smile which made yours grow.

"You're pretty light on your feet." You tell him over the music.

He shook his head with a smirk. "You're not so bad yourself. What's your name."

When you tell him, you nudge him playfully. "Are you going to tell me yours?"

"Just call me Ran."

You didn't need him to tell you his last name, because you already knew it. Anyone who's anyone knew the only Ran in Bonten was Ran Haitani. He was powerful and dangerous, and you were currently dancing with him in a dive bar. What a small world this was after all.

As the song started to come to an end, you grabbed another quarter to change the song. Before you could punch in the code, Ran punched one in for you. You raised your eyebrow at his choice and he rolled his eyes in response.

"I like this song." Was all he said before he pulled you into your next dance. 

A laugh escaped you as he twirled you around the floor. You felt weightless and dizzy, but in the best way possible. You could tell why he liked the song. It was peppy and had a good rhythm, something easy to dance to. You couldn't help but enjoy this time immensely, even as the song drew to a close.

You paused to catch your breath and take a sip of your drink. Ran ordered a whiskey and drank it slowly, his eyes on you the whole time. If he was any other person and this was any other time, you would have taken him home with those bedroom eyes. But you valued your life more than your pleasure. So instead you just winked at him and went back to the jukebox. You had one quarter left. You had to make it a good one.

After going over the choices a couple of times, you finally made your selection. It wasn't fast-paced or even all that happy. It was a song about reminiscing over your past and finding solace that the best is yet to come. It was slow, easy, and a good way to end the night.

Ran tapped your shoulder. "One more?"

You couldn't deny him. If you weren't going to take him home, you could at least dance with him one more time. As he pulled you close, you could feel your heart leap into your throat. It was intimate but not sexual. It was almost... romantic.

"How come I've never seen you at the clubs?" He asked quietly in your ear. "You have the moves for it."

You chuckled and shook your head. "Not my scene. But I'm assuming they're yours. You seem like a club guy. Ah, I don't mean to offend you or anything-"

He shook his head. "Not at all. Actually, I own a couple of clubs in Roppongi."

"Is that so? You must be loaded then. I hear the club scene over there is to die for."

"Thanks to my brother and me." He smirked and spun you, making your head go fuzzy. "Perhaps you should try it sometime. I can turn one of my clubs into a dive bar for a night, just for you."

The way he whispered that last part in your ear made you shiver. But you smiled nonetheless. "I might just have to take you up on that."

As the final song of the night came to a close, the two of you stared at each other in the eyes. There was something in him, something that was asking if he could kiss you. You wanted to give in. You were even leaning towards him-

The door to the bar opened. Everyone turned to look. It was a different man with a Bonten tattoo. Upon making eye contact with Ran, he nodded. Apparently, his ride was here.

Ran sighed. "Right on time. And I was so looking forward to cracking some skulls."

You bit your lip and hid it behind your hand. You knew he wasn't joking but you were tipsy. It was a little funny the way he said it so stoically.

He turned to look at you and pulled out a business card. "Call me, if you ever want to partake in my proposal."

You gently took the card from him and watched him slip away. Your heart was beating too fast and your head was clouded. Still, you couldn't stop thinking about the charming Bonten executive you danced your night away with.

It was then that the regular woman yelled out to you, "See? I told you! All you needed was some hunky arm candy!"

[vroomian]

lmao i think itd be so funny if angel dusk starts tleling everyone who yrz was RIGHT IN FRONT OF HIM and yrz just not even noticing the arrival of a new person. hes got that tunnel vision going for him.

angel dust: YEAH and the LUST OVERLORD is fucking OBSESSED with him, he is the RIGHT HAND MAN of the LIBRARY DEMON (the demon with the safest most secure territory in ALL of HELL) and I once HAD THE MOST MIND BLOWING SEX with him ever

everyone turning to look at what yrz has to say:

yrz reading a book with utmost concentration, turning over the page:

charlie: reed?

yrz, still reading:

alastor, clearing his throat, swings an arm over yrz’ shoulders: WELL, IT IS TIME FOR YOUR GREAT REVEAL

yrz, blinking at alastor’s arms on his shoulders, swivelling his head and seeing angel first thing: oh, long time no see, angel. how ya been? *in a working class accent he adopted while working as an escort for many years*

everybody, except for angel (grinning, waving his hand) and alastor (blinking aggressively): WHAT THE FUCK IS THIS 180?

cue an interrogation that yrz doesnt enjoy. he is like “mind yo own business 🙄 but i GUESS i could put in a word (to himself)” the entire time

Anon have you been reading my mind because this is exactly how I picture that moment going down I swear to god.

Yrz is reading. His ass is not paying attention. He doesn’t get why everyone’s so shocked??? It’s just a job????

(Not pictured on screen: angel making the others swear on their mothers graves not to let Val know that Yrz shows up at the hotel regularly because angel refuses to deal with that tantrum.)