#She and I used to be close but we lost contact a year ago

[ziggy-stardust-is-in-love]

THAT WILL ALWAYS MAKE ME SMILE

THE LIL DUDE AND THE WAY HE SITS

IT KILLS ME

[headphonemouse]

Pining hell

[anarkhebringer]

Day infinity of my mother reinforcing why I have a personality disorder.

[copperbadge]

So, I got tagged in a post, and I wrote a bit of a novel in a reblog in drafts, and then I realized that probably it wasn't for the best to post up All That Nonsense when the OP was just making a funny post about Wikipedia's fundraising. And it is a funny post! So I'll link here to the post and where I was tagged but I decided to put my thoughts here. Please take this as a hint to be respectful of OP and the person who tagged me both :)

I will say my initial reaction to seeing Wikipedia selling merch AND asking to be in your will was "Well, they're trying something." It's just such a weird topic to bring up, it's hard to be graceful about it, so I think what they were doing was probably the best you can do.

And the response did make a lot of the points I'd make about making a will and such. In fact, FreeWill is what I made my will with and we recommend them to our donors.

There was a study that came out a decade ago or more, so my numbers probably aren't accurate, but the statistic that knocked me back was that most donors who leave surprise large bequests (gifts to charity in their will) give an average of $17 a year during their lives. So there's likely a reason that Wikipedia is targeting users and not huge donors.

It's an ongoing issue that most people also don't document their bequests. By all means, leave money to charity in your will, they will be happy to have it, but they will be even happier to know ahead of time.

Perfect example, THIS WEEK we got a check for six figures from a woman's estate. It was an eyebrow-raising amount of money for us. My boss, who handles both "eyebrow raising money" and "gifts from dead people", immediately went to look her up in our database.

Which she is not in. We had no idea this woman existed. Never gave to us before.

Had we known she was leaving us this money, my boss would have made sure she understood how grateful we were and like, bought her lunch a couple of times a year, and when she did pass we would have known who to reach out to in order to offer our support.

Instead, he came to me and said, "I have a name and an address," and I set to work to find out why she gave and who we could thank. I found her obit, but she didn't die of anything related to our work. Using information from the obit, I confirmed none of her family were in our database either. I looked up her second husband, mentioned in the obit, and his obit said he died of lung disease, which told me that this gift is because she lost her husband.

This helps because I knew from her obit that they had a blended family; they didn't have any kids together but they each had kids when they married, all of whom are now like, my age. So we want to thank her kids but we want to make sure her stepkids, who lost their dad, get a specific kind of outreach as well. I told my boss their names and he said one of the husband's kids was listed as the executor of the will, but there was nothing (surname-wise) to indicate they were related. I found contact information for that person, and my boss was able to reach out to her. She didn't realize we didn't know about the bequest, and now she and her siblings are talking to us about their dad and their own health while her stepsiblings, whose mother left us this very generous gift, are getting condolences and thanks and getting to say how she will be thanked in our documentation.

And I mean, that's why my job exists, to fill in those blanks. We just...would really like to have told her thank-you while she was alive.

SO! The moral of the story is: please consider leaving money to charity in your will if you can, use FreeWill to make your will (they will also help you document your gift) and let the charity know you're leaving them an estate gift. Not only will you maybe get cool swag but especially if it's a concern close to your heart, you'll get to build your relationship with the charity.

[hai7ani]

我的心肝宝贝 / i have found you / haitani rindou

sequel

losing your memories after a terrible car crash that's left you confused, quiet, and a little clumsy afterwards. all confidence had left your soul just like the past 2 years of your life, and honestly, you didn't think you'd be able to get through not knowing anything. things had changed a lot from when your memories had last stopped at.

you still manage to pick yourself up, however, even though it'd took you quite some time to gain back the confidence to go out in public with the blank and empty feeling in your head, your heart. you still don't remember much from the memories you've lost, and you find yourself constantly searching for something that you don't know.

and now you're in Don Quijote a little after 9 to run some errands for your mother who insists you go alone this time. before you left she had claimed that this may be helpful for you. she'd pointed out that this used to be your favourite place to visit at night when you had nothing to do. at first you didn't understand what she meant by it 一 you couldn't figure out why a place like Don Quijote would be somewhere you like spending time in, considering the loud, overwhelming music constantly playing through the speakers and the crowds of people who were somehow always everywhere in all corners of the store.

until you're queuing up for checkout and you hear a deep voice call for your nickname that you haven't heard in a while. you don't recognise the voice, though, and you think to yourself that this might be someone you had known just before you had lost your memories.

so you turn around, already getting ready to say the words you find yourself repeating quite a lot recently.

"i don't remember you."

the man before you is tall. he towers over you, he's a little tanned, and he's also the same guy you'd made eye contact with a while ago when you were browsing for ramen. you remember he had been staring 一 he seemed very mysterious, but you didn't think of him as creepy nor did he give off any human-trafficker vibes, and he never once broke eye contact too when you were passing him at the aisle.

"hi," you start with a little smile, and he thinks your eyes are bright with so much sun despite it being nighttime and you don't seem to be bringing anything up. he looks at you with an expression you think strangers don't normally give to another stranger, so you figure he must be someone you had known closely before.

"i, um," you blink once, twice 一 suddenly feeling a little out of breath and warm 一 and your chain of thought gets interrupted when he takes a step closer to your body. you can smell the hints of tobacco off his clothing and you resist the urge to pick away a loose thread from the collar of his black coat. the sudden temptation to do that was shocking to you, as you'd never felt anything like this before to anybody you've met recently.

then he lowers down a little to grab the handle of your basket and swiftly places it on the conveyor belt when you don't notice the cashier calling out for you (your back had been turned).

"thank you." you say as you start pulling out your wallet, getting ready to pay.

you turn to look up at the man again while waiting. you had bought quite an amount of items today, so this would give you time to converse with him.

"i'm sorry, have we known each other before?" you begin. you notice from his body movement that he is a little stunned when you'd asked him that, because he had taken a step back and frowned. he seems a bit confused as he curls his fingers inwards and forms his big hands into fists. the Don Quijote song plays softly in the background as you stare at each other like that 一 as he swallows the pit in his mouth, as you dig for just anything at all, right at the core of your brain.

nothing.

you decide to explain further when he doesn't budge. "i'd just lost my memories recently, from a car accident. i don't remember anything from the past 2 years..." you bite your lip, trailing off.

"so if we had known each other during those times, i'm really sorry, but i don't recognise you at all." your shoulders slump as you say it to him.

during those times.

you feel a little something, probably in your heart, rip apart inside of you when you see the light in his eyes swiftly disappear. you think the purple of his orbs had just turned into a darker shade. from violet to eggplant, his frown disappears, and he opens his mouth to speak-

"cash or card?"

you hurriedly look away from him and he sighs. out of relief, out of disappointment, or out of sadness?

"oh, cash-"

out of nothing but love.

"...we're paying together." he slams his own basket on the conveyor and eyes the cashier in a way that would've made you squirm out of fear because he looks so intimidating. "make it quick." he's stern when he says it, and the poor cashier looks so afraid that she does make absolute quick work of scanning his items together and checking you both out. but surprisingly to you, you don't sense any malice in his voice. you know he didn't mean anything bad by it -- he'd just really wanted it to be quick.

he's a nice guy, just a bit rough. he doesn't know how exactly to be polite. he has good intentions. he speaks up a lot, but he doesn't voice out very often.

you know. you want to tell her that. but he covers your sight by stepping in front of you and hands the lady his card.

(you end up sliding the cashier a piece of sticker you'd randomly found in your purse while mouthing a quick "sorry!" to her on your way out of the store.)

ane now you're standing outside the store, under a dim lamp post and you're searching for something inside your bag of groceries.

and he watches as you fish out a bag of chips, rip an opening easily, and hand it to him with a big smile. "here! my treat for paying for my groceries."

oddly to you this entire interaction feels so normal. usually a stranger would've never let another stranger pay for their things this easily, but with this man, it feels fine. it seemed okay to let him do that. you feel like this has happened before.

"why this snack?" is what he asks when he grabs a chip from the bag and shoves it in his mouth. he chews and chews and grabs another and chews, and your smile grows even wider when he finally takes the entire packet away and starts eating it like it belongs to him.

"dunno. i thought you'd enjoy it." you shrug, "and you do seem to actually enjoy it. i'm glad. i didn't buy it for any reason exactly, just felt right for me to grab it off the shelf."

he cracks a smile at that.

"you really don't remember me?"

"no, gosh, i'm sorry. what's your name?"

he eyes the small purple keychain of a specific initial hanging off your handbag. you hadn't switched it out even after so long, he realises.

...perhaps you did feel the same for him after all.

regret.

longing.

maybe still some love.

"Rindou. i am Rindou."

you give him a smile. he feels young all over again because you're looking at him the same way you always did.

"hello Rindou, i am y/n." you giggle as you say it, knowing he already knows, but you still want to say it anyway.

"were we friends? where did we meet?"

he sucks the flavouring off his thumb. it starts snowing a little. Don Quijote is no longer lit up and noisy as they start closing up the store.

"here." he looks down to the packaging in his hands and folds it nicely before throwing it in the trash. you tilt your head to the side, obviously extremely confused and a little nervous.

"we met here, two winters ago. i was lost as i was new to tokyo, and you bought me this snack as a cheer up before walking with me to my hotel."

"...and?" you grin, patiently awaiting for the rest of his response. it felt good to know you were nice to him back then 一 that this place was also coincidentally where you'd first met him with him eating the same snack that you bought for him.

a light layer of snow starts covering your head and shoulders, but he is warm when he moves closer to you and pats them away gently.

he then slides his hand down to rest it on the back of your head.

and he kisses your forehead.

you think you want to melt away like the snow on the ground. you think the empty feeling inside of you has been filled and you don't ever want him to leave again.

you think you have found what you have been searching for so feverishly after losing your memories.

"i loved you before."

you don't move in his arms when he snakes them around your figure 一 as he pushes you anymore closer to himself, into his chest.

you hear his heart beat for you before your ears.

"i still do."

in chinese we have this term of endearment: 心肝宝贝 (xin gan bao bei) which is a very cheesy endearment for a loved one, commonly used by parents for their child, but it can be used between lovers as well.

心 xin (heart) | 肝 gan (liver) | 宝贝 bao bei (baby/sweetie for endearment, commonly used between lovers) = basically saying that you are just as important as my heart and liver

i was picturing rin saying this to her in his heart when he was hugging and pushing her to his chest :(((

[xxchumanixx]

Thought Contagion

Bucky Barnes x reader

Summary: After a one night stand he ghosted you. When forced to talk, the lines slowly start to blur. Warnings/Tags: hurt, angst, fluff in the end, mentions of a one night stand, reader has the ability to communicate via thoughts and move objects Word count: 4.397 Authors note: I just love him. Do I need to say more? It's 4 am, and I'm dead. So this might make no sense at all, but hey I somehow managed to write this delusional on tiredness.

Dr. Raynor's office

The clock on the wall ticked steadily, almost matching your heartbeat.

"Did you dream of him again?" she wanted to know, eyes closely watching you.

"No, I haven't dreamt of him in a long time now... but he contacted me." you gave back, fingers interlocked, fumbling with each other.

"Did he call you? Text?"

"No, he contacted me through my thoughts."

"That he can do?"

"When the will is there, yes."

"There has to be a deep connection between you for him to do that."

"No... not anymore."

"So there was a connection."

"Was. It doesn't exist anymore."

"What happened between you two?"

"We slept with each other. And after he left without me noticing, I never heard of him again."

She nodded to herself, carefully considering what you told her.

"Do you have feelings for him?"

"I've had feelings for him for almost ten years now."

You knew it wasn't right, not like this. When you first saw him, it was at the museum, Steve telling you everything about him. How brave he was, courageous and caring. How he looked after Steve, when no one else was left.

You developed feelings for someone who didn't even exist anymore, at least that was what everyone thought.

Who would have known, that he was still alive, breathing and killing.

"Do you know him this long?" she asked, head tilted.

"No. I met him, after Steve brought him back. I was there, when they brought him to Wakanda and I visited him during his rehabilitation. Then, when Thanos blib'd us, he was gone. And after he returned a few months ago, it just happened. I don't know if it was frustration, after Steve left us, or what else it was, but we lost control for a moment."

"Control over what? Your feelings?"

"He doesn't have any feelings for me."

"Are you sure about that?"

"Why do you think he ghosted me?" you chuckled dryly, brows furrowed as you looked at her like she was an alien.

You had to bite your lip not to snarl at her, send biting words her way. She was only trying to help you, had been for a few months now.

But sometimes, she didn't seem to understand you.

"Maybe because he was scared? Didn't know how to handle his feelings?" she suggested, cocking a brow.

"No, James Barnes doesn't have such feelings - only sadness and anger." you told her, the bitter feeling of guilt stinging on your tongue.

"Was it these feelings, that led to him sleeping with you? His anger, his sadness?"

"A moment of weakness, nothing more."

She wrote something into her notebook, before she tapped her pen on the paper. "What did he want?"

"He wanted me to help him."

You flinched, when suddenly a sharp pain tore through your head.

What the hell?

"Y/N?"

You believed you heard a voice, one that sounded painfully familiar.

"Y/N?" There it was again, and you sighed shakily, feelings starting to mix in a dangerous cocktail. "James?" you answered in a thought, eyes closing, as you tried not to betray your feelings with a quiver of your voice.

It must have taken him a lot to contact you through your thoughts.

You were a telepath, able to communicate via thoughts, as well as moving objects through the air. But it took a lot of willpower, to contact you through your thoughts, especially when it was over such a great distance.

And by someone like James Buchanan Barnes.

"Oh thank god." you heard him mumble, as your belly churned.

After you've spent the night together and he left, you hadn't heard from him. Why would he contact you like that of all ways? Why contact you at all?

"What do you want?" you returned coldly, teeth gritted, as you sat up in bed. You were just about to sleep, already tucked under your covers, when he contacted you.

The anger bubbling up in your stomach made it hard for you to concentrate, but the curiosity was the slightest bit stronger.

"I need your help."

Eyes widening, you fumed. Hands clenched into fists, the books in the bookcase started to rattle, trinkets threatening to tumble over.

Oh, the nerve he had - he had to be fucking kidding you.

"You need my help?" you seethed, not able to contain the angry chuckle that escaped your lips. "You have to be kidding me."

It was silent for a few moments and you started to think he might have cut the connection, when you heard him sigh.

"I-" he started, but was cut off by another voice. "What are you doing?" you heard the voice ask - Sam. "Are you praying or something?"

You could basically hear Bucky's eyes roll in their sockets, as he sighed angrily. "No, I'm not." he retorted, scoffing. "I'm-" he cut himself off this time, most likely rubbing the stubble on his chin. "I'm talking to Y/N."

It was silent for another moment, before you heard Sam again. "How? Where's your phone? Or are you communicating through prayers?"

Rolling your eyes, you shook your head.

"Forgot that she can communicate via thought?" Bucky gave back, sounding fed up. "That's possible?" Sam sounded surprised. "Over this distance? What do you want from her anyways? Thought you guys aren't talking."

Cocking a brow you huffed, and you heard Bucky stutter incoherently, eventually finding his words. "No- I-I mean, yes. We need her help if we want to find them!"

"Find whom?" you wanted to know, scrambling for the laptop that was under your bed, flipping it open, despite your better judgement. "What happened anyways?" Sam questioned, his curiosity getting the best of him.

Since when were they teaming up?

"Did you hear about the group 'Flagsmashers'?" Bucky asked, focusing back on you. "Of course, do you think I live under a rock?" you scoffed in return.

He rolled his eyes, you swear he did.

"Well, they plan something big and we can't find them." he explained, ignoring Sam who was still demanding an answer. "We need satellite pictures or video or whatever. Sharon can't hack into them."

"Sharon?" you retorted, huffing. You hadn't seen her since she had to flee, now knowing why. She must have holed up wherever Sam and Bucky where. "What makes you think I have access to satellites wherever you are?"

He hesitated, as you grew impatient.

"And what exactly makes you think I'd help you?"

He must have been very desperate if he contacted you of all people.

"After all I thought we weren't talking?"

He was frustrated, you could tell. You could feel it seeping into your bones.

"They are killing dozens of innocent people!" he explained, anger and frustration filtering through his voice. "Could you please help us? I wouldn't ask if I had another option."

I wouldn't ask you of all people.

"Already on it." you mumbled, as you were already typing on your laptop, telling yourself you were doing this for the innocent people he mentioned, ignoring your aching heart.

The group he was talking about was all over the news lately, gathering more followers each day. They were a threat, and no matter how much you despised talking to Bucky, you knew you had to help them.

Going through the various pictures, you scanned them for the group. "Found 'em." you announced, zooming in on a picture.

"I'll send Sam the location."

Bucky made a noise like he wanted to protest, say something like 'Why not sent it to me?', but he must have remembered that you weren't talking.

"Thank you." you heard him mutter, before he abruptly cut the connection, leaving you wide awake.

Closing your eyes you tried to hold back the tears. It was pointless crying over him, you did for a while now.

It never changed anything for you.

But, as Bucky was forming a plan with Sam, he could hear it clear as day - the single sob that managed to spill, leaving him wondering if he really heard it, or if he just imagined it.

"Did you help him?" Dr. Raynor asked, brows furrowed. She as well had heard about the group of terrorists, and she had talked to Sam and Bucky not long ago.

"I had to." you retorted, huffing.

"Why? Because he asked you to?"

"Because it was the right thing to do."

"Because of this group they are trying to stop?"

"Yes."

She nodded to herself, biting her cheek.

"How do you feel about John Walker being the new Captain America?"

Your eyes snapped to hers, hands stopping their trembling. "Don't call him that."

"Why not? Doesn't he fit your expectations?"

You chuckled dryly, smirking at her. "My expectations?" you wanted to know, leaning forward with a cocked brow. "Steven Grant Rogers was my best friend. He was my anchor, and when he left, living a life in the past with Peggy Carter, he fulfilled his greatest wish. Do I hate him for leaving me behind? Yes, I do. But I support him and his decision nonetheless. He gave the shield to Sam, who gave it away. Who am I to have expectations, when my biggest hope of someone worthy stepping into these massive footprints has been so utterly disappointed?"

Her forehead creased in thought, tapping the pen on the notebook again. The sound was so familiar already, that you had started to ignore it a long time ago.

"John Walker is said to be a good man. Don't you think he will make a good replacement for Captain America?"

"He can be good all he wants, wear the medals he obtained with pride - but he'll never be like us. The Avengers, people that gave everything for others, never once thinking about ourselves. Did we get any medals when we stopped Thanos? When Tony undid the blib, sacrificing himself? No. My best friend - my sister - died, forcing my dad to forever feel guilty for not dying in her place. Can she be replaced? No. Just as Steve can't be replaced. But Sam was the best option to be the next Cap."

"You're dad?"

"Clint. He took me under his wing almost fifteen years ago. He's the dad I never had."

She nodded, scribbling something down again.

"Will you talk to him again?"

Your brows furrowed, remembering the conversation you had with your dad only this morning.

"James."

Sighing, you leaned back against the cushions again, crossing your arms over your chest.

"No."

"Why not?"

"Why not?" you repeated her words, anger bubbling up yet again, as your eyes widened in disbelieve. "James Buchanan Barnes ghosted me after we had sex, only contacting me to get my help. After that, he ghosted me again. And you're asking why not?"

She heaved a sigh, glancing at her watch only to see that she had another thirty minutes with you.

It wasn't that she didn't like you, but you reminded her of Bucky in your stubborn and deflective ways.

"Maybe you should." she spoke, tilting her head. "Talk to him, demand answers as to why exactly he ghosted you."

Scoffing, you stood, feeling the sudden urge to leave, get the hell out of there.

"Sit." she demanded sharply, the tapping of her pen coming to a halt.

Groaning, you did.

"Why don't you help them in trying to stop this group of terrorists for starters?" she suggested, leaning forwards on her elbows, that were resting on her thighs. "And maybe you can talk to him afterwards."

You laughed at her suggestion, declaring her insane.

But you couldn't deny the aching in your heart at the prospect.

You yearned for his touch, his scent, his voice. The way his fingertips ghosted over your skin, lips brushing over the shell of your ear as he whispered sweet nothings into it, hips connecting with yours over and over again.

Dr. Raynor smirked, like she was able to read your thoughts. She wasn't, though she still seemed to know exactly what you were thinking.

Cheeks reddening, you cleared your throat, deciding that you were in need of another topic.

"How was your weekend?"

____

You hated this.

Why exactly did she manage to convince you to follow them, again?

You were late, seeing as the whole scene was crowded, the Flagsmashers already captured, their leader dead. She was a young girl, barely old enough to drink legally.

You were standing at the rear of the ambulance, watching Sam and Bucky who were stood at the front, backs turned towards you. They didn't know you were there yet, talking to each other.

Your heart was thundering in your chest, and you were scared Bucky could hear it with his super soldier hearing.

You were contemplating if you should turn around and hurry the fuck out of there, but it was too late, when they turned instead, heading towards you.

They hadn't seen you yet, but when Sam looked up, his steps faltered, causing Bucky to look your way as well. He stopped dead in his tracks, jaw slack, before it clenched.

Sam hesitantly closed the distance, whilst Bucky was glued to the spot.

"Hey." he voiced, glancing back at the frozen super soldier. "I'll leave you to talk."

"What if I don't want to?"

"You should."

He patted you on the shoulder, before he left for someone that called out to him.

Your hands trembled, your whole body trembled, as you both stared at each other. Neither of you knew what to say, neither wanting to be the first to speak.

"Should have expected you to turn up here." he muttered, and you scoffed. "Believe me, I'm not here because I wanted to be." you retorted as equally cold, shoving your hands into the pockets of your jacket.

He cocked a brow, mimicking the movement, his arm reflecting the light. "Why are you here then?" he wanted to know, fighting the urge to lean against the ambulance.

He didn't want to come over as relaxed, because he definitely wasn't with you standing in front of him.

Not anymore.

He hadn't expected you to show up, he had hoped you wouldn't.

"I wanted to see if you need more help with the Flagsmashers." you explained, looking past him. "You already helped enough with the location." he returned, unwavering.

Nodding, you bit your lip, looking away.

He was shoving you away, again.

"Well, then I suppose I will go." you spoke, swallowing. "Should have expected not to be welcomed."

You didn't mean to say it out loud, really. It just slipped through somehow.

His brows furrowed, eyes narrowing. "Welcomed?" he asked, taking a step closer as his head tilted. "No one invited you. You didn't need to come."

Huffing, you nodded again.

"Well, and no one invited you." you retorted sharply, looking back up at him. "Yet you came as well, before you left without a word."

His jaw clenched, teeth gritted.

"But hey, lets not talk about it, its not worth mentioning anyways."

You wanted to scratch his ego, your own lying broken in a corner. It worked, as he took another step closer, head tilted. Lowering his voice, he spoke exactly what you were expecting him to.

"Didn't sound not 'worth mentioning' it, considering the way you cried my name out for everyone in the building to hear."

You shivered involuntarily, trying not to let him see, though.

He wasn't wrong, but you wouldn't have him know that.

"Really? Maybe I'm just a good actress."

He scoffed, chuckling dryly.

"Just as good as you're at sneaking out."

He fumed at your words, face hardening. His arm whirred quietly, so hard he must have been clenching his hands into fists.

You stared each other down, as your heart silently begged for you to stop. But you were caught in the moment, caught in your anger and hurt.

When neither of you said anything for a good minute, you shook your head and turned around, starting to walk away.

You should have known he wouldn't talk to you.

"Do you think it was easy?" he shouted after you, causing you to halt in your movement.

"Do you think it was easy? After everything that happened, being turned to dust, returning, only for Steve to leave me behind?"

You turned back around, scoffing. "He didn't leave only you." you reminded him, voice harsh. "He left Sam and I as well. He left us all behind, staying in the past to spend his life with Peggy - the only wish he ever had. He was selfish, yes, but he knew we'd manage."

He shook his head, biting his cheek.

"I failed him."

You couldn't help but laugh, frustration growing thicker. "Why do you think so?"

His eyes were glued to the floor, before he looked back up at you.

"I tried, but I didn't manage." he explained, taking a step closer, partly closing the distance you had created. "I spiraled downwards, losing control. I-" he cut himself off, eyes flitting to the sky above you, as he licked his lips, before he looked back at you.

"I lost the little ounce of control I had left when I let you in." he continued, shaking his head, as he bit down on his cheek, the sting momentarily distracting him from his raging heart. "When we- when we spent that night together, I panicked. I hadn't done something like that since the forties, and I didn't want to drag you down into the hole I was falling into."

You had to swallow, eyes stinging, even though you did your best to ignore it.

"And what about me?" you wanted to know, clearing your throat, as your voice quivered. "What about the hole I was falling into?"

His jaw ticked, and he swallowed.

When he didn't answer, you continued.

"You left me behind, in the moment I was the most vulnerable. I needed you, and you left - as well."

He shook his head, hand brushing through his hair. "You don't need me."

"I shouldn't need you." you corrected him, shaking your head with a frown, as you took a step closer. "When Steve first told me about you, showing me your picture at the museum I knew I was done for. Hell, when you stood in front of me, breathing and not dead, like you were believed to be, I thought I was dreaming. I envied Steve, because he made you sound like the best person on earth."

He scoffed, but didn't interrupt you further, eyes downcast.

"I wanted to get to know you, wanted to see if Steve was right." you continued, fighting a smile, losing. "He was, and when we spent more time together, I started to see what he saw. And then you turned into dust. The whole world tilted, for five years. You were gone, Sam, my dad and my whole family suddenly vanished. And when you returned I was so happy - only for you to leave me again. I know it probably didn't mean anything to you, but for me it did."

You breathed in shakily, stopping your own rambling, heart hammering in your chest, threatening to break through.

"You're wrong." he muttered, swallowing, as he locked eyes with you. "It did mean something to me - it meant the whole world to me. You didn't judge me, no matter what I did. You made me forget. You where there the whole time, accompanying me the whole way. But when Steve-" he choked on his breath, shaking his head with tears glistening in his eyes.

"I lost it. And I couldn't risk bringing you in harms way - my way. I didn't want to hurt you."

Sniffing, you bit on your cheek, almost drawing blood.

"But you did." you whispered, tears making your eyes burn, blurring your sight. "You did, when you pushed me away. You where the only constant I had left, and you pushed me away."

He nodded, sniffing as well. "I know, doll." he spoke, biting his lip. "I know."

Even though you felt a weight lift from your shoulders, it didn't feel as relieving as it should have. A tear fell, but you didn't brush it away.

You fell silent, lost in thought.

Somehow, you just confessed your feelings to him, stripped them bare for him to see. Leaving you even more vulnerable.

Your fingers tapped on your thigh in a nervous habit, wishing you could read Bucky's mind. Even though you were able to communicate via thought, you weren't actually able to read other peoples thoughts.

"Will you forgive me?" he suddenly rasped out, eyes staying a second longer on the ground, before they found yours, hope glistening in them. He sounded so broken, so vulnerable, like you never heard him before.

"Please, Y/N."

You swallowed at the nerves bubbling up, slowly starting to nod. "Yes, Bucky." you breathed out, sniffing. "Yes, I forgive you."

How were you supposed to stay angry at him, after what he just told you? After everything that had happened?

He breathed a sigh of relief, nodding to himself, as his eyes closed for a moment.

A tear slipped past his eyelashes, and he bit his lip. You had only seen him cry once, causing you to inhale shakily at the memory.

He wiped at the salty liquid, before his eyes opened again, his feet taking him closer to you, until he was as close as he was the last time you had seen him in person.

You could smell his familiar cologne, feel the heat his body radiated.

His flesh fingers hesitantly moved, brushing a few stray strands of hair out of your face, softly cupping your cheek. The action made you shiver, goosebumps covering your arms, as you leaned into his warm touch the slightest bit, eyes locked onto his blue ones.

"I'm so sorry, doll." he rasped out, eyes fighting to stay on yours. "I did what I thought was best for you, but I know now, that I was wrong. I'm having nightmares again, but I'm working on it. I'm working on everything, trying to get a bit of the old me back to life - the one Steve had told you all these stories about."

You knew about his nightmares, even though they were different now, thanks to the Dora Milaje who had managed to free him of the Winter Soldier state.

He didn't turn into him anymore, not for the briefest of moments. Something he would forever be grateful for.

"I'm an idiot." he mumbled, eyes leaving yours, his hand leaving your face, falling back at his side with his head downcast. "I never should have left - never should have let this happen. I should have listened to Dr. Raynor."

You cocked a brow at his words, head tilting to somehow meet his gaze. "What do you mean?"

He sighed heavily, swallowing, as his nerves got the best of him. "I mean that I should have talked to you, instead of just leaving you behind." he explained, tongue brushing over his lip, hesitating. "Should have told you how I feel."

You inhaled sharply, hands starting their nervous trembling at your sides again.

"What do you feel?" you managed to breathe out, and his eyes met yours again, the intensity of his gaze stealing your breath.

His lips parted, only for his tongue to wet them again. He searched for the right words, soon giving up and opting for the simpler option instead.

"I love you, Y/N."

Your breathing hitched, heart stumbling, before it doubled its speed.

"You're pure, soft and so lovingly." he continued, hands cupping your face. There the words were. "You never once judged me, not even in my darkest hours. You're the thing that kept me going, made me push through to get rid of the Winter Soldier. I wanted to be better - for you. But I fucked up, so badly. I fell into an old habit, pushing you away so you wouldn't get hurt, but instead I did exactly that: hurting you. And I'm a fucking coward for pushing you away, and not pulling you closer instead, now that I'm actually able to."

Words had left you, only tears managed to spill. He brushed them away with his thumbs, one cold and one warm, yet they were both so soft.

His eyes closed, forehead brushing yours. Your eyes fluttered closed as well, breathing him in.

"Working with Sam on this distracted me enough to forget it for a moment." he spoke quietly, leaving you to wonder how exactly that had happened. "But I was selfish when I contacted you, asking for help. I wanted to hear your voice, even if you would have just shouted at me, telling me to never talk to you again."

You bit your lip, more tears falling.

"I would have never." you told him, eyes squinting, even though they were already closed. "I love you too much."

His body moved abruptly, a sob breaking through his lips. It was one of relief and deep shame.

He nodded, his forehead leaving yours to press kisses to your face. Your cheeks, your forehead, your nose, until he finally met your lips with his own.

You tasted the salty remnants of your combined tears on your lips, but neither of you cared. Hands wrapping around his neck, brushing through his hair, you tugged him closer.

Something wet hit your cheek, but you couldn't tell if it were your tears, or his.

His hands on your cheeks tilted your head back, deepening the kiss. His tongue brushed yours, an action so soft it left you yearning for more.

When his lips left yours, you sighed, eyes slowly opening to meet his blue ones. His lips were kiss swollen, but so were yours.

"He took the shield." Bucky breathed out with shining eyes, fingers dancing through your hair. Nodding, you couldn't help but smile. "I know. Finally."

He chuckled quietly, before his lips connected with yours again.

"Now that this mission is complete, I'm all yours." he promised, forehead meeting yours again. "I won't ever do the mistake of pushing you away again, I promise."

You smiled, feeling the tears return, happy ones this time.

"I'm yours." he repeated, lips meeting your cheek. "I'm yours."

"I know." you returned, eyes fluttering closed.

"And I'm yours."

[southern-fried-simpin]

We Belong Dead| Alastor x Dead Wife!Reader

A/n: Hey everyone I know it’s been a LONG time since I’ve written something and I’m sorry it’s not DC related but I finished Hazbin with my fiancée MONTHS AGO and I’ve been wanting to write Alastor soooo bad! With all of that being said, let it be known that I do NOT condone or agree with any of the questionable actions and opinions of Vivienne Medrano, but I DO enjoy this show and a lot of the characters.

Warning(s): Floofy but suggestive, Alastor “using” reader and reader just kind of going along with it, mentions of murder, sad at first, human Alastor and reader mentioned, temporary unrequited love, Demi romantic Alastor, Alastor because he’s…Alastor, mentions of marriage, canon divergence, suicide, death, loooooong introduction and plot h🫠

“Mama, we’re gonna get married!”

Alastor had decided that you were both ready for marriage in the middle of the school yard and decided to announce this as his mother came to pick him up.

His mother feigned shock as she started to playfully chide him.

“You can’t just marry some girl you met on the first day of school!”

Alastor kept his arms around you as you both giggled and showed his mother the ribbon he had tied around your finger.

“Oh my!” She exclaimed.

“Obviously you two are very serious about this! How about we have your fiancée over for dinner after school one day so I can get to know her better, hm?”

Despite Alastor never having that wedding ceremony with you on the playground, you both remained close all the way up until you graduated high school. After that, you went your separate ways.

Several years later, when Alastor bumped into you as you were leaving the corner store one day, you ended up talking to him for hours. After which, you had started getting together more often. Eating out, going to shows, drinking and having fun together.

Somewhere along the way, however, having fun together turned into going on dates together. Going on dates turned into staying up late talking for hours about anything and everything, and lovely gifts.

One such gift being your engagement ring.

Looking back on it now, you don’t know how or why you thought it was normal for a man to propose after 6 months.

On the outside, Alastor was the husband that every woman dreamed of. He helped you clean and cook, he never raised his voice, and he always bragged about you. On the inside however, something felt stiff. Tense. Off.

Alastor rarely ever initiated kisses, he barely touched you, and he disappeared in the middle of the night rather frequently.

After he was killed, it all made sense. You weren’t his wife so much as you were his alibi. Who would have thought the vicious killer that buried his victims on a hunting ground had a wife waiting at home? A wife who, despite what everyone believed, was oblivious to his crimes. It didn’t matter, though. In a matter of days, you lost your job, your friends, and your peace of mind. In the weeks that came to pass, you slowly lost your mind and your will to live as well.

You died in your sleep after taking a cocktail of pills with a glass of brandy. The police found you in bed wearing your most expensive nightgown, your hair neatly styled, and makeup done perfectly.

Just like before, time had gone on, and your time in hell had been quite interesting. Maybe even a bit enjoyable if you were being honest. The old saying rang true: Hell truly had no fury like a woman scorned. Your arrival in Hell was a testament to that.

Armed with your broken heart and raw, stinging rage, you made a home for yourself and began your own business. Anyone who got in your way was sliced open with the very weapons you sold. You were very aware of Alastor’s presence, but made no effort to contact him. He had no idea you were here, either.

That changed a few days ago.

Who should you see while on an outing in Cannibal Town but your darling husband. He looked different, but you recognized him almost immediately. He offered to walk with you and followed you even after you declined. Every day after that, he miraculously ran into you everywhere you went. He was relentless in trying to get your attention. He would try to talk to you and when you ignored him, he would carry on speaking like it was nothing. Today you finally cracked when he invited you to come to a hotel. The Hazbin Hotel, specifically.

“Why?”

“Well, I thought I might show you this little…business venture…I’ve been working on recently! After all, it’s been awhile since I’ve seen my lovely wi-“

“Don’t call me that.” You spat.

His smile never faltered, but his eyes held a look of momentary discomfort.

“Ah, and here we are!” Alastor pointed his staff towards the building in front of you. It looked like some place from when you were alive, except old and decrepit.

Ever the gentleman, Alastor held the door for you as you walked in before he followed suit. Not 5 minutes passed before a woman with long silver hair angrily stomped in your direction.

“Alastor! Where have y-,” she paused when she noticed you by his side, “who…who the fuck is this?” A blonde was following close behind her.

“I’m glad you asked!” Alastor’s smile broadened. He proceeded to introduce you as his beloved wife to everyone in the room, and then introduced them to you, completely ignoring the looks of shock and awe on their faces. Before anyone else in the room could speak, Alastor hastily took your hand.

“Now, if you excuse us, we have some things to discuss.” With that, you and Alastor promptly dissolved into a shadowy mist.

The lobby was silent then as everyone stared at where Alastor and you once stood.

“Ssso…that was weird for everyone elsse too…right?”

Meanwhile, upstairs, Alastor turned after carefully locking the door to his room.

“Now, I suppose I owe you an explana—“, he was cut off by a resounding smack when your hand connected with his cheek. Alastor’s head turned with a sharp snap. He stood completely still there for a moment, eyes wide and smile looking painfully forced. If it had been anyone else, they would’ve been dead by now, but you? Well…he always liked how feisty you were. Alastor cleared his throat before speaking again.

“Alright…”, he said while turning to face you. “I probably deserved that…”

“You deserve a lot worse than that actually, but go on.”

“I know, and I can’t…” Alastor suddenly felt unsure of what to say. Granted, The Radio Demon was not one for heartfelt apologies (or any apologies for that matter) but if anyone deserved one from him, it was you. Yet, there he stood: the feared Radio Demon, lost for words at your mere presence.

There was a long and uncomfortable silence.

“Do you have any idea what you did to me?” You finally said. “What I suffered because of you?!”

Alastor offered no response.

“What FUCKING-“ you paused as tears began to well in your eyes. Your face red and splotchy and your lips quivering as you started to sob.

“You lied to me-“

“I did.”

“You used me!”

“I did.”

“You told me you loved me!”

“I do.”

And that gave you pause. Had he loved you? Really loved you? No. It had to be a lie. He couldn’t possibly-

“I know I can’t make up for everything I did and everything that happened…” Alastor said while walking towards you. When he stopped, just a few inches from you, you had to look up at him. Alastor was taller than you in life, but now he towered over you. He gently took your hand in his. “But I’ll spend the rest of eternity trying…for you.”

You watched as he gently kissed your fingers. With tears in your eyes and an uneven breath, you laid your head on his chest.

You missed him. You tried not to miss him, but you did and there was no use in denying it anymore.

“One chance,” you finally said. “That’s all you get.”

“That’s all I’m asking.”

You looked up at Alastor and locked eyes with him briefly. The feared Radio Demon wanted nothing more right now than a chance to have you back. His eyes flitted between your lips and your eyes before he dipped you low. To anyone else, it would be an over-the-top gesture, but to you? Oh, how his theatrics made you blush and swoon.

“So…what do you say, darling?” He leaned in closer, almost touching his forehead to yours.

“Do we have a deal?~”

You raised a brow at his words.

He chuckled then.

“Ah, I apologize for my poor choice of words. What I meant was: May I have the honor of courting you, my dear?”

Your eyes softened and you smiled up at him.

“Yes, darling.”

[charlie-lec-stories]

Nightmares // CL16 & MV1

Pairing: Charles Leclerc / Original Female Character / Max Verstappen

Summary: Everyone deals with their own battle, but they are always easier faced together.

Warnings: Abusive parenting, homophobia, abandonment issues, sexism, grief and childhood trauma.

Author’s Note: This is about companionship, we all deal with our own pain and we all have a past that still haunts us. This is about facing those battles hand in hand with the people you love. I wrote this some time ago, listening to 'Return the favor' and 'Therapy', both by All Time Low, and 'The only exception' by Paramore. I highly recommend listen to those tracks. I hope you like the story. Rate: +16 (descriptions of violence)

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The cold wind from outside filtered through a small dent on Max's bedroom window and the contact it made with his uncovered skin made him shiver. He thought about all the other punishments he had endured before over his 16 years of life and he assured himself that it could have gotten worse. Spending the winter night on his bedroom floor, in underwear, was way better than when he had to spend a week sleeping in the back yard because he came in second on an important race. It was also better than when his father left him alone in that gas station, the fear so intense that he ended up crying on the bathroom floor, hiding from the strangers around. At least he was in his home, in his room and he had his stuffed lion to keep him company. He gripped it tightly, feeling a little stupid for keeping such a childish object when he was that old, but it was the only thing that brought him a little comfort. He thought about his mother, who gave him the lion, and wondered what his life would be like if he had stayed with his mom and sister instead of his father. Would he be happier? Would he be as good at racing as he was? Would his mother have accepted him for who he was? He had an answer for that one: Yes. His mother would have chosen to love him anyways, he was sure of that. He wished, with his whole heart, to close his eyes and wake up in a better place, where he was loved for who he was. So he closed his eyes and waited for his wish to come true.

Max woke up in a cold sweat, he could still feel his fingers and toes frozen, the floor against his bare legs. A decade had passed from that night, but he still had nightmares about it once in a while. His childhood always came back whenever he was stressed or with low batteries. It was like his brain tried to sabotage him, filling him with more pain than he already felt. He looked to his left and found Charles sound asleep, his arms under the pillow, bringing it closer to his face, a peaceful look adorning his features. He knew that Charles had his own battles, and that he dreamed of his own nightmares, but how he wished he had the kind of father Charles had. Hervé was a loving husband and parent and even though he left this Earth way too early, he left a wonderful mark on everyone who knew him. His children loved him, his wife Pascale loved him. What did his father do? He also left marks, his mom had an order of protection against him, his sister was terrified of him, and Max did everything he could to run away as far as possible so he didn't have to be near him. If he could, he would bring back Hervé and give up his father. With a sigh and feeling a little guilty for his thoughts, he finally got up. He had to look for his girl, who was definitely hiding somewhere instead of being in bed with them.

The sky was still pretty dark outside, the stars shining on Monaco's natural ceiling, the full moon big over the Mediterranean Sea. He found her sitting on the floor of the balcony, a cigarette between her lips and her eyes lost in the waves that crashed rhythmically on the beach. Charles hated when she smoked, so she did it outside, so the stick of the nicotine wouldn't stay on her clothes. Max didn't like it either, but he tolerated the habit because he knew that it helped her calm down, one day he would make her switch to something healthier. Some day. Before stepping out, he caught a glimpse of the beloved lion on one of the living room shelves, so he grabbed it and hugged it close, a familiar calmness running all over his body. If she heard him walk out, she didn't show, but she must definitely have noticed his presence when he sat down next to her. They were used to the silent conversations, they had had them their whole friendship. Secret gazes, millimetric gestures that only they could read, the changes on each other's skins when the other was around. They were used to the effect they had on each other, so he knew that she felt him there when the hairs of her arms stood up and her breathing changed, because even if she didn't say anything, her body did.

"Which one was it this time?". She asked, not even looking at him.

"The night I came out". He had said it so many times that his voice didn't break anymore.

"That one is tough". The comment was swallowed by the poof she gave to the cigarette, but he got it.

"It was. It always comes back whenever I'm happy with you, but angry at racing". And it made sense, after all the punishment wasn't only for coming out of the closet, it was also because Jos was sure that 'the queerness' of Max would make him a mediocre driver.

"You know that losing this championship wasn't your lack of concentration or skill. Charles is as great as us, and for the love of God, Ferrari finally did things right for once". He knew that, still, he lost and he always had a hard time losing. He lost in 2024 against her, he lost in 2025 against Charles, would he ever be able to win again? "You are a 3 times World Champion, Max. You don't owe anything to anyone, and I can assure you that you're not mediocre".

He pulled her close and took her cigarette away, she was about to complain when he pressed his lips against hers, kissing her deeply. He believed her, every word, and he was grateful that he had her to remind him of the amazing person he was and could be. They pulled apart when they heard movement inside, the curtains of the living room moving aside as Charles walked out to the balcony. Sleep was still written all over his face, but he woke up fully pretty quickly when he felt the dense atmosphere that wrapped them up. He walked over to them, a mixture of curiousness and worry in his eyes as he scanned them over. They pulled apart to make some room for him to sit in the middle, Charles noticed the lion and the cigarettes, understanding the situation. Resting his back against the building's wall, he pulled them to his chest and ran his hands up and down their arms, hoping for it to be enough. He saw Max's grip tighten around the old stuffed animal, the marks of his pyton's grip over the years clear on it. Charles pulled him a little bit closer and kissed his head.

"You're anything but ordinary".

She did all she could to get loose, but the grip on her arm was so tight it was impossible to break. She screamed and kicked as her mother dragged her to the room, she wished that her racing suit was ticker, so her arm wouldn't hurt that much. Her father was crying and pleading behind them, asking for his wife to finally let go, but it was pointless, when had she ever listened to anything he had to say? The mud of her shoes drew patterns on their living room floor as they neared her bedroom and she wondered if her mother was actually going to use the chancla on her. Her body made contact with the carpeted floor of her room and her mother grabbed her face to make her look at her. She screamed at her face, about how she was a disgrace, a 'marimacho', a 'zorra' playing with the boys instead of being a 'señorita', she went on and on about the shame she brought to the family. She reminded her that no daughter of hers would do something like racing, wear the clothes she wore and go around covered in mud and filth like she did. But the girl just muted the rest of the screams, she just let her say whatever she wanted, because she was not going to stop her from chasing her dream. She had just met the best boys in the world and she was going to race those boys for the rest of her life. No matter what. She felt the chancla hit her back, but it didn't hurt her anymore, no when she knew that it was the price to pay for sneaking out to race. Her mother would change her mind one day, but for that day to come, she had to take it today. No. Matter. What.

She woke up to the sound of the front door closing. Max and Charles were probably back from the supermarket. She sighed as he got up from the couch, the feeling of the chancla still lingering on her skin. It was the worst, the rubber hitting on the same place, over and over again, but it was more hurtful to her pride. The humiliation that came with the beating, the screams, the words, the hate on her mother's eyes. She remembered that beating like it was yesterday, because it was the one that changed everything. It was the first time that, when she was finally left alone in her room, she wasn't scared anymore. That week she met Pierre and he introduced her to Max and Charles the very same day that her mother gave her that beating. Meeting the boys and winning a race against them gave her the push she needed to hold on to her dream and never let go. Her motto was born that day: 'No matter what'. She took it to heart, and kept pushing and pushing, she took as many more beatings as she had, but she kept sneaking out, even if her mother dropped the chancla to grab the wooden spoon from the kitchen, even if the skin of her hands was red and burning from the hard wood against it. She kept pushing, and she became world champion. A hand on her back brought her back to reality and she relaxed against Charles' hand once his scent made her aware of his presence.

"Which one was it?". He asked softly as he ran his hand up and down her back.

"The day we met". She admitted, Max placed the bags on the floor and walked up to them.

"It's okay, Schat, you're safe now". She smiled softly at them.

"I know. It's just that her birthday is in a few days". Charles nodded, understanding.

"You know you don't have to go if you don't want to, Amour". It was her turn to nod.

"I also know that. But she changed a lot over the years. I know that we still have out problems and that she's not a fan of our relationship, but I can see that she's trying". Max was a lot less forgiving, but he was also aware that he wasn't the one with the best record of family choices, he still visited his father.

"I agree that she seems to be trying, Amour, and I admire you a lot for being able to see that and be so forgiving. I still want you to put yourself above everything. Take care of yourself, because you're not any of those things she said. You're wonderful, and we are beyond proud of who you are, okay?". Charles placed his hand against her cheek and she snuggled against it. "We are so very proud, Amour".

Charles rubbed his nose with hers, making her giggle a little, and bringing a smile to Max's lips. It always worked, because if there was something that she needed was softness. It was something that her dad did, treat her with gentleness, with love and with trust. He always believed in her, even if he was so afraid of his wife and had to take even more beatings and insults than her. She didn't blame him, but she was sure that she would never make the same mistakes her dad made. So she looked for gentle men, men with nice words and tender touches, nothing like her mother, nothing like who her dad settled for. And she found Charles and Max, the embodiment of kindness, enough for her heart to skip a beat and her shoulders to relax under their touch. It felt good, being able to be loved, laughing on a daily basis, relying on them when she needed and giving herself the chance of being an open book, unafraid and never judged. A lonely tear fell down her cheek and Max caught it before it made it to her jaw, wiping it away with a swift movement of his thumb. It made her look at him, his blue eyes looking back at her with the same adoration they have been for the past decade. Her heart made a few jumps inside her chest. Max pressed his forehead gently against hers, making her close her eyes with him, the feeling of Charles' hand agains the skin of her back, where the burning of the chancla was just a bitter memory in the back of her mind. Max's lips barely touch hers.

"You're a dream come true".

Charles ran, his lungs burning as the air coming inside was not enough to keep his body moving. The fog around the graveyard and the darkness of the night made his heart race faster, the feeling of it threatening to jump out of his ribcage. He called their names into the silence of the dead, but he couldn't hear anything. Does sound really exist if there's no one to hear it? He passed gravestone after gravestone, the names of his family and friends written in each one of them. He cried, the tears blurring his vision as he desperately looked for their names. He didn't want to be alone, in the dark, in the cold, with the dead. The place seemed to never end, filled with all the people he loved but weren't there anymore, the air felt tight around his body, sour inside his mouth, painful coming into his lungs. He kept searching. What would he do if he couldn't find them? How could he keep on living if they weren't by his side? He couldn't be alone, he didn't want to. He needed them, he needed his friends, his family. He kept searching, because it was the only thing he could do, and as the names kept appearing he felt like his heart just couldn't take it anymore. He fell to his knees, two stones right in front of him. Suddenly, he couldn't breathe anymore, the feeling of his lungs contracting for air but nothing going in. There they were, the names he hoped to never see graved in stone, right in front of his eyes. Charles clawed at the grass, removed the dirt, he felt the cold and humid soil under his fingertips as clear as he felt the daggers inside his chest. He just wanted to pass out, to turn to dust right there so he could join them wherever they were, because no life was worth living without them. But he had had this nightmare before, so he knew, he knew that he was never going to pass out, because this was his biggest fear: living the rest of his life mourning his own.

He woke up alone in the hotel room bed, a halo of cold sweat around him and he inhaled as hard as he could to keep his lungs full. He felt a rush of calm run down his spine when he felt the air come in. He searched for the dirt under his fingernails, only to find them as clean as they were when he went to sleep last night. Getting up, he gave up the longest sigh as he gathered everything he needed to jump in the shower. He needed it, he needed to get rid of the stench of the graveyard that still lingered on his nose, the humidity of the air clenched to his skin, but mostly, he needed to wash away the feeling of loneliness that haunted him still. As the water ran down his body, cleansing him like a religious ritual taking away his sins, he felt the same tug in his heart as he did a few years back. The guilt of that feeling settled inside his belly, like a parasite eating him inside out. He remembered the fear of closeness, how he refused to accept that he loved Max and Y/N because he was terrified of ever losing them, how he had found solace in keeping a comfortable distance, how he convinced himself that he was content with loneliness. He refused to love someone because he knew that the grief is as great as the love you feel. But they found their way into his heart and now he couldn't kick them out. He was destined to suffer, to live in pain. To be alone. He heard movement outside the bathroom as he stepped out of the shower. He opened the door to find his partners changing the bedding. They knew that he hated to be alone in the hotel rooms, he ended up getting sick and tired of sleeping alone over the weekend.

"Which one was it, Poopie?". Max asked, even though the messy sheets and the shower were a big hint. He just wanted to be sure.

"The graveyard". He sat on the bed, the smell of clean sheets comforting against the odor of the humid dirt that he could still remember.

"We're still here, Charlie". She reassured him, her hand on his tight applying a little pressure to ground him there.

"But you'll leave". He replayed softly. She pressed her hand more, a little proof to his heart that they were there.

"Everyone leaves, Poopie, but that doesn't mean you'll be alone". Max sat by his side and ran his finger through his hair, a gesture that brought some warmth to his chest.

"You can't know that". The risk was just so much, too great. "The more I love you the more it'll hurt".

"We know that, because we love just as much, Charles". Max pulled him into a side hug, his head resting against the Dutchman's collarbones. "Loving is a risk and we are all afraid of taking that risk. But, I have known since I met you, that there's just one person that everyone is willing to take the risk for, and that person is you. You're the greatest man I know. Loyal, just, kind, hardworking, you are the epitome of greatness. It's impossible for someone like you to ever be alone".

It wasn't just the words, but how they reverberated inside Max's chest, in sync with his heartbeat that made Charles believe him. It was the warm feeling of Y/N's hand still on his tight. They were there, they were worth it, the fear, the pain. He would rather spend his life mourning them if it gave him the chance to have them for as long as Death allowed him. He was still a work in progress, but he was on his way to believing, trusting, risking. He felt Y/N moving to sit on his lap, her hands carefully adjusting the towel around his hips so it wouldn't loose. She pulled him away from Max and placed his head against her chest, her own heartbeat now strongly pumping against his face. It gave him peace of mind. The feeling of them there, Max's hand still on his hair, her soft hands on his face. They made him feel loved, they made him feel like there was hope in life, no matter how hard the road was. And he finally felt like he may be that special person Max told him he was. Maybe he was one of those people that'll never be alone. Maybe, just maybe, he didn't need to be so scared. Y/N pulled him away and pressed her lips to his forehead, erasing the frown that tinted his features. Maybe, he was the reason why they were willing to take the risk of loving, even if their whole lives they had only met pain and hurt. Maybe the risk was as great for them as it was for him, so maybe he was the one they risked it all for, even if they said they would never. Maybe, he was comfortable with loneliness, except when it came to them. And he knew, the moment she mumbled against him, that he was...

"You're the only exception".

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I hope you guys like this one. It's really hurt/comfort and I feel like it turned out great. Like, reblog and comment, like you guys always do. Much love!

[5starssz]

All For Me

Paige Bueckers x fem reader

Your two year relationship with collegiante basketball star Paige Bueckers ends suddenly in both of your senior year. You couldn’t seem to detach yourself from her even though Paige had seemed to move on. Once you graduated and Paige was doing her 5th year, Paige finally realizes what she lost.

All For Me- Mariah The Scientist

!Warnings! Angst

Purple= Paige

Pink=You

All For Me-Part one

One Year Ago

“Why are you doing this?”, my voice was low, heavy with all the emotions I was forced to bear in that moment. No one expects the person they thought was THE ONE to break up with them on a random Wednesday in December at 2am. Paige sat across from me as we both sat on the floor of a tight hallway in her residence hall. It was an empty hallway with no dorm rooms where we would meet. Paige’s eyes shifted down to the ground, avoiding eye contact with me. “I just can’t do this anymore”, she bluntly stated. “You’re lying Paige, i’ve done nothing but be the person you needed. I grew for you Paige, we grew together. What can’t you not do?!”, you emotionally explained. My voice being unstable due to the puddles forming in my eyes. Paige lifted her head, eyes dialed on mine. For once I couldn’t read her. There was nothing behind those blue eyes that were once filled with love. “I’m sorry”, was the last thing she said to me as she got up and walked off. ‘I’m sorry’ the last words I thought would be exchanged between us. I sat in the same spot until 4am hoping she would run back to me and say she didn’t mean anything she said, i really hoped. She didn’t.

Current

I woke up in my small disheveled apartment to my phones alarm sounding in my ear. Ive lived in this apartment since my Junior year of college. I had a showing for a house that’s up for Sale about thirty minutes from me. I did my normal morning work routine: Brush my teeth, skin care, makeup, hair, and fish for an outfit. Luckily last night I felt like being organized and picked my work outfit the night before, a grey pant suit and some black heels. I hated my work attire but I gotta do what I gotta do. I headed out a few minutes early so I could grab a coffee before I had to drive to the house. My normal coffee shop was closed so unfortunately I have to venture onto campus for coffee. ‘I’m praying i don’t see anyone’, I say to myself knowing exactly who that ‘anyone’ was. The drive isn’t far, which was the goal when I first rented the apartment. I parked in a parking lot next to the shop, walking in and immediately being hit with the scent of coffee and pastries. Due to my amazing luck, the line was extremely long. “fuck it, a girl needs her coffee”, i said quietly walking into the line. As I stood in the line I heard a large group of people laugh, it didn’t catch my attention that much to pull my eyes off my phone. The laughing continued until the sound of a breaking plate made the whole establishment fall into silence. My head quickly turned to the source of the sound. “oh my god”, I said out loud when my brain finally processed what I’ve been looking at. A group of girls in dark blue sweat suits and one standing up with her hands rested on her head. Her eyes shifted around the small shop realizing all eyes were on her. Her eyes were met with mine and my heart dropped. Her eyes grew and her hands dropped to her side. Everyone else around us had gone back to whatever they were doing before and the rest of the girls started laughing at Paige and helping clean up. Not Paige though, she remained in the same spot maintaining eye contact with me. ‘I can’t do this today’, I thought to myself breaking the eye contact with her. I can’t really tell but it looked like she was….sorry? or sad? I can’t read her like I once could. Her eye contact was so captivating, it brought back a flood of memories in that short amount of time. I was left in deep thought in the middle of this long ass line. “Hey”, the voice broke me out of my deep dive into memories. My eyes moved to the right of me to be face to face with her. “Hi Paige”, I said to her with a small smile. “You look great…..and i’ve been thinking lately and I’m sorry about how I ended things with us-“. I cut her off. “I’m sorry Paige but I don’t think this is the time or place for this conversation. I have a house showing to get to”. “I understand. I shouldn’t have dumped all this shit on you right here, right now. We can talk later?”. I grabbed my coffee off the counter and turned back to Paige. “yeah, I still have your number. See you later Paige”. I squeezed my way through the crowd of busy people and walked out the double glass doors quickly until I felt something on my arm. I stopped to turn around and saw Paige grasping onto my forearm. “Paige I-“. “I know you have to go but just know I never closed the door on us……I’m stupid as shit and thought there was someone else for me. I fucked up and i’m so sorry”. Her voice sounded like she was hurt, like she really regrets it. But she left me for someone else?! “We’ll talk Paige”. I said walking away and out of her grasp. I still can’t hate her though, I cant bring myself to hate her. My heart still beats faster for her like it did when we were deep in love, I don’t get it. The only thing I was left thinking was ‘what did that girl have on me?’

————————————————————————

to be continued….

[winchesterwild78]

The Hunter pt 2

Master List

Characters: Dean Winchester x Reader (together), Sam Winchester, Jodie Mills, Bobby Singer x Reader (Uncle/Niece)

Warnings: fluff, oral sex (female receiving), SMUT (protected sex), language, angst, hurt feelings

A/N: I’ve been working on getting some stories out and it’s driving me crazy. I’m turning this one into a series, probably short(ish), not 100% yet. This story came to me after starting Supernatural again. We all know how Dean feels about relationships, but let’s just pretend he finally gave in. 😀 

This is my own work, please do not take it or copy it without my permission. It’s based on characters from Supernatural, but doesn’t follow the timeline completely. I wrote it fast and edited it fast. Please overlook any errors. 

Minors DNI 18+

The three of you made your way back to Bobby’s house. Sam carried the food in as Dean got out of the Impala and walked over to your car. He looked it over and whistled. “Y’all did an amazing job on her sweetheart.” “Thank you. Maybe after we eat I can take you for a drive.” “Yeah, I’d like that. Look, Y/N, I really am sorry for how I acted. I’m not good at this and sometimes I say and do stupid shit.” “I get it. I’m sure it was hard hearing your dad and Bobby say those things about you. We all carry crap with us and deal with it in our own ways.” You stepped closer to him, “I can think of something you could do to make it up to me.” You smirked at him. “What’s that darlin’?” “Kiss me.”

Dean leaned you against the car and pressed his body against yours. He slowly took your head in his hands and placed his lips against yours. You could taste the whiskey he had been drinking. The kiss deepened and you moaned into his mouth. 

“Dean, I need you, I want you.” “Oh sweetheart, I want you too. We just have to be smart about it. I don’t need Bobby or my Dad chopping things off.” You giggled, “No, we definitely don’t need that. Can I come to your room or you come to my room tonight, after everyone else has gone to bed?” Dean leaned his forehead against yours, “Anything for you, birthday girl.” 

“Hey, Y/N, where are you kiddo? Food’s getting cold.” Bobby yelled from the door. “Coming, I was just showing Dean the car.” Dean kissed you again and you smiled, “Later baby. I can’t wait.” 

The two of you walked towards the house and Bobby was standing at the door. He looked at you and then at Dean and shook his head. “So Dean, how’d you like the car?” “She’s beautiful. Y’all did a great job on her, Bobby.” Bobby looked at Dean and then at you, but didn’t say anything. He just let out a little huff. 

All of you sat down to eat dinner and just chat. Bobby told you he had one last gift to give you, and thanks to John he was able to get it for you. “Now, this is something your parents had for years, they lost it on a hunt years ago when you were little. Think of it as a family heirloom. Your father bought it for your mother the day you were born. You smiled and nodded. 

Bobby handed you a small box that was wrapped. Inside the box was a heart shaped locket with a diamond in the middle. Inside was a picture of your mom holding you on one side, and your dad holding you on the other side. Tears fell from your eyes. “Oh Uncle Bobby, this is perfect! Thank you!.” You leaped up and threw your arms around him. “Well it was John and Dean who actually found it, but you’re welcome honey.” You hugged John and Dean next. “Thank you both so much. This means more to me than anything.” You placed a kiss on John’s cheek and on Dean’s. 

Bobby and John knew right then you were smitten with the oldest Winchester brother. They both looked at each other and sighed. Bobby brought out the pie with a candle in it and they all sang “Happy Birthday”. You made a wish and blew out the candle, making eye contact with Dean. You didn’t think Bobby saw it, but he did. 

After the pie was gone, the evening was drawing to a close. You were getting tired, well that’s what you let everyone believe. You thanked everyone again and told everyone good night. Before you went upstairs Bobby pulled you to the side, “Y/N, I see how you’re looking at Dean. I know I could tell you to stay away from him until I’m blue in the face, but I know you’re just as stubborn as I am. So, all I’m going to say is be careful. He’s a great guy, but he has so many walls up and I don’t want to see you get hurt.” You hugged him, “I know Uncle Bobby, Dean definitely has walls up, but we all do. The ones that you’re meant to be with are the ones strong enough to kick those walls down. You, Mom and Dad raised me to be strong, and I think I’m strong enough to kick down his walls. I love you, Uncle Bobby.” “I love you too, sweetpea, and I trust you. Go kick those walls down.” You smiled, nodded and went upstairs.

A few minutes later in your room there was a knock on your door. You opened the door to see Dean standing there in his t-shirt and gray sweatpants. “Hey sweetheart, you mind if I come in?” “Not at all.” You smiled and stepped to the side. As soon as you closed the door, Dean’s lips were on yours. You moaned into his mouth as his hands ran up your body.

You both laid on the bed as his hand continued to explore your body. Goosebumps erupted over your skin and his lips left a trail of fire any place they touched. You felt the slick pooling between your legs and an ache you knew only he could satisfy. Dean pulled his shirt over his head and off his body in one fluid pull. Your hands trailed over his toned chest and across the freckles that scattered across his sun kissed skin. “Dean, should we wait until everyone is asleep?” “Dad and Bobby went to the bar and Sammy is asleep. I’m all yours.” 

Your breath hitched. “Are you okay? We can stop if you want to.” Dean asked. “No, I’m fine, just a little nervous.” “I’ve got you baby, and if at any time you get uncomfortable, we can stop.” You nodded, “Okay, Dean.” 

Dean pulled at your shirt and removed it. Since you were ready for bed you didn’t have a bra on so your perky breasts were exposed when he removed your shirt. “Damn you’re beautiful.” You blushed as Dean’s lips trailed to your breasts. His hands cupping them as his lips peppered kisses on them, and his tongue licked your nipples. You moaned and threw your head back as he licked and sucked. 

Dean kissed down your torso to the hem of your sleep shorts. He looked up at you through his eyelashes and you nodded. He hooked his fingers in the waistband and pulled your shorts and panties down in one pull. His hands gently spread your thighs apart and he kissed up your legs. As he got to your folds he looked up waiting for permission. “Dean, please. I need to feel you. I want you to make me cum.”

Dean took his fingers and softly parted your folds, finding you already dripping wet. He licked a strip up through your folds to your clit. You sucked in air and moaned his name. Dean loved hearing you moan his name. He began to lick and suck your clit and you wiggled under him. He slowly inserted one finger into your dripping wet pussy. You moaned and arched your back. He slowly moved his finger in and out as your breathing became pants and you moaned. Dean inserted another finger and hooked both upwards causing you to moan louder. 

“Shh, we need to stay quiet sweetheart.” He grinned as he continued to pump his fingers and licking your clit. He would lick and suck as he pumped his fingers. Your hands pulled his head deeper into you and you moved your hips. You were fucking his face as he pushed you towards your release. “Dean, I’m gonna cum.” You breathed out. 

Dean lifted his head, “Cum for me baby. Cum all over my fingers.” He pumped and licked until he felt your release. He grabbed your thighs holding you as he kept licking, causing you to moan loudly and your body shake under him. By the time you were coming down from your release, your body was over sensitive. 

You had boyfriends in the past eat you out, but damn it if Dean Winchester wasn’t a gold medalist in it. You had never felt that good after that before. Dean removed his fingers and hovered over your body and kissed your lips. As he leaned over you could feel his arousal on your thigh. 

“Dean, please, I need you.” “Are you sure sweetheart, we don’t have to go any further.” “Yes, Dean. I’m sure. I want you, I need you.” Dean stood up and took off his pants and boxers. His large, hardened cock sprang free. You licked your lips and took in the sight of him. He was much larger than you had ever had, but damn were you excited. 

You felt an ache form between your legs that seemed to beg for him. “I’ll be gentle, I promise.”

You nodded and handed Dean a condom from your side table. He ripped the package with his teeth and you giggled. He pumped himself a few times and slid the condom on. Climbing back on the bed, he positioned himself between your thighs and lined himself up. 

The head of his cock was pushing inside you. You both moaned and gasped as he started to push in. You moaned. It was a little bit of pleasure and a little bit of pain. He was stretching you like you’d never been stretched before. You grabbed his biceps and dug your nails in. “You okay, sweetheart?” You nodded yes. Dean continued to push in slowly. 

“Fuck, you’re so tight. I need you to relax a little bit more sweetheart.” He leaned down and kissed you deeply. He could feel you relaxing more so he kept pushing. “Dean, please just push in, all the way.” “Are you sure?” You nodded yes, and before you could say anything else, Dean bottomed out with one thrust. You screamed in pleasure and Dean buried his face in the crook of your neck. “Sorry sweetheart, I didn’t mean to hurt you. I need a minute or I’m going to cum right now. You’re so tight.” 

You moved your hips under him and he started to move. His movements were slow. He would slowly pull out and push back in slowly. He didn’t want to hurt you and he wanted to give you time to adjust to his length and girth. When he felt your body relaxing and adjusting more to him, he started to move a little faster. 

“Oh Dean, you feel so good baby.” He kissed your lips. “You feel amazing around me, Y/N. You’re so beautiful.” With each thrust, each kiss, and each touch of his hand your heart filled with so much love for him. You knew you would do whatever it takes to keep him safe and to tear down his walls. He was yours and you were his. In that moment the only people who mattered were you and Dean. 

Dean lifted your legs onto his shoulders and the change in position caused him to hit your g-spot a little more. Sending you closer to your next release. As Dean continued to speed up you felt yourself closer to cumming again. “Dean, I’m gonna cum again.” “Oh baby, just let go, cum around my cock.” He kissed your lips and you felt your release rush through your whole body. As your walls clenched around his cock, he sped up chasing his release. He came with a grunt and spilled his seed in the condom. 

As he finished he pulled out and kissed your lips. “That was amazing, Y/N. Are you okay?” “God, yes Dean. That was incredible.” You kissed him again as he stood up grabbing a tissue and removing the condom. He threw it away in your trash can and crawled in bed beside you. 

He pulled you close to his body and wrapped you in his arms. He kissed your forehead as you laid on his chest. You listened to his heartbeat as your fingers danced over his anti-possession tattoo. “Dean, thank you. That was incredible.” “Oh sweetheart, you don’t have to thank me. That was more than incredible. I’ve never felt like I was going to cum that fast before. You are perfect.” You smiled and kissed his lips. “I could get used to this. Making love to you and then laying in your arms.” You whispered hoping you wouldn't scare him away.

“Me too, Y/N, me too.” “Dean, would you ever consider moving away from your dad and Sam? Like maybe in here with me?” Dean sat up in the bed and looked at you. Panic flooded your brain instantly. “Well, I hadn’t given it much thought, but I don’t know if Bobby would like that too much. But yeah, I’d consider it, if Bobby was okay with it.” You looked shocked, “Really? You’d be willing to move in with me?” 

Dean turned and looked at you, “Of course I would. This (he motioned between the two of you) wasn’t just a one and done thing. I want to be with you. I’ve never wanted to be with anyone ever, but with you I’d give up everything.” “Oh Dean.” Tears filled your eyes as you kissed him. 

When he pulled back his thumb wiped the tears away, “Shh don’t cry sweetheart.” “They are happy tears, Dean. I just can’t believe you’d be willing to stay with me. Of course, I could always go with you too.” Dean’s head spun around, “What?! You’d leave home for me? To go on the road with us?” “Yes, Dean. I’d give up everything for you too.” Dean kissed you again and pulled you back down with him. “Come on sweetheart, let’s get some sleep. We will figure it out tomorrow. Tonight, let’s just be here together.” You nodded in agreement and laid your head on his chest. 

You listened to Dean’s heartbeat until your eyes got too heavy and they finally closed. Dean listened to you as you fell asleep in his arms. He smiled and felt his heart warm when he heard the soft snores coming from you. He couldn’t shake the feeling he was starting to fall for you. It scared him but excited him too. He’d never felt like this about anyone. Could he really leave his dad and Sam to live with you, or could he really let you leave Bobby to go on the road with him? These questions plagued his brain until he finally drifted off to sleep holding you tight. 

Around 3 am the door to your bedroom creaked open. Bobby saw Dean’s bed was empty and knew he’d find him with you. His heart sank when he saw you laying on Dean’s chest and Dean holding you tight. He knew he couldn’t keep you two apart now. At first he was going to wake Dean up and tell him to get the hell out of your bed, but he saw you smiling in your sleep and heard you sigh softly. He saw how Dean’s grip on you tightened when you sighed. He knew, of course he knew. Both of you were falling in love. “Balls!” Bobby said before he closed your door softly. 

He walked downstairs and told John “We’ve got a problem.” “Dean’s with her, isn’t he?” Bobby shook his head yes, “And the problem is they are already falling for each other.” “Damnit Dean! I told that boy to keep it in his pants. Bobby if I would have known this was going to happen I would have told Dean to stay away.” “Hey, John, it's nobody’s fault. They are young and are going to do whatever they want. We just need to figure out where to go from here.” “We will talk to them in the morning. I’m beat. Night John.” “Night Bobby.” 

The next morning you woke up late. It was about 10 am and you felt strong arms wrapped around you. Dean was sleeping next to you, holding you in his arms. You smiled and snuggled closer to him. He started to wake up and pulled you tighter. “Where do you think you’re going, sweetheart?” “Well, I need to pee, so hopefully the bathroom.” You giggled. “Fine, but come back, please.” You leaned over, kissed him, “I will.”

You grabbed some clothes and threw them on and headed to the bathroom. You walked back towards your bedroom. When you got to your door you saw Dean stretched out on your bed with the blanket draped over his hips. His toned chest exposed to the chill of the room. You bit your lip.

“Like what you see sweetheart?” Dean grinned with his eyes still closed. You closed the door and climbed on the bed, “You know I do.” You placed a soft kiss on his lips. He pulled you down into his arms, eliciting a giggle from your lips. “Dean, we really should get up. Do you want to be the one to explain to Bobby and your Dad why you’re naked in my bed?” “If they don’t know why I’m naked in a beautiful woman’s bed by their age, I don’t know what to tell them.” He smirked. “Dean Winchester! You know what I meant.” 

He laughed and pulled you closer, “Yeah I know, I’m just not ready to leave your side yet.” You sighed and laid your head on his chest. “I know, me either, but if we don’t get up soon they will come up here.” Dean grumbled and you giggled.

There was a knock on your door and you froze. “Hello?” “Hey, sweetpea, you and Dean get dressed and come downstairs, we need to talk.” You looked at Dean with wide eyes and he smirked. “Okay, be down soon.” “Shit! Dean, how did they know?” Dean chuckled, “Guess there’s no need to keep it a secret, huh?” “Dean, it's not funny. Bobby sounded pissed.” “It kinda is, sweetheart.” You playfully slapped his chest, “Dean, you’re terrible, now get up and get dressed.” 

A few minutes later the two of you walked downstairs hand in hand and were met with tense jaws and even tenser stares from Bobby and John. You squeezed Dean’s hand and he pulled you closer to him, “I’ve got you, sweetheart.” 

Bobby stood up and got in Dean’s face. “I thought I told you to stay the fuck away from her, Dean!” You jumped at the sound of his voice. You’d never heard him that angry before. You stepped forward a bit, “Bobby, I’m an adult, I can be with whoever I want.” You seemed so small beside the three towering men. Most people would be intimidated, but you held your own. 

“Sweet pea, it’s not a matter of being an adult, I just don’t want to see you hurt.” “Bobby, I love you, but you can’t protect me for the rest of my life. You’ve always told me what good hunters and men the Winchesters were, now you’re telling me Dean isn’t. So which is it? Is he good or not?” Bobby looked between you and Dean and knew he was fighting a losing battle. Before he could say anything else John stepped up and punched Dean in the face. You gasped and when Dean turned his face back he was bleeding, but didn’t react. Bobby had grabbed John and pulled him back. Dean’s jaw clenched and he looked over at you and saw tears in your eyes. He let go of your hand and stormed out of the house. You looked at Bobby and then over at John. “I can’t believe you two. Dean is an amazing person. He practically raised Sammy because you, John, were too caught up in your own grief and need for revenge to be anything that resembled a good father. He had to be mom and dad to Sam. You owe him so much because he raised himself and his brother FOR YOU! Uncle Bobby, I know you mean well, but I’m an adult. You didn’t have a problem with Alex, and he tried to force me into his car. Dean never once forced anything. I pursued him. Even last night before we had sex he kept asking if I was sure. Now that is the kind of man I want to be with. Sure he’s had a past, but which one of you can say you haven’t. Now if you will excuse me, I’m going to find Dean and check on him.” 

Before they could say anything else you walked away and found Dean standing on the porch. When he saw you he pulled you into a searing kiss. He heard you defend him. He pulled away and looked at you, he cupped your face, “Thank you. Nobody has ever defended me like that. Thank you, sweetheart.” He kissed you again.

“I meant every word of it. I don’t know what this means for us as far as where we are headed to live, but I’ll follow you wherever you go, Dean Winchester.” “Good, because I’m not going to let you go, ever.” He kissed you again and could feel so much love between you two. 

Later that afternoon, you and Dean had decided to go off together. Just the two of you, hunting and living together. He couldn’t bear the thought of being with John after what happened, and he knew Bobby needed space. You were in your room packing a bag when Bobby came to the door, “Sweet pea, you don’t have to leave. We can figure this out.” Bobby’s eyes were pleading with you and it broke your heart. “Uncle Bobby, I’m not leaving for good, Dean and I just want to be together, work on our relationship without having to deal with everyone else’s opinions. I love you and you will always be home. I promise.” You hugged Bobby tightly. He kissed the top of your head.

Dean came to your room to grab your stuff. Bobby turned towards him, “Dean, I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have said what I said. There is no excuse for it. She’s like a daughter to me and it’s my job to protect her. Well, it was. Now it’s your job. I know you’ll protect her no matter what. Keep her safe, bring her home every once in a while, and take care of yourself too. Your father was out of line hitting you like that. I’m sorry son.” He pulled Dean in for a hug. You had tears in your eyes looking at them hugging. 

“Well sweet pea, where are y’all headed?” “Not sure yet, maybe East. I’ll call you whenever we stop and let you know. I love you, Uncle Bobby.” “I love you too, sweet pea. You make him take care of you.” “I will, and he will. I know he will.” You hugged him again and handed Dean your bags.

The three of you walked downstairs and Dean headed out to your car to put the bags in it. Sam was standing there, “Dean, take me with you two. I can’t be with Dad. We’ll kill each other. You know that.” Dean sighed, “Yeah Sammy, I know. Sammy, I want you to apply to school. Get out of this life, go be a lawyer or whatever you want to be. I know you can do it. Meet a girl, get married, have kids. Be normal.” Dean pulled Sam into a hug, “I love you baby brother. Stay with Bobby until you get into that school.” “I love you too, Dean.” 

You stood in the living room and hugged Bobby one last time. John was standing leaned against the doorframe not saying anything. He was just staring. Dean walked in and walked over to Bobby and pulled him in for a hug. “Bobby, I need you to let Sammy stay here and make sure he applies for college. He’s too smart to stay in this life. He deserves a normal life.” Bobby shook his head in agreement. Dean thanked him and started to walk away.

As the two of you approached the door John stepped forward, “Dean, Y/N, wait.” You both stopped and turned around looking at him. “Look, I’m sorry Dean. I shouldn’t have hit you. I was out of line.” Before Dean could say anything you stepped in between them, “John, you were definitely out of line hitting him. I hope you take some time and reflect on yourself about the kind of father, man you want to be. I know Dean loves you, but it’s my job now to protect him and if that means protecting him from you I will. I’m in love with your son, and will spend the rest of my life proving to him what an amazing man he is. A lesser man would have laid your ass out after punching him, but not Dean. You see, that’s the kind of man he is. He knows when to fight and when not to. Hopefully that’s a lesson you learn too. Goodbye John, I wish you nothing but the best.”

You looked up at Dean who was still trying to process you saying you loved him. Smiling softly at him, you kissed his lips, “I’ll be outside.” You knew he needed closure so you left to give him his space to find it. 

Dean stepped towards John, “Dad I forgive you. I just can’t be with you right now. Maybe later down the road the three of us can hunt together, but right now I need to be with her and have space from you. I hope you understand.” He hugged his father and started to walk away. “Dean, for what it’s worth I know you’re a better man than I am. You take care of that little firecracker. She loves you and I can tell you love her. Be safe, and always know I will answer when you call.” Dean nodded and headed outside. 

The two of you climbed into your car and Dean started her up. He took your hand, you looked out your window, waved at Sam and Bobby and Dean drove away. You two had no idea where you were going, but you knew you would be fine as long as you had Dean by your side. 

Part 3

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[jakedoxxenvasion]

drunk jealousy

ex boyfriend! jake × female! reader

warning: unprotected sex, MDNI! rough sex, friend with benefits? and more

words count: 997

pt.2

what are we?

three months ago maybe you could act like this but it's all over now but why you keep coming back to him like you're under a spell but he also act the same way. you both end the relationship but two weeks after break up, you find him standing in front of your door.

drunk, he invited himself in and things happen, you found yourself next to him next to him the next day you wake up. "i'm sorry, i was out of my mind. i promise, this won't happen again." a merely empty promise that he made when he woke up, realize whatever he made and he left like it's nothing.

but the next few days he came again and yet you let him in again, either he's tipsy or sober, he's always find his way back to your apartment. shamelessly.. but none of you complain about it.

because sex with him feel so good..

but nothing more than that, he never even mention of getting back together nor being friend with you or just anything but purely sex and fuck. you don't even know what are you to him because none of you mention it at all. everytime he come, he fuck the hell out of you and left, he's drunk he will stay the night and disappear when you wake up the next morning.

"j-jake.."his name slip out of your lips everytime, he look down at you with a smirk. "yeah babe? you like it?"those nickname that never change. babe, sweetheart, love, princess.. but you're both no longer a lover, those just slip from his lips so naturally and he's used to it after those two years both of you spent together.

dark eyes with lust as he fuck his dick into you, your moan echoing in the room, skin slapping sound fill the air. "s-shit i'm close."his hand hovers below your thigh, and picks it up making you scream as he places your thigh on his shoulder, he's in so deep.

you could practically feel his cock in your abdomen, low soft 'daddy' and 'so good' leaves your mouth. your mind goes blank, filled with only the thought of his cock hitting your g-spot so perfectly. "my pretty girl can't form any words, can she? aren't you just fucked dumb babe?"you hummed softly to answer him, couldn't utter a word.

how come sex with him always feel this good, he know your body so well and he just know how to make you feel good. "such a slut for me, huh babe?"his words make you clench hard on his dick making him growl lowly, he's pounding into you so hard that almost make you lose your mind over it. his grip on your hips surely will left marks later at how tight he hold you.

you could feel the intense coil building up in your abdomen, and your fingers dig into his muscles, almost drawing blood from the grip. jake curses loudly, his cock twitching inside you as soon as he feels your pussy squirt all around him. "oh fuck-"

and just like that, ropes of cum paint your walls, and his hands caress your hips slowly as he throws his head back. you could only moan at the warm feeling filling you up, your mind completely lost in euphoria of the orgasm. jake still in you for the next few second before he pull out from you, sighing then he let his own body fall next to you on the bed.

a soft chuckle escape his lips, his barely open eyes look at you before he lean in to kiss you. you never push him away but give in and kiss him back, his hand caressed your cheek so delicately. a soft whimper escape your lips before he pull away from the kiss, never break eye contact and he chuckle again. "so fucking pretty for me, huh love?"

you blink your eyes and smile at him, too tired to utter a word. "so perfect, lowkey wanna make you mine again."he whisper but received no respond from you, "what about friends with benefits?"he asked, he wrap his arms around your body, pulling you close to him and you're practically spoon by him now.

you humming, you close your eyes as you lean your back on him, whatever he want with you, you're up for it as long as you get to fuck him everytime you want. you could feel his chin on your shoulder, sometimes he give you a soft peck around your neck and cheek until you completely fall asleep in his embrace.

for the first time in awhile, when you woke up the next morning, jake is still there laying beside you, sleeping peacefully. you whine softly when he wrap his arm around you and pull you close to him, you heart thumping at the closeness, it feel so familiar. "good morning, love."his deep voice greet, you could feel his hot breath on your shoulder and his pampered you with kisses around your shoulder and neck.

"j-jake.."you push him slowly before you get up from the bed, he give you a confused look. "you will be late for class if you keep staying here like this."nah both of you know that's not the reason why you push him away, you just don't want to be that way with him, you don't want to have any feeling with him again.

a pouted form on his lips but he get up just like you told him to, he had a plan to have second round with you but maybe not now. he left to your bathroom and you sigh as you let your body fall back on the bed, "what about friends with benefits?"his voice lingering in your mind, you might actually consider his offer.

friend with benefits won't hurt you right?

should i make part 2?

[rookinthecrownest]

Bedtime Stories For a Demon, Night 5: The Shoes That Were Danced To Pieces (Lucanis x Rook Fanfic)

The streets of Treviso are eerily silent tonight. As if the city itself has become the quiet before the storm.

Madeleina Mercar and Lucanis Dellamorte weave in and out of abandoned buildings and leap between rooftops, two shifting black dots in a dark landscape. They move quickly, and with purpose.

Earlier that night, a letter had come through from Viago.

One of his Crows had captured a Venatori spy, caught lurking about the Drowned District. The unlucky cultist was dragged into the den of the Fifth Talon, and like one of Viago’s snakes, had been milked for every last drop of usefulness they could provide.

“How’d they get him to talk?” Madeleina asked, as she scanned the contents of Viago’s missive by flickering candlelight. “I can’t imagine the Venatori spill their secrets easily”

“Viago has his ways.”

Why did he have to name his truth serum Pillow Talk.

“… Let’s just say he can be very persuasive”

Madeleina looked up from the letter and quirked an eyebrow. She was clearly expecting more details, but when he remained silent, she dropped it.

“The specifics don’t matter” Lucanis gently pried the letter from her hands and set it on the nearby table. “What matters is we have a location. Viago has his Crows watching the Venatori. We’ll move when you’re ready”

She grinned, “No time like the present – let’s go”

We’ll make her pay, for everything she did to you. Side by side. I swear it.

Her words hang in front of him like a beacon lighting the path to the Chantry. When he turns them over in his head again, the undercurrents of Spite’s glee reverberate through his body. It sends a shiver down his spine.

Her Heart. On Our Knife. Rook’s lightning. At Our backs. A cackle echoes in his head. The Witch. Dies today.

Tonight, he would have his revenge. For himself. For Spite. And for Caterina.

For a moment, he’s back to the Ossuary. His hands and legs chained down to the stone slab beneath him. He remembers the chafing of the metal cuffs around his wrists and ankles, the skin red and raw. Remembers the hunger. The fear. He was too tired to struggle against the bindings. His objective shifted from escape to survive soon after arriving.

“From flying vermin to malicious spirit. That’s quite the promotion, isn’t it, Master Dellamorte?” Zara pinched his cheek with a long, slender finger. It took every ounce of discipline he had not to recoil at her cold touch. Her full, red lips pulled back in a sneer. He could smell her sickly-sweet perfume as she leaned in. It turned his empty stomach.

“Well, then. Let’s make a real Demon out of you, hm?”

“Are you sure you’re ready for this?” Madeleina calls over her shoulder, pulling him out of the past. She is already half-way up the ladder to the overhang above them when she realizes Lucanis isn’t following. Pausing on the rungs, she cranes her neck to look back at him, “Facing Zara, I mean”

He lifts his gaze to meet hers. Tries to keep maintain eye contact instead of staring elsewhere.

“I lost a year of my life to that Venatori Witch” He begins, before climbing up himself. “I owe her for that”

They both reach the overhang and squeeze out of a broken window on the top floor of the warehouse. The two land soundlessly on the side-roof jutting from just below the window sill. Just one more rooftop until they reach the Chantry.

As Lucanis follows Rook’s careful steps, he remembers his dissatisfaction at traversing the rooftops in Vyrantium a year ago. The harsh slopes and rounded clay tiles made a poor foothold even for his perfectly cobbled boots. But the rooftops of Treviso are flatter, the inclines less harsh, and made of interlocking shingles rather than layered tiles. Very friendly for a Crow looking to sneak around. All of Treviso, with its dark, narrow streets, high vantage points, and closely connected rooftops, was practically designed for them. A Crow’s nest made a city.

Madeleina jumps down from the side-roof and onto a balcony overlooking the Chantry courtyard. He watches her come to rigid halt a few steps ahead of him. He can just barely make out another figure in the darkness.

Illario?

Lucanis wastes no time jumping down to the balcony, coming to stand beside Madeleina. She’s close enough now he can feel the tension coiling around her body. Her mouth is set into a hard line, and her eyes fixate on Illario.

So, she was just as thrown off by his appearance at the Chantry as he was. Good. He can get right to the point without preamble.

“Illario - what are you doing here?” Lucanis asks, his voice low.

Illario smiles widely as if the answer was the most obvious thing in the world. “I’m coming with you, of course. No arguments”

Mierda.

“This is my job” Lucanis says firmly, his hands clenching into fists at his side.

“This is Crow business” Illario corrects him. He feels a muscle in his jaw tick.

“How did you even know we’d be here?” If the contents of Viago’s letter were anything to go by, only he and Madeleina should be privy to this information. From the corner of his eye, he can see the weariness settle more firmly onto her features. She folds her arms over her chest and frowns deeply.

Illario seems to notice the shift in her demeanour. He ignores Lucanis’ question and turns to address her instead. He plasters on an insincere, charming smile. The same one Lucanis has seen him use to seduce countless targets. From the way Madeleina’s brows draw further down, he surmises it has the opposite effect on her. Good.

“Rook” He all but purrs her moniker, and for a brief moment Lucanis is thankful Illario doesn’t know her real name. The tone of his voice sets both him and Spite on edge. “Always a pleasure. Touring the city with my cousin?” He pauses to gesture to Lucanis with a sultry grin. “You must allow me to show you the sights”

Madeleina’s voice is stern, almost biting, when she answers, “Lucanis told you not to come”.

He is silently grateful she’s not encouraging Illario. Even more grateful, a small part of him thinks, that his cousin’s attempts at flirting backfire so spectacularly. He can count on one hand the number of times that’s happened. Once Illario realizes his usual approach won’t do him any credit with Madeleina, his face settles into a more neural expression – a little too quickly.

Lucanis decides to interject before he can get a word in edgewise, “This isn’t your type of job, cousin.” He means to needle him about his earlier attempt at Madeleina. He’s not sure whether that’s more him or Spite. “There’s no one you can charm here. Only fanatics. All you can do is get yourself killed”

His words land with the desired effect, if only for a moment. There’s a brief flicker of annoyance in his eyes that only someone who has spent many years with Illario would be able to pick up. It’s gone as soon as it came, now replaced by a challenging stare.

“You think I’m not good enough” He doesn’t phrase it as a question.

“Are you?” Lucanis retorts, tilting his head, throwing the challenge right back at him.

Illario’s nostrils flare. There is concession, but not defeat in his eyes. He settles for a placating smile, but Lucanis has a sinking feeling in his gut that whatever is going on with his cousin will not pass so easily. Perhaps it’s the overly saccharine way he concedes or perhaps it’s the uncharacteristically light tone in his voice given the subject matter. He bows his head, “Fine, have it your way cousin.”

Before Illario turns to leave, he lets out a bitter chuckle. “You always know best, after all”. And without another word, he disappears into the night.

He shakes his head. There’s no time to worry about Illario’s antics right now. Lucanis Dellamorte has a target. And he always collects.

You find her and cut her heart out, Lucanis.

“Let’s go, Zara’s waiting”

Lucanis doesn’t wait for Madeleina to catch up before he starts making for the Chantry courtyard.

She follows him soundlessly, like a shadow.

~*~

“Amatu- “

A sickening crack as Zara’s neck is snapped by Illario, who dropped down from the ceiling just a moment earlier.

She doesn’t have time to think about the implication of what she just heard. Zara’s final words are pushed to the back of her mind as an anguished cry escapes her companion’s lips.

“No! Mine!” Lucanis and Spites voices meld together, all rage and hurt and betrayal, reverberating through the Chantry in a familiar discordant symphony. His purple and black wings unfurl. A high-pitched whistling fills the Chantry, like the firing of an Antaam canon. Then, Illario is sent flying back by a blast of magical energy shooting out of Lucanis. Madeleina is knocked back a few steps from the sheer force of it.

A second later, Lucanis – or rather Spite controlling Lucanis’ body, is on Illario. The dagger in his hand comes down, ready to kill his cousin. A scream tears through his chest as Illario resists, his arms the only thing between him and the dagger’s edge. Lucanis’ face is a twisted mask of hurt and anguish. When he speaks next, his voice is strained. There’s more of him than Spite, like he’s fighting the demon to even get the words out.

“Get. Illario … Out!” He cries over his shoulder, eyes burning like bright, purple sapphires. His arm inches the dagger closer and closer to Illario’s neck, acting of its own accord.

“What? No – “

I won’t leave you here alone.

She winces and stumbles closer. Another pained yell reverberates through the chantry.

“Rook!” His eyes are pleading. He’s losing the struggle against Spite’s rage, and fast. The dagger is almost touching Illario’s neck now, just about to draw blood, “I can’t –! “

“That’s enough!” Shouts Illario, and he does something that Madeleina can’t see from where she’s standing. But she can sense it. Even smell it.

Blood magic.

A plume of red erupts from Illario’s chest. It slams into Lucanis, knocking him back onto his forearms. The heady scent of iron and blood and sulphur fills the air. She can taste a metallic tang on her tongue.

Illario pulls himself to stand and puts his hand out in front of him like he’s commanding a dog to sit. The sight of it turns her stomach.

“Relent” Lucanis’ head swivels, she can see the whites of his eyes as they roll back. “Somniare”. He falls unconscious and his head hits the stone floor with a crack.

Madeleina is behind him not a moment later, cradling his head in her hands. She breathes a sigh of relief when she can’t feel any blood pooling in his hair.

“Lucanis? Lucanis wake up” she whispers, shaking him by the shoulders. When he doesn’t stir, she looks up at Illario, eyes burning with rage. “Venhedis. What the fuck did you do to him, Illario?” She snarls.

“Nothing” Illario says, straightening to his full height. “I don’t know what happened any more than you”

Liar.

“You have to get him out of here” Illario points to Lucanis, still unconscious in her arms. When he turns towards the door, Madeleina calls after him. She has about a million questions swarming her thoughts like wasps kicked from their nest.

“Illario, don’t you dare lea-!”

“Rook. Keep him away from Treviso. From the Crows” His voice is low and even. Too calm, for what he just did. “He’s a danger to the family”.

She stares in disbelief as Illario Dellamorte disappears from the Chantry. He leaves Lucanis and Madeleina alone in the basement chamber. Well, sort of. Madeleina is not Emmrich, and she doesn’t count the dead bodies of several Venatori and Zara Renata as company.

“Shit”

She wished, more than anything, she had prodded Emmrich’s brain about a healing spell rather than learning to summon wisps.

Wait.

Wisps.

Using what remained of her magic, she called forth a bouncing ball of familiar blue-green light from the Fade. It’s light chittering filled the silence of the Chantry as it floated in front of her face, bouncing on an invisible air current.

“Find Viago de Riva. Bring him here. Can you do that?” The Wisp zips around her head, before phasing through the far wall. She prays it understands the command. There’s nothing she can do except wait for help. She won’t leave him alone. Not here.

She shakes him gently by the shoulders again, “Come on Lucanis, wake up. Please, wake up”.

The faint smell of blood and sulphur still lingers on him.

Blood magic. She was still grappling with the fact that Illario had used blood magic to control Spite. To control Lucanis. How? Why?

Madeleina bites her lip. Her fingers curl softly against the fine, dark leather of Lucanis’ armor. Zara’s final words come rushing back and hit her like a tidal wave.

Amatus.

She was about to say Amatus.

Dread settles in her chest as she comes to a chilling realization.

Illario Dellamorte and Zara Renata were lovers.

Venhedis.

Illario had to be the one who sold Lucanis out. There was no other explanation that made sense.

The longer she thinks about it, the faster the pieces start clicking together like the whirring gears on one of Bellara’s machines. There were a million little things about Illario’s behaviour that never sat right with her. When looked at separately, they were never overtly suspicious. But taken together, they paint quite a damning picture.

Each fact clicks neatly into place with the one that comes after it, like a line of collapsing tin soldiers.

Illario avoided coming down to the Ossuary with them, and the same night, Caterina was killed. He tried to throw Lucanis off Zara’s trail by convincing him that she was back in Minrathous. His strange behaviour at Caterina’s funeral. His knowledge of where they’d be tonight. Killing Zara just before she revealed who sold Lucanis out. And most damning of all, the fact that he could control Spite with Blood magic.

She bites her lip.

Kaffas. How am I supposed to tell him the last member of his family sold him out.

Lucanis still isn’t waking.

Madeleina watches the soft rise and fall of his chest, worried that if she looks away for even a moment, he might stop breathing.

“Please wake up” Her voice hitches.

His head is resting on her knees. She’s afraid to move him. Afraid to leave. She has to trust the Wisp she sent after Viago will bring help soon. She’s also furious that his own home is no longer safe for him. Not while as Illario is running around with the ability to control Lucanis and Spite with Blood magic.

She brushes a stray lock of hair from his cheek and tucks it behind his ear. Let’s her fingers drift across his skin, her touch feather-light, for a brief moment before pulling away. Madeleina isn’t used to seeing him like this. He rarely sleeps at the Lighthouse. She would know, given all the nights she stays awake with him telling stories. She tries, at the cost of her own sleep, to make his long, waking hours less lonely. Madeleina wonders if he’s dreaming of better days. Prays he’s not stuck in some terrible nightmare, lest it fuel Spite’s wrath. The last thing anyone needed tonight was for the demon to claw his way to the surface again and wreak havoc in the streets looking for Illario.

She sighs, and stares aimlessly at the arched ceiling of the Chantry basement.

It was going to be a long night for both of them.

~*~

Lucanis Dellamorte has forgotten what a good night’s sleep feels like.

Only, this didn’t feel like sleep. It felt like stasis. Paralysis. Even Spite didn’t stir.

He did not dream, he did not feel. There was only crushing, oppressive darkness in every direction. Like he had been dropped to the bottom of a black ocean.

Lucanis regains movement in his fingertips first. Then his toes. And then, he can move his legs – but only a little. They pedal back and forth a few times as he tests out his strength. A groan escapes his lips. His lips feel dry, and his mouth is thick with the taste of cotton. His eyelids are leaden weights that are slow to lift.

Once he can blink away the tears clouding his vision, the familiar roof of his pantry bedroom comes into focus.

Back at the Lighthouse.

“… Mmmh…” he groans again. As some of his strength returns to him, he’s able to push himself upright. His head is throbbing something fierce. “…Mierda…” He hisses, when his mouth can finally form words.

A moment later, he hears something shift beside him. His head snaps to the side, and he’s ready to pull the hidden dagger he keeps under his pillow. But Lucanis settles, lets the tension uncoil from his body, when he sees Madeleina Mercar asleep in a chair next to his cot.

She has her knees pulled up tight to her chest, her head resting atop her folded arms. Madeleina’s face is curtained by a mass of brown curls. Her head slowly lifts, and her eyes flutter open.

“Madeleina” All Lucanis can do is whisper her name because he’s tired, everything hurts, and he can’t think straight.

She rubs the sleep out of her eyes and yawns. “Lucanis” Her voice is low, husky. “You’re awake”

He wonders how long she’s been sitting in that chair. She’s still wearing her mage’s overcoat, the same armour she wore when they confronted Zara. Black leather with a gold trim – a serpent in the middle of her chest. All sharp angles and harsh lines, in the Tevinter fashion. It was a stark contrast to the roundness of her cheeks, the fullness of her lips and the softness of her curls. 

Lucanis swings his legs over the side of the bed and leans on his forearms. Flashes of their confrontation with Zara play on a loop in his mind.

Illario killing Zara. The terror of losing control to Spite. The way he came tearing through his mental barrier and took over so quickly it gave him whiplash, while Lucanis sunk into the recesses of his mind. A passenger in his own body. Illario’s neck beneath his blade. Begging Madeleina to get Illario out of there. Fear in her wide eyes. And then, overwhelming, oppressive darkness.

He remembers rage. So. Much. Rage.

He almost killed Illario. What if he lost control again? What if he hurt someone else?

What if he hurt her?

At the thought of hurting Madeleina, the demon ripples underneath his skin, and prods the edges of his consciousness.

Smells like thunderstorms and blood. Spite hisses. Sulphur and ash and iron. She’s never. Right. Anymore.

And who’s fault is that, he wonders bitterly.

She’s looking at him. Her gaze is soft. Always too soft. Even when he failed to take down Ghilan’nain at Weishaupt. There’s never blame, or anger, or judgement. She always has some way to justify being kind to him, even if he thinks he doesn’t deserve it.

Search as he may for something else, he only ever finds patience. Peace. Understanding. And that’s terrifying to him, because he’s never known that before. Caterina loved him… in her way. But he knew the back of her cane as well as he knew a comforting hand.

“I …” Lucanis starts, but the words die on his tongue, reeled back into his mind until he can form them into a proper sentence. Madeleina tilts her head and rests her cheek on her arm. Her legs pull in just a little closer to her body.

“I’ve been trying to figure out what to say to you”

She blinks slowly. “What do you mean?”

“There… there aren’t words enough to apologize” He answers, his voice low, but even. Just barely. She looks confused at the apology, her brows drawing together. “I never wanted you to see me like that”

A quiet settles between them. Madeleina looks thoughtful.

Her knees slide down the chair and there’s a soft thud when her boots land on the stone floor.

“And yet I’m still here”

He could swear his heart stops in his chest. Lucanis doesn’t know what he expected her to say. Anything but that. He hangs his head, rather pathetically, if he’s being honest with himself.

Why? He wants to ask, but his lips won’t move, held together by some invisible seal.

What could he, an abomination, offer her except for problems and pain and misery? What could he, an assassin, give her anything but death?

She. Won’t. Hurt us. Spite whispers. He said that the first day they met too. Hers was the first kind voice, kind eyes he’d seen in a year. Spite didn’t forget that either.

“I …”

“Hey” She whispers quietly, before he feels her fingers gently lifting his chin. As soft as he’d imagined. Warm and comforting like he’d hoped. Her jade green eyes still have a habit of making the rest of the world disappear. “Lucanis, there’s nothing to apologize for. Really”

There is. There’s so much to apologize for.

I failed to kill your God. I could’ve killed you. I’m no good. We’re no good.

His thoughts whir about themselves, twisting and morphing together into new things he wants to say, new things he feels he should apologize for. New reasons why what he desperately wants – this thing they’ve been dancing around, is a bad idea.

When she pulls away, he wants, more than anything, to reach out and place her hand back on his face. To keep that warmth there just a little bit longer. Linger in the softness rarely afforded to someone like him.

“Listen” She folds her hands in her lap, “We have a few hours before the rest of the team will be up. I think… I think there’s a story you should hear”

“Madeleina, we have to talk- “

“About Illario, I know. We will. Tomorrow”

He wants to argue but knows it’s pointless with her. She only has to look at him a certain way and the resistance will die on his tongue. Lucanis runs a hand down his face, and sighs.

"Fine. But first, coffee”

~*~

Sometime later, the pair find themselves in front of the fireplace once more. There’s fresh coffee, and some leftover dessert from two nights ago – Nevarran Hazelnut Torte, a recipe from Emmrich’s late mother. It had become a fast favourite around the Lighthouse, to the Professor’s delight.

Madeleina’s cake is untouched. It was very unusual for her, given how voracious her sweet tooth is. Lucanis has watched her put away a dozen churros like they were grains of rice. Where does it all go?

He’s not used to seeing her in armour around the Lighthouse either. The large overcoat dwarfs her and makes her look smaller than she really is. It’s never that apparent in the heat of battle since they’re usually trying their best not to die from the monster-du-jour. He briefly wonders if she’s overheating in it, being this close to the warmth of the fireplace.

“So, what tale will you tell tonight – uhh … this morning” He quickly corrects himself. One can never be certain about the time in the Fade. Sometimes, when he thinks it’s close to dawn, he can hear waves crashing in the distance.

“Have you ever heard the Orlesian tale of The Shoes that Were Danced to Pieces?”

“I haven’t” Lucanis swirls his coffee a few times before taking a sip. “But I assume I’m about to”

“Mmm” She hums, with a slight frown. “Indeed”

 There’s something different about the way she’s starting tonight’s tale. He can’t quite put his finger on it. So, he lets her continue without interruption, hoping to glean the reason through the course of her story.

Her hands alight with blue flame, she sweeps her forearm across the air like she’s swatting a fly. In her wake, twelve figures spring to life, each one more beautiful than the last. The women are dressed in classic Orlesian ballet attire, and each has a thin, delicate band across their forehead.

“Once upon a time, in a land far, far away, there lived a King and his twelve Princesses” The figure of the King appears, perched on a floating throne above his daughters. The King’s face is weathered by time, and even though he is an illusion, there is a deep sorrow in his eyes.

The King disappears and twelve beds, arranged in concentric circles appear. Each princess appears next to one of the beds.

“All the Princesses sleep together in one room. And each night, the King bolts the door shut”

“Strange thing to do” he remarks, between bites of Torte. “Even for an Orlesian” Lucanis snickers.

“Stranger still is the reason” Madeleina continues. She waves a hand through the illusion, and it disappears, now replaced by the King. He’s holding a pair of ballet shoes, which have been completely worn through.

“Every night, the King seals the girls in their room. And every morning, their brand-new dancing shoes are discovered to be worn through from dancing. No one, not even his wisest scholars or most sensible hunters could figure out how. So, the King puts out a proclamation” She raises her hand, and the figure of the King stands from his throne, holding the worn-out shoe in an outstretched hand. “’Whoever discovers the secret of my daughter’s dancing shoes, may marry one and take my place as King when I die’”

The figure of the King disappears, and in his place, is a young man in an intricately woven doublet. His fine hair is pulled back into a low ponytail. A bejeweled rapier rests in its hilt by his hip.

“A young prince from a neighbouring kingdom is the first to take up the challenge. And so, he is sealed in the antechamber of the Princesses’ rooms, that he may observe their comings and goings at night.”

The young prince lies down on a small cot that has appeared next to him. “But the prince travelled a great distance to arrive at the Kingdom, and his eyelids grew heavy with sleep.” The prince closes his eyes and drifts off into a peaceful slumber. “He doesn’t see where the Princesses go. But sure enough, the next morning, their shoes are full of holes in the soles” The Princesses parade their shoes in a circle around the young prince, almost as if to taunt him.

“On his second night, the same thing happens. The prince cannot stay awake, and the Princesses dance the night away”

The prince falls asleep again, but this time, he disappears.

“On the third night, the young prince vanishes – as if he had never been there in the first place”

Now that has his attention. Lucanis raises an eyebrow at the empty cot floating in front of him.

“Curious” he mumbles, taking another sip of coffee.

She waves several other figures, all of different statures and heights and builds. Elves, dwarves, humans. Warriors and rogues and princes.

“Each potential suitor who takes up the King’s challenge meets the same fate. On the third night, they always disappear without a trace” Each figure winks out of existence, one by one.

“One day, an older, retired sailor from Rivain hears of the King’s challenge while passing through Orlais. He also hears that every previous suitor has disappeared after three nights. But he’s not worried”

With a flourish, a middle-aged man with a tall, well-built stature appears. His face is handsome, but scarred from battle. He’s dressed in humble traveller’s clothes and carries a mage’s stave on his back.

“He’s either very brave, or very stupid”

Madeleina just smiles and winks. “Or, he has help that the other suitors didn’t have”

An amorphous, shifting ball of light appears next to the Rivaini man. “The man was a mage. A tidemaker in the Rivaini navy. His mother was a Seer. Although usually only female mages undergo the training necessary to be able to communicate and bond with spirits, the man had a great talent for magic from a young age. His mother would never let him become possessed by one, like she could, but she taught him enough to be able to commune with them and ask their guidance”

The man walks through the air, with the ball of light bouncing along beside him.

“’Ho there, Spirit-Friend’ he said. ‘I should very much like to unravel the mystery of these Princesses and their dancing shoes. What wisdom can you offer me?’”

The Spirit whirs around the sailor-mage, “’Take not the wine the eldest Princess will offer you before bed. Pretend to be in a deep slumber. Then, under cover of dark, steal after the Twelve to discover what lies beneath the castle’”

If he wasn’t intrigued before, he certainly was now.

The spirit is waved away. The old sailor, armed with this new knowledge, presents himself to the figure of the King, hovering above him.

“The King welcomes the sailor, and just as he did with the other suitors, locks him in with the Princesses”

Madeleina brings the Princesses into view again.

“The oldest princess, Delphine, does exactly as the Spirit said she would. She offers the sailor a glass of wine.”

The figure of Delphine, wine goblet in hand, indeed offers the sailor a drink. But just as the spirit told him to, he refuses, by shaking his head and pretending to go to sleep. He lies down on the same cot the first prince used. The figures of the princesses surround his cot, rather ominously. Lucanis is convinced they’re going to murder him on the spot.

“’He refused the wine! What shall we do?’ cried the second oldest sister, Marie.” The sailor doesn’t stir in his cot. “‘He’s quite asleep, Marie – let’s just go. He cannot follow’ says the eldest. ‘Perhaps he will take the wine tomorrow night’”

One by one, the sisters form a circle around an ornate stone circle, floating beneath them. And like the princesses, one by one, the stones on the circle lift in the air, and a winding staircase opens into the floor.

“The princesses had a secret doorway in the castle. A doorway to another world – or so they thought, at least” Madeleina frowns, and as the princesses disappear down the staircase, the figure of the sailor, creeping behind them, comes back into view. He is glowing black, instead of blue.

“The sailor was clever. He used magic to wrap himself in a cloak of night so as to blend into the shadows. He followed the youngest sister, Charlotte, down the enchanted stairway.” The figure of the sailor walks slowly behind the youngest sister – a beautiful young woman with long, plaited hair and a simpler gown than her sisters.

As the figures continued down the staircase, Charlotte stops. “’Sisters- I know not why, but I fear something terrible will befall us tonight’, says the youngest sister. The other sister’s pause, and it’s the oldest who speaks next. ‘Oh, you goose, you are always frightened. Come, let us enjoy ourselves tonight’”

The figures continue down the endless stairway. The sailor, eager to see what lies at the end, gets a little too close to the figure of Charlotte. His boot catches the end of her dress.

“’Oh! Something pulled at my dress!’ cries the youngest sister, but the others do not heed her. ‘Goose, you have merely stepped on a nail. Come now’” Madeleina puppets the figure of Delphine to wave the other sisters down.

Everything disappears for a moment, while Madeleina regains her strength with a sip of coffee and a nibble of the Hazelnut Torte.

After she’s thoroughly cracked all her knuckles, her hands resume their work. She conjures into existence, the scene of a brilliant underground cavern. A castle within a castle. There is an eerie lake separating the princesses from their destination. Eleven longboats, similar to the one the Caretaker ferries them through the Crossroads with, appear at the lakeside.

The figures at the helm of the longboats is what intrigues him. Lucanis’ eyes widen as he realizes the eleven longboats are steered by the headless figures of the previous suitors.

“Mierda” He whispers, leaning back in his chair. “I didn’t know the Orlesians to be so… macabre”

Madeleina shrugs, “Surprising, right? When I first heard this story, I thought was from Nevarra, honestly”

She makes each princess file into a longboat. Charlotte takes her place beside Delphine in the first one. The headless body of the prince begins rowing them to the other side. The other longboats depart soon after. The figure of the sailor wastes no time sneaking onto one of the other longboats, so as not to tip the weight.

“As he rides with the princesses, the sailor has a sneaking suspicion that he is meant to helm the twelfth longboat. He is thankful for the spirits help, and thankful to have his head on his shoulders”

They arrive at the castle. Madeleina decorates the boughs of trees lining the path with leaves of silver and gold.

“The sailor knew he would need some kind of proof to bring to the King, so he snaps a twig from one of the trees and tucks it in his pocket” He watches the figure do so at Madeleina’s command.

She waves several instruments – trumpets, drums, harps, and more, into existence. They float in the air, above the princesses, and they each take their positions with a respective headless suitor. Except the last princess, Charlotte, who begins to dance on her own. They pirouette and twirl about, as if it was the most normal thing in the world.

“How did they find this strange castle in the first place?” Lucanis would usually never interrupt a story, especially not one as intriguing as this, but he had to know.

Madeleina gives a sad smile and erases all the figures with a flourish of her hand.

Soon, the figure of Delphine returns, and she is sitting alone on her bed, with her dancing shoes in her hands.

“’Woe is me’ she cried once. ‘I should like to dance with my sisters forever. Alas we are all to be married.’” Delphine lies on her bed and her shoes lay on her chest. “’We shall be scattered to the farthest reaches of the continent to find the most handsome matches. I would do anything to dance with my sisters for a while longer’”

“Ahh….” Lucanis nods. He can see where this is going.

“Yeah” Madeleina frowns. “Something heard her plea. Something that had been trapped in the castle for a long time, watching and waiting for the right time to strike.”

She raises a hand and forms a demon he could only surmise is Desire personified. It has large, bare breasts, barely covered by dangling jewels and chains. Narrow waist, wide hips. Everything about the demon was made to entice. Even its horns added a certain appeal.

He can feel Spite rolling his eyes in the back of his mind. He doesn't like Desire either.

“’Do not despair my child, for I have a way for you and your sisters to remain together, forever’ the Desire demon says to Delphine. ‘And should your father bring any suitors, take their heads and present them to me. I will make sure they never leave this castle. You and your sisters may dance your nights away in my domain. All you need to do is wear the shoes I will gift you every night’”

The desire demon gestures with her hand and twelve pairs of shoes, arranged neatly in a line, and glowing an eerie pink light, appear beside her.

“Delphine agrees, of course. She tells her sisters of the shoes and her plan. The dancing shoes were the key to unlocking the secret castle. Every night they would go and dance the night away. And every time a suitor would come, on the third night, they would behead him and drag his body down the winding staircase.”

A gruesome scene of the eldest princess hacking off the head of the younger prince from the start of the tale begins to play out in front of him. Red light spatters on the princess, before they all fade out.

He’s rubbing his beard absent-mindedly, completely engrossed in the tale now. He’s forgotten about his coffee, and his cake. Every pause stretches into an infinity. Spite is also eager to know how this one ends, and he claws at the backs of Lucanis’ eyelids impatiently.

Madeleina once again conjures the image of the underground castle. The princesses are dancing with their headless suitors, and their ballet shoes are glowing pink now.

“The sailor knows there is dark magic at work here, and he needs to stop it” The figure of the sailor moves soundlessly between the dancing couples. “He follows the trail of magic to the demon’s lair inside the castle”

A room filled with jewels and gold and all manner of treasures appears in front of Lucanis. The desire demon lounges on a settee, adorning herself in riches. She is propping her elbow on the head of a handsome elf. The fifth suitor, he remembers.

“The demon, true to its nature, offers to make any desire of the sailor’s come true” The demon begins sauntering towards the figure of the sailor, all swaying hips. Sailor draws his stave and starts preparing for a battle.

“’I want for nothing you can give me, demon’” The sailor replies. "'Save your head'"

A great battle of magic erupts between the two. They lob arcane missiles and bolts and fireballs at each other, until the Sailor summons the tides of the nearby lake to his side.

“The sailor overwhelms the demon with his power, and she perishes. Almost immediately, the spell over the underground castle starts to fade” The bodies of the dead suitors drop to the ground.

Next, the sailor is standing with the princesses, who all look like they’ve woken up from a dream.

“’What happened?’ asked Marie.” Madeleina has the sailor walk closer to her. He puts a reassuring hand on her shoulder. “’You were beset by a demon. Fear not, for I have slain it. But let this be a lesson. Put not your faith in whispers of promises too good to be true, my ladies.’”

With that, the sailor bows to the princesses and begins walking away.

“’But sir!’ The youngest calls after him, ‘Won’t you take a reward? Surely our father would give one of us to you in marriage and make you king?’”

The figure of the sailor smiles and twirls the silver branch he plucked from one of the trees.

“’It is reward enough to slay the demon that haunts this palace and learn the secret of your dancing shoes. I never came here to be king’”

Madeleina waves the figures away.

“The sailor continues on his journey across the continent, and Delphine makes peace with parting from her sisters by making the most of what time they have left”

With a final flourish, she has the figures of the twelve princesses pirouette around Lucanis’ chair. They disappear one by one soon after.

“The end”

Lucanis rubs the back of his neck, “That was … something” He says quietly. “I think I need more coffee”

Madeleina nods and stretches out her limbs. “And I think I’m in desperate need of a nap”

Lucanis stands and gathers their uneaten cake on a single plate, as well as their half-empty coffee cups. “Go on, I’m awake. I’ll clean this up. You should sleep”

There’s something in her eyes that makes him feel there’s more she wants to say but can’t bring herself to form the words.

Somewhere, deep in his chest, he knows exactly what it is she’s trying to tell him. Tried to tell him through her story.

But he’s not ready to face that particular truth yet.

There’s someone else’s lips he needs to hear it from. He shudders to think of seeing her wretched corpse again. Not ready for the feelings it’s going to bring up, nor the question he has to ask.

He knows, deep down, that Madeleina pieced it together already.

Lucanis just prays he has the strength to face it when the time comes.

[911lonestar911imagines]

The Creek - Evan 'Buck' Buckley x Reader 1/?

Summary: You grew up being best friends with the Buckley Siblings, all three of you coming from rough homes, but one by one everybody left, leaving you on your own to deal with it all..until one day you're able to tell Evan everything you wanted to the day he left.

Warnings: Mentions of drug use (cocaine), mentions/implications of past child abuse, implications that the father and friends are creeps.

A/N: Hello again, I am back! This is a new series I'm working on, this isn't edited or proof-read, so just lmk what you think!

You were only 6 whenever you met the Buckley’s, you had just moved into their neighborhood, taking residence in the home right next to theirs, you got really close with Maddy and Evan, you always met them in the creek a few blocks away of your guys’s houses. They never liked being home because their brother wasn’t there or their parents always yelled at Evan, and you never liked being home because your dad was really mean whenever he’d have his friends over to smell sugar together, which you always thought was weird until you were older and realized what exactly they were doing.

It became a ritual for years, always meeting them at the creek, you’d go on adventures, discovering new hidden spots around the creek where you’d play different imaginary games, but one day..Maddy wasn’t there anymore. Just Evan.

You pushed the branches from in front of you to reveal just the boy you watched grow from a little boy into a teenage boy, awkward acne covering his face, his hair dangling in front of his blood shot swollen eyes. “Hey Evan..what’s wrong?…is your sister hanging out with doug today?” You asked, disgust dripping in your voice whenever you mentioned her boyfriend “Maddie decided to move in with him..she’s gone..” he whispered, his voice cracking, you frowned rushing over hugging him tightly “are you okay?..I’m here for you Evan” you assured him squeezing him tightly, fighting off your own tears.

You two still met by the creek everyday, opening up more to each other day by day about what was going on at home, you ended up going to prom together, he was your escape from what was going on at home, the drug abuse got worse, and him and his friends got a lot creepier towards you now that you were getting older. After one night though, after a really bad fight with your dad, you rushed to the creek, your lip still dripping blood, your cheekbone slowly swelling and bruising, your sobs broke the silence in the air as you broke through the branches, and yet..nobody. Evan wasn’t there. Maybe something had happened at home?

You couldn’t think, you just ran, desperate to hear his words that somehow always comforted you, as you approached his house you saw his parents outside screaming towards Maddie’s jeep, Evan appearing from behind it holding a duffel bag “I don’t need this! I’m leaving!” He yelled before climbing in slamming the door, the tires squealing as he pulled off, and just for a moment, you thought at least, your teary eyes locked with his hate-filled ones. He just sped past, by now you had wiped the blood from your lip, making eye contact with his parents before shaking your head in disgust heading back to the house you so desperately wanted to run from just like Evan had done, why hadn’t he told you? He didn’t he take you with him? He knew what was going on at home, so why didn’t he?

You spent another 3 years in that home before finally leaving, moving with your friend who ended up getting a beach house from her parents in LA. You ended up getting a job babysitting a few kids that lived near your home, one kid specifically had most of your time, his father was a full-time firefighter and he had lost his mother not to long ago, so you were always trying to cheer him up.

As you walked into the Diaz household, you were greeted by your favorite noise, Christopher squealing and laughing from the living room "Alright, come on, Buck we gotta get to work before Bobby sends Hen out for us" You heard Eddie say to somebody "Eddie!? I'm here! Has Mr. Diaz eaten yet?" You called chuckling, it was something you had started calling Christopher after he had a bad day at school, you acted like a butler for the day taking him to do whatever he wanted that day, ever since then the name just stuck. "He has! his Buck took him out to eat at the pier this morning!" Eddie shouted back, you smiled walking through the doorway freezing right where you stood as you made eye contact with someone you swore you'd punch in the face next time you saw him. Evan fucking Buckley. "Oh hey! Buck this is Ms. Y/n, Ms. Y/n this is Buck!" Christopher cheered, Eddie picked up on your nervousness, coughing awkwardly nudging Buck forward who extended a hand out "Evan Buckley, but my friends call me Buck" He smiled, goddamnit that smile, you gulped down a sneer as you grabbed his hand going to shake it "Have we met you look really familiar?" He asked as you shook his hand smiling "Nope." You quickly replied "Alright come on, we're gonna be late" Eddie said, you watched as realization washed over Evan's face as he watched you the entire way out of the door.

"Eddie, you don't understand, I know her! and..I kinda did something messed up" Buck said as they climbed out of the firetruck heading towards the locker rooms to change, he had been trying to convince Eddie he knew you for 23 hours now, and finally, Eddie decided to humor him, letting him explain everything on the way to drop Buck off.

Whenever Eddie got home, he found Christopher fast asleep in his room, you posted up outside of his doorway in the hall, fast asleep leaning against the wall. "Hey, Y/n/n, come on, let's get you to the guest bed" He whispered, helping your still half asleep self to his guest bedroom, letting you fall asleep in there for the rest of the night.

You hadn't seen Evan again in three days, anytime you went to babysit Chris, Eddie would always give you a sympathetic look before leaving and it started to get under your skin, to the point where on your day off you drove to the firehouse, waiting patiently with the fire captain, Bobby Nash, for Evan to come in for a 'meeting'. You watched as Bobby nodded to the entrance where Evan walked in confused "I'll send him up for you" He said, giving you the same sympathetic look Eddie did as he left. You waited a few moments before Evan appeared at the top of the staircase "Y/n?" He asked nervously, scratching the back of his neck as he approached the chair in front of you. "I always said if I ever saw you again..I'd punch the little smile off of your face" You whispered, fidgeting with your nails, Buck sighed, his knee bouncing anxiously, waiting for the yelling and fighting that always came whenever he was a child getting reprimanded, but you just sat there. As he looked up he noticed the tears falling from your eyes onto your pantlegs "I-I was so worried about you, Evan" You whimpered quietly "Y-you left without even telling me anything..I-I thought I did something wrong, Evan" You continued, your broken voice slowly turning to a sob "I-I'm so sorry, y/n..I-I was hurting..and I needed to take time away, t-to find myself without hurting anybody I loved" He explained, His explanation just angered and upset you more "I was hurting! I was hurting, Evan! I told you about my dad! about his friends! everything I went through! you were my person, Evan! t-the one person i could cry to without being laughed at!" You cried pushing him off of you whenever he attempted to hug you "you left me, Evan. You left me there to die so you could save yourself. some firefighter" You scoffed, your face was red from crying, your entire body was shaking, you felt dizzy and like your legs were slowly turning into sand, your breathing was way faster than it should've been, you needed to get out.

As you approached the stairs, your vision was filled with spots and you knew this is where your walk ended for now. Eddie was quick to notice you as soon as he heard your shouts, rushing up the stairs skipping them three at a time to get to you right as you fell forward. Just by an inch he caught you, slowly lowering you down as he looked at Buck "Get me the med-kit and lifevac from the truck" He demanded, Buck quick to rush around the two of you to the ambulance, trying to swallow the lump in his throat, but as he lifted the bag from the ambulance the lump in his throat burst into sobs, he rushed up the stairs handing the supplies to Eddie looking at him "W-What do I do?" He whimpered.

You woke up not too long after that, your head was rested on Eddie's thigh as he watched the small machine monitoring your heartbeat, you took notice to someone holding onto your hand uncomfortably tight, you could feel something dripping onto your knuckles but from the way your body was positioned you couldn't see. "There she is, welcome back, Y/n" Bobby greeted, knelt a few feet in front of you, only now do you notice you've been moved to the carpeted part of the floor upstairs where you and Evan spoke. "I-I'm sorry, I need to go" You started but Eddie just rested his hand on your shoulder "You need to take it slow....That was almost a nasty fall, and your heart rate is still elevated" He said gently, you took his advice slowly sitting up, you could feel his hand resting on your upper back to help you support yourself until you were confident enough to do it on your own.

Once you were up, you saw him, Evan was still sat on the floor, off to the side holding your hand tightly, his leg bent slightly as it shook, his face almost resembling yours from earlier "Buckley, Easy on the hand" Bobby whispered gently to him, rubbing his shoulder gently, you had explained the situation to Bobby whenever you first got there, and while he knew Buck had somewhat of a dark past, he didn't think anything about the old friend Evan talked about. Bobby felt terrible for you both, seeing how much pain you were both in, he had met you before, he just knew you as Y/n the sweet babysitter that happily takes care of Chris. As Buck loosened his grip, you left your hand resting in his, you weren't sure if you should leave and never talk to anybody ever again, or maybe for a moment, you thought of staying, ignoring the glances of sympathy from others who now know your childhood story.

You stayed there for another hour before Eddie let you leave 'I just want to make sure you're okay' he'd tell you every time you asked to leave. As you sat on your couch in a daze you almost never noticed the knocking on your door, instead of answering like usual, you just shouted to come in, not moving from your position on your couch, covered in a blanket with your arms around your knees that were pulled to your chest. "I-I know you probably don't wanna see me but-" Evan's voice was cut off by Christopher's cheers as he made his way to you, wrapping his arms around you "Dad said you got sick today, so...I made Buck bring me over to take care of you!" He smiled, you could feel yourself starting to cry as you examined his happy cheerful face. Christopher was without a doubt the most thoughtful selfless boy you had ever met, so caring and sweet, and you were so happy to have him and his father as friends. Chris frowned sitting next to you as he hugged you as tight as he could "It's okay y/n.." He whispered, all you could do was hug him back, unable to say anything as Evan slowly walked over to sit on your recliner across from the couch "How about..I make us your favorite snack" He smiled getting up from his spot next to you to take the grocery bag from Evan rushing as fast as he could to the kitchen.

You were left in the living room with Evan, the air was thick as you tried to avoid his gaze "y/n.." He whispered, you could hear him shuffling around before feeling the cushion dip down next to you. "P-Please don't, Evan" You whimpered "I physically cannot handle this" You whispered, trying to stay strong, but once you met his gaze you folded, his curls were hanging infront of his puffy bloodshot eyes and all of a sudden you were kids again, Maddie had just moved out and you were at the creek. "I'm so sorry...I-I thought about you every day..I even tried to come back..to get you..or at least see you but your dad would tell me you left..or you ran off..or some random story.." He whispered "I never stopped looking for you..I left because Maddie ditched our plans of seeing the country..but once I realized I truly loved you, y/n..I always came back for you..I just..never found you until you showed up at Eddie's" He explained, his voice breaking, you could tell it was already strained "I have never cared more for anybody in this world than I did for you, and I was so fucking stupid for leaving you behind" He whispered, his breaking voice turned into a stifled sob whenever you fell into his chest, his arms wrapping around you tightly in a hug as you cried into your blanket "I hoped for you to come back every single time I had to deal with things alone..but you never did, Evan..so I left" You cried gripping onto his shirt

You ended up eating snacks and watching star wars with the boys until Chris ended up having to go home for the night, Evan promising he'd come back to you. You sat in the same spot waiting, watching the clock, your mind flashing back to all of the moments you'd spend watching the clock imagining Evan busting in to whisk you away but he never did. You turned slightly, watching the door, starting to imagine him walking through, the cute little smile he always had presenting itself as he walked in, but right as you started thinking that, the door opened. Buck walked in soaked from rain water, You smiled a bit "Didn't you have a jacket whenever you left?" You asked trying to hide your giggles "It started to pour and I didn't want Christopher's crutches to get wet or anything so I wrapped them in my jacket and a spare one I had in the truck" He explained sitting down next to you sighing "Evan!!" You groaned "You're gonna get my couch soaked!" You continued throwing your head back giggling, Evan smiled at you, not saying anything just admiring your smile and laugh.

You slowly looked at him noticing his stare "What's wrong?" You asked, nervousness starting to spread through your body "Nothing...I just..missed you" He whispered before bringing you into a hug, you sighed relaxing in his company, right as he went to kiss the top of your head gently, you went to look up at him, causing your lips to meet just right, neither of you pulled away though, Evan was as gentle as he could be. His fingertips felt like feathers as they gently cupped your cheek, your lips moving in sync together, the rain pattering softly on your window as you finally pulled away from each other.

"what now?.." You asked nervously.

[stxrshxpxd]

“i can hardly breathe around you”

paring: 90s damon albarn x reader

word count: 1.5k

warnings: smut

prompt: reader finds herself in an inappropriate dream about her oldest and best friend, and when she moans his name he responds.

I was somewhere between sleeping and waking and Damon’s hands were keeping me in my dream, wrapping tightly around my waist as his lips attached to my neck. I squirmed under him, panting and moaning in desperation for more, and when his fingers squeezed my flesh harder I let out a whimper of his name. For a few seconds it all felt right. He continued kissing down my neck, until he suddenly replied and everything ripped from me in an instant. His hands, his lips, his breath on my skin, all gone.

“Y/N?” my best friend of fifteen years asked in a soft voice and stared me down from next to me on my bed. He grimaced with confusion and concern. Reality flooded back to me in a heartbeat and I remembered we had been watching TV on my bed, we had both gradually lost interest, he had muted it and picked up his book, and I had slipped into a nap. Then I had moaned his name and clearly not just in my dreams.

“Yes?” I breathed, deciding to play dumb.

“Care to share your dream?” Damon asked, eyes fixed on me and book splayed open against his chest. Some amusement had joined the confusion in his face. My pulse quickened.

I quite literally couldn’t find in my brain what to say to him and all I could do was watch the emotions evolve in his expressions.

I had been beating myself up for a while because something had happened about a month ago and I had completely lost my mind, I thought. Seeing my best friend in a non-platonic light was simply unthinkable. But, gosh, that soft stare of his and that bottom lip gently caught between his teeth!

“Will you close your eyes?” he asked after too long a silence on my end.

I stared at him instead, for a long time, barely breathing. He asked again and I recognised something stirring wildly in his gaze. I couldn’t remember anything ever having been this serious between us before. It frightened me and I resorted to doing what he asked of me.

With my breath shallow and shaky and eyes softly closed, at last I felt Damon’s lips gently press against mine. My brain stopped working for a minute but then the only thing I could think to do was to reach my hand out, finding his chest was rid of the book and it was turning towards me. Closer, closer, closer. Until my hand was locked between our beating chests and he was determinedly kissing down my jaw and neck.

I wanted his lips everywhere on me and I blushed wildly at the thought. I had been doing a fine job at suppressing all these emotions for the last month, but he was making it really hard for me now.

“Damon,” I started when his lips jumped to my lower stomach and his fingers began to hook into my waistband. He glanced up from under his golden fringe and my stomach fluttered at the eye contact. My toes were twitching wildly with nerves and excitement. Really I didn’t want him to stop for even a second, but it was all so weird.

He simply smiled calmly at me and kissed my skin again while my sweatpants were pulled down my legs. That smile of his had calmed me so many times before and for the next moment I felt at ease. I even closed my eyes and let a half shaky but deep breath out, and I allowed his warm palms to spread my thighs apart.

“My god, you’re wet,” he whispered, astounded. “Dream-me is that good, huh?”

I laughed but my cheeks burned with embarrassment, impulsively trying to close my legs again and reaching to push his shoulders away. But he stayed and firmly held my legs apart.

“Hey, it’s me,” Damon reminded me in a smooth voice.

“Exactly!” I laughed nervously, finding it nearly impossible to get past the absurdity of having my best friend’s breath fan over my damp underwear while his hands clasped around the inside of my thighs. God, his hands though!

“Exactly,” he echoed in a quiet voice and raised his brows. I knew he was referring to my moaning his very name in my sleep just minutes ago, and I sighed.

Within seconds his lips were back on me again but this time they kissed me through my pants and I thought my heart jumped out of my chest for a moment. He did it again. And again. And he added more pressure and then his tongue. I screwed my eyes shut and at last couldn’t feel anything past the pleasure. For the next few minutes I could hardly recall the embarrassment, as he peeled my underwear to the side and once again buried his face in me.

“Do you wanna say my name again?” Damon tried his luck as I had begun breathing heavily and letting little moans out. His voice vibrated through my abdomen and I felt a hint of my high teasing me momentarily.

“Damon,” I whispered cautiously and felt his teeth against my hot skin as he grinned.

“Mhm,” he murmured into me again and continued lapping up my wetness with his skilled tongue, pushing me towards my edge.

“I’m gonna…” I whined but felt the embarrassment come over me again. “Fuck.. Dames!”

Calling him by his sweet nickname made me cringe for a second, but he continued smirking through his kissing and licking and sucking and I couldn’t stop my thighs from clasping around his head. The orgasm pierced through my body, making my legs tremble and my voice settle in a defeated whimper.

Quickly reality caught up with me again once I made it out of the haze and I was partly mortified as my oldest and best friend kissed up my body again and his lips reconnected with mine.

We spent an eternity kissing between shaky breaths and in my head I yelled at my cheeks until they eventually cooled a tad.

“Can we really do this?” I asked in a barely audible whisper.

“I don’t know if you were here just now but we just did,” he teased and we both laughed, my eyes still closed and our mouths constantly balancing between kissing and breathing.

“Yeah, I guess we did.”

A minute passed of slightly more kissing than breathing and then it evened out again.

“Did you know lately I can hardly breathe around you?” I whispered and barely felt his lips curl into a smirk. I peaked at it slightly but made sure not to look him in the eye.

“Yeah, I noticed,” he mumbled with his smirk widening and a chuckle pouring out of him and into me. I smiled and laughed gently too.

Damon slid off of me but just about everything of his stayed touching me and his head laid just next to mine, noses grazing. There was only breathing for the better half of a minute. At last I felt our familiar comfortable silence coming back to us. I stared at his face and studied his eyes, brows, cheeks and nose and lips. Then my gaze drifted to the ledge where the wall met the ceiling and I let my mind wander to more trivial territory for a breather.

“What are you thinking?” he asked.

“I’m worried what my hair will look like tomorrow if I wear it in a bun to bed,” I answered honestly and instantly I felt the hot breath of his laughter hit my face. We chuckled together and he smiled back at me with twinkling eyes.

“See, this is us!” he insisted. “We still talk about silly things and laugh. Only we have sex too.”

My cheeks flushed red again but I couldn’t stop smiling. I reached my hand out to poke my fingertips around in the side of his hair and let another few moments pass as I pondered.

“Could we also… hold hands?” I suggested, stomach fluttering anxiously again. “And kiss?”

Damon gave me a slight nod.

“And not kiss other people?”

At that his smile grew and he was quick to respond.

“I can’t remember what it’s like kissing anyone else.”

A laugh bubbled inside me and my hand caught his cheek and pressed our lips together again.

“Good job. That was the right answer,” I mumbled into our kiss.

[tortillamastersblog]

♕ No Matter What - Part 12 | Lena Luthor ♕

Pairing: Lena Luthor x reader

Warnings: violence

Summary: The dinner with Lena doesn’t exactly go as planned. . .

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A permanent smile is etched on my face as I hurry to the convenience store. Not even the rain, or the cold can dampen my mood right now.

A gust of wind whips some rain in my face, so I pull my hood even further over my head and look down, focusing on not stepping into puddles.

I’ve always liked the rain, especially the sound of it against the pavement or a window, but I don’t like the cold that is starting to set in.

It’s the beginning of October and as I keep walking I think of everything that’s going to happen from now on.

Will Lena and I spend Halloween together? Is she one for dressing up?

What about Thanksgiving? Would she be up to celebrate with me, Sam, and Ruby, or does she want to keep what we have between just the two of us for a while?

And what about Christmas? And New Year’s?

What about my contract? When do I sign my resignation letter? When will I officially no longer be Lena’s bodyguard?

All those questions fill my head as I keep walking with my head down.

When I get to the store, I make quick work of getting everything we need before heading back out with a spring in my step.

I can’t wait to get back and see where the rest of the night goes. We’ll probably cook together, listening to music, then eat on the couch, watching a movie.

I’m not so sure about our sleeping arrangements from now on, but I’ll just wait and see how the night goes.

I grin like an idiot and think of Lena and how her lips tasted on mine. They were warm and soft and the kiss was more than I could have ever dreamed of.

She is incredible and I can’t believe she actually likes me even after I told her about Noah.

I’m so lost in thought that I don’t notice a figure stepping out of a dark alley to my left until it’s already too late.

With a sickening thud, a baseball bat makes contact with my back and I yelp, dropping to the ground. The groceries I just bought spill out of the paper bag and the bottle of Lena’s favorite wine I had enough afterthought to buy breaks on the curb. My whole back stings and my arms and legs tingle as a numb feeling spreads through them.

I writhe in pain and gasp for air like a fish out of water as the rain pelts down on me.

The guy that attacked me, bends down beside me. He has his hood pulled over his head and I can’t make out his face, but I do see the sickening smile that pulls at his lips.

“Tell Ms. Luthor her brother sends his regards.”

That’s all the he says before stalking off, his long coat billowing behind him as he vanishes around a corner.

I continue to try and catch my breath, whimpering every time I move because a blinding pain shoots up my spine and into my head.

I close my eyes and focus on breathing, partly aware of my now wet sweatpants sticking to my skin.

In and out.

In and out.

In and out.

Who was that guy? And what does Lex want from Lena? Have they been in contact? If so, why hasn’t she told me about it?

Minutes go by and I continue to stay on the ground, shaking. I haven’t been in this much pain since being shot in the shoulder.

A tear trickles down my cheek, mixing with the rain on my skin and I let out an involuntary sob.

Just a few minutes ago everything was perfect and the prospect of cooking dinner with Lena made me feel warm all over.

Now, I’m just cold.

After what feels like forever the sharp pain in my back finally subsides, leaving behind a dull ache.

It hurts when I breathe and I assume it’s because my spine and ribs are injured, but I have to get home somehow and because there’s not a single soul around to help me, I drag myself to my feet with a groan after gathering all the groceries off the ground.

The paper bag they were in is wet and falling apart, so I leave it along with the broken bottle of wine and carry everything else scooped up against my stomach.

I stumble back home, my back throbbing painfully in time with my racing heart and my uneven breaths and open the door to the apartment with trembling hands.

The warmth from inside does little to comfort me in my soaked clothes and I shudder, putting the groceries down by the door before slipping off my shoes.

Just then, Lena comes walking out of the bedroom, running a brush through her damp hair. She looks cozy in my shirt and sweatpants and for a split second I forget about what just happened.

“You sure did take your time,” she jokes, not really looking at me as she heads to her phone on the kitchen island.

I chuckle softly and slump back against the door. My eyes flutter shut and I lift a shaky hand to unzip my drenched jacket.

“You know, I was thinking we could watch that movie you told me about last week. What was it again? The Imitation Game?”

“Yeah,” I mumble, wincing when I peel my jacket off my body. It lands on the ground with a wet thud and I slump back against the door to catch my breath.

“Great. Now, did you get everything we need or— Oh my God ?!” I feel hands on my face within the next few seconds and I revel in the way the simple touch makes my skin tingle.

My eyes open slowly to find Lena watching me with wide and worry-filled eyes. Her hands rund down my neck and over my shoulders and I wince when the light pressure makes my back sting.

She immediately moves her hands back up and cups my cheeks again. “What happened? Where does it hurt?”

“M-my back. . .” Is all I manage to get out and Lena is quick to grab the hem of my hoodie.

Her eyes meet mine in silent question and I just nod, letting her guide the fabric up and over my head. I choke back a whimper when my arms drop back down to my side and don’t object when Lena’s hands land on my hips to turn me around.

Under different circumstances I’d be swooning, feeling her hands on me like this, but right now I just feel miserable.

“Oh my God, Y/N. . . Who did this to you?” she asks quietly, her voice breaking. Her warm hands travel up the side of my waist, but stop below where the bat struck.

She doesn’t dare to touch what I’m assuming is an already angry looking bruise and I’m thankful for it.

“We have to get you to a hospital,” she says. “Your spleen could have ruptured, or your lungs could be bruised. I’ll call Alfred to come and pick us up. Just wait here.”

“No, Lena we can’t. It’s too public,” I object, turning back around to face her.

Her eyebrows are pulled together in disbelief and she takes my hand, squeezing it. “It doesn’t matter. You’re hurt and—“

“No,” I say sternly. “We can’t.”

She pulls her hand back and clenches her jaw. “Why are you being so stubborn about this?! This isn’t about me! This is about you. You’re hurt and I’m not just going to stand here and do nothing about it. You need to see a doctor, Y/N!”

“It is about you!” I snap. “The guy who did this told me to tell you that Lex sends his regards!”

Lena’s whole face drops and she pales visibly. “What?”

I nod and hang my head shamefully, feeling bad for having snapped at her. I made it sound like she’s the reason this happened, so I step forward and take her hand, lacing our fingers together.

“I’m sorry. That came out wrong,” I say softly. “It’s not your fault this happened.”

Lena shakes her head with watery eyes and her chin begins to wobble. “No, no it is. I can’t believe this. I’m so sorry.”

“Stop, this is not your fault,” I say, closing the distance between us to wrap my arms around her in a hug. My back protests when she reciprocates the embrace, but I do my best to ignore it and focus on her. “Your brother is a grade A asshole and you have nothing to apologize for. Got it?”

Lena stays silent and I lean back to meet her eyes with raised eyebrows. “Got it?”

She sighs and blinks back her tears before nodding. I hum, satisfied, and press a lingering kiss to her forehead.

“You should still get your back looked at,” she argues weakly, one of her hands moving to lay flat against the small of my back.

“Lena, I can’t—“

“Yes you can,” she interrupts, her eyes widening when an idea comes to her. She pulls away completely and grabs her phone from the kitchen island. “Kara’s sister, Alex, is a doctor at a nearby government research facility. I’m sure she’ll be able help.”

I want to object but Lena’s already on the phone with Alex, explaining the situation and nodding along to whatever the woman on the other end is saying.

I shiver, still soaking wet, and head to the bedroom to change into a new set of comfortable clothes.

It’s a bit of a struggle to get a sweatshirt over my head, so I opt for a zip-up hoodie, sighing when the soft fabric makes contact with my tender back.

I sit on the edge of my bed and rub my eyes with a tired sigh.

“You ready?” Lena asks a few minutes later, appearing in the doorway with her phone in her hand.

“I guess,” I say quietly. “But what about dinner?”

Her eyes soften. “Let’s postpone it until you’re feeling better.”

I pout and hang my head. I was really looking forward to cooking with her but she’s right. I really need to get checked out to make sure I don’t have any internal bleeding.

“Okay, let’s go,” I say, getting up and following Lena out of the apartment after we both put on some shoes and a jacket.

Alfred’s already waiting for us and ushers us into the car before driving off.

The radio is turned off and the only sound I can focus on is the rain against the windshield and Lena’s soft breathing next to me.

I can feel her watching me, especially when we drive over a bump in the road and I wince, but I don’t acknowledge it. I’m still trying to process what happened and I’m not in the mood to talk right now.

So, instead, I move my hand to the space between us and turn it so my palm is facing up.

Lena’s eyes drop down and she gets what I want immediately, sliding her hand into mine and intertwining our fingers with a soft squeeze.

I lean my head against the window and close my eyes.

I must have drifted off for a few minutes because when Lena squeezes my hand and I open my eyes, I notice that we’re parked outside a huge glass skyscraper with two towers.

Lena gives me an encouraging nod and disconnects our hands so we can get out after Alfred opens the door from outside.

It’s still raining, so we hurry toward the dimly-lit lobby where I noticed a dark figure already waiting for us.

As we come closer I recognize her as Kara’s sister and she wordlessly leads us inside, past two security guards who eye us with some curiosity.

We take a glass elevator up a couple of floors and when we step out, I’m blinded by fluorescent lights.

The lobby was mostly dark and deserted, but up here the place is bustling with people. We get a few weird looks here and there, but no one actually seems to mind our presence.

Alex leads us down a hallway before turning right and entering a spacious room. Theres an examination table right in the middle of it and it’s surrounded by a heart rate monitor and other medical equipment I can’t put a name to.

“So, Lena told me what happened and I think it’s best if we do an ultrasound first,” Alex says, gesturing for me to get on the examination table.

I nod wordlessly and get on the table, looking up to find Lena standing by the door, anxiously chewing on her thumb. She hasn’t said a word since we left the apartment and I have the feeling it’s because she feels guilty for what happened.

“Could you maybe take off your hoodie?” Alex asks, pulling my attention away from the young CEO and I nod, taking it off with a wince.

I don’t know her all that well, but I have met her a couple of times because she sometimes joins Kara and Lena’s lunch get-togethers.

“Alright, now just lie back and try to relax,” she says, smiling softly when she senses my ever growing anxiety.

What if I’m actually seriously injured? Will I need surgery? Where will I stay? More importantly, where will Lena stay?

I swallow thickly and do as I’m told, lying down with a poorly suppressed whimper. It seems to snap Lena out of her trance and she wordlessly joins my side, tentatively placing her hand on my shoulder.

Alex glances between the two of us with an unreadable expression before squirting some ultrasound gel onto the transducer.

She turns off the light and takes a seat next to the examination table before getting to work.

The gel is cold on my skin and I suck in a breath, feeling Lena tense beside me.

Alex raises an eyebrow. “You okay?”

I nod sheepishly and ball my hands into fists. “Yeah. Sorry. It’s just a little cold.”

She smiles softly and gets back to doing whatever it is she’s doing, running the transducer all over my abdomen.

I look at the screen of the ultrasound machine even though I don’t know what I’m supposed to be looking for. Everything looks blurry, a mix of grays, blacks and whites, but it must mean something to Alex because after a while she stops and hands me some paper towels to wipe off the excess gel.

“Well, you don’t have any internal bleeding as far as I can tell. You’re kidneys and your spleen are both in tact,” she says, getting up to turn the lights back on.

Lena lets out a barely audible breath of relief and helps me sit up.

“Thank you, Alex.” I say. “For doing this, I mean.”

“Of course,” she says softly, gesturing for me to stand up and turn around so she can examine my back and ribs.

Her hands carefully run down the length of my spine and I gasp, biting my tongue to stop myself from crying out in pain. Then, she moves her hands to press on either side of my ribcage and again I squeeze my eyes shut to will away the tears pooling in the corner of my eyes.

When she finally stops touching me, I start shaking and I stumble sideways. Lena is quick to put her hands on my shoulders and guides me to lean against the examination table.

Her eyes are filled with worry, raking up and down my body before they meet mine. Her eyebrows are furrowed and the look she’s giving me is heartbreaking, so I try to reassure her with a small smile.

It has the exact opposite effect though because it’s more of a grimace than a smile, and Lena bites the inside of her cheek and averts her eyes.

“Alright, as far as I can tell nothing is broken, but we should get an x-Ray of your back just to make sure,” Alex says, scribbling something down on a notepad.

I nod and let her lead me into a small, adjacent room, leaving Lena behind.

The room is equipped with an x-ray machine and Alex makes quick work of getting all the shots she needs before taking me back to the other room.

“You can put your clothes back on,” she says, taking a seat by one of the computers.

Lena grabs my hoodie and holds it up so I can slip it on without straining my back too much. I thank her quietly and go to stand next to Alex who while I got dressed, pulled up the images of my x-rays on the computer.

She zooms in on my spine and ribs, looking for fractures while explaining what exactly she’s looking for.

Lena joins my side, her shoulder brushing against my arms as she leans forward to get a better look herself.

Her eyebrows are furrowed in concentration and her eyes shine with interest as Alex goes on talking and I can’t help but watch her rather than listen to what Alex is saying.

Only when she sighs in relief do I direct my attention back to Alex who’s smiling softly, having obviously noticed my distraction.

“So?” I asks, feeling slightly embarrassed that I didn’t hear what she ultimately said.

“You’re going to be okay,” she says. “Just take it easy for a couple of days and put ice on your back if necessary.”

I smile, relieved, and thank her with a heartfelt handshake.

“No problem,” she says, turning off all the lights and leading us back to the elevator.

When we get to the lobby, Lena hugs her tightly, something I didn’t dare to do because I don’t know her that well.

They exchange a few hushed pleasantries and after Alex assures her she’ll say hi to Kara from her, we part ways.

Alfred, who hasn’t moved the car, gets out of it and opens the door for us with a polite nod.

The drive home is silent just like the way over and I close my eyes, feeling a wave of exhaustion wash over me.

I noticed Lena keeping somewhat of a distance between the two of us while Alex was around, probably because this thing between us, whatever it is, is still brand new, but now she’s basically glued to my side.

She’s sitting in the middle seat, one of her hands in mine while the other is curled around my arm.

She looks at our intertwined hands, lost in thought, but I don’t ask her about it until we’re back at the apartment.

“Are you alright?” I ask when we settle down on the couch after ordering some takeout. “You’re awfully quiet. . .”

Lena cuddles into my side, mindful of my back, and takes my hand to run her fingers over my knuckles. “I just. . . I’m scared, Y/N. I knew Lex wanted to get back at me for testifying against him during his trial, but I never thought he’d target you.”

“I get it,” I say, pressing a kiss to the top of her head. “You have a right to be scared, but you need to know that it’s not your fault. This scares me, too, I’m not going to lie, but my number one priority— no matter what happens between us— is to keep you safe.”

Lena hums and rests her head against my chest, her eyes focused on the black screen of the turned-off TV.

I know I’m not getting through to her, but I don’t want to push her, so I close my eyes and rest my cheek against the top of her head.

Tomorrow’s a new day and we can talk more then. For now I just want to eat dinner and go to bed.

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Hi! Sorry for the delay, but like I said I’m super busy at the moment, so updates will be a little slow.

Tag list: @nerethos @orange15quote @nuianced-tck-enby @autorasexy @unexpected-character @nothisismax @wandatasha

[alexbkrieger13]

Harder: "Underrated? I get enough recognition"

According to her coach, Bayern's Pernille Harder (31) is still underrated. She sees it differently, talks about her role, her goals - and the duel with her former club Wolfsburg.

Just in time for the start of the Champions League against Arsenal this Wednesday (6.45 p.m.) and the Bundesliga top match against Wolfsburg (Saturday, 5.45 p.m., both LIVE! on kicker), Germany's Footballer of the Year 2020 is back in top form. So a visit to the Oktoberfest was a perfect fit for the Dane Pernille Harder and her Bayern teammates.

According to her coach, Bayern's Pernille Harder (31) is still underestimated. She sees it differently, and talks about her role, her goals - and the duel with her former club Wolfsburg.

Pernille Harder recently scored three times against TSG Hoffenheim.

Pernille Harder recently scored three times against TSG Hoffenheim.IMAGO/DiZ-PiX

Just in time for the start of the Champions League against Arsenal this Wednesday (6.45 p.m.) and the Bundesliga top match against Wolfsburg (Saturday, 5.45 p.m., both LIVE! on kicker), Germany's 2020 footballer of the year is back in top form. So a visit to the Oktoberfest was a perfect fit for the Dane Pernille Harder and her Bayern teammates.

Ms. Harder, how was the trip to Oktoberfest with the team?

A good experience. It's always interesting to experience German culture, especially here in Bavaria. Last year I was there for the first time, now for the second time.

Do you like the hustle and bustle there?

It's always a nice experience and fun, but I don't have to go to Oktoberfest every weekend (laughs). I generally prefer quieter places.

You seem to have a very good atmosphere in the team. That's probably not least due to the results this year.

Yes, we're really well positioned, a close-knit group. That's also because we don't have a huge squad - everyone has an important role in the team. That contributes to the atmosphere. We win, we score a lot of goals.

Apart from the DFB Cup final against Wolfsburg, you haven't lost a single game this year.

There is a lot of self-confidence in the team. This is based on the many victories and the experience we have gained there. Even if we are behind, we have the confidence to come back. And we trust our style of play. The way we are now, the way we are playing, we have developed a lot as a team compared to a year ago.

You previously played for VfL Wolfsburg and FC Chelsea and won a series of titles there. Can you get used to winning?

I don't know if I'm used to it… you shouldn't take it for granted. I like it anyway (smiles). And sometimes you lose too. We don't want to sit back and rest on our laurels, we want to develop and get better.

Wolfsburg suffered a surprise 0-3 defeat to Frankfurt a week ago. Do you watch this or other Bundesliga games in your free time?

I watch the Bundesliga, our Bundesliga, whenever I can. We were still eating after our own game against Bremen when Frankfurt played Wolfsburg, so I could only watch on my phone.

Is Eintracht now the number one pursuer? Or, despite the mixed start to the season, is Wolfsburg still your next league opponent?

We definitely have an exciting league. Frankfurt and Wolfsburg will both fight for the top spots. It's all the more interesting, all the more fun, when there's more competition.

Between 2017 and 2020 you played for VfL - your first stop at a top European club.

I have good memories of it, it was a great time. For me, that was the point in my career where I went from being a relatively unknown player to an established player in Europe. I am grateful to VfL for putting their trust in me as a young player. I still have some good contacts there.

Let's move on to the Champions League. Your coach Alexander Straus says that FC Bayern "got the toughest possible opponents from some of the pots". Do you agree?

I think there are two difficult groups. We are in one of them. And yes, Juventus is probably the strongest team in pot 3. We have to concentrate on each game individually. If we are fully there in these games, we have a good chance of progressing.

In January, your teammate and partner Magdalena Eriksson said in a kicker interview that FC Barcelona and Olympique Lyon were the top favorites for the 2023/24 title. Has anything changed since then?

Barcelona will always be the top favorite at the moment. But we now have so much competition in women's football that not just one or two teams can win. I estimate that apart from Barca there are about eight that have the opportunity to get very far in this tournament.

Which ones are they?

We also have Lyon, Manchester City, Arsenal, Chelsea. And Juventus, AS Roma, Bayern and Wolfsburg.

So do you see yourself as being on a par with the other seven behind Barcelona?

It's all about the little things. When you're in the quarter-finals, it often depends on your form on the day.

But your coach thinks Arsenal are the top favourites in Group C.

Yes, difficult to say… It's been a while since we played against them. Arsenal are a great team with a lot of great players.

Who come to mind first?

Kim Little is important for them. Mariona Caldentey came from Barcelona, ​​a great player. For me she is already a key player, even though she is new to the team. Stina Blackstenius and Alessia Russo are worth mentioning, Frida Maanum has performed well this season. They have a lot of good players.

With Chelsea, they have won five of their eight games against Arsenal, and drawn two. So they know how to beat Arsenal.

We have to defend compactly. Arsenal want to play the game, they are good at finding gaps and spaces. We will have some good moments of transition, but we can also play our game with the ball. Maybe we have to defend a little more against them than we are used to. Without becoming passive, but being aggressive.

Then we play against Juventus. In the pre-season, you played 0-0 against the Italians. What do you remember from that?

Juventus played man-to-man, one-on-one, all over the field. That made the game very different to what we are used to. But this experience can also be an advantage for us.

Do you like this man-oriented defense of opposing teams?

I like it better when it is possible to find space. We don't come up against so many teams that play man-marking all over the field. Maybe some teams do that up front or in midfield - but not everywhere. We will prepare well for that.

Valerenga Oslo is the absolute underdog in your group. Or?

They are from pot 4, so on paper they are an underdog team, yes. I know a few players from there, including a Danish player (captain Janni Thomsen, editor's note), she is a really good player. It applies to all teams in the group stage: if you are not fully there on the day, any team can hurt you. Even Valerenga.

Why is FC Bayern better than in the previous season? Why is the season not ending in the group phase this time?

We are almost the same team as last season. But we have developed our game since then. We are more attuned to the way we want to play, both offensively and defensively. And our transition behavior has improved.

What do you think of the new Champions League mode from next season?

That will be interesting. The men are already gaining their first experiences with it. It's always fun to try something new.

Before the Bundesliga game against Hoffenheim (5:1) at the end of September, your coach said that you hadn't yet broken the deadlock. Then you scored three times in that very game. Did you also feel like you had broken the deadlock?

Of course, as an offensive player you always want to score your first goal of the season to get going. But I also try to concentrate on other things that I do on the pitch: creating chances and providing assists. For me, that's just as important as the goals. Even though I know that the media and the people around me like the goals more. But the goals come by themselves if the rest is right.

Straus also said that you were underestimated and didn't get the recognition you deserve.

(laughs) I think I get enough recognition, that's fine. I don't know if I'm underestimated. But I'm glad that the coach thinks I'm important to the team. That's the most important thing for me: that my team trusts that I'll deliver and that I get recognition from them.

Before you left the Bundesliga for England in the summer of 2020, it sometimes seemed as if you could score and set up goals at will. In the meantime, your opponents have gotten better.

We played differently with Wolfsburg than we do now at Bayern. That's why it's difficult for me to compare.

But you can compare the opponents.

That's right. The level in the Bundesliga has increased since then, no question about it. There has been a big development. Also that there are now more teams that are good with the ball. And almost all of them want to build up from the back through the goalkeeper.

Your coach sometimes uses you as a striker, sometimes as a ten, sometimes on the wing. Which position suits you best?

I prefer to move in the "space in between" (Harder uses the German term here for once; ed.), where I can pick up the ball and then turn. Thanks to our style of play, I can stay in the space in between, regardless of whether I'm a nine, ten or winger. So the exact position is actually not that important.