#and if you see someone cleaning up glass and oil from the table and floor

[sunsetdesire]

"why am i treated like the crazy one?" i exclaim when i am likely being the crazy one

[viisator]

Two words of love - P.Sunghoon

Pairings: Park Sunghoon X F!Reader

Genre: Psychological thriller. Drama.

Warning: death.

Description: Have you ever felt like you're living to survive? What if someone you dearly love brought you to hell? What if you're no longer able to survive? Will you kill yourself, or him instead?

Not Proofread

(the description is shitty but I went through my drafts again and saw that this is finished...one of my favs but the first half part is boring...but the ending is kinda cute so...yeah. I'll be in senior high btw.)

• • • • •

Flesh and bone met each other as the sweet taste of iron filled Y/n’s mouth. She hugged her shudders as she lay her whole body on the cold floor, waiting for another pain to touch her in a few seconds. But there came none.

9:41. She closed her eyes as she listened closely to Sunghoon’s movements. She heard him walk away from her as the door creaked open and closed.

It’s been that way since they married three years ago. It’s been her job to ease his stress whenever Park Sunghoon’s been beaten up with his career, and still…all this time she said none. She’d gladly do his meal, do his laundry, clean all the things he had that should be clean, massage him whenever he needed it, sing him a lullaby if he could not sleep, tell him all sorts of lies to ease his worries, but all of those—best. it should suit his taste. It should be perfect. It should be something like him. It should be the best. Park Sunghoon does not need Y/n’s advice, doesn’t need her to complain, and doesn’t want her poor work; she must do all things to perfection. He just could not accept it if anything’s not to his taste if she complained—no. she should never. He does not need her voice to speak with any kind of authority and complaints; after all, he had never brought money to her table less than any job she’d had, paid her. But even requesting food or asking her what she wants for dinner is forbidden.

Y/n pulled herself up from the floor before her whole body turned cold from lying for too long. Lifting her heavy bruised head, the wall clock ticked for midnight. She had been lying for three hours without any kind of movements but her breathing. She looked around her, the whole house was neat, the floor could even pass as a bed, but the broken pitcher on the kitchen floor—she needed to clean it up before Sunghoon felt his thirst. So as fast as her beaten bruised body could do, she grabbed all the shards on the floor, hastily picking every piece of glass—she needed to hurry because probably in no time, he might wake up from the loud noise her chest was making…Y/n can see red. She needs to clean it up. But the glass. Clean the glasses first then clean the red on the floor, clean the red on her hands, clean her shaking hands, clean her wobbly feet, clean her shivering body. She could not breathe, she could barely see the shards she was picking. If only she could turn it all back and never loved him—never married him.

Y/n tapped her screen to turn off the alarm. 6:04. Pulling herself from the couch, she heaved a sigh. An hour from now, Sunghoon will be awake for work. Y/n wasted no more seconds and went to the kitchen, rinsed white rice then proceeded to turn on the rice cooker, broke an egg, cut a sausage in half, and threw it on the hot oiled pan. Y/n can barely feel the cuts on her palms, and can hardly complain about the throbbing of her body.

The sound of pouring water, and the burning of the wounds and bruises all around Y/n’s body made her wince in pain. If only the water were quiet whenever it hit the bathroom floor, and if only the pain in her back never made her make such a sound. She’s afraid he’ll wake up and hurt her again.

_______

She heard the shower open and the door slammed closed. 6:57. That fast? Pouring water into the kettle, she hastily put two scoops of tea into the teapot. 7:06. He should be putting on clothes now and should be done in a moment. Y/n put a plate on the table as neatly as possible, took a pair of chopsticks, and took Sunghoon’s favorite seasoning from the cabinet.

Sunghoon didn’t say a word as he pulled the chair and sat down soundlessly. Y/n put a half teaspoon of nutmeg into his rice, poured the boiling water into the teapot, and served her peaceful husband a cup of tea.

They stayed quiet as Y/n cut three carrots, while Sunghoon eat his meal. Y/n can still remember the night they first met, the jobs that made them so close, and the whole moment of their wedding. Now Y/n could only wait for him to leave so she could sleep at least just for an hour.

“Karin will be eating dinner with me.” Sunghoon will not be home until tomorrow afternoon. Y/n could sleep a day, or at least walk Gauel to the park later or tomorrow morning. But Sunghoon must not see her slacking off. He doesn't like it when she rest.

After Sunghoon put down his utensils and stood up, Y/n ran to fetch a coat for him and grabbed his things while she waited for him by the door. She held the coat wide for him to wear and gave him his things, held the door open until he stepped outside their apartment.

“Come back safely.” Sunghoon went on his way without answering—like usual—and Y/n locked the door once he was out of sight.

Park Sunghoon is a former idol and is currently big in the modeling industry. Eleven years ago when he started his modeling, after a year of being a minor model, he became a Vogue cover, went to different countries, endorsed, modeled, and walked through the runway with different luxury brands. In the years of his success, there he met Lee Y/n. Y/n was Sunghoon’s makeup artist for seven years, and she’s the sister of one of his friends Lee Heeseung. There were times and events when Y/n and Sunghoon interacted outside of work because of their connection with Lee Heeseung. Time passed. They fell in love and dated for four years.

_____

Sunghoon was the sweetest when they dated. Always checking on her, asking for what she thinks, and what she likes. He’d take care of her when she was unable to take care of herself. He’d act like a child just to get her attention. She always felt like the most significant person in the world. The most important person to him. She didn’t know what happened.

The feeling of knocking loudly on the hard tiled floor, and the feeling of feeling nothing at all—Park Sunghoon lifted himself from laying, then eventually felt warm hands on his shoulders and back, guiding him on the pillow to lean on his back, then he slap the hands away.

The last thing Sunghoon remembered was that he was feeling sick, then suddenly lost consciousness, unable to register what was happening around him, then eventually knocked himself down while on shoot.

“I was worried—”

“You did this, didn’t you?” Voice lashed with cold, he looked up at Y/n who met his eyes.

“Did what...?”

He couldn’t believe her. How could she act all innocent? Was she jealous of Karin that’s why she did this. Was she mad at him because of what happened last time with their date? Just what is wrong with her?

Y/n creased a confused face. She thought he liked it when she added a little nutmeg on his rice. What is it this time? Y/n truly is getting tired.

“Put nutmeg on my food every single meal.” His face was solid rock. His brows met each other while his jaw clench hard.

“You—you said you liked it when I add nutmeg into your rice?” She whispered as she held her hands tightly below her, preventing them from shaking.

“We’ll talk later at home.” Sunghoon managed to say on gritted teeth, while Y/n swallowed whatever she could swallow.

Was it her fault again? She didn’t know why he fainted, the doctor didn’t say anything to her, all she knew was that he fainted while on the shoot...but she wished he’d not hurt her, she wished he’d just forget whatever her sin was, she would gladly apologies to him—kneel and beg for forgiveness, ask for him not to give her another cut and bruise to fix and cover.

Sunghoon slowly pushed himself off the bed, and as he stood up, he couldn’t help but wince in pain, slowly, he put his hand on his temples. Y/n called out to him, helping him to sit down again.

“I’m sorry, Sunghoon—wha—whatever happened, I’m very sorry, I didn’t mean it. Please, if you could ever give me time to make it up—please forgive me—”

“SHUT UP!” Y/n didn’t cry because he slapped her hands away, it was his unforgiving voice that startled at her. She could feel her throat clench.

Slowly and gently, she tried to catch Sunghoon’s hands. He didn’t resist nor slap her hands away this time, but Y/n could feel his hard fist.

_____

“Let’s go home.” Y/n followed quietly.

Park Sunghoon once complimented Lee Y/n’s cooking when they were still mare acquaintances. It was a normal Monday at work and Y/n always packed her lunch, and unexpectedly, Park Sunghoon came up to her to eat lunch together. Sunghoon liked the rice…the rice had nutmeg at that time.

Earlier at 8:21 at work, Sunghoon felt weird sensations in the pit of his stomach, while his surroundings danced around him. It wasn’t the first time it happened at work, and it wasn’t the first time that it happened anywhere. There are times when he constantly feels nauseous while having severe headaches, while everything around him seems to change shapes. He thought it was his overworking.

The last thing Sunghoon heard was ringing and Karin’s soft voice called over him and then he passed out. He woke up lying in the hospital bed with a doctor hovering over him. The doctor said that his constant nausea and hallucinations were the effect of digesting too much nutmeg, and the only one making his meal was his wife. It was always ordered food whenever he and Karin had meals.

Back at home, Y/n and Sunghoon sat still on the couch. Y/n’s looking at her trembling hands as Sunghoon stare at her with gritted teeth. Y/n whispered out trying to break the silence.

“You—You once told me you liked rice with nutmeg—” A loud bang cut through her words. Sunghoon smashed the wooden table separating them, as Y/n tried to cover her mouth, swallowing her cries.

“Y/n.” Sunghoon called out. But Y/n couldn’t look him in the eyes, her line of view could only register his clenching fist on the table through tear eyed sight.

“I’ve been feeling sick—I thought I was dying!” He raised his voice, she made a whimper.

“I’ve been blaming my work! And it’s all because you! You were trying to kill me—you tried to kill me, Y/n!” finally she looked him in the eye shaking her head.

“No—no, Sunghoon that’s not—” Y/n extended her arms to hold him by the table as she lifted herself up from sitting, but he raised his hand high above her, then she lay still on the floor, staring at the tiled ground with tears swelling her eyes. She couldn’t help it anymore, the whole apartment echoed her loud cries. Then, in a second the bedroom door slammed closed, and she was left alone with her silent whimpers.

She didn’t mean it, she only wants his approval, his acknowledgement; she only wanted Sunghoon to eat with her at dinner instead of spending all his night with Karin. She only wanted him to return and be the man she loved once.

Y/n wasn’t ignorant about the effect of too much nutmeg, that’s why she only added a little every meal. But when Sunghoon started to eat dinner with Karin and come back home late, and sometimes not returning home at all—Y/n took the opportunity to add a half tea spoon of nutmeg into his every breakfast. A part of Y/n knew that she added nutmeg with ill intent. While most part wants him to acknowledge and notice her. Then, it really was her fault…

After lunch earlier, when her phone rang with an unknown caller ID and told her the news of her husband passing out, she immediately put down Gauel and rushed to the hospital. When she arrived, the doctor only told her that he already woke up last hour, and eventually returned back to sleep. Then the doctor said nothing more.

When Sunghoon woke up and told her about the nutmeg, she was shaken, she thought she could kill herself for being the one who caused danger to her husband—now, she could only swallow her cries when he lifted his fist and broke from her touch. He hit her face strong enough to send her frozen on the floor.

Whenever Sunghoon is angry, often at her, Y/n slept at the spare room while Sunghoon locked himself alone in their bedroom. The first time they had a fight, Sunghoon told her that he wanted to be alone and slept at the spare room. But to Y/n’s conscience, she begged Sunghoon to sleep at their room instead since it’s much comfortable there than sleeping on the dusted bed at the spare room. Now, whenever Sunghoon’s mad at her, Sunghoon would locked himself alone in their room, with her no way of getting inside. She often felt like he already abandoned her, but he also needed a slave to take care of him, that’s why until now Sunghoon haven’t chased her out.

Like the usual, Y/n would get up at 5-6 am to prepare his meal, then see him off at the door. But today, after arranging his breakfast at the table, Sunghoon spared her no glance and went out without telling her a word. He doesn’t want to eat. He doesn’t trust her.

So Y/n sat down and ate his meal instead. Seconds passed and her head’s already flooded with thoughts. Minutes passed and her thoughts made her burst out crying.

Why did everything turned out to be like this? Why did he turned out to be like this? Is he still Sunghoon? The one she loved? Or was this someone else? It must have been his façade. He must’ve tricked her, and she fell in love with the idea of him without actually knowing him. It was all her fault was it? Should she die and end everything with her last breath? Or should he die and free herself?

Y/n spent her all morning thinking of ways to get rid of her pains, until Gauel barked at her to snap out of it. She saw Park Sunghoon in red just then. She slapped herself for the ridicule she’s been thinking and proceeded to do her chores.

Late that evening, she baked tiramisu—Sunghoon’s favorite—and cooked galbi jjim with other various dishes, also opened a bottle of soju, and message him at 6:03, apologizing and wishing him home, telling him she cooked his favorite and she didn’t add nutmeg in any of the dishes nor the rice.

8:37. Y/n had already set up the table and the dishes, and somewhere between 8-9, Sunghoon will be home. So she patiently readied herself sitting on the chair, checked her phone if he had already replied, but unfortunately, he left her on read. Well, at least he read. He knows she’s making all the efforts to apologize. Y/n let out a sigh and wished that he’d show up.

11:21. All the dishes had already run cold. Y/n was broken from her trance when Gauel approached her and barked. Her phone rang. it was Sunghoon’s caller ID.

“Oh!” It was a girl’s giggle with mumblings over the background.

“Uhm, who is this?”

“Y/n!” Y/n recognized the voice, it was her old coworker’s voice, before she resigned and married Sunghoon. It was Karin’s. Y/n couldn’t help but swallowed the lumps forming on her throat.

“Su—Sunghoon won’t be home for a while…” Karin’s voice was sloppy and uneven. She must be drunk.

“Why? Did something happen?”

“What? Of course not! Silly Y/n—” She hiccupped. “Just wanted to tell you Sunghoon’s unavailable to see you for dinner tonight.” Low grunts from the background made Y/n’s shoulder shiver.

“Why are you telling me this, where is he?” Y/n’s voice must’ve been shacking, she could feel her throat and chest throbbing.

“Hmm? What is it?” seconds of pause and Karin laughed on the other line.

“Sunghoon’s asleep honey! Bye~”

“wait! Kari—” Karin’s voice was replaced with ringing. Y/n slowly put the phone down, stood up and entered their bedroom, leaving the dishes cold on the table. Sunghoon’s probably drunk with Karin, doing who knows what…Y/n couldn’t take it anymore.

Sunghoon didn’t mean to not return home after three whole days…he just wanted a time alone and free himself from stress; it’s just that, Y/n has been giving her head ache for these past few days, and he wanted to clear his head, though Karin has been with him throughout those past three days.

Sunghoon slowly turned the knob. The whole apartment is pitch black, while there was an unpleasant smell lingers the air. Sunghoon ran and turned the lights open. There, at the table lays bowls, plates, and cups of rotten dishes. Sunghoon registered the decaying smell of gochujang and the smell close to a dead rat. In instinct he put his arms on his mouth and nose. What the hell is this? Where is Y/n?

Sunghoon wasted no more time and burst the bedroom door open and turned on the lights. No sign of his wife. He then strode to the bathroom door, pushed the curtains away, and no one’s there. He checked the spare room, checked the roof deck, checked the longue again, shuffled through Y/n’s dresser and closet. Her stuff is still there.

Y/n must’ve left since the night she last messaged him about the meal she made…she was apologizing to him, and he was with Karin. He remembered there were a time that night when Karin borrowed his phone and called someone. Was it Y/n? Sunghoon roughly shuffled his hair, scratched his palms, massaged his temples. Karin must’ve said something to Y/n. As far as he could remember, Karin drove him to the hotel he stayed at, then stopped in the middle of the road to borrow his phone, then when he’s inside the hotel room, he locked the door and said goodbyes to Karin. That’s all that happened that night…

Sunghoon grabbed his coat, turned off the lights and went outside. He needs to find Y/n. He must’ve been hard on her. Just what the hell did Park Sunghoon do?

Sunghoon felt the cold wind brush through his hair once he went down the apartment stairs, and now he stands alone in the roads. With his messy and scattered thoughts, the muffled screams of vehicle horns, yells of the drivers ahead of him, and the sound of his far distance apologies—he ran his eyes around him, he didn’t care if he’s in the middle of the road, but he’ll find his wife. He needed to find his wife.

To no avail, Park Sunghoon never had any trace of her. Slowly, with no energy left from his body, he opened the door and slam it close behind him. Something lunged at him...then burning and chocking—he could not breath. Sunghoon held the belt around his throat. With all his strength, he tried to lift up the person behind him as his sight blur while his breathing shortens, and a loud weight hitting the floor made his lungs finally grasps for air. Park Sunghoon stared at his wife slowly lifting herself up from the floor. Is he seeing this right? Y/n—Y/n…she—Y/n. His Y/n was trying to kill him…

Sunghoon couldn’t move on his feet. His eyes are wide open, his breathings are accelerating and accelerating until a quiet shriek left his mouth. His whole body was frozen when his wife lifted her head up to look at him. Tears flooded her eyes as she slowly stands up. Her whole body was shaking, and her loud cries filled Sunghoon’s hearing. Y/n lunge at him, running, tackling him down on the floor, Sunghoon held her wrist as she pushed her whole strength into the knife she’s holding. Sunghoon called out her name, but her cries only got louder and louder until his grip on her loosen. One, two, three...six—she stabbed and stab and stab. Sunghoon stared at his lovely wife. Her hair loose on their tight bun, he badly wants to hug her on her pink blooded apron she always wore whenever she cooks him meal. Slowly and gently, Park Sunghoon touched her wet cheeks. Little by little, her skin turned red as he kept on caressing her softly. Y/n screamed her pain and Sunghoon could only smile at her, because now he understands, he wasn’t able to be a good husband for her.

“I’m sorry,”

With the last of his strength, and the last burning of his breath, he held her hands tightly, and closed his eyes. Y/n lifted an axe.

The first time Park Sunghoon saw her was at Lee Heeseung’s 20th birthday, back in the times they were newly debut. She wore a ridiculous ankle pink boots and a twin messy braid. He remembered Heeseung and her argued about Heeseung not informing her that his friends will come, she should’ve wore something decent. But Park Sunghoon loved that outfit. That’s the outfit he always loved.

The taste of sweet, salty and savory erected at Y/n’s tongue. The sensation of chewy and juicy flooded her mouth, and when she swallowed, a great feeling of longing, sorrow and grief left her body weak. The body-less of Park Sunghoon’s head stare at Park Y/n as she opened her mouth, bringing a spoon full of his love for her to digest.

It was snowing hard outside when they first met at work. Y/n was newly hired as Sunghoon’s makeup artist. She remembered his soft smile that burned her cheeks, she remembered when Sunghoon first asked her out, she remembered when he first kissed her, she remembered his heat all over her—not like this, cold and still.

masterlist

Note: HI! all the infos about nutmeg is from google...so...pls don't attack me. Btw i'm sorry Sunghoon died. and i'm sorry i was dead for too long....so yeah...

[small-sinclair]

I has some prompts for you 😊

How about either 59. "Why are you crying? Aren't you happy to be with me?" With Vincent

Or

76: "Why weren't you there? You should have been there!" With Bo or Lester

Ooooo I like these :3 I'll do 76! Hope you like vampires...

Fear

Vampire!Bo x reader

Tw: Car crash, blood, yelling, fighting, somber ending?

You limped as you made your way from the car crash. How you lived through that was something short of a blip in the universe. It didn't feel like a blessing or a miracle. A deer jump in front of your car late in the storm, making you turn too hard to have your car flip. You remembered fire and kicking the glass out to get away. Now, you limped away in the night in the thunder storm, but you had somewhere you needed to be, someone was waiting for you to come back from your little trip.

Ambrose was just through the trees and on the other side of the washed out road. Bo always told you to be aware of the road and surrounding trees when it rains. It makes it hard for him to find you if you don't leave a track for him to follow. Louisiana had plenty of things: werewolves, ghosts, and vampires. Bo is one of the three along with his brothers. Well... not Lester. Lester didn't want to be a vampire like his brothers, but it wouldn't hurt to become one.

To be honest, he was closest to you than the town. It doesn't hurt to see if you could sleep there for the night, right?

Your shaking legs brought you in front of Lester's cabin by the road, and you went up the steps to knock. You didn't see his truck, so you thought he parked it in the garage, which sat in the dark on the right. Hopefully, he was home because you didn't know how much pain you could take. Your leg burned like hell and your shoulder hand glass shards sticking out of your skin.

Going up the steps felt like labor. Every step you took only made you want to throw-up, but you kept trucking on. You made it to the door and raised your shaking hand. At first, nothing. Then you tried again and again, but your hand was losing strength. Your knees buckled and you slid next to the door, leaning against it for warmth. The storm brought noting but cold winds and wisps of what would bring. You brought your legs to your chest and closed your eyes...

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

"What are you doing?" Bo asked you in the kitchen.

You looked back at him and smiled. "I found a good recipe! Cherry pie with little vanilla stems." You tuned back to the cherries in your mixing bowl. You felt him come behind you, his boots heavy as he walked, the smell of oil and smoke coming off his shirt. His arms wrap around your waist with his head on your shoulder. His eyes lingered over the note card as you mixed the cherries with crushed vanilla stems. "Vincent gave me a small bag of blood, too! So you can eat it." You looked at him and kissed his cheek. "Making two: one for me and Les, one for you and Vincent."

"Bless 'at bleedin' heart of yours," he hummed, nuzzling into your neck. You felt his fangs ghost over a soft spot before he planted a kiss, causing you to shiver. "Reckon 'at's the nicest thin' someone's done fer me and my brother." You giggled as he placed little kisses down your shoulder. "Best be setting the table, huh?"

"Gotta wash up, too, fruit bat," you teased. I know you didn't wash up after work." Then you shook your head. "And I know you didn't just walk over the clean floor with your boots. Because if I turn around and see a trail of mud, Bo Sinclair, you're going to wake up with a stake down your throat."

He laughed, rolling his eyes. "Do ya promise, sweetheart?"

You swat at his chest as he left kisses over your cheeks. "Wash up and get your brothers."

"Alright, sugar cube." He hugged your waist and kissed your lips quickly. "Be back in five." Bo flashed you a smile and left the room, heading to get his brothers to bring them back for dinner.

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

By the time Lester came back from the town over, your lips were turning blue. He dropped the blood bags, splattering them over his pants as he raced towards you. He knew you were driving home tonight from work, but you told them not to worry about driving home in the rain. You promised you'll be safe.

He was careful when he scooped you up and brought you inside. He was panicking when you started shivering. When your hand grasps his, his heart broke. he took you to the tub, helped you undressed, and carefully placed you in the warm water. Once you were in, he pulled out his phone and dialed his brother.

It ranged and ranged and ranged then--

"'S Bo."

"Bo, hey, um..." Lester looked over his shoulder then back at the rain outside. The darkness seemed to have eyes, but he knew better. He knew it didn't have it. "Come to my house," he swallowed hard and closed his eyes. "It's y/n. They're hurt--"

The phone call ended without Bo saying another word. He stood in his house and waited for the worst. He didn't need to get blood bags for his brothers tonight, but he was near the blood bank and the backdoor was open... what did he do? What has he done to you? Bo's beloved is cold and...

Bo didn't even knock when he entered the cabin. He kicked it in and looked wildly around the room until he say Lester. His once blue ocean eyes turned to a blood red, and his body stronger and stiffer. He looked at Lester then down at his pants. He took in a deep breath through the nose then eyed him.

"What did you do?"

"I didn't--"

In a blink, Lester was thrown across the room, his back going through his bedroom wall. Bo was on top of him as he pinned him to the floor, fangs noticeable. "T'hell did ya do, Lester?" Bo hissed through grit teeth. "What did ya do?" His grip around his brother was deadly, and Lester felt like he was one of Bo's victims.

"Bo, git off!" Lester was afraid. He hasn't seen his brother like this in a long time. No matter how mad he made Bo, he's never used his full strength to scare him, to threaten him. He hasn't seen him like this before and it scared him. "Y/n is in the tub!"

Bo pushed down on his brother violently, breaking his shoulder. Lester cried out in pain as he rolled on to his side. He held his shoulder as he cried on the wooden floor.

Bo hurried to the bathroom and almost threw-up. Your shoulder was badly bruised as dry blood stuck to your skin. The glass shimmered on the title floor next to your wet and dirtied clothes. Some color as returned to you, but it wasn't enough to make you look alive. You were weak and tire, and Bo couldn't do anything to make it better.

He knelt next to you on the side of the tub and pushed your hair away. He leaned into his touch as your glazed eyes met his. You forced a grin but it fell as your eyes rolled back. Bo felt your pain, your heartbeat, your blood rushing time and time over. The more he looked over your bruised body, the angrier he got. He leaned down and kissed the crown of your head.

"Be righ' back, honey," he whispered. "Promise."

He stood from the tub and turned to find Lester holding his broken arm, tears falling. He didn't feel anything for Lester as he stepped out of the bathroom, making Lester coward away.

"What happened?"

Lester swallowed hard. "Was in town an'--"

"And what?" Bo spat, his red eyes burning in flames. "What were ya doin'?" He looked at Lester's pants. "'At's not their blood." His eyes snapped at Lester's. "I tol' ya we didn' need more blood! What's th' matter wit' ya?!"

"I-I thought you an' Vince needed more!" Lester said, his voice shaking. "So I's went an-an got more. Just two bags!"

"Yeah," Bo scoffed. Thunder rumbled outside the house. "And what happened? Came home an' then?"

Lester's heart was beating in his throat like a hammer to a nail. "I found 'em at t'door! They-they must've been 'ere for a while!" Then his voice went low. "Maybe two hours."

"Why weren't you there?" Bo's hands grabbed his shoulders roughly before pushing his younger brother back. "You should have been there! Ya didn't need t'get us anythin'!"

Lest stumbled back, but he regained himself. "I was only tryin' t'help!"

"Yeah, I c'n tell!"

Lester opened his mouth to respond, to defend himself, but he was met with a hard punch to the gut. Lester lurched forward as he felt to his knees, holding his stomach, gasping for air. He looked up at his brother to find some type of forgiveness, but he was met with a hard slap across the face strong enough to make his head hit the floor. He let out a yelp a she tried to scramble away from his older brother, but Bo's hand caught his ankle and pulled him back. He towered over his little brother as he whimpered to himself, chocking back tears.

"'M sorry, Bo! 'M sorry!"

"Tol' ya we didn' need it!" Bo forced him to looked up. "Why don' ya listen? Huh?" Lester let out a sob, and that made Bo angrier. "Wha'? Ya lookin' fer a death wish? Tol' ya if anythin' happened to y/n on y'er watch or Vincent's, 'll kill ya where ya stand! Didn't I say 'at?"

Lester let out another sob. "I-I'm sorry! I-I jus' wanted ta help!" He struggled against his brother's grasp, trying to push back. He didn't like this Bo. He didn't like his brother like this. Brothers fight, but this? This wasn't his brother! It wasn't him! "Bo, 'm sorry! I-I should've been home! I'll do betta! I swear! I-I'll do betta!" His words strung out in sobs and deep breaths. Bo promised never to be like this towards him. He promised! "Bo! Please!"

Bo took in the sight of his brother under him. He felt powerful, strong, better than his brother! But the high left once he realized who he was talking to. His baby brother looked up at him as if he was monster, the same gaze his victims had before Bo took their lives. The same gaze you had when he first tried to kill you. Bo looked behind him at the bathroom as he looked back down at Lester. The blood that fell from his brother's nose made him sick. He did this. He made his brother bleed and scared.

Bo pulled away from his little brother and stood, hands shaking. He need to kill, fight, hunt, but he needed to make sure you were okay. He looked back at his brother then pain circled his body. His little brother was curled into a ball as he coward away from his older brother, sobbing into the floor, as he apologized over and over until his body shook violently in panic and fear.

Bo enjoyed the smell of fear, but he didn't like it coming from Lester. He didn't like it one bit, but what was he to do? He can't take back what he did! He's too hurt to be held in his arms!

The thunder faded as it rained lightly on the tin roof when Bo turned and left his brother there on the floor to find you again. He knelt next to you and gently washed your shoulder with soap. Your eyes fluttered open to meet his blue eyes.

"What happened?" He asked lowly.

"Car crash."

"Made it here?"

"Yeah, but Les wasn't home."

He swallowed hard. "Yeah..." He closed his eyes and kissed your head. "Yer safe now."

Your eyes lingered over him then past his shoulder. "Where's Les? Is he okay?"

The lies he tells you, y/n, was enough to flood the Nile.

"He's okay," he whispered. "Just restin'."

"Okay," you said, believing him. You leaned your head against his shoulder. "Can you carry me home, Bo? My leg's busted good."

He swallowed hard. "Yeah, I reckon I c'n. Le'me finish washin' y'er arms then we c'n go." Then he thought to himself and nodded at it. "We c'n take Les home, too. Don't want him t'be alone."

He'll never be forgiven; that's what Bo wants from Lester. Don't forgive the monster that he is, the monster his mother made him and Vincent to be.

His finished washing you up and helped you getting dress. He gave you his shirt instead of your wet shirt. He kissed your hurt shoulder then your lips. Bo led you to the living room, and you noticed the broken down door. What in the world did Bo do?

He left for a moment and went to his brother, finding him passed out on the floor from pain. Bo searched his pants and found the truck keys. Carefully, he threw his brother over his shoulder and found you again. With his other arm, he helped you out of the house, holding you up as you walked to Lester's truck.

[junepingu]

Bob x traumatised reader

Warning:

this fic contains angst, sa, slur, traumatic event

It was a Friday, the last day of the week for your job, and you were ready tò pack your things and finally go home to relax a bit.

You were finishing serving the last two costumers wich asked you a 'take away' so you wrote the menu down and brought It to bob to prepare It, he did a fast and wonderful job because the smell that could be tasted from the kitchen made everyone go crazy, the last customers after receiving the bag thank you with a delighted face and go away. The bells went on 7 pm and It was finally time to leave so you went on the back and change your red apron tò your normal sweater and put your shoes back on, you were turning around when a hand made you Jump.

"Woahh!..what.. oh hi sir didn't hear you there" you Say with a now embarassed face, he then stood back and giggle for your reaction

"oh im sorry darlin' didn't want tò scare ya, i wantd' to ask you a littl' favor, if by chance you could stay until the restaurant closes because I have to leave early" he said with a good smile.

"why"

Your Mood suddenly change from Happy tò Annoyed, you didn't want tò stay here because you were tired too, you didn't noticed but the answer you give sounded really pissed.

He read your face like an open book and bite back with a stronger smile and his hand on your shoulder now was much more firm

"i'm asking a littl' favor, Is there a problem?" He said

And suddenly from his change of tone i regain my mind back, i know that Im tired, i passed all day standing and serving more costumers than everyday and im Always the one to leave After everyone, but yeah After all Is my boss he never asked me anything so I have tò do my job

"y-yeah im Sorry sir you're right, i Will close the restaurant you can leave now, i Will take care of It don't worry!" I said with a smile, looked like i have a swinging Mood by chance. Anyway he then leaves you with a big smile and disappeared so you roll up your sleeves and start cleaning the dirty tables first.

____________________________________

The time passed and you were cleaning the kitchen, all kinds of oil and Meat fat was a little hard to get rid of but it wasn't a problem for you, Until you noticed a strange blood stain near the light switch, the only thing that could come to mind was that Bob hadn't cleaned his hands properly, so you cleaned it without any worries.

After the kitchen you controlled the freezer, the The warehouse and garbage dump, it was completely dark outside, it was almost scary to be there for more than 5 seconds.

Crack

You turned around quickly as you Heard a strange noise...

"who's there!?"

Nobody answered

You run away inside as you feel really strange, as you were turned tò run away you could hear in the distance fast steps that were coming in your direction, so you panicked and run inside as fast as you could locked the door and faint on the floor.

*pant* *pant* *sigh* "....wh-...oh my..."

You sit there for some time as you wanted tò realize if was a joke or really someone...

Crash

you couldn't even think without being imobilized by the fear, you heard a glass shattered from the front hall, you didn't Remember tò close the front Door like an idiot, you try to gran something tò Defend yourself, a butcher knife, the favorite of bob.

Someone was here i could here his steps, you put One hand on the mouth so you wouldn't be noticed by heavy breath...why you didn't refuse tò go stay here and go home at the warm comfort of your bed, why!

Wait you have an idea, obviusly you didn't want tò face the thief but instead you could Just press the botton tò call the Police,yeah make sense...but It was Under the cash register... Need tò be really chill and silent...

I crouch down and slowly walk behind the register, as I try to get closer I also take a look to understand who this thief was, but I don't see anyone, his footsteps have stopped, i turned around quickly because....yeah cliché...but luckly there was no One so I thought that maybe he went away, but before talking tò myself I click the police's Botton and sit there silently, you grabbed so hard the knife that the hand went White.

After a Little i could hear some whispering as i Heard them from the kitchen...wait ...how did he manager tò get tò the kitchen if i was here..? Oh God ...the back Door!...i think he just wanted to scare First and then Attack i think, i have tò get out of here...

Silently still crowl on the floor to manage tò keep silent, i then realized that After the casher register i would be visibile so I Need tò run ...I hold the knife tightly with my whole body and count in my head...

1..

2...

3- "AAAAHHHHH!"

i feel a hand grab my foot as the thief drags me all the way down the hall to the kitchen, slams me to the floor and kicks the knife away from me.

"BITCH YOU CALLED THE COPS ON ME! YOU REALLY ARE A BURDEN!!"

i couldn't believe It as i try tò get away he Just Jump on me and pinned me down the floor "get off me!! Oh- GET OFF YOU PSYCHO!"

"oh im really hurt!...NOW GIVE ME THE MONEY! OR ELSE!" he wanted the money, they were in the registrer why didn't he took It before...why

"t-they are in the casher r-egister" i didn't want tò be killed and neither harmed so I Just told him, i know that the cops would be here in time...i noticed that he Just grabed the knife that he throw away from me so now i was more scared than before...my mouth was dry as my soul in that Moment, as i try again to escape he Just punched me in the stomach and cut the floor next tò my head "!!.." i Jump as he laugh a bit

"ohhh look at your pain, so cute! But you know i think the Money can wait right?" When the knife touches my ear and I start to shake and some tears are forming in my eyes, and I feel him laughing and looking at me in a intense way and disturbing, he didn't want the Money....

"w-hat...h..wait!" My voice was trembling and I didn't realized until he was Ripping my clothes off like an animal, he used the knife to cut my chest to open my shirt and pants "WAIT PLEASE! FUCK WAIT! NO NO NONONO!" i screamed as much as i wanted but nobody could hear me unless him, his face turned in a demonic smile as he wanted tò taste what i was...he then put the knife on my troath

"BITCH! IF YOU DARE EVEN TO MAKE ANOTHER SOUND! SHUT IT AND TAKE IT" my tears started tò fall down my cheeks as i tried to move him away but nothing was usefull he was bigger than me.

I started to feel him positioning himself as i was trying so hard tò move my hands

"STOP MOVE IT, I DIDN'T KNOW YOU WERE SOO DISAPPOINTING OFF WORK COME ON!" what did he Say?....

Off work...he ...knew me? Or saw me before?...i was even more Terrified that this monster had been stalking me since the beginning.

NO PLEASE OH GOD PLEASE STOP!

i Just wanted tò go home , I JUST WANTED TO GO HOME!! IT'S NOT MY FAULT PLEASE! I DONT WANT THIS! NOOO-

BAM

I feelt cold down my body and my face...in an instante...and I think i Heard....a shot

I opened my eyes tò look and I saw his body on mine, now dead weight on me, Blood was falling down his temple as i move out his grip.

"EHY ARE YOU OKEY? We are here dear we are here now don't worry!" I looked up and saw two Police officer

"are you alright? Did he hurt you? Please Say something"

I couldn't speak but, i moved my head with a "no", a sound of reliefe in the two officer's face "okey... can you stand up?" One of them asked, i tried but I was too weak tò move or even think

"ehy ehy don't rush It's okey it's totally fine now, come on..."

____________________________________

I was trying tò process what was happening as i was sitting on The policeman's seat, one , with mustache, went inside the restaurant to see if there was anyone else or if something else had happened, and the other taller policeman stayed with me and gave me some water

"Is ...everything alright?..do you Need something else?" He asked, as i was staring at nothing i then looked at him and ...started tò cry, my body was trembling as i was feeling so mixed emotions

"ehy ehy ehy now dear...it's...it's alright okey? Now you're safe"

I didn't stop, as he hugged me tight and stood there until i calmed down.

After some minutes the others officer came out and warn that nobody else was in there...then the mustache officer have a sign tò the tall one tò talk in private, so the tall one have me a tight shrug as he move calmly away from me, i calmed down as i started tò feel tired, After some time of them talking in private they then gave me and hand to bring all my things back and drive me home.

____________________________________

"ehy uhm i think we Will stay outside here so If anything happen you know" the mustache one said as i was now inside my house near the front Door

"thank you all so much but I think i don't want tò be anno-"

The taller One stopped me before i could finish my sentence "we insist,please you Need...you know tò rest so don't worry we will stay here until tomorrow...okey .." "goodnight then"

They then left and went inside the car preparing for the night, so you smile warmly at them and closed the door...lock It and went tò your bedroom, After one second of you inside you Just jump inside the shower and try tò forget what you just faced, but the feeling of his hands are still printed in your skin...his face? Did you know him? Did you ever saw him or serve him at the restaurant? Oh my God what do you do now? You couldn't go back like nothing happen!

But can't leave the job too, i don't know what tò do, what bob Will think about me?

I didn't close the front Door it's my fault! It's Just my fault!...

"AAGHH! FUCK YOU!"

You Scream to yourself...

After the bath you put on your pijama and Just fell on the bed, the warm sheets weren't making any effort tò help i was just staring at the ceiling, slowly but very slowly moving my body, not wanting to create a new Memory.

I started tò feel tired more and more as the time passed, at least 30 minutes staring at the ceiling, but those flashback were stronge, the feeling Is so...

I fell asleep..

____________________________________

"WHAT! WHY DIDN'T YOU TOL' ME, YOU- *sighhh* okey alrigh' , now wer' she is? Is she alrigh' ?...okey" the call ended.

Surpassing each car he had in front of him, he tried so hard to be fast enough, he hoped you were okey, at least ...safe now.

He arrived in front of your house, even if there were the cops car he was more smooth than a mouse, knocked hard on the door...

"c'mon c'mon y/n please.."

"mmmhhhgg.." you grunt as you heard the door, you didn't want to move you Just wanted to be left alone, you tried to stay in bed as your eyes were heavy as the darkness that It echoed in your mind.

You stayed in bed.

"oh damn horse bag ol!!'", his accent was getting stronger as his anxiety was rising, even though it was daytime and he knew he shouldn't draw attention to himself he ran to the back and started climbing in your window (like his Habit).

You were falling asleep again as you jump from the random noise outside the window, you were scared again as panick find your face as you started to move away on the bed while trying to escape from the "intruder".

You're facing the door trying tò open It as you didn't remember that last night tò prevent "anything" you lock it, but in this moment you weren't able tò think straight

"please please open! You Need tò open up please!"

Bob entered your room as he saw you panicking in front of the door .

You could only hear his big and heavy footsteps.

"NO PLEASE NO LEAVE ME ALONE PLEASE!! NOOOAAHHH-"

you screamed and crowl on the ground tò protect yourself, bob was shocked by your reaction.

"WO WO! Ehy y/n calm down! Ehy it's me Bob ehy ehy"

He tried to tò touch your shoulder but you started tò punch the air and tried to crowl away.

"STOP IT STOP GO AWAY!" your voice cracked as years started tò fall on your cheeks again, as the room turned black and only flashbacks of the night before started tò stream in your eyes.

The only thing that bob do was grab you tight and hug you trying tò comfort the only way he could.

"calm down, calm down im here im here with you darlin', it's me Bob, please look at me"

You couldn't understand your mind was in a dark fog...but, hearing a similar voice was...helping, Who It Is? Who It was? Your tears were calming down as your moviments, he never leave you, he was hugging you more and more making silent noise tò make you calm down.

"shhh darlin' it's okey....it's over now, in here, im...im Sorry If i left you there alone i shouldn't ...God , you're okey now"

He wanted to go back in time to Save yourself this mess, so he could have settled the matter with that scoundrel, unfortunately he was dead but if there is still one alice he was sure as hell tò Hunt them down until he devour everyone of them....the never even had tò think about breath the same air as you...

He would shread theyre skin with his teeth.

Boiling they're insides tò make them suffer eternaly withouth even knowing who Is the Carnage....chatting theyre limbs tò make them no way tò run...

Eating theyre life hearing them Scream as the Blood run on the groun-

"...bob...?"

He returned to reality, clean his drool from the mouth and looked at you leaning in his arms,he gen realized that you calm down and started tò smile softly

"yeah darlin'...It's me...you're fine now"

He caressed your cheeks and run his thumb were your tears fell trying tò rassure you that now he's here, he's real, Is not in your mind

"...i'm Sorry...." You whispered

"darlin'...you don't need to...it's...It was all ma' fault, It was only ma' dam' fault! You shouldn' have stayed there, im so sorry"

"...no bob it's not youre fault..you had things to do.. i always go home too soon and you never told me anything...about my actions, It was right like that...but ...i can't ....i was lucky there were the cops that helped me soon enough to not...tò not make him do anything but...." Youre breath was starting tò grow heavy and your heart started tò race faster

Bob could feel your panic and started tò caress your face and arm, as he was still crouch down with you

"shhh don' say anything now just relax, i know It still hurt but now you're safe.."

He calmed you down as your grabbed him with a stronger and firm grip on his shoulder, you wanted him near, warm embrace that can provide protection and That can surround you trying to make you feel as close as possible, you felt much better but there was always a little bit of discomfort in the back of your mind that wouldn't go away.

____________________________________

The sun Shine through your window as you woke up from a really long sleep, It was a really cold day today but you could still feel the sun kissing your skin, bob was preparing you breakfast, you needed to eat something, after he finished he brought you a Little table with on It and Orange juice for vitamines, a glass of water and a (favourite food) youre favourite.

You Heard his heavy footsteps on your room's door so you change your position and look on his way, the First things you can noticed is his big frame, big old warm smile that can make you feel Butterflyes in an instant, his big hands that were carring the little table with all the supplements for your breakfast.

"goodmornin' darlin'...how ar ya? Feel a littl' better? I brought you these...hope you will find the Hunger" he was so sweet for you.

"bob ...you're still here? And the restaurant?" You asked him worried but in your tone there was a Little of discomfort.

"ehy now don' think about that okey? It's totally fine i promise, but I don' care about that, i really don't....you are my priority ... So i Will stay as long as you feel better"

You were feeling bad for him because he was just changing everything Just for you... "I'm so sorr-" he stopped you as he kissed your head, he didn't want tò push your limits.

"darlin'...please let me" he just smiled at you with his warmly smirk as you giggle a Little, he light up a bit as he Heard your laugh, he was really Happy tò see you finally smiling.

He took one piece of the (f/f) and near his hand in your mouth, you took It as you munch, you felt good, the food tasted good as you were starting tò feel better but still tired, he gave you the Orange and you drink from It.

The day was long but, you know that you Will feel better, you Just have bob now, everything Is Just right, as you finished your breakfast he then kissed your hand, that made you blush a Little as he went tò clean the dishes, you layed down as you waited for him....

The days passed and you are living with what happened, but sooner or later you would have had to go back to work.

"no you can't come back i Will get a new employer but you can-"

"bob please i need tò return because i have to work!"

"no way y/n! Alrigh'? You experienced something that Is not normal and I couldn't help, i don' want t-"

"BOB LISTEN!...i am the First tò Say that, THAT was something horrofic but I can't stay home all day and I Need tò help you, you can still get a new employer but I WANT tò help you with the job so no worryes for me...okey?"

"...ugh... you're lucky i love you..." He giggle as you did, you kissed his cheeks as he tried to grab your waist but you move away so he retired his hand and excuse his sudden moviments.

You hugged him tight tò make him understand It was totally alright.

[your-highnessmarvel]

From Bleak to Bright - Part Eleven

All other parts on on my masterlist, link provided below.

AN: soooo um i think this may be a little tension relieving ;;;;)))

Warnings: angst, language, SMUT (18+ ONLY)

MASTERLIST - SERIES MASTERLIST

PART ELEVEN

** Two years later, Manhattan, New York **

You scrolled down on your phone, pretending to actually be doing something, while you waited for Natasha. A group of teenagers had come into the cafe, loud, laughing, challenging each other to some stupid fight. You rolled your eyes, chewing on some gum, making sure they kept their distance with you. Who knew what those kids had touched. Ew.

Nat texted you that she was around the corner, and to keep from staying a second longer with the obnoxiously loud teens, you all but ran out the cafe. You marched down the street, spring air brushing through your hair. There was a smell between a wood fire and flowers that drafted from God knows where. The sun was high up, the afternoon in Manhattan hot. Many people walked by wearing shorts or tank tops. Summer was approaching. It brought a smile to your face.

But that smile soon faded as you walked by the newspaper outlet and caught sight of the title. 

TWO YEARS SINCE NEW YORK ATTACK

You gulped, biting on the inside of your cheek. It had already been two years since the last time you’d spoken to him? It seemed like way longer. It seemed as if you’d walked into a parallel universe. No one ever talked about him, least of all your friends and family. Least of all you. 

You shook your head, brushing away the thoughts that brought you back to all those years ago. You shook away an image of a loft, of a coffee table full of leather-bound books, of hands on your body.

“Hey!”

You looked up, Natasha standing before you in a trendy outfit that made her look like a runway model. She had huge sunglasses perched on her nose, pink bubblegum in her mouth. 

“Ready?” she asked. 

“Yeah!” you answered, trying to hide the newspapers with your body, but you saw how her chin dipped when you walked by. She would surely see the titles and tell your brother. Dammit. You’d been doing so well.

Technically, you’d been doing fine. 

Ever since the Avengers had defeated Loki and Thor had brought him back to Asgard, you’d never seen or heard of him. You’d gone to a few rounds of therapy, mostly with psychologists who dealt in soulmates, and after a few months of isolation, Bruce had let you go. It had been a relief to have your phone back, your liberties, your God damn car. 

When you’d gotten the keys to your apartment back, it had felt final. But as the last people invited to your “homecoming” celebration had dwindled out, you’d found yourself in a pit. 

Everything was muted. Yes, you still saw colors, but without the person behind those colors, you just drifted. Yes, you were happy, somewhat, but whenever you saw couples together, something in your chest burned, like a slow leaking flame. You’d never be like them. Even though you’d heard stories about people marrying someone who wasn’t their soulmate, the simple thought of having another man - except Loki - in your life sent shivers down your spine. 

“I heard they got free donuts,” Nat said, bending her head close to yours. You giggled, but there was no heart it in.

She was bringing you to a stupid singles night out. Even though she briefly skirted on the fact that you’d already found your soulmate, she said it was an opportunity “to get out there”.

Hell, maybe it would make you forget Loki, although you highly doubted.

The night went on in a sort of downward spiral. It started off really fast and funny, with music and drinks, and a lot of men fighting to come to talk to you and the hot redhead. But with every passing guy, the more they didn’t look like him, the more they said things that set your teeth on edge, the duller you felt. 

Like being emptied slowly, hand by hand, touch by touch. 

By the time Nat brought you back to your apartment, you could barely manage a smile.

You tried, once again, fixing your stupid leaking tap but decided against it and went straight to bed. Because of that stupid newspaper, you had nightmares, plagued by a dark-haired prince wearing green and gold armor. 

In the morning, you ignored the tap and went to work. When you came back, the tap wasn’t leaking and you thanked your lucky guardian because if you had to hear one more drop, you’d lose it. 

The next night, coming home after drinks with your brother, the windowpane was fixed.

You knew something was wrong when your squeaking front door slid on perfectly oiled hinges. 

Someone had been in your apartment. Multiple times. 

Stepping in your apartment that night, eight nights after the tap was “fixed”, you looked around in the darkness. The shadows seemed denser, more menacing, as if they hadn’t been standing there every night, ever. 

You looked at your tiny kitchen. Nothing seemed amiss. You checked the lock, but it locked on its own with no problem. Even better than before.

You couldn’t actually complain about your little home invader because they had fixed all the problems that were slowly driving you to the brink. But you hadn’t said a word to anybody, not even Bruce, because deep down, you knew who’d be waiting for you one night, eventually. 

The bathroom light had been changed. It used to flicker all the time, giving you the creeps while you took a shower. But now it opened wildly bright and stayed there. 

There. That was the daily change. 

You changed in the bathroom, taking a hot, quick shower, keeping the door firmly locked. You felt watched as you padded across your apartment in your jammy shorts and tank top, your hair a wet rope down your back. 

The cabinet where you kept your mugs had a faulty knob that had cut you on more than one occasion. It was polished now. 

Hands trembling, you pivoted in your kitchen, fingers white-knuckling the countertop. 

“I know it’s you,” you murmured, feeling your heart throbbing in your throat. The shadows seemed to listen. “I know what you’ve been doing.”

You apartment seemed to breathe, swallowing your words, digesting them. But nothing came back to you. You kept expecting the shadows to linger, to move, to break away, but everything remained still, quiet.

Your heart plummeted. 

You went to bed looking out the window, noticing just how clean it was for an apartment in downtown Manhattan. 

You had dreams of him, vivid dreams. You swore you could feel fingers on your cheek the next morning. 

It’s when you walked in to the scent of flowers and found a bouquet of your favorite in the kitchen that you truly lost it. It took everything in you not to pick it up and smash the glass vase against the wall. There was no note, but just the fact that now, he wasn’t being so subtle about him breaking and entering, made your heart bash wildly against your ribs. 

But you knew what he was doing. He was trying to get to you without the others knowing. He’d surely scourged the place for microphones or cameras, just like you’d done two years ago, and found none. He knew the Avengers, or anybody watching, wouldn’t know he’d been here. And just the fact that you’d told no one about the mysterious repairs in your flat meant everything for him.

You turned, flowers at your back. The shadows seemed to be smiling. They knew he was here. 

You were older now, wiser. You knew how to play his little games.

“I’m not afraid,” you said to the dark. The curtains had been drawn in the living room, you noticed, as you made your way there. He’d wanted this to be done in private. 

“I know you’re here,” you continued, inching to the windows, intent on pulling them back to shed some moonlight in your apartment. “You can... you can talk to me,” you whispered, heart heavy and harsh in your ribs. Your hands had begun to shake the closer you got to the curtains. 

When you wrenched them open, exposing the city beneath you, you could barely take your eyes off the horizon.

Because you saw it.

The flicker.

His face there and then not, your heart wrenching in your chest, causing an audible gasp from your lips to echo in the room.

You felt the heat of him at your back. “I thought you were unafraid?” he asked, his voice rumbling, something vicious seizing your insides with a hot grip. 

Something akin to a puzzle piece clicked back into place at the sound of his voice. You could breathe lighter now, see colors more vividly, hear the world around you clearly. All this time, you’d suffocated, been drowning, and now you weren’t.

“I’m not,” you answered, but neither you nor he missed the way your voice trembled.

You felt the warmth of his hand on your hip, saw the reflection of him flicker in the window as he leaned closer, his lips brushing the space beneath your ear. Fire lit everywhere on your flesh as he brought himself flush with you. 

He inhaled. “I’ve missed you,” he mumbled against your skin, the sound of it vibrating in your bones. 

“Where...” you licked your lips and restarted. “Where have you been?”

His other hand braced just under your throat, long fingers seeping warmth through the fabric of your t-shirt. 

“Away,” he mumbled. He slid his hand from your hip to the sliver of skin under the hem of your t-shirt and you hummed involuntarily. His touch was like no other’s. “You’re so soft,” he mumbled. 

You tried not to forget that he’d left you there on the floor two years ago, but the way his body fit against yours made any logical thought seep from your brain.

“I’ve dreamt of you for so long,” he drawled, making it seem as if you’d been separated for an eternity. “I’ve dreamt of your eyes. Your voice. The way your body fits right onto mine.” He shifted slightly, pressing you harshly against him. “I’ve not the heart to take another woman to bed. I want it to be you.”

His words sent a strange heat dripping down into your belly, heavy and wanting. Your mouth parted, and the hand Loki had against your chest slipped up until his thumb pressed against your mouth. “How sweet of you,” you said against his thumb. 

He chuckled lowly. “I can show you sweet,” he said.

“I rather you practice restraint,” you mumbled, even though deep down, you meant none of it.

He chuckled again, shaking his head, lowering his hand back so it lay lightly around your throat. Then his chuckle turned into a groan, his force deepening. “Y/n,” but now his voice was pleading, like a man who’d been deprived of everything. “Please. I’ve thought of you all this time. Don’t push me away. Not you.”

The last part made you frown, but you nonetheless pushed from him, turning to face him. He had deep, dark circles under his eyes, his face ashen as if he hadn’t slept in a millennia. His hair was slightly longer, curling along his jaw, hiding his ears. He wore a white t-shirt and black slacks, but he was cold as you pressed your fingers against his shoulders. 

“Okay,” you whispered. You tried not to maintain eye contact because the haunted look in his green eyes made you sick. 

He bent forward slightly, grasping your face between his huge, warm hands. The first brush of his lips was soft, sending butterflies scuttling across your belly. But then he gripped your face, bringing you to him, and kissed you like he was a starving man and you were his reprieve. 

A strangled moan left his throat, his lips molding to yours, driving you backwards until your spine hit the window. One hand went to the glass to soften your fall, but he didn’t let up his rhythm. You could barely keep up anyway.

He kept kissing you so harshly, delving his tongue between your teeth, angling your head back to kiss you deeply, that every rational thought in you just went to dust. 

You gripped his back, marveling at the strong muscle, bringing him flush against you. One hand went to his hair, knotting in the raven locks, tugging until you swore you’d hurt him. But he kept kissing you, hands venturing to your hips, sliding over your ass, gripping your thighs and hauling you up. 

On instinct, you wrapped your legs around his waist, feeling his arousal just where you wanted him, and he spun you away from the window. How he moved with such eloquence as he devoured your mouth befuddled you, but when your ass found the countertop and Loki pressed himself between your legs, your brain fizzled. A whole jar of butterflies now flew in your belly. 

He broke from the kiss momentarily to grasp your breasts, kneading them in his hands, marveling at the sight. 

“Restraint, Loki,” you mumbled breathlessly, lips swollen. 

One of his brows furrowed, but he went right back to kiss you, holding your tits in his hands, then moving to grip your thighs with such strength it should have hurt. 

“I can’t stop,” he breathed between kisses, holding the back of your head. “I want you. I want you so fucking bad.”

You squeezed your eyes shut harshly, ignoring the red alarms in your head. Because it was him. Because it was him, always him, and now that he was here, touching you almost everywhere, his scent invading your senses, you never wanted him to go. 

He pulled your head back and kissed down your neck, over the swell of your breast, taking one nipple lightly between his teeth. A gurgled moan left your throat, Loki holding your head back, exposing everything to him. 

“No bra?” he grumbled against your skin, his tongue soothing the ache on your nipple. 

You just breathed in response, your legs clenching against his arms. 

He chuckled against your body. His left hand, the free one, slid down the length of your chest until he took one finger to lightly circle you through your pants. 

You gasped, jolting in his grasp, his mouth possessively clamping shut on your nipple. 

“Eager,” he hummed. He was so warm, smelled so fucking good, that the second time he applied pressure and circled his fingers, you all but moaned for everyone to hear. He teased you some more, licking and pleasing you all through your clothing.

Then his mouth left your hardened nipple and traveled up to your ear, where the warmth of his breath made you shiver. “If I can do this to you,” he whispered, circling your core through your pants. “Imagine how it’ll feel when I fuck you.”

His words made you want to clench your thighs together, to keep the heat and pressure there, but his body was still between your legs. He chuckled, biting your neck, hard, knowing it would leave a mark. He yanked your head forward until your eyes met his.

“I can feel just how much you want me,” he mumbled, hiding his face in the crook of your neck, inhaling. “I can smell it.”

You rocked once against his hand, eliciting a groan from him as your thigh briefly brushed him through his pants. He was hard. Wanting. The hand behind your hand squeezed until it hurt, but when he soothed his tongue against your neck, circling your clit, you lost yourself in him again. 

“Y/N,” he murmured, chanting your name like a prayer. You were almost there and you couldn’t believe it. You rocked against his hand, biting your lip, and when he saw that, he brought your mouth into a breathtaking kiss. “Cum against me,” he said through each kiss. “Cum.” It was a command. 

You squeezed your eyes, grinding against his circling hand, and when he licked your neck, you all but came apart with a moan. Loki quickly kissed you, swallowing your sounds of pleasure as he slowly, leisurely circled you through your pants. Your legs shaking, you trembled against him until his fingers stopped and he brought his forehead to yours. 

“Run away with me,” he whispered. “Let me ravage you every night, y/n, please.”

Lost in the dizzying aftermath of your orgasm, all you could do was breathe, eyes closed. You fisted one hand in his shirt, feeling his heart beating savagely under his breastbone. 

You tilted your head up, meeting his gaze.

“No,” you said.

AAAAHHHH omg i was so shy writing that little smutty part lmaooo BUT YES MORE TO COME OOOOHHHH (you will get a whole smut scene soon, let me get used to writing smut again hihihihi)

tags:  @subtlemalice @yallgotkik @buckyandlokirunmylife @kaz11283 @legolas-bromance @shylittlemountain @tofeartheunknown @feelmyfckngsoul @kind-of-crazy-butthatsokay @caffiend-queen @tomhollandsslilslut @lady-loki-ren @nathan-no @rosaline-black @abundanceofcarolines @my-own-oracle @it-was-all-a-beautiful-dream @marvelouslovely @drbaureid @bored-as-hell-666 @youhavemyfantasticbeasts @theinfinitenerd @toe-vind-ek-jou @ink-and-starlight @blank-bakabane @sunshineonloki @holaamishamigos @palegoopbearlight @heyarely16 @pleaseexecuteme @athalahild @help-i-need-a-social-life @tapismyforte @coloursforyourportrait @celestialstarshadow @fukyouthink @lust-for-pan @thic-thor @winchescumberholland

[young-dumb-and-vaccinated]

The Cult Girl (Hannibal x Female!Reader) pt. 8

Sorry if this one is a bit shorter. I didn't want to make part 7 insanely long so I just split the story in a way that made sense to me. Y/n lets Hannibal take care of the mess and narrowly avoids a mental breakdown in a CVS.

Trigger warning: blood, violence, gaslighting, ⚠️emetophobia⚠️

You stood up from your seat, your brain refusing to process what just happened.

"Oh look." You said, pointing down. "Her face landed in the glass and there's blood everywhere."

Hannibal casually glanced over the table. The ends of his mouth turned up slightly. "So there is."

The reality of the situation was just starting to set in. You took a deep breath in, expecting to scream, but nothing came out. Instead, you finished your glass of wine. 

Noticing your distress, Hannibal crossed the floor and took a knee beside her. He pressed his fingers against her neck. 

“She’s alive.” He assured you. “For now.” 

You didn’t know whether to be relieved or disappointed, and the indecision made you panic even more. “So what do we do now? What do I do now?” 

“Well,” Hannibal stood up. “She’s pretty severely concussed and losing a lot of blood. We could call an ambulance. With proper medical care and immediate action, she’ll probably live.” 

You froze in your spot and stared blankly off into the distance. You didn’t feel overly compelled to call for help. You were too overwhelmed with emotion to move much, anyway. You felt your soul leaving your body. 

“...But I take it by your inaction,” Hannibal piped up. “That you’re open to an alternate plan?” 

“Huh?” You snapped out of your trance. 

Hannibal closed the space between you. He cupped your face in his hand, his thumb running comfortingly along your cheek. “Do you trust me?” 

You didn’t fully know what you were agreeing to, but you didn’t care. “Of course I do.” 

“Then listen to me very carefully, [Y/N].” Hannibal’s voice hardened with severity. “Go upstairs and change back into your day clothes. Then, I want you to drive to the pharmacy and withdraw some cash from the ATM. Then stay in the store until I call you, understood?” 

You nodded. 

“Go now.” He ordered, pulling away from you. 

You sprinted up the stairs, tore off your gown and pulled the nearest pair of pants over your legs in one fluid motion. You grabbed a shirt and a hoodie hanging over a chair and snatched up your car keys. In a moment, you were out the door and behind the wheel, speeding away from the crime scene. 

The pharmacy was the only place open so late at night. You pulled into the parking lot and selected one of the many vacant spots. You took your key out of the ignition and prepared yourself for an onslaught of emotion. But it didn’t come. 

You sat in the driver’s seat, replaying the scene in your head over and over again. One second, the bottle was in your hand, the next, it was breaking every bone in Theresa’s face. You could have very well taken a life that day. But it wasn’t an innocent person on the road, it was Theresa. The same Theresa that put Nair in her sister’s shampoo and lobbied against child labor laws. And she died the way she lived; running her stupid mouth, waiting for someone to shut her up. 

You were more terrified of Hannibal's response than anything else. He seemed too enthusiastic to cover your tracks for you. Like he was returning to some favorite game he hadn't picked up in a while.

You shuffled across the parking lot to the ATM. Why did Hannibal need cash? Was he going to pay someone off? He didn't specify how much he needed. Was $100 enough to bribe the police? You settled on $100.

The bright fluorescent lights scalded your eyes. You needed to look like you were there for a reason. Grabbing a basket, you tried to distract yourself by going through the shopping list for your apartment.

Toilet paper, hand sanitizer, and body wash. Pilar is allergic to coconut oil so we need to check the ingredients. You found yourself narrating the shopping list in your head, even though it was one you ran down hundreds of times. You knew which brand of body wash to get Pilar, but you were grabbing random soaps and thumbing through the ingredients anyway.

On your way to the cough syrups, you felt a terrible pain in your stomach. You caved around the pain, regretting devouring that pot-au-feu so quickly. When you opened your eyes again, you saw them: the pregnancy tests.

No. You said to yourself. I am not going to keep Theresa alive by letting her get into my head.

As if on cue, another pang of pain reverberated from your core. It was bad enough Theresa had you doubting your memories, now she had you doubting your own body. She couldn’t possibly know your own body better than you, and she was out of line to suggest so.

But, whether you wanted to accept it or not, Theresa had planted the seed in your brain. You wanted so badly to claw it out with your bare hands. The most painless route, though, was to purchase one of those tests and prove her wrong.

In the meantime, you assured yourself she was wrong. You hadn't missed a day of birth control since the tenth grade. Regardless, the pregnancy test in your basket weighed a ton.

Your phone buzzed in your pocket, sending you flying out of your skin. The lone cashier took notice.

"You okay, miss?"

You nodded, though you were so clearly not okay. With a trembling hand, you brought the phone up to your ear. "Hello?"

"It's safe now, darling." Hannibal said. "You can come home."

He said it so candidly, it was obvious that he'd done it before.

"Okay, baby, I'll see you at home." You answered, a little too loudly. As the words left your mouth you felt stupid. You'd never once called Hannibal 'baby' and you sure as hell weren't gonna start today.

You brought your items to the cashier, the pain in your stomach worsening. You made a point to waddle back to the medicine aisle and grab some painkillers before the cashier could finish ringing everything up.

By the time you were back behind the wheel, you were fighting the urge to drive off a cliff. The pain in your stomach was unbearable and you had no idea where it was coming from. It had to be psychosomatic. Your body was compensating for the shortcomings of your brain. You knew you were supposed to feel guilty but you just didn't, and your body was punishing you for it.

At home you were clutching the toilet, vomiting your guts out. Hannibal was at your side, gently stroking your hair. Again, acting as candidly as if he were nursing a hangover.

"I'm so sorry." You croaked, lifting your head from the toilet. "I don't know what this is. I didn't even drink that much."

"Don't apologize." He said, calmly. He stood up, filled a glass with water and offered it to you. "You're overwhelmed. It's natural."

"You say this like you've done this before." You joked, though you knew you were right. You clutched the glass with both hands, the coolness feeling good against your hot skin.

Hannibal took a knee beside you. His finger found a blade of your hair and tucked it behind your ear. "Now, we're not going to tell anyone about this, are we?"

He was fully aware of how intimidating he really was.

"I would never." You traced an x over your heart. "Swear on my grandfather's grave."

"Good girl." He traced your jawline with his finger. "Your intuition is as sharp as ever, I see."

You took a long sip of water. "Huh?"

"Don't insult your own intelligence, you know what I mean."

"You've hidden bodies before." You inferred, sitting up.

"I've done more than hide bodies, love, and I think you know that." Hannibal corrected.

Your first instinct was to stand up and get more wine, but moving too fast made you dizzy. "...so did it hurt?"

Hannibal raised an eyebrow. "I beg your pardon?"

"When Theresa died." You said, quietly. "Did she hurt at all?"

This pleased and surprised him to hear. "No. She was so heavily concussed, I doubt she felt anything."

You frowned. "Damn."

"Did you have something else in mind?"

Theresa's last words rung over in your head. 'I didn't think you had it in you'. The thoughts flooding your mind, about how Theresa would go were it up to you, assured you that you did in fact have it in you.

"I would have liked to see her suffer a little." You muttered under your breath.

"I'll keep that in mind for next time." He smiled and offered you his hand. "Come on, love. Let's get you cleaned up."

[ragingbookdragon]

To Fear Or Not To Fear, That Is The Question PT. 1

Lantern!Reader x Lanternfamily

Word Count: 2.3K Warnings: Explicit Language, Angst, Mentions of PTSD

Author's Note: I wrote this story a while ago, but this ask made me post it! I'll get part two out sometime later! Enjoy! -Thorne

**********************************************************************

She gripped the arm rests of her chair until her knuckles started to whiten, her heart pounded in her chest, so harshly against her rib cage that it began to hurt. The flashes spread across her mind, and she squeezed her eyes shut, forcing herself to breathe as the mantra, “You’re home” flowed through her lips, though it didn’t quell the violent shaking in her body.

Their faces darted through her mind, expressions frozen in mixtures of shock, pain, and fear. She could feel herself slipping back there, could feel the heat of the sun beating down on her body, the sliding of her limbs in the burning desert sand, the splattering of hot blood from her teammates wounds, the smell of gunmetal and oil, of sweat—it was all coming back again, so fast, and all she could do was hold on and force herself to ground.

She had no idea what had set off the attack, but she did know that she was able to turn the lights off and sit down before it immobilized her with tremors. Clenching her hands into fists, she forced herself to bend over, pressing her forehead to her knees.

You’re home, (Y/N). You’re not in Afghanistan anymore. You’re alive. You’re here. The memories are there, but you’re not. Relax. Focus. Keep it together. Don’t give in. Hold—

An explosion rocked the side of the house, sending her to the floor and she gasped, automatically covering her head, waiting for the impact of mortar rounds and grenades. Another explosion sounded, followed by a bellow, and (Y/N) lifted her head up, crawling on al fours to the window. Gripping the window ledge, she pulled herself up and peeked over, eyes widening at the sight of two glowing figures throwing punches back and forth.

One of them was covered in a green glow, the other an angry red. She held the ledge and watched as the red one socked the other in the chest and they hit the ground, holding out their arms to protect themselves. The attacker lifted their hands and to her shock, a crimson block appeared above them. In an instant, she knew who the enemy was.

Her eyes darted to the lock box sitting on the shelf and forcing herself to get up, she ran to it, yanking it open and grabbing the contents. She sprinted to the door and shoved the clip into the 357 Magnum, pulling back the slide before flipping the safety off. (Y/N) slung the door open and ran down the front steps, kneeling in the grass as she raised the gun and closed one eye, taking sight of the target before her. With an intake of breath, she unloaded all nine rounds into the back of the glowing red person.

She wasn’t sure if it took them down because they started spurting more of the acid like blood, but it was the opening that the person below them needed, because the next thing (Y/N) knew, a flash of green sent the bellowing red enemy sky-high and out of sight.

Her arms suddenly felt weak, and she let them go slack, the Magnum landing by her hip. A groan sounded from the person in green and she stumbled to her feet, hurrying on weak knees to them.

They were laying in the grass, and when she got there, her jaw went slack when she saw their legs blown off a few feet away. (Y/N) went to her knees, already yanking her sweatshirt off, starting to tie tourniquets around the amputated appendages.

“Hey,” she breathed when they groaned. “You’re gonna be okay. I’m here to help.”

They opened their eyes and she blinked at how bright and green they were. “It is too late.”

(Y/N) shook her head. “No. I’ll help you.” She swallowed the urge to vomit as the blue blood started soaking through her sweatshirt and on her hands. “You’re going to be okay.”

They reached out and grabbed her arm. “You must take my place.”

“I—what?” she asked, tying the knots tighter. “You need to get to a hospital. You’re bleeding out.”

“I have been bleeding out.” They laughed, blood splattering their chin. “Atrocitus’ minion has chased me long through the stars.”

“Atrocitus? Who?” (Y/N) shook her head. “Look, we need to get you help.”

“Your human healers cannot help me. I am at my end.” They squeezed her wrist. “You must take my place amongst the Green Lanterns. If the ring is left alone, someone could corrupt it.”

(Y/N) stared at them. “Rings? What?”

They raised their hand free hand and she saw a black band, a glowing green symbol in the center—she recognized the symbol; the Green Lantern in the Justice League wore it. Slipping it off, they handed it to her.

“Find the Four Corpsmen in this city. They will help you.”

(Y/N) shook her head. “No. Right now, I need to help you.” Her eyes hardened. “I don’t know anything about alien physiology, but I will save you.”

Their eyes narrowed fondly, and they whispered, “I can see the fear you hold in your heart…that you could not save the ones you were supposed to protect from your enemies.” They swallowed, coughing harshly. “You can overcome this fear.” Holding out the ring again, they said, “The ring will guide you to the Four Corpsmen.”

She took the ring, flipping it over in her hand, and she caught sight of a dim green inscription. Squinting, (Y/N) read, “In brightest day, in blackest night, no evil shall escape my sight. Let those who worship evil's might, beware my power—Green Lantern's light.”

The green ring suddenly moved on its own, sliding onto her finger and an otherworldly voice commanded, (Y/N) (L/N) of Earth. You have the ability to overcome great fear. Welcome to the Green Lantern Corps.

A warmth washed over her body, and she watched in shock as her clothes were replaced with a skintight black and green suit, but it didn’t feel restricting. It felt comfortable—it made her feel safe. A mask flashed across her eyes and when she looked down at the alien, their eyes had glazed over, mouth frozen in a smile.

(Y/N) felt her heart tighten and she breathed out, reaching over, gently closing their eyes. She stood from the body and wandered behind the house, returning with a shovel. It didn’t take long to dig out the hole and she was surprised that she wasn’t tired from the exertion as she lowered the body into it, before covering them with dirt and standing over the grave, her hands clasped together.

Wherever you’ve ended up, friend…I hope you’re at peace. She opened her eyes, a firm look in them. I’ll continue your mission.

She looked down at the ring on her finger, then up at the bright city in the distance. Gotta go into the city. (Y/N) turned and walked into the house, climbing the steps to her bedroom. Glancing down at the ring, she said, “Okay, ring. You gotta power down so I can change my clothes.”

Nothing happened and her brows furrowed.

“Power down?” Again nothing, and a bolt of irritation struck a nerve, and she clenched her fist, commanding, “Power down. Now.” The suit on her body faded and she sighed in relief. “Okay, so commands work.” (Y/N) moved into the shower. “Clean up first, then get dressed and leave.”

***

She kept to the back alleys of the city, which, given that it was nine o’clock, most of them were empty, still, she didn’t want to find trouble before she found the…what had the alien called them? Four Corpsmen?

(Y/N) shook er head and looked down at the ring on her finger. It hadn’t lit up again since she told it to stop. “Ring! Uh…show me where the Four Corpsmen are!”

The symbol in the middle lit up and a started making flashes, and in a panic, she shouted, “Do it inconspicuously!” A small green line slide along the ground and she smiled. “That’s better.”

Following it, she sprinted through the back streets until she came to a bar; she rolled her eyes. “Of course, they’re in a bar. What men.”

(Y/N) followed the line into the bar and when it disappeared, she blinked, looking around for whoever could fit the description of supposed Corpsmen. There were a few guys at the bar, a few playing pool, some at booths and tables…she had no idea who could possibly be who she was looking for.

Someone brushed past her with a small, “Excuse me, sweetheart.” Another dart of green appeared in her vision, and she saw it attached to his back as he flowed through the bar and to the back where a trio of young men were sitting. They cheered when he got back and he smiled, passing out four beers.

“Them?” she murmured to herself and before she could move, someone had her around the waist.

“Hey, babe. Lookin’ for company?”

(Y/N)’s face pinched, and she shrugged away from them. “No thanks. I’m not here for fun.”

“Now don’t be like that.” The guy reached for her and before he knew it, he found himself being slammed face first into a wooden post, collapsing down onto his back, out cold.

She happened to look up just as his friends were coming over from the pool table and she rolled her eyes, already lifting her hands, ready for a fight. Two came at her and she swiped a beer mug from a server, sloshing the beer in one’s face before she sidestepped, slamming the glass into the second’s head. (Y/N) flowed into the next step and threw her elbow out into the first’s throat. They both fell to the ground, and she tossed the handle aside, but before she could do anything, someone had her around the waist, hauling her up then slamming her down to the ground.

(Y/N) grunted as she lost her bearings, and somewhere over the noise and music of the bar, she heard more shouting, but she paid it no mind, scrambling to her feet when one of them shoved her backwards.

Someone caught her, shoving her back up, shouting, “Get your head in the game, lady! We got some assholes to lay flat!” Four men passed her, already throwing punches and spurred on, she threw herself back in the fight.

Within seconds, the bar fight was over, and she panted as the four guys leaned against the bar, all laughing, each picking up a beer mug to drink from. (Y/N) felt a bit worn and someone laid a hand on her shoulder.

“Hey, you good?”

She looked up at the man who had short cropped, ginger hair and nodded. “Yeah, I’m fine.” Glancing at the others, she said, “Thanks for the assist.”

One of them held out a hand. “You fight like a soldier.”

“Former special ops. Navy corpsman.” She replied, eyeing the dog tags around his neck as she shook his hand firmly. “Sergeant.”

“John,” he corrected with a smile, then gestured to his friends. “That’s Guy, Kyle, and Hal.”

(Y/N) shook their hands too. “Name’s (Y/N).”

One of them, Kyle, handed her a beer. “So, what brought you to the bar besides the bar-fight?”

She gazed into the liquid. “Uh…I’m looking for someone…multiple people actually.” Her eyes fell on them again. “But in the haze of the fight, I lost sight of whoever it was.”

Hal sent her a wink. “We’d be glad to help out a beautiful lady like yourself.”

(Y/N) rolled her eyes, but since she didn’t have a better option, she murmured, “I’m looking for some men who are known as the ‘Four Corpsmen’.”

Immediately the mood shifted as their friendly faces dropped, all solemn as they looked at her. “Where did you hear that name?” John questioned and she met his gaze.

“I’m taking from the seriousness that you’re who I’m looking for then.” (Y/N) held out her hand. “The alien said you could help me with this…I don’t know how to work it.”

They all glanced down at her hand, well, the ring on her hand, eyes widening at the sight; Hal grabbed her wrist. “Where did you get this?”

“The alien. It was being attacked by something in red and I…” she looked away. “I shot it, but the alien, it…I couldn’t save it. Its wounds were too severe.” (Y/N) yanked her hand back, clenching it into a fist. “It told me to take its place amongst the Green Lanterns. To overcome my fear.” Swallowing thickly, she admitted, “I don’t how to do that…but it said you four could help me with it.”

She could tell the were mulling it over, quite possibly communicating with one another by the way they seemed to shoot each other looks, and she cracked a smile at how Guy cocked a brow and then gestured to her whilst looking at Kyle like he was an idiot.

But (Y/N) grew tired of their mental conversation and yanked the beer mug from Guy’s hand, ignoring his shout, and she down it before slamming it on the bar. “Look, I don’t what I’m supposed to do with this, and if I’m left to my own devices, I’ll probably do more damage than I would help people.” She stared them down. “Even if you don’t want to, help me so I don’t get innocent people killed.”

For a moment, they all looked at each other, then Guy reached over and pulled her around the neck, smirking at them. “I think she’s going to do great things with us, boys.”

Kyle winced. “Guy, maybe don’t put your arm around the woman who was former special forces?”

(Y/N) huffed a laugh. “Don’t worry…I can handle whatever you throw at me.”

[the-slasher-files]

Coming Home to Sleepy Slashers - pt 3

INCLUDES BO

I absolutely adore this man and writing for him is a blast :) I recommend reading this after a long day, it will hit different trust lol... hope you enjoy🔪💕

MASTERLIST

The caliginous road ahead of you challenged your gaze, hiding the turns, hiding the deer and small creatures from you until the last dying second, teasing you to ruin Bo’s truck and leaving Lester with something to clean up in the morning. The yellow and white stripes were like razors in the dark night, sharp and smooth leading you home. The eyes of the truck and yours were calling for the marker, the one Bo left for you years ago to single the turn off to Ambrose. It was a large piece of concrete with a little bit of crooked rebar sticking out of it dangerously, other drivers wouldn’t dare look at it in fear they would ruin their tires, but to you it was a warm sight, only half a mile left to the turn. To home.

Driving Bo’s truck honestly made you apprehensive about everything, it was his baby and sometimes you thought he loved it more than you. If you wrecked it there was nothing stopping him from losing himself in a fit of rage and strangling you dead. But it held you steady and guided you home like a comforting spirit; almost an extension on Bo; protecting you, watching over the surroundings, holding you and pushing as far as you would let it. The absence of the blaring rock music almost made it feel like it wasn’t his for a second, but the smell of cigarettes, gas, grease and his deep cologne was unmistakably Bo.

Turning on the gravel road the truck roared, almost warning Ambrose that it was back home. Your body was growing tired and desperate for your bed and the addictive kisses of your lover. A long drive and even longer day pounded your head, praying that the hidden town would show itself soon so you didn’t have to strain any longer.

A glow approached, and the town was lit up luring you in and any other strangers looking for hope or a warm meal. These nights really made you not blame lost travelers for coming to Ambrose, it was picture-esque but mysterious, beckoning people to come closer until their ultimate demise. So deadly, so silent, it slipped away seamlessly into the wilderness.

The truck conquered the “wash out” like it did one thousand times before, and you could see the dimly lit gas station and your truck out front that Bo had been working on this morning, but you could tell it was all locked up. Not a soul in sight you drove up to the house and stepped out into the Louisiana cadence; crickets, frogs, and water rushing all made it so peaceful, it betrayed the secrets and pain that lied here.

Pulling your spent body into the house, the warmth of the yellow lights and cheap air conditioning welcomed you home. No one was in sight and it was eerily quiet, you usually heard Vincent’s classical music dulled against the walls or even Bo’s yelling, but there was nothing. Just silence. It was a bit unnerving to the seasoned vet you had become, fearing that the men were killing or were injured.

Tossing your jacket and bags carelessly on the pool table, making the balls roll and clink together as you set your sights for the upstairs bedroom. Dragging your languid body up the creaky steps, you found Bo’s hat at the top of the stairs and his shirt discarded in the hall not far behind. Picking up his belongings as a natural reflex now, the smell of him filled your lungs and your body eased.  

Faltering to the bedroom the painted wooden door was wide open, and you could hear his broken snoring from the doorway. Sighing, you leaned against the frame just observing the scene in front of you. Beer bottles littered the floor and nightstand implying it was a bad night, when you were gone he often had bad nights, you were his rock and the light in his life, without you he fell into his insecurities and his fear of you leaving him for someone else, someone better, someone that didn’t drink, someone that didn’t kill. You would always come back to him but try telling the demons inside his head that.

Bo laid face first into his pillow with his dark curly locks falling where ever they pleased, his large arm was draped over your pillow, clinging to it as if it were you, while the other was aimlessly hanging off the mattress. He was shirtless but still in his mechanic pants that were probably staining the sheets with grease or oil, like it did to his nails and ring. His scarred muscular back rose and fell, twitching every once and while most likely from being in a nightmare he had repeatedly.

Turning off the light and closing the door, you threw his shirt and the clothes you were wearing into the closet, cleaning it up in the morning. You gently placed his hat on top of a brown glass bottle on the nightstand beside Bo. Crawling into bed just in your bra and underwear, moving his heavy arm to his side accidentally grabbing his maimed wrist, his blood shot blue eyes opened with force and his body tensed in your grasp. Letting go of him, he pushed himself up and rolled to his side, meeting your eyes with his. A snarl turned into a gentle smirk as you pushed his hair out of his face and your scent warmed his lungs and comforted his body.

“It’s ok... I’m here now” You quietly spoke. Words Bo would never get tired of hearing. “Sorry, they wanted me to stay late,” making yourself more comfortable under the sheets, he tossed his pants off and got under with you. Pulling you close and kissing your lips; there was that taste you craved, cigarettes, beer, gas and him, it was home.      

"Never tell em' that your fine stayin’ late again" he chuckled against your skin with his southern accent more prominent than usual, clinging to your body like it was his life line. He needed you.  

[weelittleweasley]

illumination (r.w.)

prompt as requested by anon: after a long day of work, ron suggests running you a bath as a reward to unwind.

pairing: ron weasley x fem!reader

warnings: nudity, thigh rubbing (nothing too crazy, very innocent)

word count: 1.9k

Strings of sentences, directions, names of potions, spells, laughter, chatter, and thoughts danced in your head, whirling around like a chaotic band of ballerinas as you walked down the hall, rubbing your shoulder with a grimace. As if the thoughts weren’t annoyance enough, your shoulders and back were killing you from being hunched over a desk and work table for hours. 

Exam season had arrived at Hogwarts which cost you your social life, free time, and some nights, your sleep schedule. Whatever the cost was, you promised yourself that this year would be your year, grades wise. You had spent most of your time in the library, occupied with books and notes and parchment, memorizing formulas and ingredients and spells. So many nights you left the library, brain throbbing at how much you were working the midnight oil.

You weren’t alone in these endeavors. You had study companions, but it wasn’t the same as hanging out normally. Rather than chatting or gossiping about exciting things, the chatter and murmuring was usually about a test or material that someone didn’t understand. Needless to say, exam season was boring and lifeless.

As you slumped through the hallways, rubbing your shoulder in pain, you groan as you lay your eyes on the moving staircase. You were already so exhausted and the last thing you wanted to do was deal with the moving staircase. You just wanted to get back to your dormitory so you could take a power nap before heading back to the library to study with Hermione. 

“Give me these,” a voice speaks before reaching over and grabbing the pile of textbooks from your arms. Before you can speak out in protest, you turn to meet the gaze of your doting boyfriend and your lips instantly curl up into a smile. “Darling, I don’t mean to sound rude, but you look exhausted,” Ron tells you, inspecting your face that carried dark circles under your eyes. “Still very beautiful, but very exhausted.”

You lightly giggled before leaning into Ron’s side as he wrapped an arm around your waist, as the two of you started up the moving staircase. “I’ve been working relentlessly for weeks now, Ron,” you huff as you trudge up the stairs, legs feeling heavy as you lean your weight onto Ron who supports you effortlessly. “I spend nights in the library as if it were my own bed.”

Ron gives you a sad smile, knowing just how hard you’ve been working to maintain your stellar marks. He knew that he would kiss you goodnight in your room, but you would slither out later to make your way to the library. He watched you as you ate your meals in the Great Hall by his side quickly before rushing off, claiming you were late for a study group meeting. He knew this was weighing on you like a ton of bricks and he hated seeing how tired and bored you were. “I’m sorry, love,” he pecks your temple as he laces his fingers with yours before bring your hand to his lips, kissing your knuckles gently. He wished there was something he could do to help take the stress off of you. 

“No need to apologize,” you smile up at him lovingly, brushing his red hair away from his eyes. “You didn’t do anything wrong. I just can’t wait for this to be over so I can actually go back to spending time with you,” you sigh as you reach your common room entrance, grabbing the books from Ron’s arms as he huffs in defeat. “Once all of this is over, I’m all yours again. We can do something fun together, I promise,” you squeeze his hand as he ducks down to press a kiss to your lips gently. You sigh into his kiss and pull him closer to you, relishing in the tender moment. 

You missed Ron dearly. Studying and spending time in study groups really threw a wrench in spending time with your boyfriend. Ron wasn’t offended, he knew you had work to do, but he wished that you two could spend more time together. And you knew Ron felt the same. Ron wished he could kiss away all of the sleepless nights, frustrated crying, and pulling at the roots of your hair in sheer irritation. He knew you needed a way to take a load off and keep your mind off of exams for just a few hours. 

Suddenly, Ron pulled away sharply, excitement in his eyes as a smirk danced along his lips, the grip on your hips tightening. You giggled, “Uh oh. I know that face. What’s going on in that head of yours?” Teasingly, you knocked on his forehead as he rolled his eyes.

Ron joked back, “No use checking up there. Little to nothing going on nowadays,” he says, making you laugh. “But I do have an idea. I may not be completely useless...”

You shake your head, “What are you talking about?” Ron smiles widely before grabbing your hand, pulling you away from the entrance of the common room and back up the moving staircase. “Godric, Ronald Weasley, where are you taking me?” you chuckle as he drags you up the stairs excited like a child on Christmas morning. 

But Ron says nothing and drags you up multiple flights of stairs before reaching the fifth floor of the castle, breathless from running up the stairs. He is smiling widely, watching your reaction as you stand there clueless. He gestures around him to see if you recognized where you were, but you just shrugged, still catching your breath from being forced up multiple moving flights of stairs. “Oh come on!” Ron exclaims. He starts walking towards a statue of Boris the Bewildered as you furrow your brows in confusion. Ron whispers something before a door slowly creaks open. Ron looks at you with a proud smile on his lips before gesturing to you to follow him. “Being a prefect does have its perks, (Y/N),” he winks as you walk towards him and into the mysterious room.

As you step into the room, you are greeted with the luxury of the Prefect’s Bathroom. The bathroom is gorgeous to say the least. A large golden bathtub that is surrounded by beautiful windows covered in stained glass mosaics of magical creatures, sunlight streaming through them, casting colorful shadows on the marble floor. The room was bright and warm, smelling of freshly hung linens and lavender. A very different atmosphere than the common showers.

You flip around to face Ron who has his hands buried happily in his pockets as he watches you take in the surroundings in awe. “Ron, I can’t be in here,” you whisper excitedly. “I’m not a prefect. If they catch me in here, then-”

“Then I’ll take the blame. ‘Salright. It’ll be worth it just to see you relax for a couple of hours,” Ron cuts you off. You open your mouth again but Ron interjects. “And don’t worry about the study group. Hermione runs it and she’s not gonna miss one person. It’s okay, (Y/N). You can take this time for yourself to relax.” You sigh happily at your boyfriend’s words. He wanted to do all of this for you and the fact that he was risking getting in trouble for it made your heart soar. Ron was always kind and thoughtful, but this was a different level. “I can stand guard at the door and make sure no one interrupts you,” Ron starts rambling when you don’t respond.

Instead, you just grab his face and pull him down for a kiss, wrapping your arms around his neck, pulling him close. Ron sighs into your touch and wraps his arms around your waist, giving you a squeeze as you giggle into the kiss. You pull away and speak, “It’s perfect. Thank you. And no need to guard the door,” you pull out your wand and with a flick of your wrist, locking the door. “I want you with me,” you tell him as Ron’s eyes widen and he gulps. You lightly laugh before starting to unbutton your shirt. “Help me?”

Ron shakes his head, excitedly as you laugh yet again, his fingers undoing the buttons of your shirt whilst you undo his. Soon enough, all of your clothes are discarded into a heap on the marble floor until you and Ron are bare naked. Ron cannot stop gawking at the sight of you naked before him; it’s nothing he hasn’t seen, but every time he sees you nude, he can’t believe that he managed to get a girlfriend who was as gorgeous as you. 

You grab his hand and excitedly hurry over to the bathtub that teems with bubbles, steam radiating off of the water that was freshly poured into the large tub. When you step in, you can feel your body immediately relax as you sigh. The further you walk in, the more your muscles release and make you sink further into the warm, soapy water. You let the water wash over you, cleaning you from all of your stress and worries, the soft sunlight shining down on you as you bathe in the tub. 

Ron watched intently with a soft smile on his lips as he sat in the tub, watching you bask in the glory of the amber sunlight. Your hair sloppily pulled up and away from your face, a fuzzy halo formed around you, like a drunken angel. His angel. The sunlight glimmered on your soft, supple skin, drops of the clear water tracing down each curve of your body. Ron couldn’t believe how angelic you could look without even trying. He watched as you gather bubbles in the palms of your hands, blowing on them gently, making them fly through the air. As you lightly laughed, the melody of the sound filled his ears making him shiver. The boy was helplessly in love. 

“Come over here, won’t you, darling?” Ron calls out to you as you comply with a happy smile on your face. 

Ron pulls you into his lap as you gladly straddle him, playing with the hair at the back of his neck, gazing into those eyes you grew to fall in love with. Ron’s hands gently massage your thighs, soothing the aching muscles as you sighed into him. “Thank you for doing this,” you tell him before kissing the tip of his nose.

He smiles and speaks, “No need to thank me. It’s what you deserve.”

You lean into Ron’s chest, resting your head on him, listening to the rhythmic thumping of his heart against his chest. It proudly beat on as Ron’s fingertip traced gently up and down your spine, repeating the lulling gesture as you allowed yourself to close your eyes for a moment, enjoying the sensation. Ron placed gentle kisses on the top of your head as you cuddled farther into him as he smiled to himself. He had the whole world in his arms. 

Ron continued to rub your bare back and thighs, causing you to drift off into a lazy sleep. He noticed instantly that you had fallen asleep, your breathing had slowed down and you laid flush against him. Ron smiled down at you, watching your face rest with sleep, lips parted as you gently breathed sleepily. 

The sunlight illuminated half of your face whilst the other half rested on his chest. The image was worthy of being hung in a museum. Ron’s strong arms wrapped around you, protecting you from harm, whilst you lazily slept, not a care in the world. 

“My angel,” he whispered to himself, knowing that you wouldn’t hear him. You continued to be fast asleep on his chest and Ron enjoyed every second of it, wishing that this moment could last forever. Him and his angel.

[chaos-caffeinated]

Miracle of a Chance Ch. 9 (Part 1 of 2)

Taglist: @ultimatebottom69 @bitxhinthecomments @natiebug1

This is the longest chapter of yet, so there will be two parts. One posted today, the other tomorrow!

Enjoy!

There's a little extra in there, I didn't write alcina x reader for nothing.

Giggles erupted into the hallway in a teasing manner, and it came from none other of the three witches themselves: Bela, Cassandra, and Daniela. It would stop for a couple minutes and resume once again. Inside a room, the library, was 7-year-old Ezekiel with his mother, Lady Dimitrescu.

Currently in his home studies, Ezekiel's cheeks were puffed as he pouts at his mother's direction, clearly showing his frustration.

"Once you finish with your assignment you can play with your sisters." She stated calmly, reading over his answers. She skimmed through the answers with her glasses on.

"But I did do my work." He raised his papers, "See?" The page was filled of his handwriting. For the past hour, he had been practicing his handwriting, his natural writing and his calligraphy; it needed work, and that is why he was practicing.

Alcina wanted all her children educated, but it was unnecessary for her girls to study what he was because of his human stance. She wanted him prepared for the world, for he would represent what men should be: courteous, respectful, self-worthy, yet still carrying the assertiveness and confidence without humiliating anybody.

She looked up to admit he did finished, "What about the rest?" She asked, opening her palm, only to receive the paper.

"Mom...you said if I had finished my assignment, and I did." Ezekiel confidently spoke, smiling small as he made a point. She was surprised that he listened so well, but she was also slightly upset that now she had to let him go, "Well, Mr. Dimitrescu, You are correct-"

Ezekiel beamed at her reaction, "So I can go?" He asked, almost bouncing in his chair, beginning to pack up.

"Wait a minute, your homework."

Ezekiel slumped in his chair, and Alcina raised an eyebrow which caused him to straighten up in his chair.

Then she placed her hand over the other, "You'll read 5 paragraphs of your favorite book and recite it to me in French, in addition, you'll also practice more of some cursive words to get better at it. That's it for today, you've done well." She praised which lit up his facial features with pride.

"Thank you, Mom!" He cleaned up his desk before running out to the hallway to meet with his sisters.

Alcina smirked softly as she continued grading his papers, distracting her for awhile before going to her bedroom today.

~

Each of the girls' plan was to scare Ezekiel as he searched for them, already deciding to play hide-and-seek. They were ruthless when hiding from Ezekiel, but he would always scream then laugh at their attempt, it was music to their ears when not dealing with actual men, or maidens.

As Cassandra listened to his footsteps, she noticed the pattern of walking and searching, and running with confident of their whereabouts.

When laughter erupted and bounced on the walls, the footsteps stopped only for there to be a scrape.

"Cassandra!" He shouted with confidence laced with his voice, giggling afterwards, "I know that's you."

"It only counts when you find me, little brother!~" She replied arrogantly.

Ezekiel placed his finger on his chin as he glanced around the main living room. He scanned the area before noticing a shadow cast on the ceiling, "There you are! On the ceiling!" He called out. The mass of flies buzzed off from the ceiling and reached to the floor, nearing him only transformed to her human form, giggling, "So you found me first?" She grins, ruffling his hair only for Ezekiel to giggle and fixing it. His hair was in a ponytail with a bow on the back.

"Now you must help me find Bela!" He pointed at nothing in particular as he took charge in the moment.

"Lead the way, brethren." She picked him up and settled him on over her shoulders. Together they searched and searched, and he even looked on the ceiling. That was until they entered a room. Like every room, it was elegantly designed with the golden details, white walls. There were two wardrobes on each side, and both Cassandra and Ezekiel checked twice because "checking twice removes...it's just better to check twice." he would come up with, and the anti-climatic quote would make Daniela burst out laughing only for him to laugh with her.

Once they check the wardrobes, Ezekiel hummed in dissapointment, "They're not here..." he commented, crossing his arms and resting his finger on his chin before he raised an eyebrow at a brick on the floor. He pulled his hand away from his face slightly before making his way to the brick only to notice a broken side of the wall, "Hey, Cassie....what is...this?" His voice faltered as he felt an ominous vibe from inside. It was horribly lit with the terrible rotting wood compared to the golden accents in the castle. The oil lamp was still lit, and he even stepped back.

"OOh~ Bela and Daniela could be down there, mother is going to be very mad." She inspected the broken wall, "Hm..." She turned around to look at Ezekiel with a grin, "Shall we go?"

"Uhm...I don't....I don't want to..." Ezekiel wrapped his own arms around his shoulders as he stared at the room with a uncertain look.

"Oh come on, baby brother, you're going to let them win? We spent an hour looking for them and they could be here." Cassandra pitched in, "Come on, it'll be quick. We'll hop in, and out in no time-"

"You promise?" He asked, his hands trembling softly against his arms as he made eye contact with her piercing yellow eyes.

"Yes, yes, I do promise. Now shall we? Do you want to be behind me?" She started walking inside, "There's a ladder." she revelled, "Bela and Daniela made so much effort for you to look for them."

Hesitantly, Ezekiel followed. He watched and observed everything around him as he became more sensitive, getting goosebumps at any point. He watched Cassandra just become her swarm as she went to the bottom of the ladders and he turned around to get down. He was cautious about his movements as he tried not to get his clothes dirtied from the dust.

When he reached to the bottom, he followed Cassandra as he passed a pile of loose papers by the table and just watched her become the swarm again and into the cracks of the wall. He was confused as to how she knew her way, but he was disappointed that the wall was not a signal of dead end, a signal for him to turn back.

In the process of Ezekiel and Cassandra making their way to the cellar, Alcina was enjoying her meal from her favorite maid, the nanny that was taking care of her son when not playing with his sisters, and someone she secretly considered someone closer than a personal maid.

Her red, semi-glossy lips were pressed against your flesh as she sucked on the blood, making you grunt as you bit your thumb.

"You make a wonderful noise, dear, I made no mistake in trusting you." She complimented as she pulled way, her lips removing from you sounded that of a separated kiss, a kiss you desired for so long.

"Thank you, my lady." You sighed softly as you lay on the bed, sheets covering your torso and below.

She smirked and caressed your cheek, confidence surging as you leaned closer to her, "Who would have thought that because of your persistence, you would be here?"

You turn your face slightly to face her, to see her smile lines, to see her this close to notice the brush strokes, the eye shadow, and the beautiful pair of eyes you laid upon, "I had no participation other than following you, my lady."

She pressed her smile, and even then she got closer ever so slowly, "Well, my dear, I made a good choice. And, draga, it's Alcina to you only." before pulling you in a soft kiss. That moment, you felt light-headed, you felt your heart rate go up by the second and hoping never to forget what happened before you felt her whip away. The rush of air hitting your body like whiplash as you heard it. A scream, and not just any scream you became accustomed. Your eyes widen in fear and concern as you sat up.

Alcina was already up and getting her robe on, helping you with the gown. She wasn't worried about you two anymore, but Ezekiel and it showed.

You felt her hands shiver as you looked up at her, "Go, I'll follow you."

And she didn't hesitate to go.

~~~~

Oh no a cliffhanger?! Oh but you knew already, welp, until tomorrow! Ta-ta!~

[musette22]

Burning For You

Title: Burning For You Pairing: Chris Evans x Sebastian Stan (Evanstan) Rating: Teen and up Word count: 3.1k A/N: Written for Evanstan Week day 6, a late fill for the Alternate Universe prompt. This silly piece of fluff is entirely inspired by the wonder that is the Mountain Lodge candle from the Yankee Candle Company. Yes, the one that inspired this iconic Tumblr post. The one that smells like Chris Evans. 

I was lucky enough to receive one as a gift from the wonderful @howdoyousleep3 and my life hasn't been the same since I smelled it for the first time. Thank you for introducing me to such delights baby K, ilyyy 💖 Also BIG thank you to the @evanstanweek​ team and to my beautiful beta @rainbowsandcoconut who came up with the outline for this fic when I told her my idea! Love you, boo 😘

Summary: Evanstan AU. Sebastian gets a little carried away when raving about the Mountain Lodge candle to a friend. It leads to an unexpected, fragrant encounter.

Read on AO3

“Listen, D. You’ve gotta smell this candle.” Sebastian leans in closer, nearly knocking over his - third - glass of red. “You know I’m not usually a scented candle kinda guy, but this one…” He closes his eyes and tips back his head, an expression of pure bliss on his face. “Incredible. Glorious. Magnificent.”

“You look like you’re about to pull a Meg Ryan in When Harry met Sally over there, Seb.”

Sebastian straightens, giving Deirdre a meaningful look across the table at the low-key SoHo bar they’re having drinks at. “You kid, but I’m this close. It’s that good, not even exaggerating.”

“Sure you’re not,” Deirdre huffs, lifting her glass and taking a sizeable gulp of her Cosmopolitan.

“Fine, don’t believe me,” Sebastian shrugs. “You know, I pity you for not having experienced the delights of the Mountain Lodge candle, really. If you knew what it smelled like, you’d be singing its praises too, believe me.”

Deirdre rolls her eyes good-naturedly. “Fine, I’ll bite. What does it smell like, Sebastian, pray tell.”

Sebastian sits up eagerly. “It smells…” he starts, “like an evening in that lodge in the Green Mountains we rented with the others a couple of years ago. Remember that? How it felt to relax by the fire after a long day of hiking, the scent of cedarwood and toasted marshmallows in the air?”

“Hmmm,” Deirdre agrees. “That was nice, yeah. But hardly worth busting a nut over, I’d say.”

Sebastian holds up a single finger. “I'm not done. Because this candle doesn’t just smell like the lodge, it also smells like the lumberjack living at the lodge.”

Deirdre frowns. “There was no lumberjack living at the –”

“The metaphorical lumberjack, D, god. Work with me here a little.”

“Oh right, okay. Gotcha.”

“It smells,” Sebastian continues, undeterred, “like soft, worn flannel. Like beard oil and a hint of clean sweat. It smells like a big, strong, gorgeous man who just got done hewing a ginormous tree with his massive axe and cutting it down into firewood, which he’s now using to light the very fireplace in front of which he’ll make sweet, sweet love to you, on the rug that’s actually the skin of a bear that attacked his rescue dog and which this man fought off and killed with his own bare hands.”

“Whooofffff,” Deirdre says, fanning herself with a napkin. “Fine, I’m starting to see the attraction.”

“It smells…” Sebastian goes on, pausing for dramatic effect before delivering his clincher, “like Chris Evans.”

There’s a beat of silence, and then Deirdre groans loudly, sagging back in her chair. “Ughh, shoulda known this was coming. For chrissake, Sebastian, you literally cannot go even one night without bringing up Chris Evans, can you?”

“I totally can,” Sebastian protests, like the mature, professional, Times-employed literary critic he is. “But you don’t understand, D. This candle, it’s actually like they bottled the very essence of Chris Evans and then infused a candle with it. It’s life-changing.”

“Yeah, yeah, you have a permanent boner for Chris Evans, you wanna marry him and have his little bearded babies, tell me something I don’t know,” Deirdre sighs, draining the last of her drink and immediately starting to look around for the waiter to order a new one. Distantly, Sebastian notices the song playing in the background changing to The Smith’s ‘Please, Please, Please, Let Me Get What I Want'. Ah, if only.

“Listen to me,” Sebastian insists, unconsciously starting to speak louder, like he’s some small-town preacher trying to make his ignorant clergy see the light. “Deirdre, darling, you’re one of my oldest friends. I wouldn’t lie to you. I swear, when you smell this candle, you too will feel like you’re being engulfed in the embrace of the brilliant, spectacular, totally unique smokeshow that goes by the name of Chris Evans. It’s as if the man himself is wrapping those huge, muscled arms of his around you, crushing you to his wide chest as you tuck your face into the crook of his neck while his beard brushes your temple and you inhale his masculine scent of cologne, sex and clean, honest sweat, I swear to god – D, are you even listening?”

At some point during the last part of Sebastian’s homily, Deirdre’s eyes drifted to a point over his right shoulder and got stuck there.

“Did you just- zone out?” Sebastian asks indignantly, waving a hand in front of her face. She doesn’t even blink. “Hello? Earth to Deirdre.”

“Seb,” Deirdre says, still not looking at Sebastian.

“Oh, I see,” Sebastian barrels on. “Here I am, pouring my heart out, telling you I found a candle that smells exactly like the man of my dreams and you’re just… What are you doing, actually? Are you okay?”

At this point, Deirdre’s eyes have gone comically round, mouth hanging open just a little. “Sebastian,” she repeats, more urgently now – and just as he’s turning his head to find out what put that dumbfounded look on her face, someone nearby clears their throat.

Sebastian startles, looking up at the man who’s appeared next to their table.

“Hi,” the man says in a deep, rich voice.

A deep, rich voice that Sebastian knows all too well. A deep, rich voice that belongs to none other than Chris Evans, Hollywood heartthrob and actual smokeshow, himself.

Oh.

Sebastian gapes while Chris, dressed in dark wash jeans, a red flannel shirt and a brown shearling jacket, smiles at him patiently. He’s all soft-looking beard and strong nose and bulging biceps and long, lean legs, and Sebastian has died and gone to heaven.

“I’m sorry for interrupting,” Chris says, “but was just sitting a table over and I couldn’t help but overhear.”

And from one moment to the next, Sebastian crashes forcefully back to earth. His whole body goes cold, the blood draining from his face so quickly he feels dizzy with it.

Fuck. No. No, no, no. This can’t be happening. There is no way this is actually happening.

Except it is.

Sebastian had just been extremely, loudly and publicly horny about the very guy that’s standing next to him right now. The guy who is no doubt about to give Sebastian a piece of his mind at best, and a right hook to the jaw at worst. And honestly, he’d deserve it.

Since Sebastian wouldn’t even know where to begin apologizing, he says nothing. Just keeps staring at Chris in ever-growing horror, his pulse pounding in his ears so loudly it almost drowns out the miserable sound of Morrissey still pleading in the background.

Chris clears his throat. “So,” he says, bringing up a hand to rub the back of his neck. “This candle smells like me, huh?”

Sebastian groans, hiding his face in his hands. “Shit. Fuck. I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean- Oh my god, please, please, please just forget you heard any of that.”

“Why would I want to do that?”

Puzzled, Sebastian chances a glance at Chris from between his fingers. He’s partly still covering his face out of embarrassment, and partly because Chris is so gorgeous in real life that Sebastian isn’t sure he could look at him directly without spontaneously combusting. It’s like staring at the fucking sun. He doesn’t seem too angry, though, thank god. In fact, there’s an amused twinkle in his blue eyes that makes Sebastian’s shoulders relax infinitesimally.

“Because it was incredibly inappropriate?” Sebastian suggests, honestly a bit confused about having to explain this to him.

“I don’t know,” Chris shrugs. “It sounded pretty great. Kinda want to smell it for myself now.”

For some unfathomable reason – probably because unexpectedly seeing his long-time celebrity crush in the flesh broke his brain, Sebastian blurts out, “Oh, I don’t have it with me. It’s back at my apartment.”

Slowly, Chris raises a single eyebrow. The look sends a shiver straight down Sebastian’s spine, from the crown of his head right down to his toes. “Is it now?”

“Yeah,” Sebastian replies breathlessly.

Chris’s gaze drops down to Sebastian’s brown leather boots before slowly travelling back up to his face. “I gotta say, normally someone would at least have to buy me dinner first, but…” He trails off, looking Sebastian straight in the eye before finishing, “I am really curious about this candle.”

“You are?” Sebastian says dumbly, and then “Ow!” when Deirdre delivers an impressively precise kick to his shin under the table. He turns to give her a betrayed look, but when he meets her eyes, with which she’s clearly trying very hard to communicate something to him, he finally catches on. “Oh!” Sebastian whips back around to Chris, staring at him with wide, disbelieving eyes. “I- you- you mean like…” He swallows hard. “You wanna come back to my place to, uh, smell the candle?”

Although Chris’s expression remains amused, there’s a hint of trepidation there as well. “Sure,” he says, smiling crookedly. “If… that’s something you’re up for?”

Sebastian’s mind races. The way he sees it, there are two possibilities. Either Chris Evans is actually standing here in the flesh, propositioning him, or Sebastian hit his head in the bathroom earlier and is actually just lying on the dirty tile floor, hallucinating as a result of severe head trauma. The second option seems by far the most likely, but then, his shin does hurt like a sonuvabitch.

Well, fuck.

Sebastian clears his throat and sits up straighter, running a hand through his longish hair. “I mean, yeah, that’s- wow. That. That would be okay with me, uh huh. You mean like, now?”

“If that works for you?”

Without thinking, Sebastian says, “Well, I’m here with Deirdre –” before letting out another sharp yelp as said Deirdre crushes his toes under her heel. “Jesus, D!”

Deirdre ignores him. “Ohhh, would you look at the time,” she exclaims, holding up her wrist which very much doesn’t have a watch on it. “Boy, it’s much later than I thought. I really oughta get going, early start tomorrow.” She yawns theatrically, then grabs her purse and throws down two twenties on the table. “It was lovely seeing you, Sebastian, Chris… Evans,” she adds, with a wooden nod in Chris’s direction. “Hope you two have a lovely evening, bye now!”

And she’s gone.

They both stare after her for a second, and then Chris chuckles – a low sound that reverberates pleasantly in Sebastian’s chest. “Well,” Chris says, turning back towards him. “It’s nice to meet you, Sebastian.” He holds out his hand. “I’m Chris.”

Sebastian stands, taking Chris’s hand, which is warm and big and ever so slightly calloused, and exactly like Sebastian always imagined. “Yeah, I know,” he says, because he’s cool like that. And then, in a show of bravura that surprises even himself, Sebastian holds Chris’s gaze, tilts his head a fraction, and says, “So uh, my place?”

Chris smiles, casually dropping a few bills on the table, more than enough to cover their drinks, before taking a step to the side to let Sebastian pass. “Lead the way,” he says, lightly resting his hand on the small of Sebastian’s back as they make their way towards the exit.

🔥 🔥 🔥 🔥 🔥

It’s only once they’re outside and the cold February night air manages to cool down Sebastian’s overheated brain somewhat that it occurs to him to ask if Chris wasn’t at the bar with anyone.

“I met a friend for drinks but he just left,” Chris explains. “I was just waiting for the bill when I overheard you guys.”

“And you’re sure you don’t have any other plans?” Sebastian asks, because he’s nothing if not a self-sabotaging idiot.

They’re still standing outside the bar, the golden light radiating from a nearby lamppost decorated with a cluster of luminous orbs making Chris look softer, somehow. Still a Hollywood heartthrob, but also charmingly human. Unfortunately, it does absolutely nothing to make Sebastian any less infatuated. If anything, it only endears Chris to him more, which he really didn’t think was possible.

“Not really, no,” Chris replies, amusement in his tone. “I was just gonna go back to my hotel and read for a bit.”

Sebastian perks up at the mention of his area of expertise. “Oh, yeah? What’re you reading?”

“I haven’t started it yet, but it’s this history of space travel? I read a great review of it in the Times the other day, so I thought I’d give it a go.” With a self-deprecating smile, Chris adds, “I’m kind of a space nerd.”

Sebastian blinks. “Not ‘To Infinity and Beyond’, by any chance?”

“That’s the one,” Chris confirms. “You know it?”

“I wrote the review.”

Chris’s eyes go round. “You did not.”

In lieu of replying, Sebastian digs up his wallet from his pocket, takes out his Times-employee card and holds it up for Chris’s inspection.

“Huh,” Chris says, studying the card. “What are the odds.” When his eyes turn back to Sebastian’s, he suddenly breaks out into a grin, wide and boyish. “Well, I guess that explains a thing or two.”

“How do you mean?” Sebastian frowns.

“I mean, that review was brilliantly written so you clearly have a way with words.” With a sly look, Chris goes on, “which explains your colorful descriptions of that candle earlier. The masculine scent of cologne, sex and clean, honest sweat was especially vivid.”

Sebastian groans, dragging a hand down over his face. “Jesus Christ, this is so embarrassing.”

Chris eyes shine with genuine mirth as he laughs, “Hey, come on, don’t worry about it.” He takes a step closer, ducking his head to try and catch Sebastian’s eyes, which are now firmly fixed on the pavement in an attempt to conjure up a hole to swallow him. “Call me a narcissist, but I didn’t exactly hate overhearing a gorgeous guy describing me as the man of his dreams.”

“Oh god,” Sebastian mutters, feeling himself turn a fetching shade of crimson. Trying to hide his blush, he turns around abruptly and nearly walks into the lamppost.

Chris, his savior, his knight in shining armor, manages to grab him by the back of his coat just in time to avoid the imminent collision. Sebastian still stumbles, but strong, capable arms wrapping securely around his waist keep him upright.

Carefully, Sebastian turns in Chris’s embrace so they’re facing each other, though he can’t quite make himself look Chris in the eye yet. “I’m guessing you caught on to this by now,” Sebastian tells the St Christopher pendant resting on Chris’s sternum, “but I’m kind of a disaster.”

Chris just hums, lifting a hand to tilt up Sebastian’s chin with his index finger, a small smile playing on his lips. “A beautiful one, though,” he whispers into the negligible space between them, before he closes that space and presses soft, full lips to Sebastian’s own.

Sebastian can’t suppress the small sound that escapes him when their lips meet, eyes closing on instinct as he lets himself sink into the kiss. Lets Chris take charge and coax open Sebastian’s mouth by running the tip of his tongue along the seam of his lips. Sebastian doesn’t think twice about letting him in. When their tongues touch, sweet and soft and languid, he trembles, pressing closer. Chris tastes a little like beer, and while Sebastian’s never been overly fond of beer, it takes approximately two seconds of being kissed by the hottest man on the planet for it to magically turn into Sebastian’s new favorite taste. Ever.

The kiss starts off slow; a little cautious maybe, as if Chris still isn’t entirely sure it’s welcomed. But then Sebastian’s hands find their way to Chris’s waist, fingers gripping tightly, and Chris slides a hand into Sebastian’s hair, angling his head gently to the left to deepen the kiss – and suddenly, Sebastian’s entire body feels like it’s on fire. He moans, relishing the feel of Chris's soft beard scratching at his clean-shaven cheeks, and way Chris takes control of the kiss, like something right out of every embarrassing fantasy he's ever had.

When Chris hums against his lips, as if he’s enjoying this just as much as Sebastian is, Sebastian’s knees go all weak and useless. It’s a good thing that Chris is there, tightening his left arm around his waist and pulling him more securely against the hard lines of his own body – which actually doesn’t do a thing to help Sebastian’s current knee situation. He whimpers, curling his hands into the fabric of Chris’s coat to anchor himself.

When Chris finally breaks the kiss, he doesn’t go far. His breathing has deepened, warm puffs of air caressing Sebastian’s tingling, wet lips. Sebastian exhales shakily. The way his head is spinning might be partially due to the wine, but it's definitely mostly because of Chris sweeping him off his feet with his smooth, movie star ways.

Needing a moment to gain his composure before he speaks, Sebastian buries his face in the crook of Chris’s neck, taking a deep, steadying breath –

Oh.

“I fucking knew it,” he groans.

Sebastian feels rather than hears Chris’s quiet laugh; feels the vibrations of it shake his broad chest under Sebastian’s palms. “Yeah? Do I really smell like your candle?”

“Better,” Sebastian mutters. On instinct, he presses his lips against Chris’s exposed neck, eliciting a shiver from him.

“You know,” Chris rumbles into Sebastian’s ear. “I still think I need to smell this magical thing for myself. Make sure you’re not just flattering me to get into my pants, y'know?”

Christ.

“Yeah,” Sebastian nods. “Definitely, good thinking. Empirical evidence is paramount. In fact, it’s totally possible I’m just mixing things up right now because my brain’s all” – he makes a poof motion with his hands, trusting Chris will get his drift – “so I think maybe I’ll need to do some comparative research.”

Chris tilts his head in though. “Hands-on research?”

“I think that’s best, yes,” Sebastian concurs.

“Right. Well, out of the two of us, you’re definitely the higher educated one, so I’m just gonna take your word for that.” After a beat, Chris adds, “as long as I get to test a theory or two of my own.”

“Oh?” Sebastian licks his lips. “Such as?”

The wicked glint in Chris’s eyes is the only warning he gets before Chris is sliding his hand back into Sebastian’s hair and giving it a firm, experimental tug.

“Ah,” Sebastian breathes, his eyelids fluttering, the blood rushing south so fast he feels dizzy – again.

Chris grins smugly. “Such as that.”

“Okay,” Sebastian croaks. “Yeah, that seems fair.” Wasting no more time, he reaches out to grab Chris’s free hand and starts to pull him along the pavement in the direction of his apartment.

Chris, laughing as he squeezes Sebastian’s hand, follows closely behind.  

🔥 🔥 🔥 🔥 🔥

Read on AO3

[remakethestars]

CABIN 10 — APHRODITE

Headcanons.

❝I want to apologize to all the women I have called pretty before I’ve called them intelligent or brave. I am sorry I made it sound as though something as simple as what you’re born with is the most you have to be proud of when your spirit has crushed mountains. From now on, I will say things like, ‘You are resilient,’ or, ‘You are extraordinary.’ Not because I don’t think you’re pretty. But because you are so much more than that.❞ 

— Rupi Kaur

Headcanon masterlist.

They’re the camp hairdressers. You need a trim? You want it cut? You want it died? You want to shave it all off? Hit ‘em up.

The type of people that will straight-up chop their hair if it doesn't match their outfit. Somehow, it always works out? I'm looking at Micarah Tewers.

They also run a secret ear piercing — or anything else you need to pierce — parlor.

Okay, but consider: children of Aphrodite that grow up to be models.

They can charm speak the photographers into letting them pick their own poses & not make them do seductive ones if they’re not comfortable with them.

Some create clothing lines that represent sustainable fashion & have big names but small carbon footprints.

Some are spies.

Think about it! They know how to switch subtle bits of their personality to fit in with everyone they come across, when & when not to use their charm.

The hide outfits under other outfits & can slip one off in public to reveal the other & lose a tail.

And they'd probably be great at disguise makeup. Add a prosthetic chin, contour their nose differently, pull off their wig, & they're a completely different person.

Plus, their combat training at C.H.B. makes them the perfect agent.

The floor next to their bunk is scattered with fabric cuttings, pins, needles, their sewing machine, serger, & measuring tape.

The number of times someone's gotten a needle or pin in their foot's a tad concerning.

Will absolutely not wear a top with an overstitched collar. Fast fashion is so tacky! Understitch is the way to go, the staple of a quality garment.

Vintage is better. Not because it's in style (that's a plus, though), but because the seams are big enough for you to let out, & it's made to last.

Experts at thrifting. Not just 'cause it's trendy or whatever, but because they're excellent at upcycling & far too many perfectly good clothes go into the land fill each year.

Make stunning dresses out of Good Will table cloths & curtains.

Or stitch two items together into one better whole.

They iron their clothes; they're not animals.

Really good at getting stains out?

Totally in on the corset bustier top trend, but they're using spiral steel boning in place of zip-ties. Because, again, they want things to last & they're not tacky.

Pass each other tips. Like to tuck your top into your tights to avoid the bulge under your skirt.

Some found big-name, organic makeup companies that don't test on animals. They use packaging that can be recycled or that's biodegradable.

Borrow their clothes, sure, whatever, but double-dip in their makeup & die. The bacteria will give them acne. (Or is it the oils? Either way, you'll perish.)

Happy to drop their skincare routine, though.

You need to cover up that tattoo you got from C7? They got you.

Flawless makeup on a budget. Expensive doesn't always mean better.

They're taking you to the pool for a first date? Take a seat, C10 knows just the stuff. They use what Disney Princesses use.

Can guess the right shade of foundation/lipstick for you on the first couple tries.

A lot of them invest in magnetic lashes because glue's a b¡tch.

Reusable makeup wipes.

Rick says C10 kids just sit around the lake & check their reflection, but consider: working out gets them their dream bod. So, yes, they do, in fact, train.

They just do it with intricate braids/hair gel & stylish sportwear.

And if a potential partner finds it unattractive that they’re “too muscly,” they’re no longer a potential partner.

Weapons disguised as jewelry or chapstick/lipstick.

Thalia had a mace canister that turned into a spear, & I gotta say, I.D.K. how she planned to get that through security. Imagine, alternatively, a tube that appears to be full of bright red lipstick when the T.S.A. agent opens it, but actually turns into a spear when opened by a half-blood.

(I have a headcanon that Riptide would just be a pen in the hands of a mortal. Bounced around for years as random objects until Poseidon nabbed it & took it to Chiron — recall that pen you lost?)

A pink, velvet choker that turns into a kopis with a dove embossed in the handle.

Many choose to train in heels. Might as well wear in training what they’ll be wearing when attacked in the street.

They’ve got no time for internalized misogyny. 

“C10′s weak ‘cause they like being pretty!” Good way to lose a kneecap, Annabeth. You’ve grown up in this camp, you knew Selina, & you should know better.

They confront Piper’s misogyny pretty early on after The Lost Hero, but Piper still takes some time to get over her bias toward pink.

Are we not gonna talk about Rick’s fashion choices for Piper throughout the series? “She looks so fashionable.” To whom, Rick? To whom?

You couldn’t’ve done a little internet surfing just to see what was in style? I never leave the house in anything but jeans, Converse, & a graphic t-shirt from Walmart, & even I know she’s dressed like a middle-schooler! Probably because that’s how I dressed in middle-school… That’s not the point.

The point is just because a character likes makeup or fashion or the color pink, doesn’t mean they can’t/won’t fight for their lives & the lives of their friends if/when the time comes. And it doesn’t mean that they’re stupid or judgmental.

I don’t know a lot about makeup. Hades, I don’t even wear makeup — you can’t rub your eyes or scratch your face; it would drive me crazy. I don’t know a lot about fashion either. I don’t understand it, but I can respect it.

❝‘Jesus,’ Sara says as Branley walks past us. ‘Too cold to show off cleavage, so instead she goes for jeans so tight I can see her thong.’ ‘She looks nice,’ I say, and she does. Branley always looks put together in a way that tells me she spends hours in front of a mirror before going outside. And while I don’t understand that, I can respect it.❞

— Alex Craft, Mindy McGinnis’s The Female of the Species

According to The Lost Hero, all children of Aphrodite intuitively speak French. Cool, cool, cool — but consider, all of them also intuitively speak the language of flowers. 

They see a red rose, and they just know it symbolizes love & passion. They see an orange lily, to contrast, & they know it symbolizes hatred. 

There’s a copy of The Language of Flowers in their cabin, and it’s full of annotations, like, So-and-so gave these to so-and-so for Valentines Day! And, So-and-so gave these to so-and-so after their kiss on the Fourth of July; they obviously didn’t do their research! 

They work together with C4 (Demeter) to provide flowers for funerals & the like.

C10 bookshelves also contain a lot of romance novels. 

Beaten up copies of Pride & Prejudice & The Fault in Our Stars with faded highlighter over the beautiful lines & annotations in the margins.

The outside walls are a dusty pink, & the wood’s stained a dark brown that goes surprisingly well with the pink.

Inside, the walls are covered in faded wallpaper.

The southwest wall has a bay window with extra storage in the seat. (There’s not a body in there; they swear.)

(That’s an Arsenic & Old Lace reference, for you youngsters.)

The curtains have one chiffon layer closer to the window & a thicker floral fabric for inside. The thick curtains are replaced based on the season & whether or not someone’s decided to make a romper out of them.

They have a real bell jar with a real rose in front of the window. Legend has it it’s from Aphrodite herself.

Said window is a stained glass image of a dove.

The chaise lounge was probably beautiful when it was brought it, but it��s got fingernail polish & makeup stains on it now. Honestly, someone should really have that thing cleaned.

As you might have noticed, I placed a gif of swans at the top instead of a fancast for Aphrodite. This is because I think, as I believe most Percy Jackson fans do, multiple people should play her. I'd cast Arden Cho, Camila Mendes, Candice Patton, Diane Kruger, & Gal Gadot to start with.

Visit my Aphrodite cabin Pinterest board or my headcanon masterlist.

DISCLAIMER ━━━ I know I got a tad political with this one, but I didn’t & don’t intend to offend anyone. ━━━ These headcanons are what I consider to be canon in my fanfictions. They may be others’s headcanons I’ve subconsciously filed away in my noggin. If one’s yours and you want it removed or credited, please send me your post and let me know.

[roast-ifs]

January 2021 Drabble Request #1

Sorry I’ve been slow on posting these ones lol it’s been....so busy ;A;

Prompt: “All my best parts come from you.” & "And even if you don’t feel the same, that’s okay - I’m always going to be here for you." w/Nico

You like to think that you didn’t change much after you woke up from that coma. Beyond the horrible memories, the bruises, the experiments. You want to believe that the Yard didn’t change you from who you really are.

But then, you know you’d be lying.

Because when you got out on the bitter autumn day you were just an angry, gnashing, fierce thing filled with hate and fear.

You were afraid. Afraid to feel anything besides the pain of your trauma, afraid to recover, to get better, because that would belittle it. Recovering would make what you went through not enough. What’s the point if it doesn’t last? What’s the point if you’re not filled with dread for every dream? If you’re not feeling those scientists and their marks on your body every day for the rest of your life?

It’s taken a lot of time and patience and cajoling from Nico for you to accept that it doesn’t have to be that way. 

But that doesn’t mean that it doesn’t come crawling back up from the darkness of your soul. You’re stained, you know it. Tainted. Broken, and stuck back together uglier than you were before. And you’ve changed so much. The Yard changed you. And it’s not fucking fair.

You don’t understand what Nico could possibly see in you after seeing all of your worst parts on display. Like a vulture you’ve picked at the flesh of Nico’s kindness and patience, cannibalizing him, stealing his best features to assume them as your own like a sick mask of stitched together pieces trying to show the world a keenly flagrant lie. You’re worthless without these pieces of someone so much better than you.

There’s a knocking sound.

You don’t know where it’s coming from.

Knock.

Knock.

Knock.

“Hey,” You jerk up, slamming your back into the wall--knock--and look straight into Nico’s deep brown eyes, wide with fright softening suddenly at the sight of you, “There you are.”

There you are.

Where did you go?

You’re sprawled on the floor in the corner of your room, with blankets torn to shreds and wind and rain rattling against the window. It’s loud, cacophonous, and pitch black both inside and outside your little train car speeding down the tracks in an inky night swallowing you all whole.

You must’ve had a nightmare.

“What are you-” your mouth is dry, you have to swallow, had you been screaming? You don’t… you don’t remember. Must’ve been delirious. Must’ve been locked in a memory reliving your trauma because it was starting to fade again. Re-open the wounds when they start to scab over. You really must be so pathetic to wound yourself in such a way, even subconsciously.

“What are you doing here?” You manage to rasp as Nico helps you to your feet. Your knees wobble, your feet are bare and cold and you feel clammy, drained. He gets you back onto your bed and silently lights a lamp on your bedside table--an oil lamp.

The electricity must be out.

Nico doesn’t answer you, bending to pick up your blankets and gingerly wrap them around you. He presses the back of his hand against your forehead. You’re too tired to fight, to complain about Nico being in your room without your permission… taking care of you. Like you haven’t been the worst pain in his side since day one. Like you haven’t argued day in and day out, picking him apart to find his worst memories and wield them against him, all because he won’t give you yours.

And you feel heavy with the rotten personality you’ve developed for him. Is it a character you’ve made or one you’ve become?

“You’re drifting off again,” you start, it almost feels like you’re trying to pull your soul back into your body--except it’s made of cats that don’t want to be contained.

“I know, I’m sorry.” You sigh, hanging your head tiredly.

“You don’t need to apologize.” Nico returns quietly, angling to try and get you to look at him but… but you can’t. You don’t want to look at someone you’ve caused so much pain.

He sighs, not annoyed, just sad, as he’s knelt in front of you on the creaky cold floorboards of your compartment.

Instead of pushing the point he reaches out into the darkness by your bed--his satchel. He came prepared.

You furrow your brows, “What are-” Nico pulls a length of bandage from his satchel, picking up your hand to start wrapping your fingers.

Skin cracked, oozing, but freshly cleaned--when did he--when did you? You look up at the wall across from you and see slashes in the wallpaper, curling at the edges in the obvious shape of nails.

It must’ve been the dark room dream again. You flinch and let your head drop again, letting Nico work in silence.

He finished up one hand and then the next, bandaging you in complete silence and concentration and you do nothing but watch. Feel how Nico cradles your hands, cups your fingers numb in the cold like you’re the most delicate thing. Fragile, but precious.

“All my best parts come from you.” You utter in the quiet of the rain slamming against your window--it dims into the background, a distant whitenoise when Nico blinks and looks up at you in surprise.

“What do you mean?” His voice is so quiet. Soft. Painful to listen to with all the care that’s laden into it.

“I know… I know I don’t have many. Good qualities, I mean.” You explain distantly, just letting your mouth run, too tired to shut yourself up, too tired to keep up the charade of hate when you’re in so much pain.

“You’re so patient with me, you take care of me, whatever decent quality I could possibly have--it’s from you.” You’re shocked when a hot tear drops down your cheek.

“I’m awful to you. All the time. Every day. I can’t--how could you possibly stand me?” You’re outright crying now, digging your bruised palms into your eyes, your shoulders shaking with the racking of sobs you’re trying to keep down. Keep away. None of that. No exposed vulnerability. You’re not worth that.

You suck in a sharp breath when Nico pulls your hands away, gently, oh so gently, and cradles your cheek, making you look, his warm hands framing your face so you can see and witness his confession.

“Because I care about you.” Nico says, stern, his voice cracking like glass, “And even if you don’t feel the same, that’s okay, because I’m always going to be here for you-” he stops, staring at you, then flinches and lets go, cleaning up his supplies with such rigid fashion you feel like you’ve missed something.

“Nico?” You don’t mean for your voice to sound so weak, you shouldn’t have said anything knowing that one word would break you up again, the tears renewed--you hide behind your hands, elbows on your knees and hunched over in a picture of torment. You don’t want to cry anymore dammit but they’re hot on your skin and in your eyes and staining Nico’s prim dressings he’d just done for you.

“Hey, no, come here.” Nico tuts, pulling you in to wrap you up in his arms and you can’t help but throw yours around him too, burying your face into his neck, the lightning drowning your wails.

But not to Nico. Nico hears everything.

“I’m sorry.” He murmurs into your darkness, “It’s just--it’s hard to make that promise again-” again, “-I didn’t… I couldn’t keep it last time and look what’s happened to you.”

“It wasn’t your fault.” You protest, craning to see Nico’s face.

He lets you, lets you see the soft smile aching with regret, “Maybe.” He says it like he doesn’t believe it, “But it wasn’t your fault either.”

Your throat works, trying to protest, to insist, to say something. But nothing comes out. Nico shakes his head, “It’s alright.”

“It’s not though.”

He sighs, defeated, but doesn’t argue. He doesn’t believe you. Just as much as you believe him. It wasn’t your fault.

But how could you possibly know that when you can’t remember it?

He stays with you until the rain stops and then some, keeping the nightmares away and your battered fingers cradled from harm. You don’t say anything, neither does he. You’re afraid that, in the morning, you’ll both pretend that nothing ever happened.

[sibillascribbles08]

Dareth and ten year old Toby

Dareth yawned, begging his coffee to kick in as he took another long sip. He went to bed at a decent hour, only to be awoken by the kid sneaking into his room. Of course he bolted as soon as he was spotted, hiding back in his own room that he’d occupied for almost a month now.

A month. They picked that kid up in the garage almost a month ago and he still wouldn’t come out. Dareth wasn’t sure what to do with him anymore. He wouldn’t throw him out, of course not, but maybe it was time to find another place to put him.

One more sip of coffee. He didn’t normally drink it black but he tricked himself into believing it would work better that way. Dareth set the mug down and sighed.

The kid stood next to his chair.

Dareth jerked, almost flinging coffee across the room.

At least that woke him up.

“Wh--kid?” Dareth looked at him. “What are you doing down here?”

The kid stared at him, glaring, always glaring. If Dareth wasn’t aware he could pick the kid up with one hand he might find it intimidating.

“You’re talking.” The kid said.

“Uh...”

“You never talked before. Why now?” He pointed.

Dareth studied his hands while he could. His fingernails weren’t long but they were ragged, likely being chewed on, but there was still some dirt underneath. He could see a film of dust and old sweat on his skin as well, not even speaking about his hair. Probably only shiny from natural oils.

But getting him to come out of his room had taken a month how long would it take to get him to take a bath?

The kid puffed out his cheeks. “Answer me!”

Dareth sighed, his exhaustion coming back. “Me and Ronin trade the ability to speak sometimes.”

“Huh?” The kid lowered his hand and stepped back, eyes wide. “What? How?”

“Now that, is a personal question.” Dareth pointed back before drinking more coffee. “And since you aren’t inclined to tell me anything about yourself, I think I’ll do the same.”

The pouting face returned, hands clenched at his sides. Dareth just decided to pretend he wasn’t paying attention.

“What is that?”

He glanced over this time to see the kid pointing at his mug.

“Coffee.” Dareth said.

“Co-ffee.” The kid repeated the word slowly, moving his mouth with each syllable like he’d never heard it before. “What’s coffee.”

“Drink that helps me wake up.”

“Um... can I see it?”

Dareth blinked at him a few times before he held the mug out. The kid flinched at first, stepping away, but then crept forward and leaned over the cup. His nostrils moved before his nose scrunched up.

“Ew.” He covered his face and stepped back. “Smells bad.”

“You learn to love it.” Dareth finished it off. “You hungry kid? Want breakfast?”

Dareth stood. The kid scurried away, ducking behind a chair. Dareth just watched him, waiting, until he finally crept back out.

“You want some eggs? Bacon?”

“Ba-con... eggs... what are those?”

Dareth’s heart stuttered. “Huh? You don’t know?”

The kid shook his head. “What are those things you always put outside my room?”

“A... a sandwich?”

He nodded. “I want one of those.”

Dareth tried not to let his panic show. Kid didn’t even know what a sandwich was? What eggs were? “Well, hang on. Sandwiches aren’t always breakfast food. I just took those because I figured it’d be easiest to eat.” And less clean up later, but he didn’t say that. “Why not try something new?”

Pouty face. “But sandwiches are my favorite.”

“Kid, you don’t even know what eggs are. How do you know those won’t be your favorite.”

It seemed to present quite the dilemma. The kid almost seemed distressed, eyes darting around.

“Look, I’ll cut you a deal.” Dareth put his hands in the pockets of his sweat pants. “I’ll make some breakfast and if you don’t like any of it I’ll make a sandwich instead.”

“Um... okay.”

With that out of the way, Dareth headed into the kitchen. He opened the main fridge, snatching up half a dozen eggs, a package of ground sausage and a package of bacon. Simple, not too crazy. He almost worried he’d blow the kid’s mind if he tried to make pancakes or waffles.

He set the food aside as he turned on the griddle. They had a smaller home kitchen upstairs, but Dareth just kept using the one down here. Between him, Ronin, Harumi, the kid, and sometimes a whole grizzly bear, it was worth it just to cook in bulk.

The kid came into the kitchen, glancing around. Dareth let him wander but kept half an eye to make sure he didn’t pick up something dangerous.

“What... what are those for?” The kid sounded terrified as he pointed to the large sinks in the back. Three in a row all with faucets and a hanging spray hose.

“Washing dishes.” Dareth grabbed a bowl and started cracking eggs.

That got the child’s attention. That startled look over came his face and he shuffled closer to watch. “What is that?”

“These,” Dareth cracked another, “are the eggs. The shell isn’t edible so you break them open to get the good stuff.” When he emptied them all he let the kid look into the bowl.

Another look of disgust. “Looks gross.”

“Eh, there’s not really a way to make eggs look not gross.” Dareth grabbed a whisk and started to beat them. Scrambled eggs always were the best way to introduce someone to them, in his experience. At least Harumi and Ronin weren’t too picky about how they were cooked.

He tossed in some pepper and salt, though not a lot in case the kid wound up not liking it. After tossing some butter on the griddle and letting it melt down, he poured the egg mixture on top.

They hissed when they met the hot metal. The kid jumped, but didn’t run.

Dareth flashed a smile at him. He grabbed two short hand spatulas off the wall and began to push the eggs around on the griddle. Sometimes he’d cut through them, other times he’d flip them entirely.

When the eggs were cooked he scooped them up and set them aside on a plate. Next came the bacon and sausage. He laid out the strips on the back of the griddle before dumping the whole container of sausage. Once again he used the spatulas to separate it and shape them into smaller patties.

While it was cooking he flipped the spatula in his hand and winked at the kid. For a second he swore he saw a smile.

Pyrite chose then to come inside. The smell of cooking meat must have inticed him to wake up. The kid looked at the bear wide eyed, curious, but not at all frightened.

“Morning buddy. You mind if the kid pets you?” Dareth gestured. “Looks like he wants to.”

“That’s fine.” Pyrite yawned, showing his teeth. “Just not the snout.”

“He says you can give him a pat, kid.” Dareth nodded. “Just not on the nose.”

“You can talk to him?” The kid gasped. He slowly approached the bear, hand out. His small hand practically vanished in Pyrite’s dense fur.

“Sure can. I can talk to the rats too. They talk about you sometimes.”

“What? No fair.” His voice turned into a mumble. “I wanna talk to them.”

Dareth laughed and flipped the bacon. “Hang out long enough maybe I’ll give you some pointers.

The kid sat on the floor with Pyrite while Dareth finished cooking. The bear gave him a few sniffs, making some humming noises that Dareth wasn’t fond of. It usually meant he found something unusual, but no point in asking about it right now.

“Alright.” Dareth made up two plates before piling some extras in a bowl for Pyrite. “Lets head back to the table, huh?”

He let them leave first--because stepping over Pyrite was more trouble than it was worth--and set the plates on the table before putting the bowl on the floor.

“Uh, what do you want to drink, kid? Milk? Juice?”

Once again, the kid stared at him, apparently not knowing what those words mean either.

“Okay I’ll try this. Out of all the liquids in cups I gave you beforehand, what was your favorite.”

“Um... actually that was um... the brown one. It was warm.”

Hot chocolate huh? With cinnamon? That was also Ronin’s favorite.

Curious.

“That was hot chocolate, but that’s also not really a good thing for breakfast. What about the white one?”

“Yeah, that one was good.”

Dareth got the kid a glass of milk and himself some more coffee before sitting down. He intentionally picked the farthest seat, making sure the kid felt as comfortable as possible.

The kid didn’t look entirely comfortable though. Instead he stared at the fork in his hand, obviously trying to figure it out.

“You uh... never seen a fork either?” Dareth asked.

The kid shook his head.

“Uuuh okay.” Dareth leaned over to one of the other tables, where he kept the rolled up silverware, and pulled out a spoon. “How about this one?”

The kid nodded.

“Okay, well this is a spoon. It’s a lot like a fork. Forks are just built to be able to stab food as well as scoop it up.” He decided to demonstrate, cutting off a bit of sausage and poking it. “Like this.”

The kid’s eyes seemed to flash with determination. He gripped the fork in his hand like he was ready for a fight. He stabbed it onto the plate--a bit too hard judging from the screech from the ceramic--but managed to get some eggs on the end of it. He made a face at it, obviously put off by the way it looked, but put it in his mouth anyway.

His face light up. He stared at the plate like he’d just struck gold. Suddenly he was shoveling the eggs into his mouth way faster than he should be. Dareth barely had the chance to speak before the sausage and bacon vanished along with it.

“Good.” The kid picked up the plate and licked off any stray bits of egg. “That’s so good!” He smacked the plate down, a huge grin on his face.

Something gripped Dareth’s heart and squeezed as he stared at that open smile, the crooked baby teeth with one of the front ones missing.

“Hah.” He tried to smile back, ignoring the lump in his throat. “First time I’ve seen you smile.”

Sadly, that made it vanish. The kid stared back at him, bewildered. He picked up the plate again and stared at it, as if looking at a reflection. “Oh.”

“Sorry, don’t worry about it.” Dareth forced a laugh. “Hey, if you want seconds I’ll gladly give you more, kid. If Ronin snoozes he loses.” He went to finally start eating his own breakfast.

“Toby.”

He almost dropped the fork. “Huh?”

“Toby, my name is Toby.” The kid stared at the table, hands now in his lap. Were his cheeks turning red?

Dareth smiled, that same tight sensation returning to his chest. “Nice to meet you Toby, I’m Dareth.”

“I know.” Toby tried to make himself even smaller. “I hear you and Ronin talking, sometimes.”

“Well...” Dareth finally took a bite. “I’m sure you have your reasons for being scared, Toby. But I promise none of us are going to hurt you. Not on purpose.”

“Mmm...I know.” Toby moved on his seat, probably rubbing his hands together under the table. “I just figure you’ll... kick me out eventually.”

“Well, we aren’t the most qualified people to take in homeless kids.” He forced another laugh before clearing his throat. “But we won’t kick you out either, promise.”

“Mmm...” Toby didn’t look convinced.

“Nevermind it right now. You want seconds? Or maybe something else? What about some fruit?”

Toby squinted at him. “What’s a ‘fruit’?”

Dareth sighed. Oh boy.

[ficforce]

A Good Man Part 2

Hinawa Takehisa x Reader SFW No set timeline New relationship

“Ouch!” The woman yelped and rubbed her hip, that was the fourth time Hinawa had shot her in the same spot, he dulled the shots right down so they hurt but didn’t pierce the skin, she was one of the four left in his sadistic game of tag. The team had to get to the flag without the Lieutenant shooting them, they were all failing badly, Shinra and Tamaki sat in the corner to the side with their arms crossed, red marks just between their eyes - Headshots were an instant disqualification.

They had a little further to go, Maki was the closest and Arthur couldn’t stand to wait anymore so he bolted, a speech about his Knight King skills being cut short by a gunshot, he slumped off and the other woman took the chance to summon Sputter using what was left of an earlier ignition by Shinra earlier,, she grew the little fireball bigger and bigger, dodging bullets and launching a counter-attack. With Maki leading the way, Y/N and Vulcan rushed in behind her, the red-haired youth would have made it if he hadn’t have been shot in the knee and fallen into Maki - The large Sputter lost it’s shape and burst, much to Maki’s dismay. Y/N’s eyes widened as the orange and yellow flames spread out, she was in full protective gear but it made her retreat and huddle behind a makeshift barrier. She had to remember to breathe, she forced herself to calm down, it was okay, it was controlled fire, Maki wouldn’t let that happen. Steeling herself she forced herself to her feet and round the corner, right into the barrel of Hinawa’s handgun, she squeezed her eyes shut and waited for him to shoot her.

“I’m not cruel enough to shoot you at point-blank range. You’re disqualified.” Hinawa holstered his weapon and told everyone to hit the showers. They had failed the task but it was valuable training, the Lieutenant could already see them all reviewing where they had gone wrong and he knew they’d do better in the morning. “Y/N, you’re on clean up duty after dinner.”

Washing up duty, her least favourite but she nodded regardless. Hinawa still made her nervous, he had been around a lot more since her meeting with Obi and the Lieutenant two weeks earlier, she wasn’t sure if he was watching her out of concern or looking for mistakes. It had to be the former because she knew he was a kind man. Even if he looked ready to murder at any given moment. Y/N was getting better at reading the man’s micro-expressions, she glanced at him discreetly, his eyes still held an amber hue from using his ability throughout the training, he seemed pleased with them though. Finding a reason to delay her shower, she headed in after Maki and Iris had finished, she had never showered with them before and they were kind enough not to pry into it, Maki told her once not to be so shy and Y/N wasn’t about to tell her it wasn’t the case. The evening passed quickly - Paperwork had to be done and then they all sat down to eat. The table as lively as ever, “Aren’t you hot, Y/N?”

“Hmm?” She looked up from her food and shook her head at Arthur’s question, “Not really.”

“I’ve never seen you without your jumpsuit all done up. Even when it’s really warm weather.” Shinra elbowed him from the side, “What? I’m just saying…”

“It’s okay, I just prefer to be covered, it’s a pain to wash the oil off of my skin all the time - we can’t all get away with being dirty all the time.”

“Rude,” Vulcan said as she realised he was talking about him. “I’m always welding, besides, the oil slides right off me.” They fell into a new subject but Y/N noticed that she was being watched, she turned her head a little and she met Hinawa’s gaze, heat began to rise in her cheeks and she looked away nervously. She missed the slight frown on the Lieutenant’s lips, the man was disappointed that she was still frightened of him.

It was always two of them that washed up after, Y/N passed Obi the last dish and washed her hands, “Done!”

Obi dried it and placed it back in the cupboard, “We certainly eat a lot.” The Captain clicked on the kettle and pulled out three cups, “How’s it been, Y/N? Hinawa told me that you handled yourself well in training earlier.”

“I froze,” She admitted and passed him the coffee.

“But you got yourself under control and got up.”

“Straight into his line of fire…” She liked washing up with the Captain, he always made a decent coffee and he was pleasant to chat with afterwards.

Obi poured the boiling water, “You can’t take a compliment at all, can you?” He snorted at her shrug and handed her a cup, “You know, Hinawa doesn’t give praise lightly… he’s not a bad guy, I know he seems prickly and serious, that’s just him, he’s not as emotive as everyone else but he’s a -”

“He’s a kind man. I know, Captain… Don’t think I haven’t noticed it.” She hit his bicep lightly, the muscle hard as stone, “Don’t think I haven’t noticed you trying to set us up either - you’re not skilled at it.”

“You say that,” he grinned, “But someone has to take this coffee to Hinawa and I’m pulling rank, off you go, Y/N”

— -

Grumbling under her breath, the coffee cup in her hand, Y/N headed down the hall toward the office. Inside was still a mountain of paperwork, everyone else had retired for the night but Hinawa would no doubt be still at it. But she didn’t hear the clicking of the keys on his laptop and nor could she see his hat peaking up over the paper piles, “Lieutenant?” She found him on the other side, his cheek resting on his arm where he seemed to have dozed off, it was unheard of and Y/N set his coffee down quietly before sliding the laptop over to herself and saving his work.

He looked so peaceful laying there that Y/N wasn’t sure whether to wake him or not, he would end up with a sore back and neck ache if he stayed there… He would be better going to bed, “Sir…” Y/N whispered, her hand hovering over his shoulder but not yet touching him, “Lieutenant Hinawa… Sir.” Her hand rested on the back of his shoulder and suddenly her entire world was turning, she felt pressure on her wrist from where the man was pulling and then the touch softened, she landed gentler than expected. Her eyes met his and Y/N realises she was laid across his lap, his hand rested on her back to keep her from falling back, “Um… Did…did I startle you?”

“You’re lucky I realised it was you or you’d be pinned to the floor.” Hinawa adjusted his glasses and sighed, “Did you need something?”

“I was bringing you coffee, then I didn’t want you to sleep at the desk… Lieutenant?” He blinked at her, head tilting slightly in question, “C-Could you let me go now?” He still had hold of her wrist and it was embarrassing being on his lap. Though… she couldn’t help but stare a little at his face. Hinawa was handsome, his hand was warm on her back and she realised that her hand had been resting on his chest - his strong, defined… Y/N pulled her hand away awkwardly.

He caught it quickly and before the woman knew it she could feel his lips on hers, soft but insistent. He pulled away reluctantly, “Sorry, Y/N.” Hinawa knew she didn’t like him regularly but with her so close, with her looking at him like she could like him a little, he hadn’t been able to resist. Hands cupped his jaw and Y/N pressed a shy kiss to his mouth. It was all the man needed to deepen the kiss, his hand on her back brought her closer to his body and his hat fell to the floor as Y/N combed her fingers through his hair. He was so aware of her against him, relaxed for once and a comfortable weight as she leaned in further. Hinawa’s lips left hers reluctantly, he could have kissed her all evening but then his lips were moving down to her throat, sucking a light mark into her skin whilst her hands unzipped the top half of his jumpsuit and pushed it down over his arms to his waist.

Hinawa was about to return the favour, his fingers tugging the zip barely an inch before Y/N tensed and pulled away, “I can’t!” She removed herself from his lap and backed away, her expression was panicked and once more she found it impossible to look Hinawa in the eye, “I’m sorry, so sorry! I… I can’t!”

“It’s okay…” He was a little shocked in all honesty and his guard dropped, his hand hovered slightly as if he wanted to reach for her and his eyes were gentle as he tried not to take it to heart. “It was a little fast, I understand.”

“No,” she whispered and raised her eyes, “You don’t understand, Hinawa. I really like you.”

“What?” The Lieutenant wasn’t expecting that, he thought maybe she got caught up in the moment and was regretting it. She liked him?

Y/N bit her lip and her arms wrapped around herself a little as she shrunk back into the wall, “I don’t want you to see me… I don’t want you to see my burns.” It was what had kept her from doing anything about her crush, every day she had to see the discoloured, gnarled skin on her arm, her thigh, her hip, her stomach and chest and… she was hideous beneath her clothes. “I’m ugly.”

Things clicked into place, the way she always covered up even when it was hot, why she flinched or pulled away when people tried to touch anything but her head, even her reluctance to look him in the eyes most days. She liked him the same way he liked her but she had been frightened of his reaction - Not of Hinawa himself.

He was relieved.

Hinawa stood up and took her hand as he passed her, pulling her out of the office and down the hall toward her room, she didn’t have anyone to share it yet so she had the luxury of a private room. The Lieutenant figured she would be more comfortable in her room than his and when they got there he asked her to let him in. Y/N opened the door and flicked on the light inside, thankful she had tidied it earlier and made the bed. She slept on the bottom bunk and she had used a spare sheet hung from the top bunk to make a sort of curtain. “Lieutenant?”

“Takehisa.” He turned to face her, “Just for now, please, call me by my name.” Hinawa wasn’t good at confessions, he wasn’t good with feelings, they were confusing and messy, they go in the way of things and made life complicated - but he could be allowed this once, to be awkward and confused, right? “I like you, Y/N. From the second I saw you in Company 3 I knew I liked you. I was impressed by your service history, your mechanical skills and the compassion you had despite your entire company mocking you for it. I told you before but after I learned of your injuries, what you had gone through to save lives… being burned alive with no ability to protect you. Overcoming that experience and being strong enough to get up and keep fighting for innocent lives… You’re incredible. You’re brave, you’re strong and you’re beautiful! I don’t care what’s beneath your clothes or what you look like - You’re the most beautiful person I’ll ever meet, Y/N!”

Oh.

Y/N was stunned, her lips parted a little and she could feel her whole body warming up, his sincerity and straightforwardness knocked her off her feet and she didn’t know how to reply… she was happy though, so, so happy to hear those words from him. “Lieu… T-Takehisa…. thank you… thank you…” Tears sprang to her eyes and she pressed the heels of her hands to them, she didn’t want to look so pathetic in front of him. She felt his arms around her again and wrapped hers around his waist as she hit her face in his neck, “I like you too,” She mumbled into his skin, “I just need a little time before I’m ready to show you all of me…” Y/N pulled back just a little so that she could look at him properly, “Can you wait for me?”

“Can I keep kissing you until then?” She answered him by pressing their mouths together and letting her eyes slip shut.

Hinawa was a good man

– -

Obi smiled to himself as he placed Hinawa’s cap on the back of the man’s chair and took the untouched coffee to the kitchen to wash up - And Y/N said he wasn’t skilled at matchmaking.

[bungou-stray-dingus]

Hello! Thank God I found a still active BSD imagines blog 😭 So, I have quite a specific request if it's ok um can you please do a scenario where Ranpo has a smol female s/o and she's very child-like (in appearance & personality) similarly to him but in everyone's surprise, Ranpo becomes mature when it comes to her. Like, he takes care of her, looks out for her and maybe tell her off when she's misbehaving. My advance thanks to you!~also, do you do NSFW? asking for a friend ;) hehe

A/N : I DO BELIEVE THAT I FINISHED THE SECOND ASK BEFORE I FINISHED THE FIRST ONE. WELL EITHER WAY, HERE WE GO! DOUBLE RANPO REQUESTS COMING OUT! I stan lil snack boy, he is *MWAH*

Ranpo

When he first saw her in the candy shop he had to do a double take. She seemed almost too perfect. He was salivating, and it wasn't because he was surrounded by sugar filled rock candies and pastries, no, it was her. The way her her legs looked in those knee high socks, the way they traveled up underneath her short skirt, the cute little face she made, her tongue hanging out the side of her mouth as she reached on her tiptoes for a bag of candy on the highest shelf. She was precious, she looked delectable, and she put all the other candy in the store to shame. Of course he went over to help her, even though he wasn't much taller than she was himself, but what other way was he going to make her his if he didn't make his move.

He woke up to the sound of glass shattering in the kitchen followed by the sound of your soft voice mumbling to yourself. "Shoot, shoot shoot! Darn it! Oh man." He pulled the blankets off himself and got out of bed, not wanting you to cut yourself on any of the glass that you had broken. He was always so worried about you, you were pretty clumsy and you were prone to hurting yourself often, but that just gave him more reason to hover and be close to you.

He slipped his slippers on and made his way into the kitchen, finding you crouched on the floor sweeping the shards of glass into the dustpan. You looked up and saw him standing next to the counter, staring down at the glass on the floor. "You okay, cinnamon bun?" He asked, finally bending down to finish with the smaller shards that you might miss. "Hmm? Yeah! Sorry I woke you up. I was trying to make breakfast for you and the cup got in the way." You said, your voice always so cheerful, your smile never faltered. When he finished cleaning up the glass he checked you over, looking over your hands and knees to make sure that you didn't cut yourself or get any glass embedded in your skin. After he made sure you were okay he kissed along your knuckles before pressing a small kiss to your nose. "Please be more careful." He murmured, but that wasn't a parting statement, that was an honest plead. If anything happened to you it would destroy him completely.

He sat at the table, his feet propped up on the edge as he watched you turn on the burner to the stove. His heartbeat quickened, the thought of you and fire mixed together, it didn't seem good. It's not that you didn't know how to do things for yourself, it's just that sometimes you got distracted and that could be really bad for you and the apartment with the burner on. "Do you need my help with that?" He asked as nonchalantly as he could, hoping that you would say yes. He would much rather you sit at the table and let him take over the cooking, just so he knows you wouldn't get burnt. You gave him his favorite wind chime giggle as you turned to look at him. "Of course not! I'm like, the worlds greatest breakfast chef, like, ever!" You said, and he couldn't help but smile at how adorable you looked. You were wearing one of his shirts and his favorite knee high socks with an apron tied around yourself. He was torn between watching you move around the kitchen, his eyes glued to the way your body looked in the early morning sun, or getting up and helping you anyway.

The oil popped in the pan as the eggs sizzled, every pop made him jump especially when you let out a little squeal, he feared that the oil had landed on you and that your beautiful skin had been burnt. Then you would let out a breathy chuckle, he could tell that you were embarrassed. "Turn down the burner, pumpkin." He'd say, and you would slowly inch closer to the stove, your arm stretched as far as you could stretch it to turn the knob on the stove. When the bubbling and popping subsided you would smile proudly at him, your eyes squeezed shut and give him two thumbs up. "I did it!" He would hum with approval, letting himself relax knowing that you won't get hurt, hopefully, in the next five minutes at least.

Everyone at the Agency was shocked at how mature Ranpo had become over a matter of six months. He wasn't as childlike as he had been before, but now that he had someone else to worry about and look out for, he knew he had to do some growing up of his own, especially since you were very childlike yourself. He didn't mind it, as long as you were okay, that was his main concern, you were his top priority. You had helped him find a reason to grow up, to be a better version of himself, and you weren't even aware. From the start, he had begun the maturing process. The first date he went on with you, you had tripped up a set of stairs and skinned your knee. When he saw the small tear clinging to the edge of your eye he had almost cried himself. Then when you had been on the phone with him one night and he heard you slightly whimper in pain, the pained "Ow" that you had muttered into the receiver, he almost had a heart attack. He was about to run to your apartment to make sure that you were okay, that is until you reassured him that you had just burnt your finger on a pan by accident. God, did this man worry about you. It seemed like it took forever for him to convince you to move in with him, just so he could keep an eye on you constantly, but once he did it felt like some weight had been lifted.

You had finally finished making breakfast and he could finally take a deep breath. He watched you carefully as you walked over, placing the plate on the table before sitting on his lap, swinging your legs back and forth as you wrapped your arms around his neck. "Did you make a plate for yourself, pumpkin?" He asked, trying to not think too hard about your lack of pants as you rocked back and forth on his lap. He could feel the blood flowing south, and he knew that if you felt it, the two of you would be locked in the bedroom for the next two hours. "Hmm? Oh, nope! Not hungry right now. I'll cook something when you go to work." You said, and his eyes went wide, the thought of you being home alone and cooking scared the hell out of him.

"How about I just bring you home something during my break?!" He said almost too forcefully, and you leaned back to look at him. He thought that he had hurt your feelings, and he was about to apologize until you flashed a big smile, pressing your lips to his. "I love when you visit me during your breaks! Thanks, honey bunny!" You slid off his lap, and ran to the bedroom. He heard the sound of something hitting the door frame and he leaned back in his chair to see you sitting on the floor, your hands wrapped around your ankle.

"What did you hit this time?"

"Funny bone..."

"I'll get the ice."

One thing he loves doing is taking you out on his days off. He'll take you out to eat or out to the movies or when the weather allows it, he'll take you for a stroll through the park. Anything that allows him to spend time with you and give you his undivided attention he loved doing it. He would have his arm wrapped around your waist while you held onto his coat. He thought it was precious how tight you gripped onto him, how close you pressed your body against his.

One time he taken you to CosmoWorld and you had begged him to get on the Ferris Wheel. It's not that he didn't like the Ferris Wheel, he thought it looked beautiful from a distance, especially at night when it was lit up, but the concept of you and him, especially you, being that high up with no harness or really anything to keep you from falling out, it didn't really sit well with him. He wasn't scared of heights, he was scared of you falling to your death.

"Let's just pick something else. I'll win you a prize from one of the games. Pick any prize, I'll get it for you." He had tried to coax you away from the Ferris Wheel, gently pulling you in a different direction. You yanked your hand away from his and folded your arms across your chest, pouting at him as you stomped your foot. "No. I want to ride the Ferris Wheel."

"I don't think the Ferris Wheel is a good idea, not after we've eaten." He didn't like you being mad at him, and he definitely didn't like saying no to you, but sometimes he wished that you would just take no as an answer and move on with it.

"If you won't take me on the Ferris Wheel, I'll find someone else to do it." You said, sticking your nose in the air and turning your back on him. You began walking away, but you didn't get very far before he was right behind you, grabbing your wrist and pulling you to look at him.

"Y/N, stop it." He said sternly, his hands moving to grip onto your waist, holding you tightly to make sure you didn't try to turn away again. "Now look, I said I'd get you a prize, but if you want to act like this we can just go home."

Your lip jutted out and began trembling, he tried to not let it affect him, but he hated making you sad. He closed his eyes so he didn't have to see how upset you looked, it helped him keep his composure, but once you started sniffling he broke. "Come on, don't cry."

"You didn't call me pumpkin... am I not your pumpkin?" You asked quietly and as silly as your question was, he knew that you were serious. At this point you had already forgotten about the Ferris Wheel dilemma, you were worried more about the fact that he had used your first name. It was a rarity, the only times you ever heard him say your name was in the bedroom or when he was irritated with you.

"Of course you're still my pumpkin. Don't be silly. How about we just go home, we can cuddle and watch your favorite movies." He'd quickly brush his thumbs across your cheeks, brushing away any stray tears that had managed to fall.

You were childish, and sure you worried him to death sometimes, and sure he sometimes had to be more serious than he liked to be to get you to behave, but he loved you. He loved everything about you. He fell in love with every aspect of you, and he wouldn't change you for a thing. You're perfect just the way you are, and if anyone even tried to say anything about how you acted he would gladly put them in their place. You were him pumpkin, and he was proud to be your honey bunny.

A/N : What!? Two posts in one night? TWO RANPO POSTS IN ONE NIGHT?! YOU HECKIN KNOW IT! This one is kind of short, but I hope you enjoy it. <3