#I’m obsessed with it already and nowhere near done

[salemssimblr]

Having to do things outside of my house and leave an unfinished render behind killlsssss meeeeee

[i02dollia]

ONLY BECAUSE I LIKE YOU — seunghan hong ˎˊ˗

you are so holy and angelic, a creature of light. for me, a being sinful and sick, you gift me back life.

ᝰ.ᐟ pairing. dom jock!seunghan x bottom male!reader

warnings. seunghan is a dick at first. enjoys bullying reader and making him feel upset or insecure. name calling, crying, arguing, and physical violence but it’s quite short and nothing serious. smut. seunghan is such a dom and is obsessed with being in control. lowkey creepy and perverted. seunghan loves cock!!

psst. isn’t the basketball divider soo cute 😩

the bell rang causing your heart to pound. the booming was furious and incessant—oh your poor heart. feeling like you were on fire and spontaneously combustion could occur at any moment now, slowly standing from your desk and gathering all of your belongings you decided to make a run for it which may have been the stupidest decision of your life. the feeling of a warm large hand grabbed at the back of your uniform and a small whine left your lips—a deep chuckle coming from behind you which was all too familiar. why did he have to be so attractive? fuck. why did you sorta.. like this?

“running from me already little one? I have practice today and you’re in charge of the balls, remember?”

“o-oh.. am I? must’ve f-forgot..” it was your turn to chuckle but it was nowhere near how seunghan would chuckle—yours was a pathetic giggle showing exactly how nervous you were around him even if the both of you had been childhood friends. still remembering his words not to tell anyone about growing up together.

there you weee clutching the books in your arms and keeping a good distance between him, his friends, and you. following them from the very back and hoping this would be over soon. every week seunghan would force you to be in charge of the basketballs—fetching them and throwing them back to him so he could make the perfect shot right in the basket. gym.. or sports weren’t your thing and it never will be. you were more of a, let’s take a ride and blast music or let’s go get some ice cream and walk around town kind of guy. seunghan use to be the same when you two were growing up next door to each other. as the years went on he changed and it wasn’t for the best. it was for the worst.

“hey dumbass!”

the sound of seunghan’s deep voice pulled you from the thoughts of the past—quickly setting your books down on the bleachers and running over to him like a puppy. a little obedient puppy that looked desperate.

“I’ve only been calling your name for minutes now. the hell is wrong with you? start getting my balls ready!”

seunghan’s group would laugh at you like usual and say the most fucked up things as if they were god’s gift to this planet. quickly—not wanting him to wait any longer you pushed the cart across the gym and handed him a ball. the ball had an odd black mark across it and he called it his lucky ball. why? the mark came from you. which you didn’t understand why it would be lucky since he hated you so much. his lips curled up into a smirk once you handed him the ball and he made the perfect shot like he always did. he was so perfect.

this continued for hours. seunghan never cared if you wanted to study, go buy a few snacks and be alone, or talk with some classmates about the upcoming exams. he only cared about bullying you and using you as his puppet because he knew you’d do anything he said. at this point the running back and forth had tired you out and your back subconsciously leaned against the gym wall—wanting.. no needing to slide down it and rest.

“get up loser. we aren’t done yet and you know that. why are you being so damn different today? any other day you’re running to make sure I’m satisfied. pissed off at me or something? maybe.. you want something else from me? maybe—like a kiss?”

his words caught you off guard and your body pushed itself off the wall—gently pushing him back by his broad shoulders. “what the fuck? why would you say something like that! weirdo.. you like boys?” what were you even saying? you weren’t too sure about him but you? you loved men. embarrassment filled your veins and a dark pink color came over your cheeks. seunghan quickly caught on and looked around making sure no one was paying attention before he leaned closer to you, forcing you to take a few steps back hitting the wall behind you. head tilting up to look at him. he was so much taller than you.. god you loved it so much.

“don’t fuck around with me yn. I know you’re just a little fruitcake needing to be taken care of but that won’t be from me. don’t even think about any of my friends either. they don’t like dudes nor would they want you.”

a warm tear ran down your flushed cheek. not.. understanding why he was such a dick to you. you pushed at his chest against but he didn’t budge—purposely showing how much stronger he was than you and it was such a turn on. pushing past him with everything you had he allowed you too and you found yourself running out of the gym. seunghan bullied you every single day but words were never said like today.

a few hours later seunghan found himself sitting on the gym floor—covered in sweat. his mind racing with the image of you and just how cute you were today. since a child he knew he liked you. was it love? he wasn’t sure but he needed and wanted you. the way you smiled, got shy and embarrassed so easily, the way you walked was so adorable to him and.. how you treated everyone around you. what a perfect person. he was ruining the perfect relationship he could’ve been having with you because of.. the school and him being one of the most popular students. what would happen if everyone found out about his crush on you? or.. why should he care about what others thought when he’s liked you since you both were children.

the next day was the same. seunghan would continue to pick on you, call you names, call you out in class for not paying attention or worse—staring at him. it was an accident.. really. it was. you had zoned out in his direction and when he threw a pencil at you to get you back to reality it was the worse reality you’ve ever faced. the girls around him would snicker and call you a weirdo for staring so hard at him—but to seunghan he loved it. loved the way your eyes found his and how you only looked at him in such ways. no other guy in the school had your attention like he did. he’d wink at you and you’d turn from such embarrassment.

“are you coming to the party tonight? it’s at seunghan’s I wasn’t sure if you’d be comfortable but please come?”

the only girl that was kind to you was begging you to go to his party. fuck. with a shrug to your shoulders—you flipped the page in the book and continued to read what was needed for the next exam. the girl groaned and pushed at your shoulder in a playful manner, “oh come on! you’ll be with me! don’t let that jerk bother you so much.” and she was right. all you had to do was ignore him and not let him get under your skin but it was hard when he purposely placed himself near you at all times. if he didn’t have the people around him so manipulated and obsessed with him, they’d think he’s weird for the constant pushing and pulling at you.

“fine!” is all you said to her before getting up from your bed and disappearing into the bathroom. why not.. get ready and look nice for once. everyone saw you as a nerd so maybe this was your time to prove them wrong!

“god you look good..makes me think you fake being a stupid looking nerd. you’re so.. fuckable now.” a groan left your lips at how weird she sounded—not knowing exactly what she meant but maybe that would bring seunghan to you. why did you care? he obviously didn’t like you. another groan left your lips and this time she turned to look around, eyebrows furrowed. “I-I was just annoyed with something..” disappearing into your closet to find something to wear. ripped skinny jeans? maybe not.. that’s so 2016. maybe shorts! god.. you look so stupid. there wasn’t much time so the pair of ripped jeans and a hoodie was your only choice.

“don’t be so nervous! nothing bad will happen. it’s a party and I’m sure everyone will be drunk anyway.”

drunk? everyone was a senior but that wasn’t the appropriate age to drink yet. it wasn’t even legal. at this point you’re sounding like a parent—your parents. ugh. the girl hooked an arm around your own pulling you inside the large home with her. the smell of alcohol, sweat, and smoke filled your nose causing you to cough. “why does it smell so bad in here—” before you could finish your sentence she giggled and looked your way, “why does you sound so innocent.. sheesh.”

“what the fuck are you doing here?”

that deep voice.. you knew all too well. slowly turning to look at seunghan who had a smirk across his cute lips. those lips. you’d do anything to kiss them. “he’s my friend! I wanted him to be here with me now stop being such a dickhead han!” han? since when was she so close to him.. to use a nickname? this weird feeling of anger filled you and it was something you didn’t like or want. who cares if she called him a nickname—your crush on him would never be anything more.

eventually she left your side and you were left to fend for yourself, grabbing a sprite from the cooler and making your way through the large home—pushing past sweaty bodies, people making out, and others passed out on the floor. what a damn mess this was. seunghan.. had his eye on you the entire time. pushing away each girl that came to grind against him or place their filthy hands over his chest. he watched carefully as you moved your head to the music and drank the sprite you got from the cooler. how fucking cute he thought to himself and how cute the outfit was on you. it’s something he’s never seen before and he wanted to see it more often. why not confess? should he? fuck he was in a tough situation of not knowing what to do.

stepping outside to get some fresh air—a sigh left your lips and you closed your eyes enjoying how much quieter it was out with nature. leaning against the railing of the large porch, your lips curled up into a smile once you seen a pretty butterfly stopping at a few flowers that were finally blooming getting ready for the spring. just as you were about to leave the porch a hand slipped around your waist forcing you to turn and face them—seunghan. your eyes widened and.. you couldn’t believe what he was doing. “what the hell are you doing seunghan? g-get off of me..” but he didn’t move. no not at all. why would he? he wanted this.

“I’m tired of pretending, pretty boy. aren’t you tired of pretending you don’t want me as well hm?”

shock. you looked at him in utter shock not believing what he was saying. was this another joke? which friend told him to act like this? you pushed his hand off of you but he brought it back up to your waist instantly and moved his body closer to your own until you two were pressed up against each other—his bulge.. was now touching your own. “s-seunghan this isn’t funny.” but he was serious. he wasn’t laughing like he would be if this was a joke. he wasn’t smiling. you’ve never seen this look on him before and it was confusing. now both of his hands were on your waist and he leaned in to your ear, warm lips touching the lobe—

“meet me upstairs in my room in 5. I mean it.”

seunghan then pressed a quick kiss below your ear and pulled away from you disappearing back in the house. not realizing it.. you’ve been holding your breath the entire time and when he was gone you could finally breathe, chest heaving up and down. holy shit. did that.. actually happen? you weren’t sure why he wanted to see you but why not. after about 5 minutes or what seemed to be 5 minutes—you made your way upstairs and to his room giving it a knock before letting yourself in. seunghan sat on the edge of the bed stroking his clothed cock and patted the seat next to him.

“lock the door.”

it was a demand—so you did. “if you need your dick wet so bad why not ask one of the girls down there.” seunghan could only chuckle at how pissed you sounded. it was quite obvious you were jealous and although you didn’t mean to show it.. it happened that way. his eyes never left your own as you sat down next to him not wanting to look down at.. him touching himself. seunghan scooted closer to you and wrapped an arm around your waist pulling you into his side, his face nuzzling in the crook of your neck.

“you don’t know how long I’ve wanted this. you’ve been on my mind since we were kids. at first I tried to ignore it but.. I just couldn’t. tell me you feel the same way, please? you feel the same way about me baby?”

what? what the hell. you felt as if your heart would beat right out of your chest. no words could form and all you did was stare into oblivion. what do you say to this? to the man who has been bullying you for years now and making your school life miserable. “s-seunghan this is a really fucked up joke.. you know that? stop this.”

“it’s not a damn joke! are you that fucking stupid? I like you loser. I’ve always liked you I just don’t know how to show that or be around you. I’m nervous as fuck and.. can’t properly think when I’m around you. I’ve faked it all to look cool and it’s not right. I want you. I want you so bad I can’t take it anymore.”

and with those words he laid his forehead against yours, free hand resting on your face rubbing away the warm tears that ran down your cheeks. seunghan thought you looked perfect like this.. crying because of him? god he loved it. his lips pressed against your own and it was as if his lips were made for yours—molding together so perfectly. he bit down on your bottom lip forcing his tongue in your mouth when your lips parted and a moan escaped your throat—grabbing your hand and leading it to his hardened cock in his pants.

“look at what you did to me baby.. showing up in such a cute little outfit like this. you look so different and it’s such a good different. I mean—you’re so adorable in the uniform but this? so. fucking. cute.”

your lips curled up into a cute smile—growing shy with the cute and sweet compliments he was showering you in. you groped his cock and rubbed it just like you’d do to your own and his lips parted—a raspy groan leaving them that made your own cock twitch in your pants. it was his turn to feel yours although it was much harder with the jeans on than his sweatpants so he took it upon himself to unbutton your jeans—you gasped. not sure if you were ready for him to see you in such a way yet. I mean.. would it be embarrassing?

“what baby? let me see your pretty cock, hm? I’ll let you see mine. I’m sure it’s the prettiest cock ever. let seunghan see okay? you’ll be okay. I promise.”

the way he spoke about himself in third person was so hot. you slowly nodded your head and helped him get rid of the jeans you were wearing. “such a good boy.” and your cheeks burned growing quite embarrassed by this situation but not in a negative way—it was far from that. this was your dream. you were definitely going to take advantage of this now. it was his turn to take off his pants leaving you both in your underwear. it was so.. intimate. especially with the way he stared at you as if you were the most perfect human alive.

“touch me baby. don’t be afraid, yeah? touch me and I’ll touch you how’s that sound? wanna jerk you off so bad.. you don’t know how many times I’ve thought about this and came so hard.”

seunghan wasn’t afraid to admit his feelings and how he thought of you. it was clear he wanted you to know. your hand found his cock and his found yours.. facing each other and slowly jerking each other off. your eyes finally left his to look down at his cock—which was the prettiest. your mouth watered at the sight and you so badly wanted to kiss the pretty dark pink tip. so without thinking about it you pushed his hand off your cock and leaned forward—wrapping your lips around the head and sucking gently. “oh.. oh fuck.” hearing seunghan cruse in such a way was so attractive and you wanted to hear more. his hand reached up to grip your hair keeping your head down and you took more of him into your mouth—down your throat until you gagged slightly from the tip hitting the back of your throat.

“fuck—baby that’s so good. you’re so good at this.”

were you? you weren’t going to tell him this was your first time ever sucking cock before. it was more than embarrassing at this point. you continued to bob your head up and down allowing him to be aggressive and force your head down so you’d take his entire length down your throat, pushing you off allowing you to gasp for needed air. “you’re such a good boy for me. fuck.”

seunghan pulled you by the hair and slammed his lips into yours tasting himself on your perfect lips and tongue that he already adored so much. after a few minutes of making out or what seemed like forever.. he pulled away from you and chuckled. “gonna fuck you so hard that everyone here knows you’re mine.”

[httpsminsgirl]

Obsessed. ! H. TS x reader

Contains: fluff, tooth aching fluff at the end..., toxic behavior, insecurities from reader's side, friends to lovers, non-idol! taesan x fem! reader. (WC: 1.922)

A/N: my longest work yet... Inspired by Olivia Rodrigo's song 'obsessed' !! sorry for my dyslexia!

“Taesan, show her around,” the teacher said, staring at the tall black-haired guy who was distracted talking with a friend. He was handsome—sharp features, plump lips, a pretty jawline… I just smiled awkwardly as he sighed and stood up.

“Yes, sir,” he said, walking towards the door and opening it, looking back at me and waiting. “Come on,” he said, and I excused myself before following him around as he showed me the different classrooms, public spaces, gardens, etc. He was kind and soft-spoken, showing an expected laid-back behavior as I just followed him quietly, trying to pay attention and remember everything.

That’s how Taesan’s and I friendship started—that’s how I ended up joining his little group of friends. Taesan was very social, and popular too, but nothing I wouldn’t have expected already.

When Taesan and I met, he had a girlfriend: Seunghee. A fashion student, loved daughter, newbie actress, influencer—just another nepo baby with a mean girl attitude that made me roll my eyes every time I was near her. Two months later, Seunghee and Taesan broke up because they weren’t hitting things off very well, and she was becoming a pretty big influencer. That meant meeting more handsome men with more money and fame, which was basically the only thing a nepo baby cared about.

Taesan suffered over the breakup a bit, saying how he really wanted to work things out and whatnot, while his friends told him he could do so much better and that she was a bitch anyway—something I wholeheartedly agreed with.

After some weeks, he was fine again, and we even got to be closer since there was nothing stopping us anymore. He was nice, smart, funny—he really was the whole package. We would meet at his house with the guys, go for coffee, or just meet up to study. In the meantime, as I unconsciously half-consciously developed a crush on him, I started putting more effort into my appearance and looks. I had bought new clothes—pretty clothes that showed off my figure, but nothing exaggerated, keeping comfort as a priority. I decided to dye my hair a sweet, honey-like color that fit me really well. It looked so good, everyone kept complimenting me.

The next day, as I went to university, everyone started looking at me weirdly, making me start to overthink. I decided to ignore it and just went to class—only to walk into a nightmare.

Seunghee had gotten her hair done too… the exact same color, length, wave, everything. I looked at her confused and she did too.

“Did you copy me?” she asked, clearly bothered.

I scoffed. “Copy you? I’d rather die before copying you,” I said, as whispers started going around. Taesan and the guys looked surprised themselves. As I sat down next to Taesan, I just took off his cap and put it on.

“Yeah, sure, go ahead,” he said mockingly, since I hadn’t asked for permission. Starting that day, one of my nicknames became Seunghee’s copycat—a name I couldn’t hate more in the whole world.

I was walking out of class when I suddenly felt someone grab my arm, making me turn around. I looked at him confused, but somehow, he looked at me confused too. Not even two seconds later, my expression turned annoyed.

“There’s no way you just confused me with your ex,” I said, clearly bothered.

He licked his lips nervously. “No, I promise not… I was going to ask if you… wanted to meet up tomorrow for coffee?”

I sighed and pulled my arm from his grip. “I’m busy,” I said dryly, then just walked away. That was my last straw. After that, I changed my hair back to black.

After that day, Taesan kept apologizing—bringing me flowers and even snacks to my dorm out of nowhere. So, I decided to let it go, and it actually didn’t take long for us to start dating.

We were a great couple, of course. We matched each other’s energy, were comfortable around one another, had study dates as we coffee-hopped around town, went to the gym together, and so much more. He was really an amazing boyfriend. News of us dating went around the whole university, but we didn’t mind—after all, it was normal.

One day, after our lessons ended, Taesan left a kiss on my forehead.

“I’ll leave now, I’ll see you later. I love you!!” he said as he picked up his stuff and left almost running, since he had an event with the guys and they couldn’t miss the bus.

I just smiled as he left and picked up my stuff normally—until I saw someone placing their books on my table.

“He’s only dating you ’cause you’re my lookalike,” Seunghee said, her voice filled with contempt.

I said nothing.

“Really… you’re nothing compared to me. I’m rich, pretty, famous… what would you have that I don’t?”

I scoffed nasally. “Taesan as my boyfriend? Maybe?” I asked sarcastically, then picked up my backpack. “I don’t care about you, Seunghee. He doesn’t either. He’s over you… you should move on too. After all, you were the one who hurt him and broke things off just because you stopped finding him attractive after you got surrounded by richer men.”

I smiled and walked away. I felt proud for standing up to her, but… there was something in her words, something about the way she said them so surely, that made me feel uneasy.

Taesan’s and I relationship was still great, but I started feeling insecure. One late night as I laid in his bed waiting for him, I laid down on his side of the bed, facing my side… but it didn’t take long before I started picturing Seunghee laying there—in my place. I quickly stood up and left the room.

The next few days, I felt off. Closed off. I became obsessed with Seunghee. I watched all the series she appeared in. I paid attention to the details of her outfits, the way she talked, moved, ate. I checked everything she posted on Instagram. I knew everything about her—her zodiac sign, blood type, even what she ate yesterday, all because of a stupid live she did that I watched while having dinner.

I stared at her in class like I was about to pick a fight, but really, I was just drowning in thoughts and insecurities.

“Are you okay?” Taesan asked, pulling me out of my trance.

We were in his room, studying for finals with some coffee, kind of cuddled up—my leg draped over his. He rubbed my thigh softly, caressing it with his thumb.

“Hmm? Yeah… just, I don’t know,” I said, sighing as I looked back at my notebook.

He nodded without much thought and we continued studying. But I looked at the bed again, picturing Seunghee laying there, and sighed, putting my pencil down.

“What’s wrong?”

“Is Seunghee close with the guys?” I asked.

He raised an eyebrow. “No, we all stopped talking to her after we broke up. Why?”

“No reason…” I said softly, returning to my notebook. “Was she good in bed?” I asked quickly, biting my lower lip as soon as the words left my mouth.

Taesan put his pen down and looked at me, his hand returning to my thigh.

“Y/N… what’s going on?”

“I’m just curious.”

He sighed, glancing around for a second. “No, she wasn’t… she was lazy. A pillow princess. Not enjoyable… happy?”

I pressed my lips together slightly. That was good—he basically said he didn’t enjoy it, right?

“Do you ever think about her?”

“Y/N…”

“No, it’s fine! Really, it doesn’t matter. Tell me, please. I’m just curious,” I said, trying to sound convincing.

Taesan looked at me for a moment. “I don’t.”

“Was she easygoing? Controlling? Well-traveled? Well-read?”

“No, Y/N, she wasn’t. She acted like a spoiled kid all the time, and the only reason she wasn’t controlling was because she was too busy with her influencer career to care.”

I let out a small sigh. He stood up and started cleaning up the table, putting our books aside. I stayed seated, lost in thought. Then I felt his hands on my waist as he lifted me and set me on the table. I looked at him wide-eyed, slightly scared I might’ve upset him, but he just stood between my legs and caressed my waist, kissing my forehead.

“Y/N, what made you start to overthink things, my dear?”

I stayed silent for a moment, then sighed and looked into his eyes.

“The day… the day you left class early for the event with the guys… Seunghee came to me and told me that the only reason you were with me was because I looked like her. At first I didn’t overthink it, I promise… but then I remembered when you mistook me for her because we had the same hairstyle. And it makes me wonder if you ever see her in me…”

I whispered the last part, looking down. He let out a soft chuckle and gently lifted my chin with his fingers.

“Y/N… it’s true that I confused you with her that day, but that was only because I was in a rush. A rush to give her back her things before she left—so we wouldn’t have any more excuses to talk. I don’t see her in you at all. Every time I looked at her, I saw someone selfish, a distraction, a spoiled brat. Someone I stayed with because she seemed fun and was kind sometimes.

“But when I look at you, Y/N…”

He smiled, cupping my face and caressing my cheeks.

“I see the person I want to change for. Someone who makes me want to be better. Someone who supports me. Someone I love and who makes me feel loved. I see a girl with a pretty smile, kind personality, who’s funny… someone that matches my energy like no other. I see someone I’d be willing to spend the rest of my life with…”

He tucked a stray lock of hair behind my ear.

“I love you, Y/N. And no one is ever going to compare to you—not even in the slightest. You may not be my first… but I want you to be my last.”

[robinofgothamcity]

“I just killed a man, she’s my alibi.”

Character: Jonathan Crane / DC

Authors Note: guy, I’m such a slut for Jonathan, as all of you can tell lmfao. Anyway, here’s a blurb for him bc i clearly cannot stop writing for him! Again, not checked for spelling or grammar errors. Also, i think my crush on cillian also contributes to this obsession i have with Jonathan

Being a vigilante had to be one of the hardest parts of your life. Every time a crime happened in Gotham, you were one of the first to be called to be questioned. You really had no idea why Batman or his group of annoying superheroes were always so interest in you being at the center of any crime. You wondered if maybe there was an underlying reason but every time you questioned them, they gave you a flat answer.

Tonight’s crime had been done by two face and gang of gremlins and although you thought that the crime was funny, you immediately knew that Batman was going to hunt you down for it.

“Did Harvey really need to do this tonight?” You asked Jonathan and Edward as you took another swig of your wine, “I was actually enjoying this outing but I can assure you Batman is going to question me as soon as I walk out of here”. Edward couldn’t help but chuckle as he could tell that you were no longer in the mood to drink. “Have you ever thought that it could be because Batman or his group of idiots want you on their side? I mean, you are one of the few vigilantes that can control the supernatural.”

You thought for a moment, wondering if Edward had a point.

“As if, she’s not stupid enough to join them,” Jonathan replied. You gave him a look, “I mean, you’re right but can I be the one to say that?” You said as you looked back to Edward, “I really don’t see why they’d need me. They have enough magic to last them a lifetime so I doubt I’d be useful. Plus, who else would be here to be a pain in your asses if I ran off with the Justice League?”

Not a second after the three of you walked out of the bar you noticed Batman sitting on top of your motorcycle with a smirk sitting on his face.

“Good evening to you Batman, came to bother me?” You asked as you perched yourself onto the bike to look up at the caped crusader. Jonathan felt his eye twitch in annoyance as he could tell that stupid charming personality that Batman had very much worked on you without any real effort, “Is it bothering if I came to question you? There was an attempted robbery Gotham Bank and you were very close to the scene.”

You couldn’t help but laugh sarcastically.

“It is bothering me considering I’ve been with these idiots all night, you can check the camera footage if you don’t believe me,” you smugly as you pointed back to Jonathan and Edward. They gave you a look of annoyance as Jonathan stepped up next to you, “She was nowhere near that moron tonight so you can go ahead and leave us alone,” Jonathan stated as he put his hand on your shoulder.

You stared at him wondering where this genuine look of anger came from. Jonathan didn’t get angry very easily but whenever he did, it was never for something this small. It took a lot of make him upset and with the small interaction with the bat, you couldn’t help but wonder if there was something that you were missing to make him that angry.

“Sorry bat, I really was with them. If you want, you can check with Harvey and ask him about his whereabouts,” you replied not really in the mood to be dealing with the same game he always played when questioning you. Batman clicked his tongue as he looked to Jonathan, “would you like to state something? Or you Edward?” Edward put his hands up in defense as Jonathan pushed you farther back to look at Batman,” the girl already told you she was not near Dent or his goons so get to work bat.”

You and Edward started laughing as you watched Jonathan continue to stare him down.

“Come on you big scary man, you don’t need to end up in Arkham tonight,” you whispered to Jonathan as you tapped your fingers on his shoulder. He sighed realizing you were right and walked away from the hero as you gave Edward your keys as a silent indication to take it back to your place.

There wasn’t many times where Jonathan was mad at you but you realized that your interaction with Batman was the primary reason to Jonathan’s anger. You and Jonathan were very close when it came to having partners in the underworld of Gotham but this was the first time that you could see Jonathan’s anger practically boiling over.

“Okay, now that they’re both gone, want to explain why you were about to fight the strongest hero in Gotham?” You asked as you put your hands in your shorts, expecting an answer. He rolled his eyes not wanting to give you a reason but he knew you’d keep pestering him about it if he didn’t give you one, “Is there something going on with you and that moron?” He asked very straight forwardly.

“Me and Batman? First of all, absolutely not. Jonathan, you’re smart of enough to realize that on your own so what would give you that impression?” You asked. He gave you a dry laugh as you pushed you up against a random building, his thumb and index finger pinching your face, “It doesn’t take an idiot to realize that Batman wanted more than that interaction from you and you’re smart enough to realize that sweetheart.”

This time, it was your turn to roll your eyes.

“Even if he wanted something more, I’m not going to play justice league today or ever and you know that Jonathan,” you replied as you grabbed the hand that was holding your face and stroked it gently, “Jonathan, if I really wanted to make you jealous, I’d do it with someone more worth my time,” you added on.

Jonathan couldn’t help but laugh as he stared at you with this evil glint in his eyes, “well, I’m glad you know your worth,” he replied as you laid a hardening kiss on his lip, “well, I’m slightly disappointed that you doubted me,” you pouted dramatically.

“Sweetheart, you know that game does not work on me so let’s just forget this little interaction happened and we can go back to my place and finish that last bottle of wine that you didn’t get too last week.”

“Sounds like a great idea Dr.Crane,” you replied as you gave him a wink.

[keyboardsmashess]

The Siren, or The Heart of the Matter

Chapter Thirty : The Note, or The Thesis Defense from Hell

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x OFC

Warnings: language, fluff, angst, canon-typical violence, smut MINORS DNI. A/N: My bbs! We're nearing the end of this story - I'd say maybe five chapters to go, give or take 😭 Until then, though, enjoy the insanity of my fully unleashed Bucky obsession now that Cleo's feelings are out there 😘

Summary: The morning after our heroes' big moment takes a very unexpected turn.

Chapter Directory

Tap. Tap. Tap.

Bucky squeezes his eyes closed against the sound, wondering for a moment if he’s got a leak somewhere in his apartment. If he does, then Stark’s really getting sloppy. He’ll have to give the guy some shit for that. These Tower apartments are supposed to be state-of-the-art everything, or at least that’s what he thinks Stark said - he wasn’t really listening when he got the grand tour.

But wait, Bucky thinks, shifting in bed. Since when do I have silk sheets? He listens to the sound again, realizing that it sounds an awful lot like the tapping of a shoe.

Before he even really registers what he’s doing, Bucky’s standing in his boxers with a gun pulled on the stranger.

“What the hell, Barnes? Also, when did you stash a handgun in my nightstand?” 

Bucky releases a lungful of air he didn’t realize he’d been holding and lowers the weapon.

“Also part two, what the shit did you guys do to my bedroom? If I have to hire cleaners, I’m billing you,” Meg says, arms crossed and tapping her foot.

Bucky sets the gun down on Meg’s nightstand, finding his pants on the ground and pulling them on self-consciously. His shirt is nowhere to be found, and he suddenly remembers Cleo putting it on after… 

After the best damn night of my life.

Speaking of. “Where’s Cleo?”

Meg rolls her eyes. “Sure, just ignore all of the very valid questions I’ve just asked you, no big deal.” She hands him a piece of notebook paper. “Your lovely lady has written you a note. Don’t worry, I’ll pretend I didn’t read it.” She winks.

Bucky accepts the paper with a small smile. “Sorry about this,” he says, gesturing to the mess of a bedroom around him.

Meg waves a hand. “It’s fine, really. I mean, I am for sure billing you for the cleaning, but it’s not like I didn’t expect something like this when I graciously removed myself from the premises for the evening.” She kicks off her shoes into a pile in the corner of the room. “I’m gonna go make some coffee and leave you to collect yourself.”

Bucky nods gratefully, unfolding the piece of paper the second Meg closes the bedroom door behind her.

James,

I can’t possibly wake you up, considering how handsome you look sleeping so peacefully (and how rarely you sleep at all), so I’m heading to my defense alone. Don’t panic when you read this - my advisor already told me I wasn’t allowed to have guests in the room, so you’re not missing anything but a boring hallway.

Bucky chuckles and shakes his head at how well she knows him, realizing his heart had already started racing at the thought of missing her big moment. 

I’ll come back to Meg’s the second I’m done and tell you all about it, promise. And then I’m pretty sure someone said something about taking me back to the Tower to celebrate? I have some new ideas for what that celebration might look like, just saying.

Bucky bites his lip as he reads, already reacting to Cleo’s words.

Speaking of that, last night was… everything. I’m shit at mushy stuff, Buck, but it was probably the best night of my life thus far. And I don’t know if you know this, but Meg and I went to a Kassie Cantor concert once and I actually got to meet her, so you’ve passed a pretty high bar. (Since I’m sure you have no idea what I’m talking about, she’s a pop singer who I’m going to force you to listen to on the way back home.)

Anyway, I don’t know why I’m writing all of this in a letter like I’m going off to war or some shit, because I’ll be back soon and could tell you all this in person, but what can I say? It’s easier to write some things than speak them out loud. To that end, I’m sorry for not being able to reciprocate the thing you said last night. I want to, and I should have, but I’m a fucking coward and emotionally stunted and just sort of a general mess, so… yeah. I should probably save the rest of this conversation for when I get back, because you deserve that.

He blows out a huff of air. When he’d told her he loved her, he knew it was something he wanted to tell her - needed to tell her - regardless of whether or not she said it back, but he can’t say he isn’t relieved to read that she apparently feels more than she let on at the time. 

Fuck, I really am bad at this, aren’t I? Whatever. You’re great, last night was great, and I can finally tell you that I think your ass is great, too. Like really super great. Okay, I’m going to go stand in front of a bunch of grumpy white men in suits and ask them to give me a degree. Bye!

xoxo, Cleo

P.S. Like spectacularly, phenomenally great.

Bucky folds the letter back up and carefully tucks it into the pocket of his jeans, resolving to save it forever. 

He stands suddenly and checks the time, an idea popping into his head. He pokes his head into the kitchen long enough to tell Meg he’s going to take a quick shower, grabs the overnight bag he’d left in her living room, and runs to the bathroom where he takes one of the fastest showers of his life.

Clean and dressed, Bucky darts into the bedroom to grab and holster his gun, then rushes toward the front door. Meg is waiting for him, a disposable travel mug of coffee in her hand and a smirk on her face.

“Cleo told me you couldn’t go into her defense, but I figured after reading that note - the note I absolutely didn’t read myself, by the way - you’d want to do something romantic like wait for her in the hallway. I already texted you the building and room number.”

Bucky grins and accepts the drink. “Meg, you’re the best.”

She waves a hand. “I know, I know. By the way, you’re going to pass a market on your way to campus, just around the corner from here. They sell flowers and Cleo’s favorite is forget-me-nots. Hey, what a fun little irony!”

He eyes her, speaking before he can think better of it. “Come visit us at the Tower sometime, there’s someone you should really meet.” And with a grateful smile, he’s out the door.

******

If Bucky’s calculations are correct, he’s arrived in the hall outside of Cleo’s defense with about ten minutes to spare. He paces the hallway for a few moments to calm himself down after the sprint to campus, then leans against the wall directly across from the door Cleo will be walking out of soon. He’s got a slightly windblown bouquet of blue forget-me-nots, a sweaty right palm, and a nervous but eager grin. He’s ready. 

When ten minutes passes with no sign of Cleo, he tells himself that it’s probably normal for these things to go a little long sometimes. After fifteen, he’s doing his best not to worry. At twenty five minutes past the stated end of the defense, Bucky decides that he’s willing to risk embarrassing Cleo and himself by opening the damn door. Taking a deep breath and preparing his excuse (they’ll buy him as a student in the wrong room, right?), Bucky hides the flowers behind his back and tries the handle.

It’s locked.

Fair enough, he thinks. They probably have security protocols in place, you know, to avoid the exact thing Bucky had been planning to use as his excuse for intruding. He knocks instead, deciding he doesn’t actually care about embarrassing Cleo at this point. When nobody comes to the door, he knocks again and presses his ear to the wood, listening closely with his serum-enhanced senses. Not only is nobody coming to the door, but he’s fairly certain nobody is in the room at all.

Fully aware he’s probably overreacting, Bucky lets out a huff of air, looks up and down the hallway to make sure nobody’s coming, and grabs the handle with his metal hand. With a little grunt, he breaks the handle and forces the door open. 

No Cleo. No committee. No one at all. 

Bucky frowns and pulls out his phone, double-checking the building and room number in the message from Meg. When he confirms he’s at what should be the right place, he paces into the room, hoping to find a note or schedule or something to clue him in to what’s going on. The room is frustratingly empty, though - empty chairs arranged behind a long conference table, an empty lectern facing them…

Bucky sighs and calls Cleo, potential interruptions be damned. Immediately, he hears a buzzing sound coming from the lectern. A sick feeling brewing in his stomach, he crosses the room and peers behind the lectern, seeing Cleo’s phone on one of the shelves lit up with the selfie she’d taken of the two of them in the home goods store. Next to it are several wrinkled notecards and a half-empty bottle of water. He ends the call, dread coiling in his gut.

Stuffing her phone in his pocket, he picks up the notecards and starts flipping through them. They’re clearly reminders she’s made for herself of the main talking points of her thesis, but when he flips to the last one, a small piece of cardstock falls out. Bucky bends down to pick it up, noting the unfamiliar scrawl in red ink.

Soldat - 

Only the dead have seen the end of war. As long as you are living, your war is not over. 

Hail HYDRA.

Bucky’s vision narrows to a singular point, blood draining from his face. He stumbles backward into the table and grabs it with his metal arm for support. He doesn’t even register the crack of the wood as he grips it too hard.

Ears ringing, he pulls out his own phone and dials the first number that comes to mind.

“Hey, Buck, how’s everything go-”

“They have her, Steve,” he chokes out, voice barely more than a whisper.

“Wait a second, what are you talking about, Buck? Who has who?” Steve asks, voice growing serious.

“HYDRA,” he bites out, the word feeling like poison on his tongue. “HYDRA has Cleo. The Philosopher must be working with them and I don’t know how, Steve, but they found her and they took her.”

He hears rustling and then rapid footsteps from the other end of the phone. “Hang on, Buck, I’m going to get Stark. We’ll find her, okay? Bucky, I promise we’ll find her.” Steve’s voice is calmer than it has any right to be, in Bucky’s opinion, but he trusts the man more than almost anyone else, so he stays on the line.

While he waits, he frantically searches the room for any clues to Cleo’s whereabouts, tossing chairs to the side and upending the table, but he comes up empty. Stark’s voice brings him back to the present moment.

“Barnes, what was she wearing today?”

Bucky gives a disgusted scoff. “Christ, Stark, what the hell is wrong with you? I don’t think now -”

“Barnes,” Tony cuts him off, voice cold and serious. “Just trust me for one second and answer the fucking question.”

Bucky wants to kick himself when he realizes that he can’t - that he didn’t wake up in time to see her off. “I don’t know,” he says, voice small. “I - I was sleeping when she left.”

Stark sighs. “It’s fine, we’ll just track it anyway and hope for the best.” Bucky makes a sound of confusion, speech nearly impossible in his sheer panic. “I retooled her suit a bit,” Stark explains. “Used nanotech to fit the entire thing in two little shell pins she can wear on her shoulders. All she has to do is tap them and the suit comes out. Plus a pretty slick helmet that comes out of her glasses. Ruins whatever she’s wearing at the moment, but you win some, you lose some.”

“Focus, Tony,” Banner shouts in the background.

“Right,” Stark says. “The pins have a tracker embedded in them, just in case, and the HUD in the helmet does, too. If she was wearing them this morning, we can figure out where she is.”

“Got it!” Banner calls out. “Er, I think I got it. This doesn’t really make any sense.”

Before Bucky can ask what they’re talking about, he hears Steve’s voice cut in, sounding weary with resignation. “It does if you know HYDRA.”

******

When I force my eyes open, I’m nearly blinded by the pounding in my head from just the dim, exposed lightbulb hanging overhead. I try to moan at the pain and move to wipe at something wet just above my eye, but I can’t do either.

No. Fuck. NO.

My hands are bound behind the back of the hard, metal chair I’m sitting in, and my legs are as well - one duct-taped to each of the front legs of the chair. And, worst of all, my mouth is taped shut. 

I flick my eyes wildly around the room, moving as much as my restraints allow, but there isn’t a lot to see. I’m in a small space, no windows, with that single exposed lightbulb dangling above my head. Curiously, it’s all metal - the walls, ceiling, floors - everything. That’s the only remarkable thing about the room, though, and it doesn’t give me much of a clue to my whereabouts.

I try to think back over the events of the last few hours, mind still fuzzy.

I woke up next to Bucky after the most incredible - nope, no time to focus on that, Blake.

I got ready for my thesis defense, passed Meg on the way to campus and apologized for the state of her bedroom. 

I got to the English building, went to room 12C, and…

Oh, that fucker.

It all comes back to me in a crushing wave - the empty room, save for Dr. Sapros. His laughter at my confused look. Anxiously chugging half a bottle of water. Him thumbing through my notecards. And the look in his eyes when he reached out with that current of red electricity and fucking knocked me unconscious.

Just as I’m squeezing my eyes shut in frustration, the metal door to the tiny room creaks open.

Speak of the devil.

Sapros is wearing his usual professorial attire, except with the new addition of that red cape I’m all too familiar with from my fights with The Philosopher. He’s abandoned the Greek tragedy mask, though - I suppose he no longer needs it now that I know his identity.

“Cleo,” he croons, voice disgustingly smug. “Finally awake, I see. Did you have a nice nap?”

All I can do is narrow my eyes at him in a glare, with my mouth taped shut and hands restrained. Nat had been pushing me to practice more, to learn how to manipulate the strings of frequencies without using my hands or voice, but I hadn’t made the time with my defense coming up. The defense that never fucking happened.

“It seems you’re finally speechless. In all my time as your advisor, I never thought I’d see the day where Cleo Blake had nothing to say. Well, I suppose there’s a first time for everything.” Sapros grins widely, and I mentally kick myself for not putting it all together sooner - that cadence in speech, that ridiculous smugness - of course The Philosopher sounded familiar to me - he’d been my teacher for three fucking years.

“I’m terribly sorry your defense couldn’t proceed as planned, but there were more important things to be dealt with - you understand, right? After all, patience is bitter, but its fruit is sweet.”

I roll my eyes, hoping he sees. That was Aristotle, you stupid dick.

“Some of my… colleagues, I suppose you could call them, are hard at work trying to determine how we might extract that little beauty,” he says, pointing to my crystal. “However, until then, you’re serving another purpose here. Of course, you’d see for yourself soon enough, but I know how you despise surprises so I’ll just let the cat out of the bag, as it were. My colleagues and I lost a very important weapon some time ago, and we believe you are just the thing to draw him back.”

Him. Sapros said ‘him,’ not ‘it.’ That means…

My eyes go wide with realization and I fight against my restraints, crying out futilely from behind the tape across my mouth.

“Oh hush now, Cleo, no need for such dramatics. Though you always were a feisty one, weren’t you? It took everything I had to convince you to drop your Atlantis research in favor of something more ‘mainstream.’ Lucky for me, you were more desperate for belonging than you were to follow in your father’s footsteps. Once I threatened to remove you from the meager little community you’d scraped together at Culver, I could have demanded anything and you’d have given it.”

I freeze, eyebrows knitting together at the mention of my father. I never once told Sapros where my passion for Atlantis came from.

He smirks at me. “Are you just realizing that I mentioned your father? Nothing if not sharp, you are. Yes, I am well aware of your father’s little pet project. And, as it turns out,” Sapros says, tapping the crystal in a gesture that has me flinching away from him, “he was far closer to the truth than we gave him credit for.”

I blink at him, mind reeling as I try to piece everything together - every past-tense word, every mention of my father’s work - hoping none of it means what I’m starting to dread it might.

“It’s tragic, really, that he’ll never know just how close he was. He’ll never know that the crystal chose precisely who he suspected it would, despite my best efforts to find it myself and keep you as far from it as possible. How ironic that I was in the middle of the Mediterranean, following your father’s final theory, while you were stumbling upon the object of my desire in a dusty, second-rate library at little old Culver.”

I make a squeak of indignation when he calls the library ‘second-rate,’ but it goes ignored.

“By the time I returned,” Sapros growls, growing angrier as he monologues, “you had already been snapped up by the gods-damned Avengers. Tell me, Cleo, is Rogers still as self-righteous as he used to be, or has he lost some steam in his old age? And how is my favorite weapon enjoying the droll mediocrity of the fight for justice?” He pauses, sneering at me, before releasing a dark chuckle and bringing his palm to his forehead dramatically. “Of course. I’m terribly sorry, how could I forget I’ve finally managed to render you speechless? And thank the gods for that - your incessant prattling is nearly as irritating as your father’s was.”

I close my eyes, squeezing them tight. Sapros must be toying with me, attempting to rattle me or wind me up. Maybe he’s trying to make me emotional to see if the crystal will react in some way. Whatever he’s doing, he can’t possibly be telling the truth - he can’t possibly mean that my father had been working with HYDRA, or that my father is now gone. 

Sapros looses another chuckle. “Of course, you must be simply exhausted after preparing for your little thesis defense. I’ll just leave you to rest for a bit. You’ll need your strength, after all, if you’re going to give me that crystal.”

I hear the click of his footsteps on the metal floor followed by the slam of the door, and only then do I allow the tears to roll freely down my cheeks.

******

“I’ve just sent the coordinates to your phone so you can meet us. But Buck, we’re an hour out at best. I know you’re closer, but I’m begging you - wait for the rest of us to get there,” Steve says, voice pleading.

“Sure,” Bucky responds flatly.

“Bucky.” Steve’s voice is stern, warning. “I’m serious - we don’t know what we’re going to find, but it’s HYDRA, so it can’t be good. Don’t do anything stupid.” Bucky hears footsteps, and when Steve speaks again, his voice is a whisper. “We haven’t figured out how to break your trigger words, Buck. You can’t just go running in there.”

“Got it,” Bucky says, voice void of emotion. “Of course.”

Steve sighs. “We’ll get there as soon as we can, okay? Just hold tight.”

“Absolutely,” Bucky says, setting the flowers next to Cleo’s note cards on the lectern. Forehead creased with anger, he hangs up his phone and memorizes the coordinates before tossing it in the trash on the way out the door. He stalks out of the building and into the parking garage, doing a quick sweep of the vehicles before his eyes land on a motorcycle.

Perfect, he thinks. It takes him all of a minute to hotwire the bike, and then he’s speeding out of the garage, headed for the nearby coast. He has a submarine to catch.

[rylem33]

Blackwood Forest

Lena leaned against the iron railing of her balcony, feeling the warm city breeze. She was a city girl and loved the tall buildings and crowded sidewalks. The chaos of it all was familiar and comforting.

She exhaled. What the hell am I doing?

The packed duffel bag sat by her front door. In less than an hour, she’d be driving out of the city, away from all of this. No traffic, no bars, no late-night takeout spots. Just trees. Dirt. Sleeping outside like some kind of wilderness lunatic.

She checked her phone again. No texts from Megan yet. Not that she expected any. Megan had probably been up since dawn, already setting up camp like the nature-obsessed lunatic she was.

Lena sighed and went inside. Megan’s words echoed in her mind.

“You need this.”

Maybe she did.

----------------------------------------------------------

An hour later she grabbed her bag, slung it over her shoulder, took one last look at her city skyline, and locked the door behind her.

Lena adjusted her sunglasses and leaned back against the headrest, watching the city skyline shrink in her rearview mirror. The highway stretched out ahead of her. She tapped her fingers against the steering wheel. 

Camping. In the woods. For an entire weekend. It was something she never thought she’d do, but when Megan had called her up out of nowhere, it had been impossible to say no.

“Come on, Lena! It’s been forever, and you need this. Fresh air, no cell service.” Megan had let out a mischievous laugh. “No distractions.”

Lena had laughed, rolling her eyes. “You say that like I won’t have a panic attack without WiFi.”

“It’ll be good for you,” Megan had insisted. “Besides, when was the last time you saw actual stars?”

And now, here she was, an hour outside the city, winding through country roads that seemed to pull her deeper into the wilderness.

She glanced at her phone on the passenger seat. She had barely one bar of signal left. Well, guess we’re really doing this.

She hadn’t seen Megan in over a year. Life had a way of pulling people in different directions, and Megan had always been the adventurous one, while Lena was more… well, comfortable in her routines. But she missed her.

Lena turned onto a dirt road, following the directions Megan had sent her. The road was rougher than she expected, her car bouncing slightly as she maneuvered around potholes.

Ahead, a small clearing opened up, and there was Megan, leaning against an old Jeep, arms crossed, with that same knowing smirk..

Lena grinned, parking beside her. She barely had time to unbuckle before Megan was pulling open the driver’s side door.

“Well, well,” Megan teased. “Look who finally left the city.”

Lena rolled her eyes, stepping out. “Try not to die of shock.”

Megan laughed, pulling her into a tight hug. “You have no idea how happy I am you came.”

Lena hugged her back, smiling despite herself.

Maybe this wouldn’t be so bad after all.

----------------------------------------------------------

Lena had to admit that despite her doubts, the day had been… nice.

Megan had done most of the work setting up camp, of course, while Lena provided moral support in the form of handing her tent poles and asking a million questions about “how the hell people live like this.”

“Seriously, Meg, this is a lot of effort just to sleep outside,” Lena huffed, watching her friend hammer in the last stake.

Megan smirked. “You act like I’m making you start a fire with sticks.”

“I wouldn’t know how to start a fire with sticks,” Lena shot back.

Megan just laughed, shaking her head.

They spent the rest of the afternoon catching up, lounging by the small creek near their campsite. Megan shared stories about her travels, about the weird people she met in hostels, about the time she nearly got stranded in Iceland. Lena, in turn, regaled her with city drama like bad dates, annoying neighbors, the new coffee shop she was pretty sure was laundering money.

It felt good. Like no time had passed since they last saw each other.

By the time night fell, Megan had a small fire going. The air was crisp, and the sky was huge out here, no buildings to block the view. Stars stretched forever.

Lena felt small beneath them.

Maybe Megan had been right. Maybe she did need this.

----------------------------------------------------------

The sound woke Lena first.

A low, unnatural hum, like a whisper moving through the trees. It was faint, but insistent, crawling along her spine and pulling her out of sleep.

She blinked in the darkness, disoriented. The inside of the tent was pitch black.

Then Megan stirred beside her. “Did you hear that?”

Lena swallowed. “Yeah.”

The hum grew louder, vibrating through the ground beneath them. Then they heard a snap.

Something outside the tent.

Then another.

Lena shot up. “Nope. Nope. Not doing this.”

Lena barely had time to react before Megan was unzipping the tent in a frenzy, her flashlight gripped in her shaking hand.

A rush of cold air hit them as they stumbled out into the night.

The fire had burned low, casting long shadows. The trees loomed like silent sentinels, unmoving.

Megan screamed.

Lena spun toward her, heart slamming against her ribs.

Megan’s face was pale, eyes wide with something between terror and confusion. She was pointing.

At her.

“Lena, your hair!”

Lena froze. “What?”

Megan took an unsteady step closer, lifting the flashlight. The beam of light caught the strands of Lena’s hair, and her stomach dropped.

It wasn’t brown anymore.

Pink.

Not just a little, not like some weird lighting trick. Her entire head of hair was vividly pink.

Lena’s breath hitched. “No. No, that’s not possible.”

She ran her hands through it, but it was real. It was real.

Megan grabbed her shoulders. “What the hell is happening?”

Lena couldn’t answer. Her heart was pounding too fast.

The hum was gone now. The woods were silent.

Lena forced herself to breathe. “Okay. Okay. There’s a reason for this….right?”

Megan let out a sharp laugh. “A reason? Lena, your hair changed color! That’s not normal! That’s just. That’s not okay!”

Lena exhaled shakily. “We need to call someone.”

Megan nodded, fumbling for her phone. Lena did the same.  They wouldn’t power on.

Megan’s breathing turned ragged. “Okay. Okay. No big deal. We’ll just…just get in the car and go back to town.”

Lena nodded quickly. “Yeah. Right. Let’s go.”

They sprinted toward their cars, kicking up dirt as they ran. Megan threw open the driver’s side door of her Jeep, and turned the key.

Nothing. Not even a click.

Lena ran to her car and tried.  Nothing.

Megan’s stomach twisted.

Lena’s voice was shaking now. “No. No, no, no. Start, dammit!” She turned the key again. The engine didn’t even try.

Their cars were dead.

They were stuck.

Lena swallowed the lump in her throat.

----------------------------------------------------------

Lena hadn’t slept.

She sat in the tent, arms wrapped around Megan, who had eventually drifted off, exhaustion overtaking her fear. The fire had long since burned out, leaving nothing but the cold and the endless stretch of darkness surrounding them.

But Lena couldn’t close her eyes.

Her head ached—pounded—with a slow, pulsing pain that refused to fade. Every heartbeat sent a wave of pressure through her skull.

She wanted to panic. She should have been panicking.

But somehow, she felt calm. The presence of the forest kept her calm.

She didn’t understand it.

The wind rustled through the trees, carrying the scent of damp earth and pine. The distant chirp of birds signaled the slow approach of dawn. 

When the first light of morning crept through the trees, Lena gently untangled herself from Megan and stood. The cool ground beneath her felt real in a way she couldn’t explain.

Even though she hadn’t slept, she felt awake. Energized.

She needed to do something, anything, to distract herself from the unease curling in her stomach.

She walked over to her car, pressing her palm against the hood before trying the ignition.

Nothing. Again, not even a click.

Okay. Okay, so the cars still weren’t working. She heard a rustling behind her.

She turned just as Megan stirred, rubbing sleep from her eyes.

Then Megan looked up. And screamed. Again.

Lena’s breath caught in her throat. What was it this time?

Megan scrambled backward, eyes locked on her in wide, unfiltered fear.

“Lena. Lena, your…” Megan’s voice cracked.

Lena frowned. “What?”

Megan pointed with a trembling hand. “Your head!”

Lena lifted a hand instinctively and then she felt it. Her fingers ran over something smooth and hard, arching from her scalp.

No.

No, no, no, that wasn’t right.

Her breath came faster, heart hammering against her ribs. She felt the shape of two curved, solid horns growing from her skull.

Panic seized her chest. She turned to the car’s side mirror, leaning in close.

Her face was still her face, but the delicate pink waves of her hair were framed by the unmistakable rise of horns. Black. Solid. Impossible.

Her hands trembled as she touched them again, as if feeling them a second time would make them disappear.

Megan’s voice yanked her back.

“Lena, what the hell is going on?!”

“I don’t know,” Lena whispered. Her throat was dry, her mind racing.

Her head throbbed again. She should have been spiraling. She should have been screaming right alongside Megan.

But then the wind shifted, and the rustling trees filled her ears again and the panic… eased. Not completely, but enough.

Lena inhaled shakily, grounding herself in the sensation of the earth beneath her bare feet, the crisp morning air filling her lungs. The forest around them was vast, endless. So much bigger than her fear.

It didn’t make sense. None of this made any sense.

But one thing was certain, they were stuck and something was very wrong with Blackwood.

----------------------------------------------------------

Lena sat on the log, staring at her hands.  Megan sat beside her, silent for a long time before finally speaking.

“I’m going to look for help.”

Lena didn’t respond right away. She knew it made sense. She knew Megan was right. They couldn’t just stay here, hoping something would magically fix itself. But she had a hard time leaving this site.

“I’ll stay in case someone comes. We don’t want to miss them.”

Megan turned toward her, hesitant. “Okay. I’ll be back soon.”

Lena nodded again, forcing a small, reassuring smile.

Megan didn’t look convinced. But she didn’t argue.

Lena watched her disappear into the trees and sat in the silence.

The forest breathed around her, the air thick with something alive.

Lena clenched her fists, willing herself to focus. She needed to stay put. She needed to wait for Megan, but her feet twitched. The wind seemed to call her name. The earth hummed beneath her, inviting, pulling.

Lena dug her nails into her palms. Stay here. Don’t move.

Her body ached. A deep, restless hunger unfurled inside her, twisting through her bones. She felt wrong sitting still. Like she was fighting something bigger than herself. Like she was meant to enter the woods. To become.

She gritted her teeth, gripping the log beneath her, grounding herself. The pull was so strong. Her breath came fast, ragged. Maybe she should go just a little deeper into the trees. Just to feel the earth beneath her feet, to breathe the air properly.

No!

She squeezed her eyes shut, forcing herself not to move.

Even as the forest whispered.

Even as she felt herself slipping.

Time passed and Lena’s breathing slowed. The ache in her bones, the restless energy surging through her was growing with each passing moment.

She stood up and scanned the campsite and felt repulsed.

The tent. The cars. The scattered gear.

Litter. Trash!

The tent sagged against the dirt, its synthetic fabric an ugly stain against the forest floor. The cooler sat open, plastic wrappers spilling onto the ground. The cars…these hulking, useless machines…were dead things in a living world.

It was wrong. All of it was wrong.

Heat rose in her chest. Her fingers curled into fists.

They had polluted this place. They had invaded it.

Lena’s nails bit into her palms. A low and guttural growl rumbled in her throat.

They needed to leave.

These things needed to be eradicated.

The tent. The cars. The unnatural, foreign filth.

Her lips curled, breath shaky. She wanted to tear it all down. Burn it. Rip it apart. Erase every trace of it.

Her muscles tensed. Her pulse pounded.

She wanted to. She needed to.

----------------------------------------------------------

Megan stumbled through the underbrush, branches snapping under her boots as she ran. Her chest burned, her breaths coming in short, panicked gasps.

She had been so sure she would find help. A road, a ranger station…something. But there was nothing.

No signs of other people. No trails leading out. Just the endless stretch of trees, thick and suffocating, pressing in on all sides.

And now she was back. She broke through the treeline and froze. The campsite was gone.

The tent lay in tatters, ripped open like an animal had torn through it. The cooler was shattered, its contents strewn across the ground. But the worst. The worst was the cars.

Both vehicles were wrecked. Dented, scratched, crushed like something massive had stomped them down. The windshields were shattered, the doors twisted at unnatural angles.

Megan’s stomach lurched. “What… what happened?” she whispered.

Then she saw her. Lena stood at the center of the destruction, her bare feet sinking into the earth like she was part of it.

Her pink hair was wild, cascading over her shoulders, glowing under the dim forest light. Her horns had grown, thick and curved like an animal’s. Her skin shimmered, luminous and inhuman.

And her wings. Dark, leathery things unfurled behind her, stretching.

Her eyes were black pits with only the faintest glimmer of something else lurking beneath.

Something hungry.

Megan gasped. “Lena…?”

Lena tilted her head, studying her like one might a dying thing on the side of the road.

Megan swallowed hard. “We… we need to go.”

Lena’s lips curled into something that wasn’t a smile.

“I am home.”

Megan took a slow step back. “No, this isn’t you. You’re not…”

“I was,” Lena cut in, voice smooth, sharp. “But she’s gone now.”

Megan’s heart pounded against her ribs.

Lena took a step forward.

“The forest showed me the truth.” Lena’s voice was calm, but firm. “We were never supposed to be here. Humans. Destroyers. You taint the land.”

Megan’s breath hitched. “Lena… listen to yourself.”

Lena took a slow step forward.

“I am listening,” she said. “I hear it. The trees, the roots, the very earth beneath us. This place was never meant for people like you.”

Megan clenched her fists, fighting the shake in her hands. “I don’t know what’s happened to you, but I’m your friend.”

Lena’s face darkened.

“No.” She tilted her head, those blackened eyes narrowing. “You’re an invader.”

Megan stepped back, her foot crunching over broken branches. “We came here together. We didn’t mean to do anything wrong!”

Lena laughed softly, almost pitying. “That’s what they always say. We didn’t mean to pollute. We didn’t mean to destroy.” She gestured to the ruins of their campsite. “But you do. You consume. You build. You take and take and take.”

“Lena, please,” she whispered, voice cracking.

Lena inhaled deeply, eyes fluttering shut for a moment, like she was drinking in the air. When they reopened, something feral flickered behind them.

“The air is cleaner without your machines,” she mused. “The earth is softer without your footsteps.”

Megan’s heart pounded. “You can’t stay out here!”

Lena smirked. “Watch me.”

Megan shook her head frantically. “No, no, no—this isn’t you!”

Lena’s eyes sharpened.

Megan backed away. She had lost her best friend. What stood in front of her was primal. Dangerous.

Lena watched her move, her expression unreadable.

“You want to run,” Lena murmured. “I can smell it.”

Megan’s breath hitched.

“Fear,” Lena mused, stepping closer. “The kind that animals feel when they know they’re about to die.”

Megan turned to run, but Lena was faster.

A blur of movement. A rush of wind.

Megan barely had time to scream before Lena pounced.

[yingfelis]

Killer love

Angel x Reader

“You’re really weird y’know.”

You looked up, your eyes meeting Angel’s as you gave her a curious look.

“Care to elaborate?” Angel just giggled as you just stared cluelessly at her.

“Look at what you’ve doing right now and tell me you’re normal with a straight face.” Angel’s voice teasing with a hint of fondness as you remembered what exactly what you were doing.

You looked back down as you rubbed a damp towel into the palm of her hand, getting rid of the blood that had previously covered her skin. “Wasn’t saying I was normal, just wondering what finally got you to say something.”

Angel chuckled as she moved her (now clean) hand to grab your wrist, and brought your hand (holding the towel) to her cheek. Said cheek which was spattered in blood you immediately started to wipe off.

“Well for one, normal people don’t gently wipe off the blood on a serial killer’s face after they’ve just killed someone.”

“Normal people don’t tend to knowingly date serial killers” you retorted as you finished cleaning the blood off her face, leaving a small kiss on the corner of the blonde’s mouth to solidify your point.

Angel’s cheeks sparked a light pink as the sudden affection, “You don’t go easy on the heart… but touché”

Angel shifted and rested her head on your shoulder, letting out a deep sigh. It wasn’t done out of annoyance or anything, it was as if she just finally let herself relax.

“Are you sure you’re not secretly a murder?”

“I’m not.”

“Not even the tiny bit murderous?”

“That…” you had to take a pause as you thought back to the first night you saw Angel in person. Covered in the blood of her previous asshole of a manager, the manager you encouraged her to kill.

“That’s… debatable. But I still haven’t technically killed anyone.”

The girl beside you let out a laugh as she seemed to lean her body on you more. “I’m not sure whether to call you incredibly brave or incredibly stupid. I mean sure accidentally getting onto a serial killer is one thing… but staying for as long as you have now is another.”

It’s true. You could have left at anytime. You thought about leaving many times. You should have left a long time ago. Before you involved yourself so much with these people.

But you never could for some reason.

You blamed it on your book, your whole obsession with writing to the point of throwing your life away. Going as far as you view your life as nothing but secret story waiting to be transferred onto a page. A viewpoint that was probably nowhere near healthy and basically what got you into this mess in the first place.

But you knew it wasn’t only that.

It hasn’t been that reason for a long time.

You turned to face the girl next to you. She looked back at you with expecting eyes and the most relaxed expression on her face you knew you were one of the only few to have the privilege of seeing.

Angel, The Heartsick Angel, Maria De La Rosa

You muttered something under your breath. Barely audible that just escaped comprehension but was there nonetheless. And as Angel’s— no… not in this instance. Not right now with you you cut your own thoughts off, as Maria’s lips parted to ask what you said, you already silenced her with your own.

Right the reason you stayed…

You leaned back, your hand gently cradling Maria’s cheek as you looked into her light blue eyes. She truly looked so angelic in this moment, you couldn’t help the words stumbling out of your mouth

“My muse…”

You whispered on her lips before she pulled you back in for another kiss.

[shes-an-oddbird]

WIP Wednesday - The Suncatcher

Thank you @annoyingcloudearthquake for tagging me! I've been working on this fic for actual years now, since the end of season 3, and I'd really love to finish it as a sort of thank you now that the show is ending. Unfortunately it's one of those fics that has grown out of control and has multiple main characters, alternating povs and is nowhere near done but I made fun little moodboards for each character to help motivate me to finish and thought I would share them and a little snippet with each. Fair warning the story was inspired by my niche obsession with Cirque du Soleil and an odd fascination with Las Vegas.

Summary: When a wealthy group of investors decides to save a struggling Las Vegas hotel, The Suncatcher, former performers Owen and Tommy are asked to revive their first Cirque show and turn it into the must-see attraction on the iconic strip. Together they recruit a misfit group of artists who deserve a second chance at the high-flying circus life and are determined to put on the best show they can even when they run into obstacles around every corner.

Neon - A Night in Las Vegas TK Strand - The Visitor - Aerial Straps/Duo Straps Artist

'The sun sets and a first time visitor falls in love with the heart of the city itself '

He passes Jonah’s door and moves towards the kitchen, stopping again when he hears voices.

“So what do you think?” To TK’s surprise it’s his dad’s voice. He didn’t even know his dad was in town.

“I think-I think you ask very good questions Owen Strand.” His mom answers. “I mean I have complete faith that he could do it, physically he’s there, mentally he’s there – “

“But – “ His dad asks and the long pause that follows makes his gut twist uncomfortably. But what?

“Emotionally I think he’s getting there,” Gwyn finally says, “Alex may have set him back a little bit.”

Alex? Why would they be talking about Alex? Why were they talking about him at all?

“Doing a show would get him out of New York, might be good for him, a way to move on?”

“Yes, but to do a show in Las Vegas of all the places, and a love story at that, especially this love story.” His mom reasons, pouring out all her concerns at once.

He hears a small amused scoff from his dad. “He’s a grown man Gwyn, surely he’s come to terms with the divorce by now.”

“I’m sure he has but it’s a bit more complicated than that, he’s always loved love but it’s never been very kind to him in return.”

“Maybe this time it will be.” Owen urges. “It’s an opportunity to start over, to try again.”

There is a long pause. TK debates whether he should round the corner to the kitchen, back track to his room or stay put in hopes of more information. His dad was talking about a show. It had been a long time since he performed although he’d be lying if he said he didn’t want to get back at it. Nothing really compared when your old day job title could be simplified to circus performer.

“He always did love Neon, it would be nice for him to have that back.” Her voice is wistful now but his gut clenches once more at the name.

Neon. As is Neon, Neon. The old Cirque show he’s spent hours of his young life absorbed in? The show where his parents fell in love both in real life and in front of the audience every night? They wanted him to be a part of that Neon.

“So you think I should ask him?” Owen asks.

“I think you already did, good morning TK.” TK flinches. She knew he was there the whole time. He’s not surprised, his mom always could see through walls, but damn does he wish he could have had a minute longer to process everything.

[thethreeeyed-raven]

Hi !!! First I wanna say that I love the aesthetic of ur account it’s so pretty and nicely put together I’m obsessed. Second, I was wondering if I could request something for a Legolas x half elf reader where the reader is very like, unladylike, and doesn’t follow elven traditions ?? Like she’s very brash, flirts with lots of people, drinks a lot, doesn’t really have any of that elegance or poise that he’s used to when it comes to eleven girls and is a extremely good fighter. She’s a trusted friend of Gandalf and he brings her to the council of Elrond and she joins the fellowship and all dat.

Ok I’m done sorry if that’s too detailed feel free to not write it if you don’t want to, don’t want you to feel pressured to jus cause I asked 😅

i think you are beautiful

navigation | warnings : gimlis a little bitch, a little bit of angst? a little bit of gimli/dwarf slander😭 | a/n : if this isn’t what you want then i’m sorry😭, also of the elvish is wrong PLEASE LMK i literally used an sindarin, i kind of forgot about the flirty part and half elf part, but it’s mentioned a little bit, i asp used british slang for ‘hello’ IM BRITISH | lotr masterlist | tags : @knight-of-flowerss @lost-in-fiction-like-ur-mom

Legolas hadn't expected to see you at Elrond's secret meeting.

He didn't even know you knew Gandalf. Well, he didn't know much about you at all really. Of course, Legolas has seen you before, with the adventures he went on with Aragorn and what not, he was hardly ever seen around Lothlórien, and he was sure you were too.

But when you entered the circle of middle-earth creatures with your eccentric aura and manly stance, he thought of you intriguing.

"Another bloody elf?!" Gimli explained in disgust.

Legolas turned to the dwarf seated beside him, opening his mouth ready to throw a remark back when you interrupted.

"Well you are in the Rivendell, dwarf. If you are willing to help with the destruction of the ring, you must watch your tongue, before I cut it out." You threw him a smirk, and watched as Gimli shrunk back in his seat.

"Y/n! I've been expecting you for quite some time." Gandalf made his way over and enveloped you into a hug, which you reciprocated.

"You did show up in the middle of nowhere when I was trying to fish, you owe me a pint, don't forget."

You patted his back and made you way over to an empty chair, which was ironically beside Legolas.

"Oreyt there Legolas?" You patted his shoulder and look towards Elrond. "Let's get on with it then!"

It had been about a week since you and the fellowship had attended Elrond's secret council meeting, and since then, you hadn't really bonded with anyone like everyone else had, though you thoroughly enjoyed flirting.

You knew Aragorn already had his heart set on Arwen, Gimli couldn't stand you (you found it funny to rile him up).

Legolas was your favourite to tease.

He wasn't used to your heavy drinking, swordsmanship, the way your eyes glistened in the moonlight...

You weren't at all what he had thought.

You had a kind heart. And your beauty went beyond those of the other elven women.

And Gimli made sure to point out that you were different.

"Are you sure you're not a man?"

You turned around to look at him, holding back a frown.

"Wait, you're not a man?" Pippin chimed in, finally causing the frown to appear and you started to walk ahead of Gandalf. "Did I say something wrong?"

Nearly an hour later, you all had found a place to rest, yet you didn't talk throughout the whole way through.

Legolas and Aragorn were relieving themselves of their weapons when Legolas peered over at you who stood in the far corner away from everyone else, but near enough for you to hear him insult Gimli.

"I norn na- an imbecile." He placed his arrows next to his bow and Aragorn turned to look at him.

"Whui ceri- cin eithad Gimli? Does ha gar- something na ceri- with ui/n?" Aragorn questioned him.

"-o iór ha does! How berth- ho ask hen such a nad! At least with ammen galadrim mín know what mín are!"

Gimli looked up at Boromir who wasn't paying any mind to the rather loud conversation they were having.

"What are the elf and the man speaking about?"

Boromir just shrugged. "I don't know, I don't speak Sindarin.

You, having understood their conversation, smiled a little to yourself, happy that at least someone here would defend you.

You sat quietly beside a lake, inspecting the flora surrounding you, when you heard footsteps.

You swung your body round, placing your hand on the blade strapped to your leg.

The sound revealed itself to be Legolas. "There you are, Gandalf sent me to make sure you weren't missing."

You nodded and motioned him to sit next to you.

"You were being rather loud with Aragorn earlier." You chuckled as you watched a red tint spread across Legolas' cheeks. "Thank you."

Legolas nodded in acknowledgment and he was about to stand up when you grabbed ahold of his hand.

Your hand was rough, no doubt from the countless weapons you have wielded or practised with.

"Legolas, do you think I'm pretty?"

He was taken aback by your sudden question.

Since you were little you had struggled with femininity. Your hobbies were 'un-ladylike', your looks were considered to be 'manly'.

The silence was too loud, too long. So you took that as a no.

"I think you are beautiful. And I think you're too good for anyone here." He sat back down next to you. "Not only are your combat skills exceptional, but the way you carry yourself outshines any of the elvish women. They can't compete."

You moved closer, until your pinky was touching his.

"I may not know you that well, I've hardly ever seen you around Rivendell or any of the elven parts for that matter, and quite frankly, I couldn't care less if you were half elf, or half dwarf, or half whatever. I've still admired you from afar-"

You shut him up with a quick kiss to his lips.

Aragorn watched further away from the bushes, shaking his head with a grin, then going to tell Gandalf that you were safe.

"Im like cin verui limb legolas, a im gar- admired cin o palan too."

ELVISH TRANSLATION

‘I norn na- an imbecile’ - the dwarf is an imbecile

‘Whui ceri- cin eithad Gimli?’ - why do you insult Gimli?

‘Does ha gar- something na ceri- with ui/n?’ - does it have something to do with Y/n?

‘-o iór ha does! How berth- ho ask hen such a nad! At least with ammen galadrim mín know what mín are!’ - of course it does! how dare he ask her such a thing! at least with us elves we know what we are!

‘Im like cin verui limb legolas, a im gar- admired cin o palan too’ - i like you very much legolas, and i have admired you from afar too

[glassica]

The Love Rival

Notes: wlw, toxic yuri, transmigration, magic, obsessiveness, possessiveness, accidental kid-napping, one-sided love, drugging

Gina barely finished the book before seeing herself getting shoved into it to play the role of the female lead. It wasn’t bad, she told herself. The novel was romcom, and for the most part it was full of tooth-rottening sweetness and little banters between Holly, the female lead, with her lover Julian. All Gina needed to do was replicating all the scenes and dialogues happening insides the book and she was good to go. There were trials and obstacles testing the love of the young lovebirds, but Gina concluded only the love rival Elise was worth watching out.

Elise, the love rival in question, was an embodiment of that stereotypical mean girl getting in the way of the main couple. Initially Holly’s best friend, their relationship soon fell apart after the heroine started getting more and more involved with the male lead, which some believed to be Elise’s target. She was a particularly irritating character, always interrupted the couple’s private moments with her childish antics. One time she deliberately fake an illness so Holly had to postponed the date with Julian. Another time she convinced Holly’s parents to let her daughter be escorted everyday by Elise’s carriage, thus preventing the late night trysts her best friend often go with that gentleman. But Gina was confident she could handle this. If anything, she had it easier than other unfortunate transmigrators who were forced to play the roles of villains, her biggest obstacle was only dealing with a petty love rival… or so she thought.

“Lady Elise… Why would you do this to me?... What have I done wrong?”

Gina kneeled down, her head spinning like crazy and eyes started getting blurry. Besides her was a cup of some saccharine-smelled purple liquid spilling all over the altar. When the heart within thumping louder and faster and her breathing began to feel like a chore, Gina could vaguely sense this was the end for her.

Elise’s chuckle was cold, the kind of laughter of a ruthless villain lavished in the madness of their scheme unfolding just as their wish. Well, of course she would, the villainess’s revenge was nearing its final stage.

“Oh, you sure did. You’ve done me wrong. Very, very wrong. Something unforgivable.”

The noblewoman gritted teeth furiously. Her azure eyes normally compared to calming waves of ocean, now resembled the endless raging tsunami determined to swallow whole that defenseless figure into its pit bottom. Gina couldn’t believe the cold-blooded monster right in front of her, whom there was a time, had been the dearest friend to the owner of this body. Was jealousy really that nasty of an emotion to completely erased all those years of good rapport between two young ladies?

Silence downinng the empty church’s atmosphere. Lurking underneath was a sense of dread and bloodlust emanating from the crazy antagonist just served to suffocate further the tormented heroine. Gina hadn’t uttered a single word back, her only goal at this moment was to try catching breath.

“Stop that half-hearted act, will you? I’m getting nauseous already from seeing you imitating my precious friend.”

Gina’s mind, which had been clouded and hazy from the drink, miraculously clear again from the shock. How did she know? Was Lady Elise all this time aware about another soul possessing her old friend’s body? So all this time the one Her Ladyship desire wasn’t the male lead but Holly herself?

“You’re a fraud. A poser. You tried clumsily to mimick the manners and attitude of my dear friend, but you could never be her. Yes, no one. Absolutely no one could ever replace my Holly. Absolutely no one could take her away from me.”

“Those annoying geezers were right. I should’ve consulted a proper wizard instead of hastily attempted a spell when having no experience with sorcery. Now not only I still haven’t own Holly’s heart, some stupid wench out of nowhere possessinng and ruining her body.”

“So you’re the reason behind my situation!” - Gina hissed. “How could you put the blame on me when all of this mess was all from your own misdeed!?”

“Oh sweetheart, do not worry. That’s exactly why I brought you here today! To right all my wrong.”

Elise kneeled down, taking the final look at the trembling figure in front of her. Deep down, she did feel sorry for the unassuming soul who was unfairly involved in this tumultuous one-sided love, but soon Her Ladyship snapped right back. No, she needed to look out for her beloved only, this dummy wasn’t worth getting swayed over.

“Soon enough, your soul will exit this body to make room for the rightful owner’s back. I’ll have Holly all to myself and you get see your old world again. Isn’t that a great deal? Considering this as my apology for making you suffer unjustly, Gina.”

[cal-daisies-and-briars]

Hiiiii cal!!! I’m so glad you’re enjoying writing this way because I love getting to read these snippets - it’s like a bunch of mini cliffhangers that prompt my imagination to go wild and it’s so much fun!! I’ll be sending emojis for as long as you’re wanting them!

⚡️⚡️⚡️⚡️⚡️⚡️⚡️⚡️⚡️⚡️⚡️⚡️⚡️⚡️⚡️⚡️⚡️⚡️⚡️⚡️⚡️⚡️⚡️(they’re getting a house! And about to get married!!! And i might be misremembering but i don’t think you’ve done a detailed buddie wedding in any of your fics yet? I’m very excited to see how you do it!!)

🚨🚨🚨🚨🚨🚨🚨🚨🚨🚨🚨🚨🚨🚨🚨🚨🚨(the shenanigans and tomfoolery of being bad at hiding a secret relationship… it amuses me so!)

🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸(as i’ve said many times before, my love for this fic goes beyond words!! And you’re venturing into truly riveting territory here i’m so pumped!!)

🔮🔮🔮🔮🔮🔮🔮🔮🔮🔮(my heart breaks for babby - my typo for baby bobby and i’m keeping it - my dear sweet babby)

🧟🧟🧟🧟🧟🧟🧟🧟🧟🧟🧟🧟🧟🧟🧟🧟🧟🧟🧟🧟🧟(i can already feel this one becoming my new obsession! Idk why i thought it was going to be something shorter when you first started posting about it but i was thrilled to see that anticipated chapter count on ao3!)

👑👑👑👑👑👑👑👑👑👑👑👑(islands in the stream has been stuck in my head all day and i blame you! I’m so looking forward to the madney sweetness!)

🔼🔼🔼🔼🔼🔼🔼🔼🔼🔼(oh my god cal the angst! It’s angsting!)

💐💐💐💐💐💐💐💐💐💐💐(huge fan of mays crush being named april - it makes me giggle every time)

🦮🦮🦮🦮🦮🦮🦮🦮🦮🦮🦮🦮🦮🦮🦮(cranberry my baby! And the covidness of it all is so vivid - i’m loving the buck-chris dynamic!)

I never count the amount of emojis i type as i go so i’m always a bit shocked at how many sentences i’ve requested of you when you post the reply 😬 thank you so much for putting up with my crazy requests it brings me such joy!

I hope you have a lovely weekend and week!!

SO AS I WAS FILLING THIS OUT MY FUCKING LAPTOP CRASHED. WHICH SUCKS BECAUSE IT HAS TAKEN ME HOURS AND HOURS ACROSS TWO DAYS. FUCK. Let's see if I can find the sentences I wrote again.

For TWATYTK and Zombies, those parts have already been posted, because as I said, this was taking so long. GAH!

I had a whole message typed out about how much I appreciate you. You are so kind! IT'S LOST TO TIME NOW.

I think this was what I had for ⚡️:

---

Their next call is to the scene of a fire. 

This should not be especially eventful, considering that they are firefighters and all. And, for the drive there, it isn’t. The transit process? Just fine. 

It’s the rest that sends Buck into a tailspin. 

He spends the ride seated next to Eddie, thighs touching. They’re back being partnered together. Sadie earned her shield a couple months back, and has been working as Ravi’s partner since. Buck is pretty proud of her - and himself, for training her. He liked working with her a lot. But he’s happy to be back where he belongs, in terms of workplace duos. 

Buck and Eddie - okay, mostly Buck - talk everyone’s ear off about the house for the time it takes them to get to the fire. They should possibly be a little less giddy headed towards an actual three alarm fire, but at that point, Buck thinks his mood simply can’t be shaken. How naive. 

It is perhaps due to this focus on the house, which is nowhere near the direction they’re headed in to get to this fire, that Buck doesn’t realize what is in the direction of the fire. In his defense, neither does anyone else! Not even Eddie! Even Bobby, who knows better where they’re going, doesn’t put the pieces together. 

Maybe it’s because they spend so much time driving around the city. Here and there. Fires and car accidents and medical emergencies everywhere. Everywhere looks familiar! They could all be city tour guides. It’s not like driving through a city where you only know a few places, so the places you know feel like beacons.

Or Buck is just making excuses for his lack of attention. Either way. 

Really, it’s not until they turn onto the street that Buck notices. Though, it’s a long road, and they’re still a few miles out. 

“This is weird,” Buck says. 

“What is?” Sadie asks. She’s sitting across from him. Noticing his sudden onslaught of nerves. 

“We’re on the same street as the wedding venue.”’

That makes Eddie look. He’d been typing a rather long message to his mother and not paying much attention to where they’re going. At Buck’s words, his attention snaps to the window.

“Shit, you’re right.” 

Well, obviously Buck knows he’s right. 

“Bobby,” he asks. “What’s the address of where we’re going?”

“Uh, it is…” Bobby reads. “Oh.”

“Oh?” Buck repeats. He grabs Eddie’s arm. “Oh? Oh, what?”

“Okay, well first let’s remember we don’t know how bad it is yet,” Bobby says, maintaining a steady facade. 

“Bobby, it’s a three-alarm fire!” Buck exclaims, voice raising an octave.

“And the wedding is in days,” Eddie adds, voice wavering with stress. “There’s no time to do any repairs, even if it’s not totally ruined.”

Days. Days. What the fuck are they going to do?

“Okay, let’s not jump to any conclusions. Technically, the address is for the building next door,” Bobby explains. “Everything might be fine.”

Everything is not fine. Quite the opposite, in fact. 

Two minutes after his painstaking revelation, Buck finds himself standing next to his fiancé on the street in front of their wedding venues, watching it plume with smoke. The wind blew the flames from the building next to it, and the roof caught. It won’t fare as badly as the other building, but it certainly won’t be available for their wedding. 

They are getting married.

In three days. 

Their wedding is in three days. 

Their wedding is in three days and has no venue. 

Because their venue is burning right in front of him. 

Their venue was also their caterer, so add that to the fucking fire. 

“Buck! Eddie!” Bobby calls. “Work first, react later!”

Easy for him to say! It’s not his wedding venue! 

“Come on.” Eddie tugs on his turnouts. “We’ve got to go.”

Buck feels like he’s been possessed by a heap of barbed wire. 

He turns his head to Eddie. His eyes are bugged out so wide they might pop from his head. An absurd but sticky thought pops into his head. 

“You jinxed us,” Buck accuses. 

“Buck!” Eddie complains.

---

And 🚨:

---

“Okay, that makes sense. Was it his family?”

Buck nods. “They were religious. Conservative. Southern.”

“I can relate,” Eddie tells him. 

“Eventually, I just wanted to be able to relax, though,” Buck says. “I made him promise we’d do it at the end of the tour. Not to his family. Just, to friends… And in public.”

Eddie’s expression softens as he realizes.

“And then he died.”

“Yeah.” 

And then he died. 

“I’m so sorry,” Eddie exhales.

Buck shakes his head. His eyes start to sting. 

“It’s stupid, Eddie. I know there’s no logic behind it. It just feels like once something is out loud, it can be taken away.”

Eddie nods, understanding the thought process. 

“We both know I can’t promise you I won’t spontaneously die,” he says. “Especially in a global pandemic.”

“I know,” Buck nods. 

“But, uh…” Eddie sighs. “It’s like you said when I was worried about Chris, right? I’ll just have to prove it to you.”

“Prove it to me?” Buck asks.

“Yeah,” Eddie nods. “I’ll just prove that we get to have a life together. Even if we’re both a little bit scared of dying.”

“I’m scared of you dying,” Buck reminds him. 

“Okay, well we’re at an equal risk, so… Not the point, actually. Buck, the point is, I’ll show you every day, alright?” Eddie promises. “We get to have this.”

Buck takes a deep breath. He leans forward in bed and grabs Eddie’s hand. 

“I don’t know if I’d believe anyone else,” he says quietly. 

Eddie shuffles up the mattress, closer to Buck.

“Believe me,” he says. 

“Okay,” Buck relents. “But only because you’re very pretty.”

Eddie smirks. “It’s a gift.”

“Mmm, or a trick.”

Eddie chuckles and kisses his temple, right beside the birthmark. 

“I love you,” he says. “That’s not going anywhere, okay?”

“Okay,” Buck breathes. 

He decides to try his best to believe him. 

---

And the 90 sentences I wrote for this damn 🩸:

---

But it does show Buck what she’s up to. 

It kind of makes him mad, actually. Eddie has gone to such intense, devastating lengths to hide himself. Meanwhile, his attacker has been out here, just living life. Posting about walks through the park and her latest baking experiment. How is that fucking fair? 

It’s not. 

It’s not fair. 

And while Buck knows what he has to do isn’t fair either - isn’t right or human or good - he tries to keep that in mind. 

She ruined Eddie’s life. Twice. She didn’t have to do that. Now, what choice does Buck have? 

February 10th, 2025

Eddie does something on Monday that he perhaps should not do. Something the tiniest bit risky. After his call with Adriana, he’s feeling that a bit of risk taking to get his life back where it needs to be is necessary. And anyway, he’s not doing anything illegal. Not doing anything wrong. Nothing he can be arrested for. 

He’s picking his son up from school. 

Chris pauses, exiting Durand School to see Eddie in the driver’s seat of the truck. His eyes widened with nerves for a moment. Eddie felt a rush of guilt. He doesn’t want to make Chris worry. Doesn’t want to cause any undue stress. He just wants to feel like a normal dad again, picking his kid up from school. 

But then Chris breaks out into a wide grin, and Eddie feels his whole body relax. 

“You came!” Chris exclaims, surprised, when he reaches the vehicle. 

Eddie climbs out to help him into the front seat. Not that Chris needs a lot of help anymore. Mostly just someone to hold his crutches and bag. 

“I did,” Eddie confirms. He tries to keep his voice even. 

“You’re not worried?” 

“No,” Eddie says. “Well, maybe a little. But I’m not doing anything I’m not allowed to do.”

Chris thinks about this. “I’m glad you came today.”

“Me too,” Eddie decides. “Do you want to grab ice cream or something on the way home?”

Chris narrows his eyes. “I’m not a little kid, remember?”

“Jeez, I didn’t know ice cream had an age limit,” Eddie frowns. “Buck will be devastated to hear this. You know how seriously he takes his Neapolitan.”

Chris smirks. “Fine. Okay. I want ice cream.”

Eddie grins. “Thought so.”

Fifteen minutes later, they’re sitting on a little patio, under the shade of an umbrella. Eddie is in the darkest seat, also covered by sunglasses and a hat. Chris sits in the sunshine, spooning strawberry ice cream from a little paper bowl. 

“So, I wanted to run an idea by you,” Eddie says. 

“Me?” Chris asks. 

“Yeah, you. Who else?”

“I don’t know,” Chris shrugs. “What is it?”

“Well, I think I need to get a job,” Eddie says. 

“But you can’t be a firefighter,” Chris fills in.

“No,” Eddie says. “I don’t think I can.”

“So, then what?” 

“Well, May suggested I look into telehealth services. Like a hotline for medical advice or something,” Eddie says. 

Chris nods. “You’d be good at that.”

“Thank you,” Eddie replies. “But, uh, I did a little research and I think I found something different that suits me even better.”

“What is it?”

“Well, there’s this nonprofit that operates out of Los Angeles looking for people with medical experience. Nurses. Doctors. Paramedics.” 

“Like a charity?” Chris asks. 

“Yeah, but I’d get paid,” Eddie says. “It’s a job. Bringing emergency medical care to people who maybe don’t feel safe to call for help.” 

“Like… You?” Chris whispers the last part. 

“Yeah, but not just like me,” Eddie explains. “All kinds of people. People facing deportation. Homeless people. People who can’t afford an ambulance ride. Stuff like that.”

---

This is easier to count again haha 🔮:

---

Buck wakes up with his cheek pressed into the bannister support poles of Bobby’s apartment stairwell. He can feel their imprint as he woozily pulls his upper body upright. His head is pounding and he feels vaguely nauseous. Almost like he’s been drugged. Though, the comedown when they’d been spiked with LSD had been far more gradual than the sudden, brutal snap back to reality that had been whatever that was. 

Not a coma, he realizes. If he’s sitting in the stairwell to Bobby’s apartment, not a hospital room, then it wasn’t a coma dream. Kind of an insane regular dream, though? And why had he passed out in the first place?

Acutely aware he won’t find any answers here, parked on his ass, Buck pulls himself to his feet. Slowly, and gripping the bannister for support, just in case, he straightens out his body. His legs give a little wobble. 

What the fuck happened to him?

Partway down the stairs, Buck looks up and down. Should he go out to the Jeep and risk driving home? Feeling like this? He supposes he could call Eddie. Eddie would come for him, no questions asked. He knows he could ask Bobby for help, too. No matter what just happened between them. But his brain is battling two contradictory memories; the fight he had with Bobby in the kitchen and the memory he somehow intruded on of Bobby at his father’s funeral. If that was even real. The easy thing to do would be to go downstairs and call Eddie, not deal with any of it. Hold onto the only thing he knows really happened. 

With a sigh, Buck turns and climbs the stairs. Up towards Bobby’s. 

The moment his foot hits the landing on Bobby’s floor, Buck sees the breathless, similarly disoriented face of his captain jogging down the hallway. He looks pale. Hair a little mussed. Half his face is red, like it’s been pressed against something, too. 

---

A bunch for this guy here 🧟:

---

“May is awake and lucid,” she says. “She’s asking for you.”

Athena grabs one of Hen’s hands and squeezes it. 

“Thank you. Thank you.” 

Then she hurries off in the direction of her daughter’s sickroom. 

Hen doesn’t go after her. She waits, lingering, to speak with Bobby. 

“Did you find Michael?” She asks. 

Bobby shakes his head slightly. 

“It looks like he was infected in the initial outbreak or sometime soon after.”

Hen’s shoulder sag. “Damn it. Poor Athena. Poor kids.” 

Bobby nods. He doesn’t know what else to say. Yes. It’s horrendous. Everything is always so horrendous and everyone’s families are always dying. 

“We should ask her to stay,” Hen says quietly. “She’s a friend. We trust her. The kids will be good for Denny.”

Bobby knows they have enough food to stretch to more than just the three of them. Plus, more hands means more potential to harvest more. Fish more. Preserve more. 

“It’s not just my decision,” Bobby says. “We’ll have to discuss it as a group.”

“No, but it’ll go whatever way you want it to go,” Hen says. “You know that.”

He does. 

“I think it’s a good idea, Hen. But I want everyone’s input.” 

“Like you did with the radio?” She asks.

Bobby raises his eyebrows in surprise. “Buck told you?”

“Oh, yes.” She says. “Wanted to get ahead of it, I guess.”

“Do you think I did the wrong thing?” Bobby asks. 

Hen might be the only person he’s willing to ask this of. The only person whose answer he really wants to know. 

“No,” she says. “I don’t think you did the wrong thing. But I’m worried about him anyway.”

“Me too, Hen.” Bobby admits.

He’s always worried about Buck. All the time. Every minute. Even when Buck hasn’t done anything deserving of Buck’s worry. 

One day, Buck is going to finally let himself realize they’re all dead. Maddie. Abby. Every person he knew and loved before this. He’ll realize they’re all gone. And Bobby worries, every moment, that it will destroy him. He worries he won’t find a reason to keep pushing forward.

---

A few here 👑:

---

Chim finally gets a chance to talk to Hen about it, privately, somewhere around four in the morning. They’re in the ambulance, driving back from yet another party gone wrong that resulted in a hospital transport. At least this time no one puked. Just a badly broken ankle from a drunken trampoline adventure. 

“So you forgot to get her number,” Hen says. “Can’t you go back?”

“Stroll up to a gated mansion tomorrow and say, ‘hi, I’m the guy who kissed your daughter while you were trying to set her up with rich hedge fund types?’ I don’t think so, Hen.”

“She’s probably trying to find your information, too,” Hen tries. 

“I hope,” Chim grumbles. 

“And, hey, you’re very findable on social media,” Hen adds. “She won’t have trouble.”

“Should I message her brother?” Chim asks. “Is that crazy? He was nice!”

“Mmm, maybe wait until you’ve slept for all forms of communication,” Hen advises. “She knows you’re at work, anyway. She won’t be expecting to hear from you.”

“Right. Right. You’re so smart. Why are you so smart?”

“I had a nap in the bunk room while you were at the party.”

Damn. Yeah. A nap would make him sharper. 

“So, it’s just a waiting game for now,” Chim sighs. This is not helping with the resounding feeling that he may, in fact, be a complete fool.

“I think so,” Hen agrees. “Sorry, Chim.”

👑👑👑

By some stroke of fate, he’s not waiting very long. 

When they park the ambulance in the engine bay and climb out, sore and tired, Chim is met with the sound of a strangely familiar voice. One he thinks he may just be hallucinating. 

“You’re the captain? That’s so cool!” He hears. “That means you’ve been doing this forever, right? You know a lot about it?”

---

OKAY BACK TO OUR REGULARLY SCHEDULED PROGRAMMING! THAT IS WHERE MY LAPTOP ABANDONED ME.

30 for 🔼:

---

She accepts the cards she’s been dealt, just like last time. After all, didn’t she shuffle the deck?

She sees her son as much as she can. She goes back to her office admin job as soon as she’s able. She misses Eddie’s shield ceremony. His request. She avoids his parents while they’re in town altogether. Her choice. 

Other than coworkers, she really has no adults to see. Compounded with that, she and Eddie have made the decision not to tell family - even Christopher - until her second trimester. So Shannon finds herself existing in this strange vacuum of silence. Again, one of her own making. But difficult to navigate nonetheless. 

That changes about seven weeks after her accident. Completely unintentionally, she might add. 

None of it was ever a plan in her head. 

She’s been seeing a physical therapist for her shoulder. Her ankle has healed on an intended timeline, not causing her much additional trouble. Her shoulder, on the other hand, has been a source of difficulty. Perhaps with everything else changing in her body, it can’t quite figure itself out. It wouldn’t be the only thing. 

She’s thirteen weeks along now. Almost at that second trimester mark. Almost at the point where not only will they be able to tell people, but they’ll have to. Namely their son. She’s not really showing per say, but she certainly feels bigger and tighter. Her chest is another matter entirely. 

So, to paint the picture, there she is; thirteen weeks pregnant with a man whose trust she shattered, shoulder hardly functional, sitting in the waiting room of her physical therapist in loose sweats and her baggiest tee shirt because nothing fits her boobs properly anymore, and who walks in? Or hobbles in, rather? Her soon-to-be-ex-husband’s best friend. 

---

33 for 💐 (YEAH THANKS I THOUGHT APRIL WAS FUNNY):

---

She orders a wine spritzer. April orders a cider. They sit in a corner booth and for a good few minutes, it’s awkward as hell. Neither of them really seems to know where to start. Which makes sense, because they didn’t exactly have any solid communication foundations to begin with. May is reminded, strangely, of the time Sue left her and Claudette to sort out their issues in the quiet room, right before the fire at Dispatch. Not that she thinks this will end the same way, obviously. 

“Listen,” May starts after the server brings them their drinks. “I’m sorry if I misunderstood things. I really got the sense you didn’t like me.”

April frowns. “I’m not sure how, honestly. I was trying pretty hard to get to know you.” 

“I think I definitely, uh, read things wrong,” May admits. “I’m definitely… Confused about things. But, come on, April. You have to admit, you were acting super competitive with me in class.”

Her brows furrow, hazel eyes giving the impression she’s sifting through memories. 

“Was I that bad?” She asks. 

“Yes,” May insists. “You disagree with everything I say. You compete over grades. When you did better than me on the criminology midterm exam, you literally said April always comes before May.” 

April’s cheeks redden. 

“Oh my god,” she mumbles.

“You did say it!” May reiterates. 

“No, I know,” April says. “I’m sorry, I just… God, it’s stupid. You thought I was serious?”

“Well, yeah?” 

April takes a long sip of her cider.

---

45 for darling Cranberry! 🦮:

---

Cranberry brings Chris the ball, pressing it eagerly into his hand. 

“Ew, so much slobber,” Chris complains, wiping his hand on his pants. Luckily, laundry day is tomorrow. 

“Well, you’re the one who keeps throwing it for her,” Buck says. He’s just been snapping photos to send to Eddie. 

“Gross, Cran,” Chris chides, and throws the ball again, a little absentmindedly. This time, the ball goes high. Higher than Buck would have liked. And at an awkward angle.

Cranberry twists her body as she jumps, catching the ball midair. When she comes back down, she fumbles, front left paw hitting the ground hard and buckling under her. She yelps and stumbles forward. 

“Cranberry!” Chris shrieks. 

Buck lurches forward to where they’re playing, straining his leg. 

Cranberry stands and stumbles a little again. She lifts her injured paw, favoring it. Tail tucked between her leg, she limps towards Buck, seeking comfort.

Buck lowers himself down as quickly as he can manage to examine her. 

“Are you okay, baby?” He asks. 

“Did she break her leg?” Christopher asks, bottom lip trembling.

Buck lifts Cranberry’s injured leg. It doesn’t look broken. He flexes it. Her elbow and shoulder move without resistance, but she fights him when he tries to straighten her wrist. It can move, it just hurts her. 

“Is she okay?” Chris asks again. 

Buck feels a pang of annoyance. 

“This is why I asked you not to throw it too high,” he grits out. 

Tears spill out from the boy’s eyes. 

“I-I’m sorry, Buck.” He blubbers. “I didn’t mean to hurt her!”

Buck clenches his jaw. He feels unreasonably angry and panicked. If Christopher had just listened this wouldn’t have happened. 

“I know it was an accident,” Buck manages. 

“I’m sorry, Cranberry,” Chris cries. He takes his glasses off to wipe his eyes. 

“I think it’s just twisted,” Buck says. “I’m going to bring her inside and call the vet to see if she needs to get checked out. Okay?”

[mruczega]

Means of Escape (Eyeless Jack x Reader) - Chapter (1/?)

Summary: You should have never walked out of that goddamn door. Chapter 1: Here I am: dark, cold, and drenched. In the middle of an abandoned city with nothing other than my phone. My feet feel sore, and heavy, as though they will give out any minute. I feel faint, but there is nowhere else to go. No one I can turn to. I force myself to keep walking, pretending that I'm not aware.

I hate days like this. The situations they got me into ranged from uncomfortable to horrid. Never pleasant in the slightest, and always at a price I should not be expected to pay.

Such days always start with something small. Dishes not being done, a bill being overdue, or a look that has lingered for a moment too long.  It never took much to get them riled up. It took even less for that anger to be directed at me.

Their relationship never made sense. They have hated each other for years by now, and yet they still choose to stay. The two of them being a fated pair has always seemed to be a lie. They pair as well as water and oil. A toxic combination, many would warn against. Yet they can never seem to go their separate ways.

They obsess over each other. And I seemed of no importance to either one of them.

Will they even care? My faith is nearing.

Home isn’t safe... neither are the streets but I took my chances with them. A decision I’m already beginning to regret. His footsteps are getting closer and closer. I don’t know how long I can keep trying to ignore them.

I know I am being followed.

What are the chances of a stranger going round and about this destitute town? Next to none! With all shops closed, and the streets empty, there is no need for anyone to be cruising the abandoned alleyways.

I’m sure that he is aware of my realization. After all, the crushing of the leaves is getting louder and louder and the distance between us lessens with each moment.

Everything is spinning out of control. His hot breath is almost upon my neck.

I want to – No. I need to get away. But how? There is no place to hide. No place to run to. My hands tremble as I take a quick glance at my phone.

It’s 3.45 am. 8% battery left.

“Hey!” the man growled out.

I kept walking. A little faster than I did before; pretending that I have not heard the man. Whatever he wanted from me, it was practically in his grasp. I need to run.

Like a predator GRASPING the nape of its prey, his sharp claws tugged the back of my shirt. A strong grasp pulled me back into the arms of that unknown man. What is he going to do to me?

“I don’t have any ca-“His rough grip held my jaw shut. Silencing my protests and pleas.

I tried to tear myself free, pushed and pulled and yet his hold on me felt as though it would crush my bones. A man with the strength of a bear. Smelling me like a beast.

“- I don’t get what you’re thinking,” he huffed, “all common sense seems to have gone out of the window for you to be walking around like that, here of all places”. His scolding touch made me want to bury myself under the ground. But I couldn’t do anything.

He treated me as a rag doll, moving and shuffling me around with ease. His arms engulfed me, and his being clouded all my senses. He seems to be everywhere and yet nowhere at the same time.

I want to puke. Scream, shout, cry. Yet nothing came out. His arms closed tighter and tighter around me. As if I could have even gotten out of this cage in the first place. That relentless approach of his seemed to reek of desperation. What for? I do not know.

He took a deep breath and loosened his grip on me ever so slightly. “You will be ok” the man mumbled out. Talking to himself? Or me?

It feels like an obvious lie. None of this is anywhere close to being fine, my world is spinning into madness.

Everything faded to blackness.

By the time the colours returned, it seemed to no longer be the middle of the night. The dim rays of sunshine sneaked through the window blinds. Bringing a sense of comfort and confusion. A room too clean and proper, not the type of place I would usually find myself.

How did I get here? Where am I?

A warm dry bed, with thick silk-like blankets and countless pillows. This is not where I usually wake up.

My eyes scanned across the room, taking into account the countless worn-out books, somewhat scratched-up furniture and wooden detailing. It’s old, but well taken care of. Perhaps an antique?

“You’re finally up.” The man entered the room with purpose, setting himself on the side of the bed. Too close for my comfort. His face was covered with a striking blue mask. I have heard of him on the news. The eyeless harvester is what they call him. A man with a track record and alleged connections to the black market.

“Shush” he leaned towards me. “I know that your mind must be running a thousand miles a second, but you don’t have anything to worry about. You’re very lucky that I was the one to find you.”

A strange smile appeared on his face. His eyes glanced up and down my body. An assessment? Is he sizing me up, considering what he will take- at this stage?

He continued “I’m Jack, what may I call you?”

“…Y/N” I didn't want to reply.

“It’s good to see you up. Looks like you must be feeling a bit better now.” I nodded. “Excellent” he purred out. Quickly getting up from the bed. “I left some clothes on the nightstand. The en-suite is on the right. Feel free to take a shower while I grab you a bite to eat. I will be in the kitchen.”

He departed the room as quickly as he came. Showing no care for my response.

My phone is nowhere in sight.

Within minutes my feet were down on the floor. I stumbled towards the light, ready to see what awaited me outside those thick walls. My eyes fisted upon the vast green biome. Countless rows of trees, complimented by greenery of all sorts. Bushes, flowers, and moss. All laid out meters beneath.

Looking back, I headed to the other side. I grabbed the garments and entered the bathroom. An intense stench of copper hit me as soon as I opened the door.

[starlightshadowsworld]

I fell into the South Asian, in particularly Kashmiri, embroidery rabbit hole.

I’m obsessed.

How it’s been used in traditional attire and incorporated in more western cuts. The techniques and the craft.

I don’t know how to embroider yet but I have plans to learn because obviously I need more hobbies.

But I do know how to knit and I keep thinking about all the different ways that I could incorporate those motifs and such into it.

I’m like nowhere near done with these mehndi (henna) gloves btw and I am already thinking about what could come next 🤣

[headcanonthings]

So I have seen a couple fics where Tim runs a conspiracy social media account. And those are great! But you know what I think would be absolutely HILARIOUS? A fic where Tim gets everyone right but the Batfam (on purpose)

Okay stick with me for this because I’m pretty coming up with this on the spot and am typing this up on the app

So I’m going to start with the classic AU premise where Tim didn’t join the Batfam

Did Jason not die so there was no need? Or did Steph step up first? IDK but for whatever reason Tim did not become Robin and still lives all by his lonesome in a giant empty mansion next door to the family he’s obsessed with

Tim is still his usual stalker-y self and figured out Batman and Robin’s identity when he was a little kid

And since he’s not busy being part of the Bats, he’s got to fill his time up somehow so as more heroes start popping up Tim starts to see if he can figure out their identities too

And he does! Because he’s a freaking genius!

But what’s he gonna do with all this info??? He’s not gonna sell it or anything because he’s not EVIL

So he just kind of sits on it. Goes out and takes his pictures (he even makes a couple trips out of Gotham to get some snaps of the other heroes) . And pretends that living in an empty mansion doesn’t bother him at all. Nope. Not one bit. He is totally mentally okay.

So I’m not fully sure how he’s make the jump. Maybe he’s just really bored one day? Or maybe his parents in one of their rare conversations say something disparaging about his intellect?

Oh! Or maybe he sees everyone online one day throwing out theories about a hero and they are hilariously wrong. And Tim can’t resist. He figures if he builds a quick dummy/anon account his theory will just get lost in the rest of the noise

So he starts posting his theory (is it still a theory when he knows it’s a fact?) about the hero of todays focus …let’s say Green Arrow. Tim lays out all the evidence that could be easily accessed by the public on why Oliver Queen is the Green Arrow.

Tim is still careful though so his tone is pretty jokey throughout so that most readers are just assuming he’s making a joke theory

But that kind of backfired on Tim because that just helps spread it around

And maybe Tim’s one common sense brain cell is out for an extended vacation or something because even after his Ollie Queen is Green Arrow theory blows up he does it again! Maybe following it up with Black Canary or Arsenal?

And then he…just…keeps…going

He keeps up the jokey tone but if anyone gives it more than a couple seconds thought all his evident is really plausible!

Which worries the fuck out of the heroes because who the fuck is this guy and why does he know who all of them are!

Maybe after he’s done a couple theories people start asking him about specific heroes and Tim replies either right away because he already know or he’ll take a few days if it’s for someone he hast figured out yet (like some of the newer heroes)

But then someone asks about Batman and suddenly his common sense brain cell kicks in because nine year old Tim promised himself that he would NEVER reveal the Bats secret and he can’t break that promise!

So he throws out a completely trash theory that is nowhere near the Waynes. Maybe he picks Commissioner Gordon or some other well to do Gothamite (maybe even picks his own dad because what Gotham kid didn’t wish their dad was batman at some point?)

He tries to make sure that the theory is still plausible so it doesn’t stand out against his other ones

But this just throws more red flags up for the hero community because if he got all of the rest of them right why would this one be suddenly wrong?

Does batman know who it is? Is batman the one running the account? Did the account change hands and that’s why it’s suddenly wrong? If so what happened to the person who actually knew their identities?

I honestly don’t know where it all goes at this point.

Just like a mess of hijinks as heroes come up with plans to throw off anyone from actually believing Tim’s theories.

The Bats taking on the task of figuring out who discovered everyone’s identities and Tim both purposefully and also a bit accidentally being two steps ahead of them

Some inevitable confrontation where The Bats figure out the neighbor boy, who they all thought was traveling with his parents!, is the one who’s figured them all out

All of the Bats almost immediately deciding to adopt Tim (the kids just yelling at Bruce how is he not already out brother! He should have been years ago!)

The hero community demands Tim stop running his conspiracy (but actually it’s all true) social account and Tim sort of agrees by just switching it over to a full roast account

He starts liking other conspiracies and started backing them up with more plausible evidence

I don’t know I just think it would be really funny if Tim basically doxes every other superhero except for the Batfam because he’s loyal to them (and because of a promise he made to himself when he was a kid)

Wait one last thing just imagine after all of this, once he’s been integrated into the Batfam and the hero community under his own hero identity, he makes one more original conspiracy thread all around his own moniker and but it’s all Batman just found me and made me a hero :)

[makoodles]

I love how Lo’ak has become a little shit across each of your stories ☠️☠️☠️ like he’s always got that ride or die connection with reader (not criticizing I literally am obsessed with their relationship) and is just ETERNALLY done with whoever is trying to pursue his emotional support tawtute 😠☹️

Like he don’t give af about his parents trying to mate with a 3rd (or like a 2nd wife sitch) in Sex Edu, lol he’s like: “bruh you guys have literally ZERO game. Like negative rizz bc you chased her away. Mad embarrassing that neither the Olo’eyktan or Tsahik have any pull game. I get you guys are old and boring but no way I’m letting __ end up some eternal bachelor-meathead!!! YOU HSVE TO FIX IT. IM LOSING IT. I NEED MY TAWTUTE. HOW AM I SUPPOSED TO LIVE. LAUGH. LOVE. IN THESE CONDITIONS”

Jake and Neytiri: “… damn our boy is right…”

*proceeds to game out the most extra and over the top game plan to claim you*

Lo’ak:

oh my god you're so right 😭 it's crazy how you can have all these little tropes/sayings etc in your writing and never notice until it's pointed out!

i do actually love lo'ak as a character ahahahah which is why he keeps popping up like that!

i just think lo'ak would have such a little bond with the reader. like we can see in the movie how comfortable and familiar he is around the human outpost and how close he is with spider, so i think he would definitely latch onto you as an extra little parental figure. because you're so small and fragile though, he'd be super protective of you!

as far as lo'ak is concerned, you're already mated to his parents. you're always sitting in jake's lap, he kisses your head all the time, neytiri styles your hair and mends your clothes, you sleep over in their family home, you share meals. you may not notice this yourself thanks to your weak human senses, but you always smell like them too.

so when another na'vi starts flirting with you, lo'ak initially just feels kind of annoyed about it. it's a little funny, until he realises that you're allowing the flirting to happen. that's when he's gonna start getting protective, and looking to jake and neytiri with the biggest wtf expression because what the hell is happening right now

i imagine him like a little pomeranian, following along at your heels and sending glares at everyone looking your way - it's definitely nowhere near as intimidating as he thinks it is. you think it's adorable, even if you can't quite figure out why he's acting so defensive over you all of a sudden

[the-cult-of-riley]

Sleeping With Ghosts (Act One: Chapter Twenty Four)

Simon 'Ghost' Riley x Female OC

[[Masterlist]]

A/N: The wedding is here!!!!

Thank you once again to everyone showing love to this story. It’s nowhere near done but my brain is getting antsy. I have like a billion Ghost stories I wanna write, some I've started already, some mere ideas in my pesky brain. I’d love to hear which ones you guys are most interested in first. I can’t list all of my ideas here because it would take too long but some of the ones I’m doing are;

-Ghost/OC/Soap story. MC is on the task force.

-I don’t wanna call it an alpha/omega story because the MC is human, but it's kinda along those lines with mates and stuff. But it falls into obsessive Ghost and reluctant (at first) MC. If you think this Ghost is pussy whipped for Lottie then… lmao just wait and see bby.

-a sunshine/grumpy trope story. Ghost absolutely wants nothing to do with her but she's so cute and ridiculous and happy and she worms her way in anyway >:)

-mediaeval ish story. MC is the princess, Ghost is a knight.  

-an actual alpha/omega story. Our poor little omega is traumatised and Ghostie takes care of her.

-Zombie AU story. Deals with some pretty dark and depressing shit.

I have more ideas but those are the ones pinging around my brain the most and some I’ve already started. Don’t be shy to let me know.

The wedding dress and the lingerie for reference.

I actually managed to pick a song that wasn’t the usual bands lmao My brain allowed it because good ol’ Greg here is the singer from The Dillinger Escape plan, who I believe our Ghostie listens to lololol

Greg Puciato - Heaven of Stone

In the earth below with

Nowhere else to go

I know that we'll belong

Set free from all the wrongs

In eternal gardens

Fallen flowers grow

I've held you all along

In heavens made of stone

‘Love is composed of a single soul inhabiting two bodies.’ Simon tried to remember who said that, if he remembered right, it was Aristotle. Made sense though, didn’t it? Maybe that's why he’d spent most of his life miserable, feeling cold and empty like a haunted house. Maybe that was why he always felt like something was missing. He’d been only half of a soul, floating around like a wraith, trying to find his other half. Now he’d found her, had her stumble right into his life and now he knew he could never look back. He felt whole, he felt complete, he felt like everything was right and the world made sense.

Despite these feelings, he was greedily sucking nicotine from a smoke, his second in  less than fifteen minutes, as he sat perched on the wall outside of the courthouse. To say he was feeling nervous would have been a gross understatement. He wasn't having cold feet, in fact Tommy had been stunned by the lack of cold feet he’d shown all morning. He’d never been more sure of anything in his entire life, he knew he wanted her to be his wife. But he was nervous for a lot of other things, the variables in this scenario, the things beyond his control. Just as he hated that bullshit out on the battlefield, he hated it in his personal life. He loved to be in control, it meant he was less likely to get hurt, a feeling he’d been subjected to far too much as a child. He’d vowed never to feel that vulnerable again. 

What if she was the one having cold feet? What if she decided she didn't want to marry a tosser like him? What if she decided she didn't want marriage at all? What if she decided she was bored of him and that she didn't want to be with him full stop? What if she didn't turn up? What if he went home and all her stuff was gone? What if, what if, what if? Too many thoughts, too many feelings and he was trying to calm himself down by chain smoking. 

“You're gonna get lung cancer before she even gets here at this rate,” Tommy huffed from next to him, snatching the pack of smokes out of his hand and pocketing them. Simon glared at him, stubbing out the end of his cig before flicking it into the bin not too far away. 

“I’m fine,” he grouched and Tommy eyed his leg that was anxiously bouncing before raising a smug brow at him. “Fuck off,” he huffed and Tommy snorted.

“It’s okay to be nervous, Si,” he murmured and Simon ran a hand through his hair in agitation.

Lottie would be here soon and he wished she’d just turn up early, to see if she would in fact turn up or if his life was about to quickly go down the shitter. 

“What if she doesn't turn up?” he asked, his voice so quiet with the shame of his admission. Tommy glanced at him, a sympathetic smile on his face as he clapped Simon on the back.

“She will turn up,” his simple answer just annoyed him and he heaved a sigh, glaring at him. “She thinks the world of you, Simon, anyone with eyes can see that. She’ll turn up. If anything, she’s probably panicking just as much as you right now. Probably convinced herself you won't be here,” Tommy said quietly and Simon knew he wasn't wrong. He knew his girl so well and she was probably working herself into an even bigger tizzy than he was. He just hated this anxiety, hated being away from her like this. He knew she loved him, his nerves were just getting the best of him. 

Tommy’s phone dinged and he glanced at it, grinning before he stood up.

“Come on, arse wipe, up you get. They’re on their way,” he beamed at him. 

Relief flooded his system then, knowing she was coming after all, Beth and his mum in tow after helping her get ready. He wondered just what she’d look like walking down the small aisle of the courthouse. 

He was wearing a suit, nothing too fancy, just a simple black and white suit that he’d worn to Tommy’s wedding. He’d contemplated getting something fancier, something just for this occasion, but Charlotte had told him to do what he wanted, whatever was comfortable for him so this is what he chose. He wasnt much of a suit person to begin with and he didn’t want to waste money on something that made him so fucking uncomfortable. He felt he scrubbed up decent enough anyway. 

He followed his baby brother into the courthouse to await his bride and his stomach felt like there were a million roaches inside, all squirming around trying to get out. He felt sick, breathing slowly so he didn’t fucking pass out and make a right knob of himself while he waited at the end of the aisle. The officiant was an older man, a kind face who had been nothing but nice and polite to the boys since they arrived. They all stood waiting for the girls to arrive. 

There wouldn't be music, the wedding march or anything of the like as she walked in. They could have requested it but she’d said no. He'd been a little surprised that she wanted a bare bones wedding like this but he hadn’t minded at all. He tended to agree with her though, weddings were shite. He just wanted to marry her. 

He heard the door start to open and he stood taller, as if standing to attention in front of his commanding officer. As the doors fully opened, he felt like all the breath got stolen from his lungs. The feeling was so reminiscent of when they first met and he never would have thought back then that he’d wind up making her his wife. 

She was an absolute vision and his throat constricted painfully as he couldn't stop staring at her, eyes unblinking, not wanting to miss anything. The dress suited her perfectly, the lace as delicate as she was and he felt his eyes prickling with unshed tears as the emotion overflowed inside of him. His mum was linking arms with her, giving her away as she had no parents of her own. He remembered how hard Lottie had cried when his mum had offered, remembered how he himself had cried no matter how embarrassing it might have been. 

Beth was behind them, holding the train of the dress in one hand, the other arm having an almost one year old Joseph perched on her hip. He was wearing fucking suit and everything. Little man looked proper dapper. 

His mum led Charlotte to him and his girl was staring at him with wide eyes and a tentative smile. After a pat to the arm off his teary mum, she sat down with Tommy, Beth and little Jo following along. He couldn't take his eyes off Lottie though as they stared at each other. Her brown waves were up in some braided updo thing, a few waves framing her face. She was perfect.

“You look like an angel, love,” he whispered reverently, his voice thick with emotion as he grasped her hands. She blushed, that pink looking so pretty on her face as she smiled shyly. Always acted like he was complimenting her for the first time. He never tired of making her blush, he loved that he could still have that effect on her. 

“You look so handsome, Si,” she murmured, making those moon eyes at him as if he’d hung the moon himself. Fuck, he wished he did. He’d do anything she asked of him no matter how impossible the task. 

He wanted to keep going on about how beautiful she was, wanted to kiss the gloss of her perfect lips, wanted to do a lot of things, but then the officiant started speaking.

“Dearly beloved, we are gathered here today to witness and celebrate the union of Charlotte and Simon in marriage. This ceremony marks the beginning of their journey together as husband and wife,” he started and Simon felt the anticipation thrumming through his entire being. His eyes were still glued to his girl, even when he heard his mothers sniffle from her seat. 

“Charlotte and Simon, today you come before us to express your love and commitment to one another. Before we proceed, do you both affirm that it is your intention to enter into this marriage willingly and with full understanding of its significance?” he asked and Charlotte smiled up at Simon in a way that rendered his heart to mush.

"We do," they both answered and it made his lips tug up as he squeezed her soft hands gently.

“Excellent. Charlotte and Simon, marriage is a sacred bond, a union founded on love, respect, and mutual trust. It is a promise to stand by each other through life's joys and challenges. It is a commitment to support and uplift one another, to cherish and nurture your relationship each and every day. Now, Charlotte, please share your vows with Simon,” the officiant said with a warm smile. 

He could tell she was nervous, felt her hands trembling against his own. He expected her to pull out a piece of paper with her vows on, like his own that he’d stuffed in his pocket. Vows he’d agonised over and rewrote a billion and one times because no words could ever be able to sum up what he wanted to say to her. She didn't seem to need to read her vows though, apparently she had it all stored in her head.

“Simon… from the moment I met you, I knew there was something special about you. You've brought so much joy and love into my life, and I’m grateful for every moment we've shared together. You’ve changed me as a person, for the better. Made me see I’m worthy of being loved. I can never repay you for all you’ve done for me but I’d love to spend the rest of our lives trying,” she started with a wobbly voice and shiny eyes. His chest felt heavy, like a weight bearing down on him as he suppressed the urge to cry like a right mard arse. He gave her a watery smile and she gripped his hands tighter. 

“I promise to stand by your side through thick and thin. I promise to support you, to encourage you, and to be your partner in all things. I vow to listen to you with an open heart, to laugh with you in times of joy, and to comfort you in times of sorrow. I choose you today and every day for the rest of our lives,” she murmured earnestly and he had to blink rapidly to quell the onslaught of tears threatening to break through. 

“Thank you, Charlotte. Now, Simon, please share your vows with Charlotte,” the officiant smiled. 

Simon swallowed thickly, one of his hands leaving Lottie’s so he could retrieve the little piece of paper in his breast pocket with a trembling hand. His breathing was shaky and he tried to calm himself, didn't want his voice to crack.

“Charlotte, from the moment I saw you, I knew you were the one I wanted to spend my life with…” he hated how close to tears he sounded, how the lump in his throat got bigger with each word leaving his mouth. Charlotte gave him an encouraging smile, bringing the hand she still held up to her mouth and placing a tender kiss to his knuckles. “You’re my best friend, my confidante, and my soulmate. Today, in front of our family, I promise to love you unconditionally, to support you in all your dreams and endeavours, and to always be there for you. I promise to cherish you, to respect you, and to honour you for the incredible person you are. I’m so grateful to call you my partner, and I vow to spend the rest of my days makin’ you happy,” he choked out, stuffing the paper back in his pocket before wiping his eyes quickly. The officiant looked at Tommy then and he hopped up, fishing around in his pocket before grabbing the two rings, handing them to both he and Lottie. “As Charlotte and Simon exchange these rings, they are symbolising the commitment and love they have pledged to one another. These rings are more than mere adornments; they are a visible representation of the promises and vows made here today. Charlotte, as you place this ring on Simon's finger, may it serve as a constant reminder of your love, loyalty, and devotion. Let it be a symbol of the unbreakable bond you share and a promise of your commitment to him,” the officiant said, gesturing to Charlotte and she smiled up at Simon, a heart melting smile before she slid the ring on his finger with the utmost care.

“Simon, as you place this ring on Charlotte's finger, may it be a symbol of your eternal love and unwavering dedication. Let it be a reminder of the promises you've made and a testament to the love that will continue to grow between you,” Simon’s thumb brushed over her finger before he slid the ring on, giving her hand a squeeze as he gazed down at her adoringly. 

“May these rings forever signify the love and unity you share as husband and wife. With this exchange, your lives are forever intertwined, and your journey together as partners begins anew. And now, by the power vested in me by the City of Manchester, I am honoured to pronounce you husband and wife. You may seal your vows with a kiss.”

Simon wasted no time, gripping either side of Lottie’s face and leaning down, capturing her lips quickly. He’d wanted to do nothing but kiss her since she’d turned up. He kept it tame, he did have an audience after all, he he tried he pour all of his love, all of his emotion into the kiss. When he pulled away, her cheeks were aflame, amusement dancing behind her pretty blue eyes as she smiled at him.

“I love you,” she murmured and he felt himself melting all over again.

“I love you too… Mrs Riley,” he smirked and her smile widened.

They stayed a little longer to sign all the forms to actually be married before they all left the courthouse. Not before his mother had clung to him, weeping into his chest at how proud she was, how fucking happy he was for him. Made his heart feel like it had grown three sizes seeing his poor mum like that about him. 

Much to Tommy’s chagrin, there wouldn't be a reception. Charlotte hadn't really wanted one and if he was honest, neither did he. All he could think about as he looked at his new wife in that dress was wanting to get her home and getting inside of her. Before they left, his mum was adamant on getting some pictures that she could print off so they’d posed for her outside of the courthouse and he didn't think he’d ever had a picture taken of him smiling quite like this.

They’d gotten congratulations from the taxi driver on their way home after parting ways with his family and Simon felt his chest puff with pride that Lottie was now his wife. His other half. She was fully his and he felt like he was on top of the world. She seemed so happy, smiling and giggling as he told her shitty jokes on the way home, clutching his arm as they made their way inside and into the lift. 

As they walked down the hallway of their apartment, he scooped her up bridal style, making her squeal before she started laughing, gripping around his neck as if she thought he’d drop her. As if he ever would. He was smiling so fucking hard his cheeks hurt and he was sure he probably looked fucking psychotic at this point. He couldn't help it though, he’d never felt happiness quite like this, never thought he would. Hadn’t thought he deserved it. Yet here she was, beautiful and sweet Charlotte, giving him every drop of love she had in her entire being and he wouldn't waste a single bit of it. 

He carried her through the threshold, gently placing her on her feet as they got indoors and he shut the door behind her. His eyes turned hungry then as he gazed at her, eyes trailing over her in that fucking dress, looking like some angel sent from heaven to tempt him. 

He stepped towards her and the look in his eyes had her stepping back until her back hit the door, lips parted, pupils blown wide as he gazed up at him. He rested his hands either side of her on the door, caging her in, knowing she loved his size and loved feeling helpless around him, little minx she was. 

He trailed his nose along her delicate throat with a hum and she let out a soft noise that had his hard dick aching in his pants. He placed a wet and open mouthed kiss on her pulse point, making her moan quietly before he leaned back up to look at her with his blazing eyes. 

“You look good enough to eat, sweetheart,” he purred and she smiled, a delighted flash glinting in her eyes. 

“Be careful of the dress, it's a rental,” she smirked, making him snort softly.

“That’s a shame, wanted to fuck you in it,” he muttered wickedly, loving how she swallowed thickly, squirming where she stood. 

“I have something better… you should take the dress off,” she murmured, looking at him all coy like and batting her lashes. 

He was intrigued and horny so he did what he was told like a good husband, moving his hands from the door to around her waist. She gasped as he pulled her flush to his chest, her hands splaying on him as she blinked up at him. His large hand slid around to her back, finding the zip and unzipping it slowly, slow enough to make her shift impatiently. 

Once the zip was completely down, his hands trailed in a featherlight touch up to her shoulders, pulling down the dainty straps there. He tugged the dress down, revealing lingerie he hadn't expected underneath. His movements became a little faster now, pulling the dress until it pooled around her ankles and he let out a deep groan, his eyes darkening. 

“You dress up for me, angel?” he asked in a mere whisper and her blush swept up her chest to her face as she nodded shyly. What a fucking sight she was like this, white lingerie with delicate straps and flowers adorning her. She’d been right, it was better than the wedding dress. His hands slid up her hips to her waist and he leaned down, nuzzling her nose with his.

“You look absolutely beautiful, Charlotte,” he murmured, brushing his lips against hers and feeling her smile against him.

“You like it?” she asked almost meekly and maybe it shouldn't have made his dick even harder, but it did.

“Fuckin’ love it,” he replied breathlessly. 

He trailed hot and wet kisses from her mouth, down her jaw and to her neck, lavishing it with attention, just how she liked it. She let out a breathy moan and he groaned in response, pulling her closer to him as his hands slid around to her arse. It was then he realised the lingerie was a thong and her perfect arse cheeks were on display for him. A growl rumbled in his chest as he gave them a firm squeeze, and she moaned a little louder this time. 

“On the bed, love,” he ordered, pulling himself away from her painfully. He needed to get out of his fucking clothes so he could have his way with her before his dick fell off. She flashed him a pretty smile before they both made their way to the bedroom and she sauntered over to the bed. He watched her lay on her side, watching him with rapt attention as he started to undress. His lips tugged into a smirk at her blatant ogling so he made sure to take his time as he unbuttoned his shirt before peeling it off, his pants soon to follow. 

Once he was finally free of his constraints, he made a beeline for the bed and Charlotte rolled onto her back waiting for him. He climbed on, parting her thighs and groaning in delight at the view of her soaked cunt behind the sheer white material. 

“Look at you, all wet and ready for me already like a good little wife,” he drawled and he didn't miss how her breathing hitched at his words. Her pupils were blown wide as she watched him keenly and he slid his hands up the inside of her thighs slowly, loving how soft her skin was. He could feel her shaking with anticipation, his cock twitching at how she arched her back, trying to get closer to him. 

He couldn't tear his eyes off her, he loved her so much it felt like it caused him physical pain sometimes. He leaned down, kissing every morsel of skin he could that poked out of her body suit, worshipping her body like the goddess she was. Fucking hell, he’d give his life to her, devote everything he had in him to her. 

She was writhing under his touch, at every flutter of his lips against her skin, every brush of his tongue, every nip of his teeth. He was reverent with every touch as he made his way up her body, paying extra attention to her neck and getting a lovely moan from her. 

His lips finally claimed hers and she was so desperate for him that he felt like he might spill his load without being touched. How had he gotten so lucky? What on earth had he done to deserve such a beauty in his life that was the radiance she exuded? She was absolutely everything to him, the beginning and the end, completing him like the puzzle piece he’d spent his life searching for. 

“What?” she asked shyly and he realised then he’d stopped kissing her and was just looking at her with those soft eyes he had, only for her. He felt heat bloom high on his cheeks, in the top of his ears and she noticed because she smiled warmly at him, her fingers caressing the back of his neck lovingly. 

“I just… I love you. Never thought I’d have this,” he admitted quietly and her eyes softened, her smile widening. 

“I love you too,” she fluttered a pretty smile at him, pulling him back down and massaging her lips against his. 

He melted into her, his hand trailing down her body like some sacred object before it brushed her dripping cunt over her underwear. She gasped and he moaned, practically salivating over how needy her body was being. Part of him wanted to go all out, fuck her with his fingers, lick her pussy until she was a shaking mess, but he couldn’t. Seeing her in this pretty white lingerie, seeing her in that dress, seeing her with his ring on her finger, branding her as his… It was too much. He needed her so badly he was sure he’d die. 

He hooked his finger in the string of her underwear, dragging it from where it lay over her cunt and arse, pulling it to the side to sit in the crease of her thigh. He gripped his aching cock, rubbing against her soaked heat and she let out a needy noise that had his blood running hot. 

He sunk into her with a loud groan of relief, her own moan bleeding into his. He bottomed out deliciously and she had that pretty look on her face that told him he was filling her tight little cunt up to the brim, filling her up good. The hand beside her head was used for leverage, his other winding around her lower back to angle her better and keep her as close as possible before he started rutting into her. 

If he wasnt half gone with lust, he might have felt sorry for the neighbours as his pretty little wife started keening, clawing at his shoulders as he fucked the soul out of her, trying to claim it for his own. The legs of the bed squeaked, the headboard slamming into the wall and the room was full of obscene sounds. Their moans, the sound of their skin slapping together as he fucked her like a man possessed. 

He wanted to tell her she was his now, belonged to him in every way possible, wanted to tell her she wouldn't be leaving him ever, not if he had anything to do with it. He wanted to say a lot of things but his mouth could do little else but moan like a needy whore at the pleasure he felt. She was divine, being with her like this was a holy experience for him and it set every nerve ending in his body on fire. 

His lips crashed to hers and the kiss was messy, desperate as they both clawed and pawed at each other, chasing a release that felt higher than any other. Her hand was on the back of his neck, pulling him impossibly closer to her as she tangled her tongue with his and he could feel the cold metal of her ring on his skin, a reminder of how she willingly gave herself over to him today. They were no longer separate souls, two halves separated into two bodies. They were joined in union, tied together forever. He’d follow her even after death if it came to it. 

He angled his hips just right, brushing that spot inside of her and pressing against her clit with his public bone and the noise she let out would make a porn star blush.

“Fuckin’ Christ…” he moaned, struggling to hold into his sanity as her cunt fluttered around him 

“Don’t stop,” she choked out, her pale cheeks flushed red, irises nowhere in sight as her eyes were overtaken by her pupils. Her voice was pleading, bordering on desperate as she clung to him like she might float off the earth if she didn't. 

He didn't stop, he kept his brutal pace, sweat trickling down his temple with the effort it was taking to not fill her up, not yet. He felt the moment she came, felt her pussy grip him so tightly he was worried she’d cut off his blood supply. It felt like she was trying to suck him inside of her, trying to consume him and he’d let her. He let out an embarrassingly loud moan, guttural and primal as his cock spurted thick ropes of cum inside of her, over and over. He felt like he'd never cum that much in his life. 

They both lay there, panting and sweaty and he tried not to squash her as they came down from their highs. His lips found hers, the kiss tender, slow, loving. Her hand was on his cheek, soft and sweet and it made his chest feel tight. When he pulled away, she was radiant, glowing from the inside out as she blinked her pretty eyes at him. 

“I’m the luckiest girl in the world,” she murmured and it made the tightness in his chest worse. 

He couldn't fathom being something someone wanted, that someone would be lucky to have him. But he knew she meant it, down to her fucking bones and god if it didn’t feel good. If it didn't make him feel like he could do anything when she looked at him so lovingly. He felt like he could take on the world. He was the lucky one and he knew that, to have such a loving partner, now wife, to have someone with so much love inside of her, all to himself. 

She’d raised herself, had been starved of love and basic human decency for most of her life and she’d turned out perfect. She’d raised herself and done it right and it made Simon feel like he could take on his own demons. If she could come out of the other side burning brighter than the sun, then so could he. 

They would chase each other's demons away, make the shadows crawl back to wherever they came from. She lit him up from the inside out and it made him feel warm. Made him feel like he was actually living and not just existing. Love is composed of a single soul inhabiting two bodies and he refused to part from her now he found her.