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writerslittlelibrary · 7 months

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All assassins need a cat

masterlist

summary: since your rescue from the Red Room you had been living in the tower, and it didn’t take you long to realise that ex-assassins simply need a cat

pairing: Winterwidow x widow teen reader, Natasha x widow teen reader, Bucky x widow teen reader

warnings: cats

genre: fluff

words: 1602

a/n: I really want a cat, so I figured I'd write something short about it :)

You do not have my permission to repost, copy or translate my work

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Living in the Avengers tower had been nothing short of amazing. The people were kind, the food was even better. After living in the Red Room for so long you were overwhelmed with the freedom you were given, and the choices you could make.

You had been in the tower for two months now, and although you liked almost everyone that lived in the tower, you preferred Natasha and Bucky the most.

They were kind, and because of your shared life experience it was easy to get along with them. They understood you, and there was no pressure in talking to them. You knew that whatever you told them, they would understand. It was comforting.

However, it didn't take very long before you realised that both Natasha and Bucky owned a cat.

It happened during a movie night. Natasha and Bucky had sworn to catch you up on all the great movies you missed. While watching the entirety of the Indiana Jones movies, a small, black cat jumped up on the bed, snuggling against Natasha.

After you asked who the cat was, Natasha explained that she got her after living in the tower for a while. She said it helped her feel better about herself, and her past.

‘Liho,’ as Natasha told you she was called, took a liking to you rather quickly. It didn't take many movie nights before Liho wasn’t only snuggling on Natasha's lap, but also climbing on yours.

During breakfast with Natasha and Bucky later that week, you spotted a white cat joining you in the kitchen. It walked up to Bucky and started yelling at him for food. Bucky picked the cat up, snuggling with it for a few seconds before grabbing some food, feeding it.

“That's Alpine,” Bucky had explained, telling you how he had gotten a cat not long after Natasha did.

Bucky and Natasha didn't share a floor when they had gotten their cats, but when they moved in together it didn't take long before the cats became friendly with each other. Natasha had told you how you could often find them snuggled up together.

After meeting both cats, you could often be found cuddling with them.

When you were sitting in your room, you would leave your door open, allowing the cats to enter whenever they pleased. Often, they would wander into your room, either jumping on your bed or jumping on your lap while you entertained yourself.

They started following you around the house soon after, always begging for cuddles and kisses. You cheerfully obliged, and it didn't go unmissed by either Bucky or Natasha.

Natasha had brought up the idea one night, after you had fallen asleep in their room.

She shared her thoughts with Bucky, discussing how it might be good for you to get a cat of your own. You loved the cats that were already living in the house, and both Natasha and Bucky thought it would be great for you to raise a cat of your own.

At breakfast a week later Natasha brought it up again.

“How would you feel about getting another cat…?” Natasha asked carefully, bringing up the question casually so as to not make you suspicious.

“You want another cat?” You asked cheerfully, petting Liho behind her ears as she settled on your lap.

Natasha nodded. “It might be fun for Liho and Alpine to get another play buddy.”

Bucky nodded along, settling in the seat next to you.

“Besides, we were thinking, you might like one of your own…” Bucky explained carefully, but your gasp of excitement washed all their worries away.

“I could get a cat?!” You asked excitedly, watching as Natasha chuckled before nodding.

“If that’s something that you want,” she explained, sitting into the seat across from you. “I still have the contact information from the same people I bought Liho from. They have another nest and are looking for homes for the kittens,” Natasha told you, biting into her toast.

“We could go have a look if you want,” she finished.

Another gasp of excitement left your lips. “I could get a kitten? We can go look at kittens?!” you exclaimed happily.

Natasha and Bucky both nodded, chuckling a bit.

“We can visit today,” Bucky explained.

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After finishing your breakfast quickly, you had gotten into the car, heading over to the address that had the kittens. On the way, Natasha told you that the kittens were already old enough to leave the nest, so if there were a kitten that you had a connection with, you would be able to take it home the same day.

You happily stared out the window, humming along to the song on the radio as your excitement grew.

Once inside the house, you were practically jumping from excitement, sighing a little when Natasha, Bucky, you, and the other two people sat down at the table to greet each other and catch up.

Natasha noticed your impatience, grabbing your hand under the table and rubbing soothing circles on it, assuring you that you would get to meet the kittens soon.

After a tedious half hour, the woman finally got up, leading you towards a different room where all the kittens were.

Once you were finally inside, you gasped in excitement when all the kittens ran towards your legs, playing with your shoelaces.

You went to sit on the ground, smiling as all the kittens started exploring around you, inspecting you. Natasha moved to sit next to you, lifting a kitten into her lap and cuddling with it.

After playing with the kittens for a little while, you found out that the mother cat was actually one of Liho's siblings, so you would be adopting a cat of Liho’s family.

You were in the kitten room for about two hours, and you had grown especially close to one little kitten. It was the smallest one, and she was sleepy and shy when you first came in. After about half an hour, she did come over to you, sniffing you for a bit before deciding that you were the perfect place to take a nap. She climbed on your leg and started sleeping.

“Can we have this one?” you asked Natasha as you carefully petted the young cat's body, allowing her to rest.

“She does really like you,” the woman said, cuddling with the mother cat.

Bucky stood in the corner, observing you and his girlfriend as you had a bonding moment. He loved Natasha more than anything, and you were slowly becoming just as important to him. He loved both of you, and he wanted to give you this moment together. He knew how much it meant to Natasha to be a mother, and he was certain it meant a lot to you as well.

Natasha nodded excitedly, giving the kitten on your lap a little snuggle.

“I wish we were able to take them all. They are all so cute,” Natasha said as she lifted another kitten from the ground, holding it close to her and giving it some kisses.

The woman stood up, walking over to Bucky.

“If you could come with me, I will get you all the medical papers and get everything sorted out.”

Bucky nodded and followed the woman out of the room, leaving you and Natasha to snuggle with the kittens a little longer.

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After getting everything sorted you had taken the sleeping kitten into your lap, snuggling with it while you sat on the backseat.

You were more than happy with your new best friend, and both Natasha and Bucky were more than happy because of the fact you were so happy. You cuddled with the cat a little more before you as well fell asleep.

When you woke up again you were back in the Avengers tower, sleeping on Natasha’s and Bucky's bed while Natasha read a book.

“Good afternoon my little Malyshka,” she said when she noticed you were awake. She closed her book, setting it aside and brushing some of your hair out of your face. You groaned and blinked a few times before sitting up, noticing the weight that pressed on your legs. Your little kitten was still fast asleep.

You smiled and reached down to pet her, enjoying the purring she made as she snuggled closer into your hand.

“Thank you, Natasha,” you said as you looked at her, smiling when she gave you a kiss on your forehead.

“Anything for you, my little Malyshka,” Natasha said as she cupped your cheeks, giving you another kiss on your nose.

“Leave some snuggles for me,” you heard Bucky say from the door opening, watching as he walked inside and crawled into the bed, on the other side of you.

You smiled and leaned forward, giving him a little kiss on your cheek.

Bucky smiled as well. “Thank you little miss,” he said jokingly as he leaned forwards as well, giving you a little kiss on your forehead.

Your kitten started making some noises, waking up and taking in its surroundings. Once her eyes landed on you, she crawled higher up your legs, settling onto your chest as you leaned against Natasha. It didn't take long before the kitten fell asleep again, enjoying your gentle pets and kisses.

“Another movie?” Natasha questioned as she observed your state, realising she would not be getting out of the bed for a while.

You nodded happily, snuggling close into her side as she started the movie, stroking your hair.

“Thank you,” you sighed contently before falling asleep as well, safe in the arms of your found family.

Permanent tags: @marvelnatasha12346 @lesbionion @nova-kyle @darkstar225 @saraaahsstuff @marvelwomenarehot0 @screechcat @iheartjohansson @tia-thesimp @swaqcenix @karmasgxrl @marvel-lous3000 @n0txn3vee @lorsstar1st

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givemea-dam-break · 9 months

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daughters of the evening

⭒⭒⭒⭒ in which luke’s descent from good may be found.

pairing: luke castellan x (fem) reader

a/n: hey guys!! first fic in a while and i know, i know, pjo book readers are disappointed in me… but i’m just a girl! i’m literally just a girl! please enjoy my brain baby i love her :) i love writing quests so much, so this was really nice to write for my first fic back on tumblr. i hope you guys enjoy! if anybody wants to be added to my pjo taglist, let me know!

warnings: canon typical violence, book spoilers, blood/injury description, rusty writing

words: 5.8K ⭒⭒⭒⭒

(y/n) couldn’t remember when the change in Luke became permanent.

She could remember the hints of something at the corners of his eyes, something that bit at the happiness that filled them, eating away at it like rot on wood. She could remember the slow decline in his respect for his father, respect that had barely been there for years, though was now bridging on outright disrespect.

She could remember the crux of it all, the very moment in which all of the little things began to coalesce into something ugly. A flash of claws, the deep scarlet of mortal blood followed by shimmering gold ichor. The horrible sound of screaming. Gleaming fruits of gold. Gorgeous, blooming green trees towering above them that concealed the violence below.

It was after the quest that Luke, her Luke, was never the same.

⭒⭒

“I don’t remember San Francisco looking like this.”

Luke’s lips curled into a smile. “You’ve never been to San Francisco.”

(y/n) rolled her eyes. “I’ve seen it in movies through which I have lived vicariously. It’s in one of the Indiana Jones’s, right? Looks different.”

“Those movies are from the eighties,” Luke said. “So, yeah, it’s going to look different.”

Charles Beckendorf, their questmate, heaved a sigh. “Do you guys ever stop?”

“Stop what?” (y/n) asked.

“Being annoying? Flirting? Whatever you want to call it.”

Her face felt awfully hot and she found herself unable to even look in Luke’s general direction. It was a comment that had been made many times in the past, one she was sure Luke was sick to death of, but she found herself yearning for comments like it. They meant that maybe she wasn’t dreaming up something between them.

Either way, she didn’t acknowledge it, rather stuffing her hand into her unzipped backpack and scrounging around until finally she found what she wanted. With a dramatic flair, she revealed three paper maps, each embellished with their names written in colourful pen at the top.

A moment of silence, then Luke said, “Why do we need a map each? Can’t we just share? And where did you even get those?”

“I got them back in Salt Lake City, before we happened upon that massive crab, you remember the one? All blue and slimy.” She pressed the maps into their hands. “There are multiple because knowing you both, you’ll lose them and I’m not buying any more. But, look! They’re colour-coded. Green for me because, duh, Demeter. Orange for Beckendorf, red for you. We can at least make this quest for some stupid apples interesting.”

Beckendorf raised a brow, giving her a strange look. “With glittery gel pen?”

“Glittery gel pen makes everything better,” she insisted. “I’m glad you acknowledge that. Now, come on. With all this talking you two have been doing, we don’t have much time to spare. You’re like a pair of gossiping grannies.”

The two shared a look over her head, one they thought she didn’t see, but it only made her hold back a laugh. They were a relatively upbeat group as it was, but she prided herself on keeping the mood light, especially when danger was looming. With the might of glittery gel pens, a travel-size game of Monopoly, and a cheesy puns book they had picked up off the side of the road, they would be unstoppable should their enemies need a good laugh.

It wasn’t that they weren’t capable of what was ahead of them that she felt the need to joke around, it was just her regular nerves. The three of them were experienced and powerful demigods, skilled fighters and strategists, the best of the best. Luke had his immense skill with a sword and the mind of a trickster; Beckendorf had the brains and strength of a blacksmith, and could sense a trap a mile away and disarm it in moments; (y/n) herself was a powerful daughter of Demeter and, though not to the standard of Luke, was also skilled with a sword.

They hadn’t faced much trouble before. They were a tried-and-tested trio, having been on multiple quests together in the past and finding themselves working well together.

This time, it seemed like a match made by the Fates. A quest ordained by Hermes, Luke’s father, to retrieve the Apples of Immortality from the Garden of the Hesperides - gardens and plants being the domain of Demeter and, by extension, (y/n). And, no doubt, there would be many traps or the need for a strong mind, hence Beckendorf. He was a year or two younger than she and Luke, but had proved himself upon countless occasions. She trusted him with her life.

Almost a week now they’d been on this quest, and still she felt like a giddy child. Almost seventeen and, at her big age, she was holding back smiles and giggles befitting of a schoolgirl with a crush. Part of it was gratefulness that a demigod such as Luke had chosen her to join him on this quest, even after being friends for years and having gone on numerous quests together already. Part of it was simply that she was madly in love with the boy.

She glanced at him from the corner of her eye, then, watching the way the afternoon sun gleamed on his face, setting his dark eyes alight with flame. There was a curious smile on his lips, one that concealed mischief and intelligence; one she had loved for as long as she could remember. His hair was messy after days of travelling and not bothering to fuss with it - she dreaded to think of what her own looked like, the only mirror she had being her sword - but there was something so extremely endearing about it. Wild curls that gave his lightly-freckled face even more life.

Their maps didn’t help their hunt for the Garden an awful lot. For what had to have been at least two hours, they stumbled around the city, turning this way and that, earning odd looks from strangers.

“For being the son of the god of travellers,” (y/n) said, “you are horrendous at reading a map.”

Luke gave her a nudge with his elbow as he scanned the map. He was grinning. Her stomach was doing cartwheels. “Maps make sense enough, but I think these ones are out of date.”

“Maps don’t go out of date, stupid.”

Beckendorf was holding back a smile. “I think he’s right. I think our maps are too old.”

(y/n) glowered at them, plucking their maps from their hands. Fine. They didn’t deserve to hold maps graced with her glittery gel pens anyways.

“Well,” she said. “Unless either of you have any ideas, we’re going to be stuck wandering for hours. Come on, Luke. Use your magicky journey powers. They got us this far.”

His eyes shone, and her knees felt a little weak. She loved it when he looked at her like that, when she had said something funny. It was as though the heavens themselves had descended and flooded his face with light and beauty. She couldn’t look away.

“It’s a big garden,” he retorted. “Find the big garden, daughter of the mighty Demeter!”

She knew he meant it as a joke - the sarcasm was practically dripping from his voice - but there was something in his tone that she couldn’t identify. Something deeper than a simple sarcastic comment. This had been a pity quest, of sorts, she knew. Luke had been getting restless and his father had wanted to satiate him, but it wasn’t enough. He was displeased with the gods, to say the least.

But he kept a good lock on his expressions, on his words. She wouldn’t have suspected a thing had she not known him as well as she knew the feeling of grass beneath her feet.

Eventually, combining their powers and the single brain cell that seemed to be taken by Beckendorf, they found their way to the Mount Tamalpais State Park, which was not open to visitors now that the sun was setting.

They stared up at the distant mountain, the sloping greenland and towering trees that led towards it, and heaved a synonymous groan. Quests could never be even slightly easy, it seemed. Why would the gods let them head to a random park in the city when they could have them trespassing in a state park at night, lives in the hands of the monsters and animals alike that roamed the woods? The gods would rather have them arrested than have something be easy.

“You’re kidding, right?” Beckendorf said. “We don’t have to walk all that way?”

(y/n) frowned. She wished more than anything that they could just turn around and leave, a feeling she did not often get on quests. But something didn’t feel right. There was a twist in her gut, a deep intuition that told her something was going to go wrong.

But her gut was also pulling her towards the mountain. There was a power there, unlike any she had felt before, and she wanted to know what it was.

“We’ll be fine,” she insisted, though she didn’t feel entirely sure herself.

She was the first to make the step towards their darkening fates. If she had known the outcome, she would have turned and fled immediately.

The three of them trudged up the path, flicking on torches when the sky grew darker and the ground in front of them too hard to see. It gave them an eerie glow, entirely unlike the warm glow of their weapons. All of their features were in stark contrast to the dark surroundings; Luke’s cheekbones, Beckendorf’s eyes, her brownbone. It was disconcerting, and it felt all too much like they were the lead characters in a ghost story.

She was considering turning back about halfway there. The tug in her gut was becoming stronger, almost unbearable, and her head was pounding, filled with the worry of the possible incidents that had not happened yet.

The only thing that kept her going was Luke’s pinky finger wrapped around hers.

Maybe he felt her nerves, so acute that she feared her sinews and tendons and bones could snap at any moment. But Luke knew her. He had known her since they were barely teenagers. He knew her better than she knew herself: every habit she had; every face she made; every hint of a feeling before she knew it was coming. He had some deep understanding of her, one that would have made her feel vulnerable in any other situation with any other person. Luke was not any other person.

His pinky was wrapped around hers tightly, warmer than the rest of her body put together. It curled around hers just so, acknowledging her worry. His jacket sleeve brushed hers.

It wasn’t until they reached the Garden at the foot of the mountain that his hand wrapped around hers fully, encasing it entirely in warmth and comfort. His palms were calloused, fingers ribbed with light scars, but she could not imagine it any other way.

The Garden of the Hesperides was easily the most beautiful place she had ever seen and was likely the most beautiful place she would ever see. Stars hung above them in the night sky, glittering so brightly it was as though they could reach out and touch them with their outstretched fingers. Lush green grass coated the ground beneath their feet and beyond, speckled with flowers so bright they almost glowed in the dark. It was bristling with life, so full of it that (y/n) could feel it all deep in her bones.

But the source of the power lay further afield.

A tree, much taller than the rest, stood at the centre of the garden, boasting more golden apples than (y/n) could count. Its branches swayed in the faint breeze in mesmerising swoops, and the scent of fresh fruit laced with something that could only be described as addictive brushed over them. A faint mist swirled around the trunk of the tree, glittering slightly in the moonlight.

“Holy Hephaestus,” Beckendorf murmured, slack-jawed.

“That’s one big tree,” Luke said.

“You certainly have a way with words,” (y/n) said.

His hand only squeezed hers in response. She could feel his heartbeat in his wrist. How was it so steady?

There was a shift in the wind, then, and a soft bite came into the air. Goosebumps prickled the skin of their arms, raising the hair there. She wasn’t sure if she was imagining it, but she swore she could hear the faintest lull of singing voices and could feel the weight of some large presence in the air. Nothing could be seen but the beautiful garden and the decadent tree in the centre.

“Luke Castellan,” said a soft voice. Luke visibly tensed, eyes narrowing at the usage of his surname. “(y/n) (l/n). Charles Beckendorf. We have been expecting you in our Garden for quite some time now.”

The voice seemed to come from everywhere and nowhere all at once. But, finally, after a few moments, the speaker emerged from the fine mist.

She didn’t look like much, appearing to be barely older than (y/n), but there was something about her surrounding aura that suggested she was much, much older. Dark, inky hair tumbled over narrow tawny shoulders, framing even darker eyes that shone with unknown magic. The woman seemed to blink slowly, as if bored or tired, and it looked as though she were merely floating over the ground rather than walking. It was hard to tell. Her Greek chiton covered her feet.

“We are the Hesperides,” she said, voice ever gentle, as four more women appeared, each almost identical in appearance. “Daughters of the Evening. Nymphs of the Sunset. Protectors of this Garden. What is your business here?”

There was a cockiness to Luke’s smile then, one that had (y/n) on edge. “If you’ve been expecting us, then surely you know our business.”

The lead Hesperide drew nearer, stopping a few feet away from their trio. Her sisters gathered at her sides, dark eyes sparkling with stars and cold curiosity and something overtly bitter. The demigods were clearly unwelcome here, but they intended to make a game of their quest.

(y/n)’s hand squeezed Luke’s in warning. He spared her a glance, her heart drawing still when his warm eyes met hers. His chin dipped slightly in a nod, and he gave her hand a squeeze before turning his attention back to the Hesperides.

“We’ve been sent here on a quest by my father Hermes,” Luke announced. His voice held more confidence than she felt. “We’re here to retrieve a golden apple.”

It was strange watching the Hesperides’ heads tilt in unison as if they were each an extension of the other. Voices lulled around them, soft and gentle, and the worry seeped from her very bones. Her hand fell from Luke’s. Something felt strangely at ease in her stomach despite their circumstances.

“You may try,” said the lead Hesperide. Her skin glimmered like marble in the moonlight. “Our dearest Ladon protects this tree with his life. He does not sleep. Every second of every day, he guards our gift from Gaea, the goddess Hera’s wedding gift. Do not think it will be easy to pass him.”

The Hesperides seemed to fade into the mist, then, their bodies becoming light and transparent as they slowly backed away until nothing was left but the faint singing swirling around them. The voices gave (y/n) a strange feeling, as though pulling her towards the tree.

“Who’s Ladon?” Beckendorf asked.

The three of them stood for a moment, watching the swirling mist.

“A dragon,” (y/n) said. “A big dragon.”

She could feel his presence, she realised. The heavy weight that had settled over them upon entering the Garden, it couldn’t be anything else. Even still, she could feel him through the ground, like an impending sense of death and doom. She’d had similar feelings before, an innate knowledge that the strawberry fields were close to wilting one year. Campers had called her crazy, but she knew. The earth knew.

And it knew now. She was horribly aware of the heaviness in her gut that surrounded the bright power of the apple tree. It could be nothing but Ladon.

“Any ideas, Luke?” she asked. “You’re our idea guy.”

He scoffed. “Since when? You’ve been dragging us around by our ears this entire quest.”

But he could see the nerves that she felt. He knew how strange this was for her, to feel so deeply worried about a quest. He knew something was wrong.

“I’ll get the apple,” he said, and his shoulders rose with confidence. His hand, the one that had held (y/n)’s moments ago, twitched just so. “I’m the fastest out of the three of us. You two, keep our friend distracted.”

There was a deep grumble at that moment, as if Ladon were making himself known. It shook the ground and the boughs of the tree trembled. Sweet-smelling apples tumbled into the mist.

“Wouldn’t it make more sense for me to get the apples?” (y/n) asked. “You brought along a daughter of Demeter for a reason.”

He smiled softly at her. “That’s not the reason I brought you along.”

And, before either she or Beckendorf could protest his stupidity or question his statement, Luke’s glowing sword materialised in his hand and he was running into the mist.

The mist spread apart as his feet made contact, and (y/n)’s heart dropped. Beckendorf, one of the bravest demigods she had ever met despite his age, had a tremor in his hands as he pulled free his sword.

Within the mist was the largest monster (y/n) had ever seen. It was wrapped around the tree in a serpentine-like way, scales glimmering in the moonlight like molten copper and bronze. Massive claws sunk into the dirt surrounding the tree, at least the length of her forearm and as wide as Beckendorf’s. Every breath it released shook the branches of the tree as though caught in a gale.

The most horrifying part: the dragon had a hundred heads.

She had read about Ladon, had familiarised herself with the myths surrounding the Hesperides. Days before the quest, she and Luke had sat down at the canoe lake, poring over old history books that told the tale of Heracles and his Twelve Labours, one of which was the very quest they were being made to repeat. Luke had made a joke of it back then, unhappy with the quest he had been given and disbelieving that what they faced would be much of a threat.

But Ladon was no joke. It was an entirely different thing seeing drawings of the dragon and seeing him in real life. His hundred heads slithered through the air like snakes on the water, luminous yellow eyes watching the demigods with piqued interest.

Even Luke faltered.

A deep breath came from all two hundred of the dragon’s nostrils, washing over them in a hot, acidic wave. The smell alone was horrendous, like an old, decrepit sewer filled with rotting rats, and it had the hairs on her arms standing and her eyes burning.

She was worried that she may never be able to move again, frozen in place by the sheer might of Ladon, but when Luke turned to look at her, blood flooded into her veins again. He was counting on her. She wouldn’t let him down.

Ladon expected a frontal assault. He was waiting for Luke to attack, watching like a predator on prey, but he did not expect the very tree he protected to act against him.

With a heave of energy, (y/n) stretched out her arm and watched as the tree’s trunk began to swell as if filling with liquid. Ladon’s serpentine body writhed around it, twisting as he moved to accommodate the growing tree. The branches above him shook, dipping towards the ground slowly. Too slowly.

The dragon seemed to realise what, or who, was causing the change, and snarled ferociously. It was at that moment that Beckendorf grabbed a ball of Celestial bronze from his belt and, with a strong arm and remarkably good aim, threw it at the beast.

An explosion of green ignited before them as the ball slammed into Ladon’s thick hide. The dragon roared, whether in pain or fury, and set its bright gaze on (y/n) and Beckendorf.

Fear coursed through her body. She could hardly breathe. The branches wavered, pausing the pursuit to the ground. Beckendorf launched another one of his Celestial bronze bombs.

A pity quest, that’s what this had been. But, maybe, it was more than that. Maybe this was Hermes’ punishment for Luke wanting more from his life. Maybe this was (y/n)’s consequence for falling so irrevocably in love with Luke - for feeling the way she did, she would have to follow him to impossible circumstances.

But none of them deserved it.

It was at that moment that Luke took his leap.

With speed befitting a child of Hermes, he leapt onto Ladon’s mighty body, feet finding purchase on his rough scales, and launched himself upwards towards the descending branches.

For a moment, there was hope. Even Heracles had not retrieved the apples by facing Ladon, but maybe Luke would. Perhaps Luke would succeed where Heracles had not. Pride swelled in her heart, coated her tongue like warm honey, and she almost smiled.

Copper-coloured claws flashed in the moonlight. A chorus of soft, harmonising voices swirled around them like mist.

Mistake, they sang. The boy has made a mistake.

There was a cry of pain so guttural that (y/n) felt it in her soul. Her feet were moving before she could truly comprehend what was happening. The grass tried to reach for her ankles, tried to stop her in her mission, but nothing could. Had a god stood before her, she would have found her way past them. Nothing could stop her, not even this dragon that caused such fear in her bones.

She reached Luke as Ladon wound around the tree tightly, snarling protectively. Something in the beast’s demeanour hinted at pain beneath the danger, and when she saw the gold blood pooling just a few feet away, she knew why.

A claw, one of Ladon’s, severed from the knuckle down lay strewn in the grass. The dragon hissed as Beckendorf snatched it up, hefting his sword as (y/n) pulled Luke away.

He was bleeding badly. A deep gash ran from the tip of his brow down to the corner of his mouth, somehow missing his eye but cutting just above and below. His skin was already becoming dangerously pale. Her hands were covered in blood. His blood. She was going to be sick.

“Hey,” she murmured, gently laying his head on her lap. Her hands trembled as she reached into her bag. “You’re okay. You’re okay.”

Luke shuddered, eyes half-lidded and struggling to find something to focus on. “Are you -?”

“I’m fine,” she said. After a terrible moment, one that took far too long, she pulled free a small vial of nectar, wrapped tightly in old face-cloths to keep it from smashing in her bag. Her hands couldn’t stop shaking as she tried to unwrap it.

Beckendorf knelt beside her, claw at his side, and took the vial from her hands. She didn’t know how his hands could be so steady. She could hardly breathe. Not with Luke so injured, not with Ladon eyeing them hungrily.

He handed the vial back, and she propped Luke’s head up slightly. With a hiss of pain, she managed to open his mouth just enough to pour the small amount of nectar in. He swallowed with a struggle.

There was no telling how long it would take the nectar to work, but they couldn’t stay there under the watchful glare of Ladon, who looked ready to attack again. (y/n) took a trembling breath.

“Beckendorf,” she said, “are you able to carry him? At least until we can get out of this place. I can try - I can clean the wound when we’re safe.”

He nodded and hoisted Luke up into his arms, careful not to jostle his head too much.

She didn’t realise she had been crying until they stopped.

Beckendorf set Luke down on a soft patch of grass beyond the Garden, and (y/n) tucked her jacket underneath his head. The nectar seemed to be working, albeit slowly. Some colour was returning to his skin, but it was hard to see under all of the blood.

“You’re okay,” she murmured again, but she wasn’t sure who she was telling. She wiped her tears with the back of her hands.

She grabbed one of the face-cloths the vial of nectar had been wrapped in, soaking it in water from her water bottle, and slowly brought it to Luke’s face.

His eyes seemed to have some ability to focus now, watching her beneath a glaze of pain. It tore her soul in half to see him in pain, wincing as she gently dabbed the blood from his cheek. Her fingers were stained. His cheek was, too.

“I’m going to keep watch,” said Beckendorf. “Those Hesperides gave me a bad feeling.”

(y/n) nodded, watching for a moment as he trudged a few feet away, just out of earshot, but her focus soon returned to Luke. She tried not to think too much about how his hand was gripping her knee as she cleaned the rest of the blood.

“Is the nectar working?” she asked when she saw his eyes drooping. “What does it taste like?”

His gaze found hers, warm and cloudy. A pained smile fought its way onto his lips despite the slowly-healing scar on his cheek. She could see the skin trying to sew itself back together with the aid of the nectar.

“That smoothie you made a few months back with the - with the camp’s strawberries,” he uttered. “And whatever those green leaves were.”

She found herself smiling despite the red coating her hands. “Mint. And it was that good, huh? Last I checked, nectar for you tasted like that weird concoction of Coke and Sprite you liked so much.”

For a moment, his eyes grew distant before refocusing on her face. They flickered over her features as if seeing them for the first time. His hand felt awfully warm on her knee.

“Anything you make is better,” he said.

“Is that so?” She brushed his hair back from his face softly, cleaning the last bits of blood.

His skin was still stitching itself back together, but the nectar seemed to have stopped the bleeding. Second by second, blood flooded back into his face, giving him the colour that seemed to have been leached from his skin.

He nodded, his smile seeming as though it pained him less. His hand slipped from her knee, coming up to wrap itself around hers. The cloth fell from her fingers and onto the grass. Her fingers were still wet, though in the dim light she couldn’t tell if it was from water or lingering blood. She didn’t have the stomach to find out.

“You said you didn’t bring me on this quest because of my mother,” she said cautiously. Her heart was pounding in her chest. “So why did you?”

A soft squeeze of her hand. “This wasn’t a quest I wanted to do without you,” he said. “I like having you by my side. You give me strength.”

She was sure he could feel her pulse beating rapidly in her fingers, but he didn’t say anything about it. He didn’t need to. It was entirely likely that he was able to read her mind, he knew her so well. And she was okay with that.

“You’re stupid, you know,” she said, but her voice wavered.

“Stupidly brave?” he suggested. “Stupidly handsome? Stupidly charming?”

“I’m supposed to be supporting you right now,” she grumbled. “Not the other way around.”

His cocky grin was back and her heart fluttered. “Which one is it?”

“Which what?”

“Stupidly brave, handsome, or charming?”

All three, she thought. All three and so much more.

“Stupidly stupid,” she decided.

Her thumb grazed his cheekbone, the one without the scar, and a shiver ran through his body. His hand tightened on hers and his smile softened into something more personal. It was the kind of smile she would have leapt into Tartarus to ensure its permanence on his lips. Soft and kind and reserved just for her. If she'd been standing, her knees would have buckled.

“You give me strength, too,” she murmured.

A sliver of hair slipped in front of her eyes, and moments later, Luke’s free hand was there, gently brushing it away. His eyes sparkled. They seemed clearer now, less agonised.

The events of the last hour - gods, it had felt like much longer - came crashing back onto her at his touch, asphyxiating and terrifying. Overwhelming guilt filled her veins and arteries with terrible speed, sapping all the strength from her bones. Her fingers trembled once more.

“I’m sorry,” she said. Her throat felt suddenly raw. “If I’d done a better job distracting Ladon, maybe you wouldn’t be hurt.”

Luke’s eyes were dark for a moment, swirling with something she couldn’t identify, but they softened seconds later. His hand rested on her cheek, warm and comforting, but she couldn’t bring herself to look at his eyes now.

“This is not your fault,” he said, and his voice was remarkably strong. “This is the gods’ fault. It’s my father’s fault. But it is not your fault.”

She tried to believe him, truly she did, but looking at the fresh scar on his face, even having been almost entirely healed with nectar, had her heart heavy in her chest.

He knew this. Gods, he knew her every thought. His hand slipped from hers, cupping her other cheek and tilting her head so that she would look at him properly. There was a flush to his cheeks now - good, it meant he was getting better.

“My father did this,” he insisted. “You hear me? This was not you. And, gods, believe me when I say that I’m glad it was me that went for the apples and not you. I couldn’t live with myself if you got injured.”

But you did, she wanted to say - no, scream. How do I live with that?

“I’m okay,” he said softly, cautiously, as if talking to a child who had just woken from a nightmare. “I’m okay.”

His hand fell from her face, taking hers in its grip once more, and placed her fingers on the newly formed scar.

She jerked back, terrified that the sensation would cause him more pain, but he just gave her that smile again, the one that made her knees feel like jelly, and pressed her fingers to it once more. Already, the skin was raised and slightly twisted, accommodating for the injury. She could faintly feel his pulse beneath his skin, slow and infuriatingly steady.

“It doesn't hurt,” he promised. His voice was so reassuring that she could feel it in her bones, and she was half-convinced he was secretly a child of Aphrodite, blessed with charmspeak. “I’m okay because of you.”

Her throat was achy. “And Beckendorf.”

He gave a small laugh. “And Beckendorf. But mainly you. You’ve given me strength.”

It was then that the world itself seemed to stop. He was leaning upwards, bringing her face close to his, and his lips brushed hers so softly that she feared she may have been dreaming the entire encounter.

She could taste the faint remnants of metallic blood, though it was easily brushed aside. Luke’s lips were slightly wind-chapped but she found herself uncaring when they slotted perfectly against hers.

This kiss was something she had been waiting years for, and it was better than she could have ever dreamed. The feeling of his hands on her, his lips against hers, it was something that could not be replicated in a dream, like flying for the first time and feeling the clouds beneath your fingers.

It was addictive, more so than the stupid apples that had caused Luke such pain, and she found herself wanting more. It was an effort to pull away from him, but eventually, she did. Beckendorf was only a few feet away and she didn’t want to make him uncomfortable. It would make for an awkward journey home.

“You don’t know how long I’ve been waiting to do that,” Luke murmured.

Finally, there was a smile tugging on her lips again. “You’ve no idea how long I’ve been waiting.”

It took another hour or so before Luke was well enough to get moving. The dark trails gave all of them a bad feeling, and (y/n) wasn’t able to shake the almost hypnotic choral voices of the Hesperides until they were out of the State Park. Luke was shaky on his feet for a little while but his strength was returning.

And with it came anger.

Not anger at (y/n) or Beckendorf, no. He still smiled at them as usual, fingers entwined with (y/n)’s so tightly it was as though he was afraid she would slip away. Jokes still slipped past his lips despite the events of the evening.

But he was filled with fiery rage. It was hidden, but (y/n) could read him like a book. She had seen the inklings of it throughout the previous days of their quest, had seen it more clearly while she was cleaning the blood from his face - this anger, though, was pure. Harder to mask.

He had already been furious with his quest, a detail he had tried to keep hidden from her. He hated the idea of repeating history and the fact that this quest was simply made to satiate him, to prevent him from growing restless at camp and questioning the authority of the gods.

This was a breaking point.

It became clearer the more time passed. As the days and weeks went by, he would hold her hand like a lifeline and kiss her so softly it felt as though she was dreaming, but the anger never left. It ate away at him, dimming his smiles and reducing any respect he had left for the gods until there was nothing left but a shadow of what had once been there.

The scar never faded. It became a reminder of what he believed to be the gods’ failure. His failure.

He was still her Luke. The Luke she had known and loved since she was thirteen. She was just terrified of what he might become.

#givemea-dam-break #luke castellan x reader #pjo luke x reader #pjo luke castellan x reader #pjo x reader #percy jackson and the olympians x reader #luke castellan #percy jackson and the olympians #pjo #x reader #fanfiction #luke castellan fanfiction #pjo fanfiction

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ave09 · 1 year

Text

marriage

indiana jones x reader

“indy?”

“doll?”

“where do you draw the line when it comes to grading?” the man glanced up at you, pushing his round spectacles up the bridge of his nose, “what do you mean?”

you slid the test you were grading across the table, “her answer is correct technically speaking, but he added a lot of unnecessary information that i had to pick the paragraph apart to find the right answer.”

his hazel eyes skimmed the overly large paragraph, chuckling, “mark it as wrong.” you arched your brows in surprise, “really?” indiana nodded, “she’s adding in the extra information in order to try and score points with me, i’ve seen it too many times before.”

“but won’t marking it wrong benefit her? this is worth ten points, marking this wrong will bring her to an F. therefore, you will have you will have to meet with her after class, giving her exactly what she wants, which is alone time with her attractive professor.”

indiana stared blankly for a moment. he knew you were right. and yet, his answer remained the same, “mark it wrong.”

you complied, using a red pen to mark an ‘x’ over the question. “well, don’t complain to me when she starts writing ‘love you’ across her eyelids.”

suddenly, indiana rose from his seat abruptly, “maybe it’s time to show them that i already have a lovely lady.”

“they know, i’ve been to your class before, indiana.”

“no no, i mean like officially. show ‘em that i’m off the market completely.” you furrowed your brows, “indy, i’m not following.” the man rushed out of the room, toward the kitchen. you rose to follow him, only to hear, “don’t move!”

so you remained seated. you heard a rummaging sound, then a clang. your gut told you to go see what was going on, but you remained compliant to indiana’s orders.

he reentered the room, “okay,” he exhaled deeply, “i was gonna plan this out, make it nice and all, but i am known to be spontaneous..”

then he dropped to one knee. your eyes widened as he revealed a small velvet box. you couldn’t believe it.

“beautiful, we’ve been through a whole hell of a lot. from wild adventures, to almost dying, you’ve stuck with me through it all. and i’ll be honest, i never saw myself as the type of guy to settle down, but, then i met you.”

tears stung your eyes.

“you make me better, you make my life better. you’re the light in the darkness and i love you so much.”

he opened the box, revealing a beautiful diamond ring.

“will you do me and the honor, and become mrs. jones.”

you smiled tearfully, nodding rapidly, “of course i will, indy.” he grinned widely, “i had a feeling you’d say yes.” indiana then rose to his full height, you stood as well, approaching him. the man gently reached for your left hand, sliding the band onto your ring finger.

you couldn’t believe it! you were getting married!

“y’know, i think this calls for a celebration.”

“celebration?” you were thinking he met breaking out the wine, or even heading to the bedroom. but instead, indiana moseyed toward the stereo, clicking it on.

‘cheek to cheek’ by fred astaire began playing.

indiana turned around, extending a hand toward you, “dance with me?”

“of course.” you replied, taking his hand. you two danced around your dining room, completely forgetting about the pile of papers that needed to be graded.

indiana began singing along in a low voice, “when we’re off together dancing cheek to cheek.” it was always a surprise to hear him

sing. it was one of the man’s many hidden talents, and you were the only one he’d ever sing for.

he then spun you around, before pulling you close to him.

“i love you.” he whispered, leaning in to kiss you.

“i know.” you replied, only to have him

jerk back, “ i know? that’s all i get? i know?” you let out a loud laugh, “i love you too, indy. more than anything.” you then pressed your lips to his in a passionate kiss.

— — —

the next morning, indiana jones walked to his classroom with an unexplained pep in his step. the students exchanged confused looks, the professors were curious.

the man stepped into his classroom, clapping his hands as he grinned at the students, “good morning class!”

“good morning, doctor jones.” they replied. one of the girls, the very one who had added all the entire information onto her test, raised her hand.

“yes, miss fisher?”

“you seem very happy this morning, doctor jones, has something happened?” the man’s smile somehow grew bigger as he thought back to the events of the night before.

“something has happened, miss fisher, and i’ve been waiting all morning to tell you-i’m getting married.”

#indiana jones x reader #indiana jones #indiana jones and the temple of doom #indy #indiana jones and the raiders of the lost ark #harrison ford x reader #harrison ford movies #young harrison ford

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wormdevourer · 3 months

Text

I’m bored out of my mind rn so I’m writing these >:)

𝓗𝓢𝓡 𝓗𝓔𝓐𝓓𝓒𝓐𝓝𝓞𝓝𝓢

𝙱𝙻𝙰𝙳𝙴

-loves warm things in the winter, like blankets and hot cocoa

-secretly enjoys watching cheesy movies

-doesn’t see the point in technology (but he’ll gladly play games with Silver Wolf if his hand stops hurting)

-he acts like he doesn’t like touch, but he’s actually very touch-starved,,, bro just wants a hug :(

-styles his hair in his room and never tells anyone (like a ponytail or a bun…)

-I feel like he would like v flower idk why

-despises pop music

-listens to murder mystery podcasts to cheer himself up

𝚂𝚄𝙽𝙳𝙰𝚈

-loves to play the piano and violin

-on that note, loves classical music

-he and robin do karaoke a lot (she gets him to sing taylor swift songs, and her own songs)

-loves honey and tea (loves honey in his tea, too)

-lowkey reminds me of aqua from oshi no ko

-has trouble focusing/sitting still (that refined persona is not fooling anyone, son)

-spends a lot of money on keeping his hair perfect

-he’s kinda scared to get older :(

𝙱𝙾𝙾𝚃𝙷𝙸𝙻𝙻

-obviously he’s obsessed with cowboy movies

-if something isn’t colored red, black, or gray, he won’t wear it

-would let you braid his hair

-does crazy dangerous stunts during missions because ‘they can’t hurt me, I’m a fudgin’ cyborg!’ 💀

-loves indiana jones movies

-would go to the mall w dan heng

-if you ever showed him the grand canyon he’d incessantly beg to go there (idk why I just get the vibes 💀)

-yeeeeeeehaw

𝙰𝚅𝙴𝙽𝚃𝚄𝚁𝙸𝙽𝙴

-very protective

-lets you brush his hair

-always smells good (it’s that expensive perfume)

-gives you his coat when you’re cold (cheesy but I feel like he would lmao)

-when he’s bored at work he watches internet dramas play out

-would totally call his friends ‘girlypop’

-‘fuh-riend’

-really really really loves sleepovers (especially the pillow forts and the painting each others’ nails)

who should I write about next?? >:3

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lovebugism · 11 months

Note

fictober request

how about Halloween party at the office and modern office romance!steve and reader show up at the same costume (unintentionally)

i switched this up a bit since i wrote something sorta similar earlier, but i hope you like it! this fic occurs a little earlier in the modern!office timeline before steve and r actually get together btw

summary: you run into steve outside of the office after you think he's been with someone else (enemies to lovers, miscommunication, hurt/comfort ish, 1.3k)

fictober (㇏(•̀ᵥᵥ•́)ノ)

You’re already twenty minutes late when you rush out of the cab. It’s not totally your fault, but Robin’s scowling at you anyway. She’s leaning against the dirty brick wall of the Clubhouse that pulses with a muffled bass. Dressed as Indiana Jones, she holds a cigarette between her lips.

“Since when do you smoke?” you wonder in lieu of any actual greeting.

“I don’t,” the brunette shrugs, not even inhaling as she pinches the stick from her mouth. “A pretty girl asked me if I wanted a cigarette, and I didn’t know how to say no.”

“Make sense.” You laugh with a sense of relief that you might’ve gotten out of her berating. The solace comes about one second too early.

“—Also, you’re late.”

“I know,” you groan with your head tilted back. “Work ran late. We had a meeting, I couldn’t miss it.”

“Oh, right. I forgot about your really nice, super cushy job that you love more than me.”

You roll your eyes at Robin’s light-hearted complaint, then beam at her when she stomps out her cigarette. “I love you both equally in different ways. You know that.”

“Uh-huh,” she monotones with narrowed eyes, laughing again when you wrap your arms around her neck. You smack a dramatic kiss to her freckled cheek. When you pull away, she gasps. “Ah! Look! Three o’clock.”

You turn to your right and squint down the bustling sidewalk.

“My three o’clock,” she corrects.

You look to your left, and you’re not totally sure what you’re expecting to find, but Steve fucking Harrington is at the very bottom of your list.

And if seeing someone from work isn’t already the worst thing imaginable, him wearing the exact match of your costume certainly is. His basketball shorts and tank top duo is the Bugs Bunny to your tighter, more feminine Lola Bunny.

The asshole smiles when he sees you, wider when he realizes what you’re wearing.

Though the intrinsic goal of Halloween is to look slutty, you feel very suddenly on display.

“You gotta be shitting be…”

“Well, it’s good to see you, too,” Steve laughs when he nears you.

You whip around to glare at Robin. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

Her deep ocean eyes go wide. She blinks at you for several seconds. “I fail to realize how any of this is my fault.”

“He’s your new best friend!” you shout, waving your arm at Steve but talking like he isn’t there. “You knew what he was dressing up as tonight— and you just let me wear this? That, like, breaks all the rules of girl code!”

Her brows pinch together in offense. “Hey. You’re both my best friends, alright? I love you both equally in different ways.”

“Robin!”

“What?”

“It’s not that big of a deal, bunny,” Steve interjects, still laughing with a stupid pink grin on his face. He shrugs and puts his hands on his hips. “I mean, it’s sorta kismet if you think about it.”

“Nope. Nuh-uh. Don’t call me Bunny. We’re not doing that,” you retort with a glare and a stern finger pointed at his chest.

He sighs and tilts his scruffy chin to his chest. “Yeah, I figured. Sorry,” he mumbles under his breath.

“See, this is why I didn’t tell you!” Robin blurts, waving her hands between the two of you. You and Steve turn to look at her and her wide, twinkling eyes. “The sexual tension is practically flowing through your veins at this point!”

The bickering ceases. The silence is filled with a pounding bass and muffled conversations. You and Steve share similar looks of bemusement, but you’re the first to break the quiet. “Yeah, no,” you monotone with the shake of your head. “I’m not doing this all night.”

“Where are you going!” Robin calls when you walk off.

“To get drunk by myself!” you shout back, right before disappearing into the Halloween night crowd.

You’re halfway to the edge of the sidewalk when you hear the shout of your name, drowned out with all the noise. You reach the edge of it, and a warm hand curls around your elbow. You turn around, not surprised to find Steve, even though your stomach whirls at the sight of him.

“Hey. Look. I’m sorry, alright?” he stammers, sincerely apologetic. His softened features melt with it.

You feel bad, so you shake your head to cut him off. “No. Don’t apologize. I’m just being dramatic— I wanted to have a storm-off moment.”

Steve can’t help but smile at you. He bites it back to keep it at bay. His eyes sparkle with every bit he conceals. “Sorry,” he repeats anyway, a laugh sputtering from his mouth. “Leave it to me to fuck something up, right?”

There’s no part of you jumping up to pity your boss’s son. You comfort him by not affirming him and his misplaced feelings of inadequacy. You just cross your arms over your chest and glare up at him until he caves.

“Don’t leave, alright?” he pleads with a sigh. His bushy brows pinch together, like the thought of you being anywhere else pains him. The warm hand on your elbow doesn’t waver. Instead, he holds you tighter. “I’ll stay ten feet away from you all night. I promise. I won’t even tease you about all this.”

You blink at him, totally deadpanned.

“Well, I’ll tease you a little bit— but I think I deserve it!” he corrects quickly after, eyes sparkling and smile widening. “You’re the one that didn’t call me back, remember?”

You run hot with embarrassment one moment, then with fury the next. Your flat face twists with rage as you shove a palm into his chest. “I did call you, asshole!”

Steve stumbles slightly back, if only to appease you. His face swirls with confusion. “What?”

“Yeah. Some girl answered the phone.”

He’d make fun of how jealous you sound if he wasn’t so stumped.

He hasn’t been with anyone since he last saw you. He asked you to call him the night you left, but you never did. You acted like he never even existed. And like an idiot, he kept pining for you — even though he thought you hated him.

Sometimes, he thinks you might. But even if you do, you still tried to call him. And that’s more than enough.

He deflates with the sudden realization. “Oh, shit.”

You exhale a bitter scoff. “Yeah. Oh, shit.”

Steve starts to laugh. You feel a little like he’s shoved a knife in your chest. It’s red-hot and searing, burning the backs of your eyes when tears start to gather there. You blink them away. You refuse to humor him by letting him think you care.

“I’m glad it’s so funny to you--”

“No— It’s not— It’s not funny, alright?” he stammers through his boyish laughter. He grabs you again when you try to walk away, warm hands curling around your arms to pull you back. Your eyes are glassy when they find his pink, lopsided grin and scrunched nose. “Well, I mean, it is kinda funny actually. ‘Cause that girl was my mom.”

Your blood runs cold this time. You forget how to breathe.

“…What?”

“Yeah, she was visiting over the weekend. She said someone tried to call when I was in the shower, but that they hung up before they said anything…” Steve explains, then clicks his lips against his teeth. “Honestly, I probably should’ve figured it out on my own.”

Your eyes fall to your sneakers as you shift your weight on your feet, feeling a bit like a stupid child.

“Yeah,” you mumble with a shrug. “It’s all your fault, basically.”

Steve’s grin widens. He steps closer to you, chests brushing with every breath. “I’ll take the blame if you come inside and dance with me,” he offers with a childlike hope brightening his features.

You go back to glaring at him. He’s used to that by now. Being fake mad at him is basically your love language at this point.

He caves with a small huff. “Okay, I’ll take the blame if you just come inside. How about that? We can figure out the dancing situation later.”

You’re beaming again.

And so is Steve. ‘Cause he knows you’ll be all over him later — on the dancefloor and when he takes you home.

#published by bug #steve harrington x reader #stranger things x reader #steve harrington #stranger things #steve harrington x you #steve harrington x y/n #stranger things fic #stranger things fanfic #stranger things fanfiction #stranger things imagine #steve harrington fluff #steve harrington imagine #steve harrington fic #steve harrington fanfiction #steve harrington fanfic #st drabbles #stevie drabble #event: fictober!

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bubblybloob · 9 months

Text

I have a sort of reverse damsel route floating about in my head. It basically follows you majorly fucking up in chapter 1, or maybe instead of simply resisting the narrator you sacrifice yourself before the princess gets the chance to kill you, leading into chapter 2.

Here the princess is trying to gallantly save you despite being the prisoner? You find her in the basement and she immediately breaks free, you turn to leave and all of a sudden Indiana jones temple bullshit is behind you.

As things play along it is revealed that she is laser focused on your safety, uncomfortably so, a lot like how Damsel was revealed to be basically less than a person with her only wanting to make you happy. She essentially thinks you’re going to die without her, and doesn’t trust you with your own life, maybe she also thinks you’re a tad incompetent (to be fair, was the protagonist really ever that competent?).

I think a whole trap idea is interesting, something different than other routes in the game. I also simply like the idea of an Indiana Jones style dungeon with booby traps and boulders rolling down at you along one ramp like path trying to crush you.

If you listen to her and do what she says and let her do all the work, you both escape and she gets taken to the Long Quiet by the hands. If you don’t, maybe by questioning her strange attitude or by trying to navigate the traps without her help, you eventually die and end up in Chapter 3.

Not entirely sure what she’d be like, usually chapter 3 is a more severe, unnerving version of what you just saw (unless it’s a path like wraith or wild where you can get there from multiple different princesses), so maybe she’s even worse than before and is more apparently strange in action and word.

Perhaps she thinks if she just keeps you with her and don’t leave or move or do anything, you’ll never be in danger again, or she traverses even deadlier traps with you, except overcomes them with absolute bullshit with a rather unbothered, wide grin, like she didn’t just casually punch a massive rolling boulder through the damn ceiling.

Not sure what this princess would be called, maybe The Savior or The Champion or something along those lines.

As for a new voice…? I’m really unsure. If you kill yourself to keep the narrator from stabbing the princess, you’d probably get a sacrificial sort of voice, which already kind of exists if you mix the Smitten and the Broken together. Any ideas for this would be welcomed. I’ll be coming up with a design for the princess while I think on this.

Edit: I mostly finalized this idea here

#slay the princess #stp the princess #stp the damsel #unsure if I can tag the damsel here but she did inspire this

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thatonebirdwrites · 2 months

Text

Compliation of fic I wrote

So for the Holidays, here's a masterlist of Fics I've written:

On AO3:

TLOK: How Was Those Three Years?

TLOK: Asami's Hidden Box of Letters and Poetry

TLOK: Is This A Romance?

TLOK: Spirit World Vacation

TLOK: Shared Moments Series: Book 1, Book 1.5, Book 2, Book 2.5, Book 3, and Book 3.5

Supergirl: Supercorp Endgame Series: Confession and Unraveling Realities

Supergirl: Terminal Velocity, Texts, and Cats

Supergirl: You Are the Only One Who Sees Me, Trusts Me, and Believes in Me

Supergirl: Reach For The Sky

Supergirl: Tear Apart the World To Save You

Supergirl: Lena's Grimorie

Supergirl: Books of Destiny (where most of my oneshots will be posted)

Supergirl: You Call This Archaeology?

Supergirl: Shattered

On Tumblr (Slowing porting to AO3):

Supergirl: Boardgame Practice

Supergirl: Kara crashing Lena's Date

Supergirl: Reach For The Sky (Hiking and Recovery)

Supergirl: Indiana Jones AU Idea for Supercorp

Supergirl: Sam Confronts Kara Over Her Hurting Lena

Supergirl: Kara's Love of Misshapen Pumpkins

Supergirl: Confession

TLOK: Rain and Thunder AU

Supergirl: An Analysis of Risk (my continuation of FazedLight's ficlet)

TLOK: Endless Autumn

Supergirl: Balcony Scene

Supergirl: She Wants Me For Me

Supergirl: Medieval AU

Supergirl and TLOK: Crossover Shenanigans

Supergirl: Color Out of Space

Supergirl: Building Inspection and Lava

Supergirl: Happy and Carefree

Supergirl: Some of Lena's Handmade Spells

Supergirl: The Food Stand

Supergirl: Secret Wedding

Supergirl: The Golden Potato

Supergirl: Lena Regrets Reading Supergirl Smut (But not really)

Supergirl: Matching Tattoos

Supergirl and TLOK: A tale of Two Gentle Moments Supergirl: Cold of Death, Warmth of Love

My Original Fiction (characters from my Elivera world): A Short Trip

Supergirl: Memories

Supergirl: Fallout AU

Supergirl: Nia's Lessons on Intuition

Korrasami: Alternate Start to Book 3.5

Supergirl: Shattered excerpt 1 and Excerpt 2

Supergirl: Kara Finally Gets It With Mxy's Help

Original Fiction: Excerpt from The Lost Ones

Supergirl: The Watch

Supergirl: You're not even a real woman

Supergirl: Cheating Death and Part 2 and Part 3 and Part 4

Essays:

Ethical Problems With DEO

Nonfiction Essays Concerning Issues That Impact Human Beings

Ableism used as a Buzz Word and an Analysis on Accessible Spaces

#tlok #korrasami #the legend of korra #writing #Supercorp #supergirl cw #fanfic #my writings #Just a list of things I've written on this site or on AO3 #Will reblog to add in any others I write #I guess I have only two fandoms Korrasami and Supercorp. Ha!#I have not posted any of my original fiction on tumblr however but should I?#original fiction #This list is getting Looooong lol

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luizd3ad · 5 months

Text

BatFam At Disneyland Headcanons

ᶻ 𝗓 𐰁 ࣪˖⤷ .𖥔 ݁ ˖ ࣪ ᶻ 𝗓 𐰁 ˖ ⤷

Author's Note: This is my First time Writing Headconons so I hope you guys like it and I did it right <3

Also this is based kinda on my experiences at Disneyland which I haven’t been there in like 10 years? So I haven’t been to Avengers Campus or Star Wars so sorry if stuff is wrong so sounds weird.

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Dick:

-Is actually so excited but doesn't want to show it because he knows Jason is gonna make fun of him.

-He would get so happy when he gets called a ‘Space Ranger’ when they scan his ticket.

-Gets pissed that there's not many rides that are wheelchair accessible.

-Keeps saying how he can do the Spider-Man's flip at Avengers Campus.

-Is now convinced he can be Spider-Man.

-Tried to get Spider-Man to do a backflip with him.

-Got sad when Babs told him to leave the Cast Members alone.

Jason:

-Makes fun of Dick because he knows he's excited.

-Is also really excited.

-Try’s to think of a ways to leave Damian because he knows hes going to complain the whole fucking time.

-He's 100% gonna try and flirt with some of the princesses.

-Also gets pissed that there's not many rides that are wheelchair accessible.

-Gets yelled at by Alfred and Brunce when he tries to hold his middle finger up in the picture with Steph.

Tim:

-Gets sick on the TeaCups ride.

-He got so excited when he met woody like he was jumping with joy.

-Bro loved Cars Land like he had to be forced to leave.

-Makes everyone wait till the lights turn on in Cars Land

-Cries during ‘The World of Color’ show.

-’Toy Story Midway Mania’ was his favorite ride of the whole day.

-Gets freaked out thinking about Walt Disney's frozen head.

Damian:

-Complained the whole way there.

-Wants to go to ‘The Wizarding World Of Harry Potter’.

-Gets pissed when he can't go to The Wizarding World.

-Is pissed till they go on Hyperspace Mountain.

-He had so much fun at StarWars.

-He made a droid and a lightsaber.

-Kept comparing Brunce to Iron man.

Duke:

-Makes fun of Tim for getting sick on the TeaCups.

-When everyone gets Mickey Mouse Ears he laughs at Dick because they wouldn't put ‘Dick’ on the ears.

-Got a little scared on the Indiana Jones ride, he kept his eyes closed because he was not taking any chances.

-Small World freaked him out a little.

-He was eating every candy and treat he could get his hands on.

-Pretends he's not sick at the end of the night because he doesn't want to prove that Alfred was right.

Bruce:

-He begs Alfred to go because he can't deal with all his kids by himself in a place like Disney.

-Man is stressed.

-Mentally complains about how expensive everything is like he isn't a billionaire.

-Grizzly Peak was his favorite.

-He thought ‘Soarin’ was the best ride. \

-Now hates Iron Man

Cass:

-Pirates of the Caribbean and Haunted Mason were her favorite.

-Doesn't want to but agrees to take pictures with the princesses (she actually really wants to, especially with Pocahontas).

-Meeting Loki was the highlight of her day.

-Convinces Tim that Walt Disney's Head is frozen in the basement.

Steph:

-Explains to Damian that The Wizarding World is at a different park.

-Convinces Cass and Babs to take pictures with every princess they see.

-Gets Jason to take a picture with Eeyore and Tigger. (She said it was them)

-Makes everyone watch the parade.

-Cries during the Fireworks.

Babs:

-Get's sad that there's not many rides that are wheelchair accessible.

-Convinces Dick that he can go on rides without her.

-Loved taking pictures with the princesses

-Meeting Ariel was her favorite part.

-Jungle Cruise was her favorite ride.

-Tells Dick to leave Spider-Man alone.

-Tells Dick he can't just ask people to do backflips with him.

-Loved Pixie Hollow.

Alfred:

-It was his idea but he wants to stay at the manor.

-Has no idea why Bruce is stressed considering he planned everything.

-Takes princess pictures with the girls.

-Kept telling Duke to stop eating so much candy because he was going to get sick.

-Stand behind everyone during the fireworks and tear up at the idea of this trip healing all of their inner childs even if it's just a little.

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deliciousangelfestival · 9 months

Text

Passionate Dig || Bucky Barnes

Character: TreasureHunter!Bucky × Archeology!Reader

Summary: Archaeologist Y/N and treasure hunter Bucky clash, sparking an unexpected romance during an excavation of ancient relics.

Warning: I wrote this in my phone. I'm sorry if the story not good 😂.

Y/N meticulously brushed away the layers of dirt covering an intricately carved relic, completely engrossed in her archaeological work. Her team, equally dedicated, carefully documented their findings in the newly discovered tomb.

As Y/N delicately handled the artifact, one of her co-workers, Alex, approached with furrowed brows. "Hey, Y/N, you might want to see this," he whispered, nodding discreetly towards the entrance of the tomb.

Following his gaze, Y/N caught sight of Bucky, the notorious treasure hunter, skulking around the excavation site. His rugged appearance and confident stride made it clear that he was up to something.

"Ugh, Bucky," Y/N muttered, frustration evident in her voice. "What's he doing here? This is an archaeological site, not a marketplace."

Alex raised an eyebrow. "Think he's after the same relic we are?"

Y/N scowled, watching as Bucky eyed the team's equipment with a suspicious gleam in his eye. "Probably. He cares more about the price tag than the historical significance."

As Y/N observed Bucky's actions from a distance, Alex let out a sigh. "You know, Y/N, Bucky might be onto something. He found that legendary gem a while back and now he's practically a star – the modern Indiana Jones."

Y/N shot Alex a disapproving look, her irritation palpable. "Fame and fortune shouldn't be the measure of success in archaeology. It's about preserving history, not becoming a celebrity."

Alex winced as Y/N pinched his ear. "Ow, okay, okay! I get it. I just thought it'd be nice to have a bit of recognition, you know?"

Y/N softened her tone, reminding him of their shared passion. "Alex, we're here to uncover the past, to learn and share knowledge. That's worth more than any gem or fame. Don't forget why you joined archaeology in the first place."

#######

Observing Y/N engrossed in her work, Bucky couldn't resist a smirk. He leaned against a nearby pillar, his eyes never leaving her. "Look at the little archaeologist in her element," he mused to his assistant.

His assistant chuckled. "She seems serious about this stuff. You sure you want to mess with her?"

Bucky's smirk widened. "Oh, I love a challenge. Besides, teasing her a bit might spice things up around here." Her passion for archaeology, combined with the fire in her eyes, intrigued him more than he cared to admit.

During their lunch break, Y/N found herself face-to-face with Bucky near the excavation site. He flashed a charming grin, holding out a sandwich as an offering.

"Care for a break from dusty relics, Y/N?" he asked, his tone dripping with casual allure.

Y/N eyed the sandwich skeptically, raising an eyebrow. "What's the catch, Bucky?"

He chuckled, leaning in with a glint in his eye. "No catch, just an offer. I've got a lead on another site. We could make quite the team."

Y/N scoffed, taking a step back. "I work for history, not for profit."

A sly grin on his face. "Why stick to old relics, Y/N? I've got a lead on a thrilling adventure. Join me."

Y/N shot him a skeptical look. "I'm not interested in your version of thrill, Bucky. I value history, not chasing after your treasures."

His gaze locked onto hers, a daring challenge in his eyes. "You're missing out on a different kind of richness, sweetheart."

Y/N retorted with a smirk, "I'll pass. My passion is in preserving the past, not in your reckless pursuits."

Under the moonlit night, Y/N couldn't resist the allure of the excavation site, a place where history whispered its secrets.

As she quietly approached, she was startled to find Bucky already there, his shadow blending with the darkness.

"What are you doing here?" Y/N questioned, her irritation evident.

He flashed a mischievous grin. "Couldn't resist the call of adventure. What about you?"

Y/N rolled her eyes. "Unlike you, some of us value a good night's rest. Now, what are you really up to?"

As they bickered, a glint caught Y/N's eye. An ancient chest, adorned with intricate carvings, lay partially exposed. Their argument ceased as their attention shifted to the unexpected discovery.

Bucky's eyes widened with a glint of greed. "Now, this is what I call a find! Let's see what treasures lie within."

Y/N stepped forward, a stern expression on her face. "Absolutely not, Bucky. We're here to preserve, not pillage."

He smirked, the tension between them palpable. "Come on, sweetheart, don't be so uptight. This could be the biggest discovery of our careers."

Y/N's voice turned stern. "We're not taking anything until we properly document and understand its historical significance."

The heated argument between Y/N and Bucky echoed through the still night air, their voices carrying the weight of conflicting desires.

As they continued to clash over the ancient chest, unaware of their escalating volume, Y/N's supervisor, Dr. Reynolds, stirred from his sleep. And because the others are complained saying "Both of them are arguing again."

"What's going on here?" Dr. Reynolds's stern voice cut through the darkness as he approached the excavation site, his silhouette outlined by the moonlight.

Y/N and Bucky, momentarily stunned, exchanged guilty glances before attempting to explain the situation simultaneously.

"She's being overly cautious, doc. We've found something extraordinary, and she wants to play it safe," Bucky argued.

Y/N shot back, "He's trying to exploit our discoveries for personal gain, disregarding the significance of our work!"

Dr. Reynolds raised an eyebrow, a mix of curiosity and irritation on his face. "Alright, enough. Let me see what you've found."

As they presented the ancient chest, the supervisor examined it with a discerning eye. "This could be a groundbreaking discovery, but we must handle it with care. No reckless actions."

Y/N nodded, shooting a defiant glance at Bucky. "Exactly, Dr. Reynolds. We need to document its historical value before anything else."

Bucky sighed, reluctantly agreeing, "Fine, but let's not waste too much time. There might be more treasures waiting to be uncovered."

Dr. Reynolds then dropped a bombshell that left Y/N speechless.

"Y/N, Bucky," he said, a hint of a smile playing on his lips, "you both found this relic together. Your collaboration could bring a fresh perspective to our research."

Y/N's eyes widened in disbelief. Bucky, on the other hand, wore a knowing smirk, confirming the truth in Dr. Reynolds's statement.

"As much as your approaches differ," Dr. Reynolds continued, "there's value in combining your strengths. Work together, but remember, history is our priority."

Y/N, still processing the revelation, mustered the courage to ask Dr. Reynolds, "Why would you suggest we work with Bucky? Our principles are vastly different."

Dr. Reynolds sighed, acknowledging her concern. "Y/N, we need a new sponsor for our archaeological endeavors. The exposure that comes with associating our team and Bucky's name could attract the attention and funding we desperately need."

Y/N frowned, skeptical of the compromise. "But his methods and intentions..."

Dr. Reynolds interrupted, "I understand your reservations, but sometimes we must adapt to the circumstances. This collaboration could open doors for us, offering opportunities to explore history that we wouldn't have otherwise."

Bucky chimed in, his tone surprisingly sincere. "I may not be your ideal partner, Y/N, but I know the value of a good find. Together, we could make headlines and secure the support we need."

Bucky, seizing the moment to inject his trademark charm, couldn't resist a teasing remark. "Looks like we're stuck with each other, Y/N. Who knows, maybe you'll learn to appreciate my methods."

Y/N shot him a skeptical look. "Don't get too comfortable, Bucky. I'm only doing this for the sake of the team, not because I suddenly appreciate treasure hunting."

He chuckled, the smirk never leaving his face. "We'll see about that, sweetheart. Get ready for an adventure you never knew you needed."

Taglist:

@thezombieprostitute

@ordelixx

#bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x y/n #bucky x y/n #bucky barnes #bucky x reader #bucky barnes au #james bucky buchanan barnes #buckybarnes #james bucky barnes #bucky x you #bucky #bucky barnes x female reader #marvel fanfic #bucky fanfic #bucky fluff #sebastian stan x fluff #sebastian stan characters

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3terna15unshin3 · 11 months

Note

a blurb of them at a halloween party would heal me!! (smut but also super cutie cus they’re my babies)

Kneel

—

a/n: hey bff thank u for the request and happy halloween :-)

Read the main fic here if u want more Matty and Este!

—

cw: 18+, minors DNI, alcohol consumption, kinky religious undertones that will hit hard if you’ve seen Fleabag season 2, oral (m receiving), dom!matty vibes ish, praise, cumplay maybe??, also a bit wordy at the start lol

Matty zipped up the back of her jumpsuit for her, since Este couldn’t reach it herself. She was in the midst of covering her nose and mouth with fake blood.

“Easy with that stuff, hey? You’re going to make it impossible for me to kiss you,” he complained, making eye contact with her through the mirror in front of them.

She laughed, running her hands under the tap to wash the excess red off her hands, and then turned around. Her arms raised to adjust the Roman collar surrounding his neck. “A bit of blood has never stopped you in the past.”

His jaw dropped. “We’ll have to put some time aside for confession tonight, with that dirty mind of yours.” He said with a chuckle, playing up the priest costume suited over his body and shaking his head at her suggestive joke.

“I’ll hold you to that offer, actually.” Este giggled.

Before heading out the door, she stole a cigarette from the box in Matty’s pocket to hold between her fingers as a prop—her other hand cradling a small stuffed guinea pig. Fleabag was their favourite show, after all.

When they arrived at Charli’s, music was pulsating through the floorboards and hoards of people filled the space. She was great at throwing a party, so that’s what was expected.

Matty had handfuls of friends to greet but he did it all with his hand still linked with hers or around her waist. By now, they were mostly familiar faces, so it didn’t phase her. Many complimented their costumes; and those who didn’t recognise it, got an earful from Este about how the show it was in reference to was an absolute must-watch. Matty, who was slightly less passionate about spreading the Fleabag agenda, just sat back and watched in adoration. He loved seeing her addiction to sharing things she loves with others.

He also shamelessly basked in the feeling of being called ‘hot priest’ by everyone. If anyone called him just the ‘priest’, he’d correct them, and Este would roll her eyes.

By the time they’d gone round to see everyone, Ross (dressed as Indiana Jones) had shoved drinks into their hands, and had even come back a second time with more rounds. They were buzzed before settling into a spot in the corner of the lounge where the rest of the guys and their partners had gotten comfortable.

After him and Este pulled each of them in for an embrace, Matty took the last free seat and grabbed her by the waist to sit down on his lap.

“Welcome, welcome,” Charli loudly greeted over the music, while hanging onto George’s shoulder, “You guys have gotten some drinks right? You’re good? I’ve got some off limits special stuff I’m willing to share if you want anything more,”

Este thanked her for the offer but shook her head. “Ross had us very taken care of the minute we walked in, so I think we’re all good,”

Ross raised his glass and nodded his head at the mention of his chronic need to make sure that nobody ever had an empty hand.

“You look hot, by the way,” commented Carly, earning a wide smile from Este as she eyed her and Adam and their costumes. They were dressed as the twins from The Shining.

“I’d say the same about you babe. But not hotter than Hann, unfortunately,” She replied, giggling at his blonde wig. He flicked the fake hair upwards with sass in response to her compliment, making the whole group laugh.

Matty’s hands stayed there on her hips for the next few hours, only removing themselves periodically when they got up to mingle or to get another drink or when Este heard a song she wanted to dance to. But otherwise, his touch was glued to her.

It was starting to drive him crazy that that was all he could do, though. She grew increasingly flirty with him as the night went on; making sure to grind her ass deeper into his lap every time she towered forward to grab crisps off the coffee table, or leaning her back into his chest to turn and give him a kiss on the jaw, or leaving her hand way too far up his thigh. Matty wanted more—but she couldn’t give him that.

Then, Charli brought her point-and-shoot camera out and people began to pose. Everyone messily heaped into groups and threw middle fingers and peace signs up and the camera flashed repeatedly. Once most guests and their costumes were captured at least a couple of times, she came over to Este and grabbed her by the arm.

“We need a photo, E! Come outside,”

The excited and tipsy host made Este stand with her, serving looks down the lens and playfully posing together.

“Wait! I should light my cig!” exclaimed Este, still holding the unlit one between her fingers. She reached around the corner for Matty and gestured to his pocket, wordlessly asking him to do it for her.

Este insisted on holding eye contact with him as she grasped the smoke between her lips and he held the flame underneath its end. It made Matty swoon, seeing her suck her cheeks in and then blow the smoke out the side of her mouth.

She enjoyed a joint and its high here and there, but wasn’t as big of a smoker as him, and was rarely caught messing with nicotine. So, the sight was a bit unusual—and it turned Matty on.

After more photos with Charli, Este shoved her phone into her hand and dragged Matty into the frame. He complied, wrapping his arm tightly around her waist and giving the lens his attention. They smiled together, earning a collective ‘aw’ from the people around the room who looked.

They took turns altering expressions, some serious and some silly (like when Este stood proudly while Matty grabbed her tits from behind, peeking his head out to the side); all while she only held the lit cigarette without smoking it.

But for one photo, Matty watched her take a drag. She then looked up at him through her black eyelashes, and leaned in without saying anything. Gulping, he followed her action and leaned in as well, realising that Este wanted to shotgun the smoke she’d just inhaled.

So he parted his lips and breathed in as she blew the smoke into them, locking her gaze again. He felt the buzz immediately, and Este smirked with just millimetres between them before pulling away.

Matty swore he felt his dick twitch in his pants—and even thought he saw Este squeeze her legs together in his peripheral vision. Luckily, he also saw Charli capture the moment with both her camera and Este’s iPhone, so at least he’d have evidence that it actually happened. And that he didn’t just dream it up.

“Okay, you guys are sexy. I get it. Can you take some of me and George now?”

—

Este’s behaviour wasn’t innocent and unknowing. He knew she was riling him up on purpose. So in return, as soon as they stepped foot back into their shared house, Matty had her pinned against the wall. They’d barely made it into the corridor.

She gasped, but quickly gave in and kissed him with hunger.

“Something wrong, Father?” Este asked breathily, breaking away for air and tugging at his collar.

His hands tangled in her hair and yanked it backwards to make her head tilt up. “You’ve been very sinful tonight,”

Their lips hungrily reconnected, kissing with open mouths. Este grabbed him over his pants, drawing a hiss out of Matty. She then felt his hand trail up from her waist, over her chest, and onto her neck. He pressed lightly on the sides of her throat. She moaned into his mouth.

“Will you forgive me if I repent?” She asked, while slipping her fingers past his waistband.

“We’ll see. Only if you’re good for me,” Matty answered in a low voice. He grew rock hard as Este pumped him up and down a couple times in his pants. He breathed heavily and made pretty sounds when she dragged her thumb over his sensitive tip.

“I will. I swear,” begged Este.

“Then kneel.”

Sinking to her knees, she took his length out of his pants and gave it a kiss like she was worshipping it. Her flattened tongue ran up its underside from the base, taking his head into her mouth when she reached the top.

Matty shuddered, cradling her jaw with his palm. “Fuck,” he choked out.

She swirled her tongue around him before taking a breath and bringing him farther. His cock hit the back of her throat, making her gag and then moan with pleasure. The vibrations made Matty buck his hips forward and hit her maximum again.

Este's hand did the work her mouth couldn’t reach, setting a comfortable pace and gripping the back of his thigh with her other one. His skin tasted salty and made her shift her hips in desperation.

Matty then gathered her messy hair into one section behind her head. “You said you’re gonna be good for Father, right? Will you show me how good you are?”

She let out a muffled moan to say yes, attempting to nod while her mouth was full of him and her head bobbed up and down. Wetness accumulated between her legs.

“Okay. Then take me like the good girl.”

He steadied her head, gripping it with both hands, and gently thrust his hips. Este opened her jaw wider and took a breath while she could, before Matty thrusted into her again.

He went easy on her to make sure everything was alright, even though her was fully aware that she loved having her face fucked. Este loved pleasing him, letting him take control, and tasting him down her throat. It could make her cum on the spot.

Not long afterwards, he tightened his grip on her hair and brought her mouth down even deeper onto his cock. “That’s it, baby.” He praised, jaw slack with euphoria as her throat constricted around him.

Tears gathered in the corner of Este’s eyes, her nose repeatedly grazing the hairy skin of his pelvis. His thrusts grew relentless. The filthy sounds of her mouth around him echoed through their entryway and mixed with their combined moans.

His head threw itself backwards and he groaned every time Este’s warm mouth swallowed him. “Shit, you were fucking made for me,” Matty said, after bringing his attention back down to the sight of her. Spit dripped down her chin. Her lips grew red at the way they were stretched around his cock.

“Just a bit more. You’re taking me so well,” moaned Matty, feeling his orgasm creeping up. They both knew he wouldn’t last long.

Este was a champ, squeezing her eyes shut as he fucked faster to chase his end. To finish him off, she hollowed her cheeks and stiffened her tongue beneath him, feeling the vein that ran down the underside of his cock, bobbing her head again to meet him halfway.

His hips rammed into her face a couple of more times, before he cried, “Fuck, fuck, fuck. E, I’m—”, and then came.

She sprung up, finally able to take a breath, letting Matty watch his cum spill onto her tongue. His tip sat above her open mouth and ropes of white pooled into it.

Este let it drip out and down onto her cleavage that was exposed through the cutout of her jumpsuit. Raising her hand and wrapping it back around his cock, she milked him of every last drop. The sudden prolonged pleasure made Matty’s hips buckle up, fucking her fist and spilling more of his seed onto her chest.

“Am I forgiven, Father?” she asked after swallowing fully, even dragging a finger through the cum on her tits and then sucking it clean.

Matty’s chest heaved up and down, and his head was so hazy from the mind numbing climax he was attempting to recover from that all he could do was nod. He caressed the top of her head with his shaky hand, then brought it down to drag his thumb over her lips.

It formed into a smile as Este looked up at him, his expression being shamelessly fucked out and giddy.

“I think I actually did just see God.”

#tbsg #meste blurb #matty healy #matty healy fanfiction #the 1975 fanfiction #matty healy x oc #the 1975 #matty healy fic #smut #matty healy smut

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orchideous-nox · 1 month

Note

what kind of books/movies do you see everyone reading/watching???

I love yapping about books and films, anon, how did you know?

Okay AHHHHHHH so many thoughts. I'm going to include modern films though

Remus - I think he loves Lord of the Rings (both the films and the books) and some Greek Mythology classics like The Odyssey and The Iliad

Sirius - Boy doesn't read. What's a book? Films though, I think he likes a good action film. Maybe something like Bullet Train with some comedy in there, or like John Wicke and he spends who whole time like "Keanu looks so good in a suit, don't you think?" and stares until you agree.

James - James says that he likes films like Blade Runner, but when he's home alone he's watching Krrish. I could see him being into Star War too. In terms of books, I think he prefers non-fiction or maybe like a sci-fi book, idk too much about those.

Peter - As a kid, he was reading Goosebumps like there was no tomorrow and loved the Swiss Family Robinson. I think he'd also like Star Wars with James and maybe Indiana Jones. I could see him enjoying Stand By Me and The Goonies as well, he's be really into classic 80s movies.

Lily - Anne of Green Gables all the way. I think she got called Pippi Longstocking when she was younger and has refused to have anything to do with it since. Lily would love the tv show Anne with an E. I think she likes watching the LotR films with Remus because she loves the women but would complain that they don't have enough to do. She's also a lover of Wuthering Heights, I feel. And The Princess Bride.

Mary - OUR ROMCOM QUEEEENNN!!! Her favourites are Clueless, The Notebook, The Proposal and whenever she watches Love Actually she gets irrationally angry at Harry before he's even done anything to hurt Karen, it's just a vibe. She reads those smutty romance books with the cartoon covers, but also loves Janes Austen like Emma and Pride and Prejudice. She's also into Eve Babitz and Joan Didion I feel.

Marlene - She reads a lot of biographies and autobiographies. One time someone caught them reading Bloody Chamber by Angela Carter and they hated all men for two weeks, even James who she was normally friends with. I think films...I want to say Bend it Like Beckham but that feels so obvious. She can also recite a lot of The Devil Wears Prada but that's their girlfriend's fault. Marlene could probably be a horror film buff? That seems kinda fun.

Dorcas - Like I just mentioned, The Devil Wears Prada. I think she also likes period romances like the 2005 Pride and Prejudice and Atonement. She'll also watched Bend it Like Beckham...and there is absolutely no link between those three films that would explain why she likes them. In terms of books, I think she would enjoy some Stephen King, her and Marlene have a joint love for The Shining and Carrie.

Pandora - I've been thinking about this and I think Pandora would be a big fan of Guillermo Del Toro's film Pan's Labyrinth. Maybe also The Dark Crystal? In terms of books, I think she let Marlene borrow her copy The Bloody Chamber but she also likes Maya Angelou.

Regulus - Motherfucker is so pretentious. He is reading Russian novels and glares at anyone who calls him out for it. I think if Regulus watching films, he's watching very deep and thoughtful films, ones that either aren't particularly popular but are good for discussion. I couldn't name one though so 🙃

Barty - No.

Evan - I think he could be into horror novels or like psychological thrillers. The first one that came to mind was I'm Thinking of Ending Things by Iain Reid, but I think he could fuck with The Picture of Dorian Gray which doesn't fit the same vibe but it makes since to me I think. Also medical journals and books about the human body. I've said previously that I think Evan would really like films like Martyrs and The Idiots and I stand by that. Maybe also Un Chien Andalou.

Xenophilius - I mentioned earlier in this post that I think Xeno fucks with folk stories so that's what he'd be reading. Maybe like a classic dystopian such as 1984? I am struggling with films though, I genuinely have no idea.

#marauders #hp marauders #marauders era #dead gay wizards from the 70s #remus lupin #sirius black #james potter #peter pettigrew #lily evans #mary macdonald #marlene mckinnon #dorcas meadowes #pandora rosier #pandora lovegood #regulus black #barty crouch jr #evan rosier #xenophilius lovegood

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couldnt-think-of-a-funny-name · 1 year

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when I was little, like 4/5/6, I was obsessed with Indiana Jones, and always wanted to play Indiana Jones but I didn't have any of the merch. what I DID have was a revolutionary war-era hat from the franklin institute, so I'd wear that and pretend it was his hat. it didn't fit great and kinda pushed my ears out but that meant I was a pro at keeping it on when practicing the stunts (jumping on furniture and sliding down the stairs). there was like this one weird tree root in my backyard and I was CONVINCED it was a dinosaur fossil and I was always so mad that my parents wouldn't let me dig it up or contact the museum!! and one time while treasure hunting I actually found like, a vintage heavy silver brush/comb/mirror set hidden in the walls in my closet and I was like we have to call the museum NOW people!! (we didn't, I still have them 😂). at some point I learned the word hypothesis and went absolutely wild, and while that didn't necessarily have anything to do with the movies I decided that carrying around my hypothesis notebook on my archeological adventures would show everyone that I was a well-educated woman (the hypothesis' in question were like, 'spot can run faster than a cheetah, and I can run faster than spot' and 'an elephant is probably louder than my boombox, even if I turn the volume all the way up!'😭). and then I was 12 when the fourth movie came out, and as much as I had a crush on Shia LaBeouf's character Mutt, a large part of me was like 'okay but what if everything was the same except Mutt is a 12 year old girl but she dresses exactly the same and still rides a motorcycle and has a pocket knife and she goes by Mutt still but her real name is Henrietta and she still dresses like a greaser but she has pigtails and maybe a cool bandana and also she's Me❤️ (did it make sense for Indy and Marion to have a young teenager? no, but math has never been my strong suit</3). in real life I didn't have a pocket knife bc my girl scouts troop sucked but I looked up YouTube videos about how to do those flip tricks and tried it with a butter knife and it did not end well! so I just flipped my pens around for the rest of the year. anyway basically I think Baby Molly deserved to be in Indiana Jones 5 and it is so so incredibly rude that no one on that production team reached out to me!!!

#indiana jones #dial of destiny #indiana jones 5 #molly mumbles #lmao

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obislittleone · 1 year

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Temple of the Forbidden Eye (3)

Indiana Jones x OC

Series Summary: The relationship between student and teacher is strictly professional, or at least it should be. He’s never met his match in archeological intelligence, and if he ever does, it might drive him to do something stupid.

A/n: since indy came out this weekend, here’s a veeeery long chapter to suffice your indy needs

Warnings: oh boy… bullying, good ol’ fashioned misogyny, mentions of past abuse, mentions of blood and bruises (not explicitly), like.. one swear word.

(Co-written by the lovely @theatrelove3000 you guys should go give her a follow)

The late night work became a regular occurrence, along with her occupying the guest room for those nights. She was always gone when Dr. Jones woke up. It concerned him at first, but he figured she just didn't want to be a burden, not that she ever was. The more time he spent around her, the more it became obvious to him that she tried her best to take up as little space as she possibly could.

Since her presence in his home became a regular event, he started keeping food stocked. He made it very clear that he did it for her benefit and she was welcome to anything he has. This led to her making dinner for the both of them often while they worked. He would bring whatever they had been working on with him and set it up on the breakfast counter connected to the rest of his kitchen. She would read between steps or they'd talk about whatever the work was. He came to enjoy these times, even if it was only subconsciously.

Of course, spending as much time with him as she was, it was bound to come back around to bite her. The rumors started relatively quickly. She was able to handle rumors; they'd unfortunately been a major part of her life growing up, and mostly just drew attention from those stupid enough to believe them. That didn't mean she enjoyed the staring, though. She much preferred when she was more or less invisible to her peers and professors. She knew they looked before, that was fine. They were surprised to see a woman in their fancy, expensive classes, let alone one who wears trousers. She didn't mind those looks. Those looks at least were respectful enough to look away when she caught them. Those looks were only because they were shocked to have seen something of her nature…

Now, it's different. Now, they don't look away when she sees them looking. Instead, they throw daggers with their eyes and whisper to each other as she passes. She has had things like this happen before but never for her own decisions. It is different when one makes the choice to continue doing the thing everyone is gossiping about. It made everything more… obvious to her.

Scarlet was many things; traits that she knew she had and traits that people who she entrusted told her she had. Paranoid was not on the list of said traits. She had never had a reason to be paranoid. Perhaps she did now. Jealousy can make a person do terrible things, especially when the person believes they are more entitled to whatever the object of their envy has. Boys don’t like when they are shown up by girls who are supposedly smarter than they are. Little rich boys hate it more than anything else in the world.

The twenty-some year old college goers who sat in front of and across her in Professor Jones’ class, only looking behind or to the side of them when he called on her for every question he asked the students. She was smart, but they all had reason to believe he was favoring her over one thing. Her good looks and time available after school. Everyone had heard about their little arrangement, with her as his ‘apprentice’ though she had never done any work in the field. It all seemed too suspicious for a young girl to be residing at her Professor’s home every other day. Her test scores didn’t lie, but the boys in the class did not exactly have access to those. They only saw what was right in front of their eyes, and it looked to them like a scandal. Teacher’s pet, the favorite of them all. She had what they couldn’t have. They couldn’t possibly look at their own merit and decide that it was the real reason for their lacking, so they insisted it must be the fact that she was getting special attention.

There were two boys in particular, that were especially miffed about her enhanced situation. They had discussed it with one another and took it upon themselves to be the voice of reason, deciding it would be best if she were brought down a few pegs. Just enough to be sure that she wouldn’t feel as high and mighty anymore.

They waited by the glass case of school awards in the hallway closest to Professor Jones’ classroom, pretending to be in full conversation whilst their colleagues walked by. Some of them entered the class, completely unaware of what the foolish boys planned to do.

Down the hall came Scarlet Ledger, accompanied by none other than Henry Jones. No other heads were turned as they walked, however, for it was a rather busy time of day, and the students were more focussed on getting to their next class, rather than who they saw in the way of their destination. Last night, they had gone over a series of notes from an old friend of his, who was unable to finish an expedition on an artifact he’d spent years preparing to find. Having received the journals and maps from the retired associate was like being handed the answers to a test. It was all there, and all he had to do now was go out and find it. She had been helping him to figure out the little details, and now the discussion was if she would be joining him or not on this wild endeavor. He, of course, claimed it was too dangerous for a first timer to be brought along on such an elaborate journey.

“You should start with something more local, like I did,” he turned to her, trying to convey that he did not think her unable, but only inexperienced in the field thus far to take on something so big.

“It’s not like I’m going alone,” she replied with a small laugh. He made it sound like she would be single handedly making the trek to the treasure. It was a silly notion to think that he was so worried, when he himself was running point on the entire thing. “Not to overestimate you Professor Jones, but I believe you have the ability to defend me if the need should arise. Not that I think it will, I’ll only be assisting you when needed, hence the title of ‘Apprentice.’”

His chuckle was combated by the shake of his head. He knew that eventually he would be giving in to her, because she had this trait of arguing, and just plainly talking her way into something she hadn’t been a part of before. It was often infuriating, but he never walked away from a challenge, even one he knew there was no chance of winning.

“We’ll talk more after school,” he said, temporarily ending the conversation and walking ahead of her to his classroom. She stopped in her tracks, smiling like a ten year old school girl that was about to be on summer vacation.

He curved his steps, stepping into the doorway and out of her vision. She usually lingered in the hallway for a few moments, as to avoid the stares when she walked in precisely after he did. It sounded ridiculous that she would even make such efforts, but she made the decision consciously, and it often worked.

She kicked her heels over the ground and clutched her books tightly to her chest, wandering about for a few seconds more. She took steps towards the door, but collided with two young men, and had to back away quickly.

“I’m so sorry,” she looked to the floor, where one of the boy’s papers had been dropped. She knelt quickly and grabbed them before the breezy open hallway could send them fluttering about. She stood back up to face them with a smile, handing the shorter boy his papers back. “You’ll have to excuse me, I’m afraid I’m a bit clumsier than usual.”

They didn’t say anything, just stood there and stared at her. Strange boys, she thought. She attempted to simply nod and pass around them, but the taller one blocked her way, making himself like a brick wall between her and her favorite class.

“Pardon me,” she said sweetly, trying once more to walk around him but failing to do so when the other boy decided to also stand in her way. She was peeved, but wouldn't show it on her face. “Gentlemen, I am very sorry for bumping into you, but I really need to get to my class.”

“Hear that, Jim? She really needs to get to her class,” the taller boy said tauntingly. She furrowed her brow, misunderstanding why they could possibly have the need to bother her at this precise moment. She recognized them, they sat in front and across from her. Shouldn’t they also be running along to be seated in time?

“I think Professor Jones can do without his pet for a few minutes,” the other one spoke with a humorless chuckle. It was clear to her now that they had meant to hold her up, and probably to start a scuffle. These boys were obviously clued into the rumors and false gossip that spread through the halls, but actually having the balls to instigate a fight over it was a rarity.

“Please, if you could just let me pass,” she tried once more to barrel through the small gap between them, but they shoved her back, and she tumbled to the side a little from the force. She readjusted her grip on her books, trying to compose her posture once more. This all seemed so juvenile, like they would be the school bullies on an elementary school playground.

“No, I don’t think I will,” one laughed, taking a step closer to her with crossed arms, the other followed. It was beginning to make her feel uneasy, and her usually confident stature was caving in upon being forced into a corner.

As uneasy as the boys made her, she still tried her best to talk her way out. “Honestly, gentlemen. What are we, children? We all have a class to attend. I doubt you want to be late and risk missing important material.”

“I’ll take my chances,” the taller one said as he took a step closer.

Henry was nothing if not observant, and furthermore, he was intricately observant. When the pair of boys walked into his class three minutes late, along with the fact that his best student was still missing from the crowd, he was able to deduce that something happened in the short time he was separated from her, and it involved the two of them. He didn’t know how, but he was quite sure. It was also notable that the two young men were the ones that sat closest to her in the room. She didn’t have a deskmate, for obvious reasons, so the fact that they were in the near vicinity also made him think that they were involved somehow. She was never late, and she was never one to ditch a class of any kind, much less her favorite.

“Looking for someone?” one of the students asked, clearly referencing the teacher’s pet. It was funny, or at least the rest of the class thought so, breaking into small fits of quiet giggles that filled the classroom. Henry was far from amused, and did not even hesitate to ask about his prized student.

“Has anyone seen Miss Ledger?”

The question reverberated against the walls of the room, and made everyone quiet down. There was a hand that had been raised in the very back, it was the boy who had come in late, and sat directly across from Scarlett on most days. After being pointed at, the boy wore a proud look on his face, the expression was enough to send adrenaline coursing through Henry’s veins.

“I saw her in the hallway only a minute ago. She seemed to be going mad, something about needing to get home so she could find more trousers,” he said, his comedic tone indicating it may have been partially a joke. The classroom again erupted into muffled laughter, but the look on their professor’s face made them straighten up very quickly.

He wasn’t exactly worried over her, per se, but now very paranoid as to what really occurred in that hallway when he had left her there. She wouldn’t just miss a class for the reason of finding a new pair of trousers. She was his most dedicated student, and would walk through hell or high water to be in her seat by the time attendance was taken. It all just seemed too suspicious for his liking, and as annoyed as he was, he heaved a sigh, continuing his class.

“Everyone, pay attention,” he began, droning on all the notes he had prepared with Scarlet the evening before.

She did not leave his mind the entirety of his lesson, which made sense, given half the time he read from the papers, it was her perfect handwriting that was scrawled over the small lines. He was thankful for the release of the bell ringing through everyone’s ears when the hour was over. He only had two classes in the day, and once they were done, he was free to either sit in the Professor’s lounge, or go home. He’d much prefer to go home, considering the circumstances he’d been met with on this particular day. Avoiding the multitudes of female students as he left his office, he nearly ran to his car in the lot, trying his best not to seem like he was in a hurry. The rumors had been heard by his ears, too, and he didn’t want to give anyone fuel for the fire.

He got home fairly quickly, which was all well and good, but the thing was that he didn’t have the slightest clue of what to do with himself once he’d entered his front door. It seemed ridiculous for him to be acting this way, as he wasn’t even sure of what had happened, but he assumed it was nothing good. He tried to calm himself by sitting on the couch in his office, reading over some of the things they’d started marking out for the expedition. He had maybe distracted himself for an hour before his doorbell rang out.

He jumped from his seat, scattering the papers and taking large steps towards the door. He wasn’t sure what he was expecting to see when he opened the door, but the lovely image of Scarlet Ledger wearing a skirt was not on the list. She had made it more than clear in the time they spent together that she had a distaste for skirts because of some not very fond memories in her youth, and yet here she stood in a fitted tweed skirt that started high on her waist and fell just under her knees. Her sweater was the same cream one that she had been in earlier, but the skirt was not even close to her favorite chocolate brown trousers.

Pants are more comfortable, she always said, and they leave no room for impish schoolboys to mess around and flip them over your head when your back is turned.

His furrowed brows were uncontrollable, and it made her feel even worse about the situation than she already had. His eyes that scanned her up and down about three times more were not because of his dislike, but because of his shock. Truly, this was the last thing he ever thought he’d see her wear.

“Sorry I’m late,” she said, a cheerful smile as if nothing had happened that day. “May I come in?”

He shook his head to get rid of the nasty feeling, giving her a tight lip smile that was unconvincing next to the one he always gave her when she first arrived.

“I already started marking out the route on the map,” he said while stepping aside to let her in. Feeling the hem of her skirt brushing against his leg felt so strange, and he wasn’t sure if she was ever going to fess up to the reason why she was wearing it in the first place, but he wouldn’t bother her about it, yet.

“You were supposed to wait for me,” she sighed out, slightly disappointed that he hadn’t paid attention to her words from last night. It had been one of the things she was most excited about. The location had been found, but it was the journey to said location that would hold all the fun that was finding such an artifact.

“I didn’t think you were coming.”

At this she stopped, turning around and nervously looking him over. It didn’t seem like he knew anything, but she had to be sure.

“I always come after school,” she murmured, like it was the most obvious thing in the world.

“Well sure, but when you didn’t show up to class, I had my doubts that you’d show up here,” he was nonchalant, but something inside him was irritated. That way she was so perfectly calm, much less while wearing a skirt. She didn’t seem to have any problem in the facts of her absence, and acted as though it never happened at all. “Speaking of which, I’d like to know why you missed my class?”

She stood awkwardly with her hands folded behind her back. She seemed very stiff, and he figured it must be the effects of her wearing the skirt. She seemed far less confident, boreline uncomfortable, which never happened in his presence. He’d made it clear what he thinks of her, and she’d never felt the need to mask her personality, nor her spunky attitude.

“Oh? Yes, I’m sorry to have worried you,” she paused, straightening up slightly before looking him in the eye as she lied to his face. “I was lingering in the hallway, and felt a bit nauseous, so I decided to stand outside for a minute. Unfortunately, there was a bump in the doorstep that I hadn’t seen before… I fell down and scuffed up my trousers, so I went home to change before walking here.”

The look of utter ‘this is horseshit’ on his face when she finished speaking was so evident, she had to look away in order to prevent herself from faltering. Truth be told, the thing he found most amusing was just how rehearsed the story had sounded. It was so well gone over in her head, and he could hear it in the evened spaces of her words.

“Is that the story you’re sticking with?” he tilted his head with an unconvinced expression.

She stopped for a second to think about her response, because clearly he wasn’t buying into any of this. She knew he wouldn’t, but the truth was far more embarrassing and she’d rather not have to retell the events of which she fell into this afternoon.

“It’s the one I have decided on, yes," she turns back to walk towards his office, choosing not to elaborate further. She decided that her response was good enough, and continued as if she wasn’t being incredibly vague and unconvincing.

He would get to the bottom of it, but if she was this defensive over what had happened, he would need to let her become comfortable again. She looked so out of place in a home she had resided in more than her own.

As they got started, he neglected to mention anything about the incident. He joined in the act of pretending all was well, but it didn’t settle her like he thought it might. As the night went on, she perhaps got even more tense than she was when she had arrived.

He watched her as she sat, decidedly uncomfortable in her attire. Her posture was not nearly as good as it normally was. Even when she is half asleep, she sits straight as an arrow, as if a string had been pulled through the entirety of her spine and was holding her up. Her shoulders were always back. It was so natural for her, that normally he would have thought a slumped and curved position was not possible.

Looking at her now, the best way he could describe her stature would be curled. She was curled in on herself. As though she was hiding, or protecting herself from something. It almost appeared that she was trying to shrink in on her already small form.

“Are you ready to talk about it now, or should I wait a little longer and make you a cup of tea?” Professor Jones tries his best to make his voice light and teasing, but the smile he has that often makes her grin back doesn’t even cause a twitch of her lips. Strange. She barely even glanced at him.

“Talk about what?” She just opens the file in front of her and starts to flip through it. She was clearly going to try and sweep it under the rug. He decided to let it go for now, hoping the work will distract them both enough to get back to normal. That is, until she shifts slightly and her skirt rides up her leg. Even through her stockings, he can see the bruise blossoming. Her knee was also partially skinned, the dried red that would become slightly scared was evident.

“Alright, I’m sorry,” he closed his book and tossed it aside, uncaring where it landed for the moment. “I was going to let it go, but now I can’t. What actually happened? And don't give me the ‘I tripped’ story again. You don’t get bruises on your lower thigh from tripping on a doorstep.”

Her face froze, and she shifted her skirt down to cover her knees again. It was too late to make up another story on the spot, not one convincing enough anyway. The best one she had come up with was the one he’d seen through the entire time. She sighed out and dropped her eyes to her hands. Her pride kept her from admitting what happened, because in her mind, nothing was more embarrassing than being treated the way she was for such unjustifiable reasons. She trusted her Professor, and he made her feel safe, but this was different. It concerned him.

Neither one of them had spoken about the circulating rumors, just let them hang in the air and ignored the stares from people as they walked by. Confronting the gossip meant that things might change, and she didn’t want them to. She was perfectly fine with the after school arrangement, the late nights that were ever so productive.

“There were two boys in the hallway that blocked me from getting to class,” she began, still looking down, and missing as his fist clenched against his palm. He knew those boys were up to no good, he’d been able to tell just by the way they walked in. “They shoved me into a corner and tried to get me to admit to… something. I denied it and they got upset, so they grabbed me by my pockets and tossed me to the ground. My trousers had gotten completely torn, and my leg was scuffed up, too.”

She rushed out the last of the words, and had to slowly even her breath so she wouldn’t cry. She’d cried her entire walk home, and decided after she changed that she wouldn’t cry over it again. It wasn’t like her to be so offended, but the things they said hurt more than the bruises and scrapes. She’d try and avoid telling him if she could, but of course, his curiosities were ever present.

“What did they try to get you to admit? You haven’t killed anyone, have you?” He said, his humor entering the scene even in this moment which was serious. She huffed a small laugh, feeling a bit better as she prepared herself for this next step. She needed to choose her words carefully, because what she said now would determine how things would go for the next several months.

“Professor, I think you may have been hearing rumors at school lately, ones concerning you and I,” she said slowly, watching for his reaction and eventually receiving a nod from him. Of course he’d heard the rumors, everyone had. She was surprised that the entire University faculty and staff hadn’t heard by now. “My classmates are convinced that because of such things that I am receiving special treatment.”

“You are receiving special treatment,” he reasoned, but she shook her head, and he gestured for her to continue.

“Not for doing the things they think I am,” she let out, the first tear escaping her eye, marking out a path on her cheek and dropping down to bleed a small stain onto her shirt. After that, more started following, and she couldn’t hold the choked sounds out of her voice any longer, either. “I have been called a lot of things in my life, most I can take, but for boys who claim to be gentlemen to corner me in a hallway and accuse me of prostituting myself for grades before throwing me down and calling me a whore is probably one of the worst feelings I’ve ever felt in my life.”

She instinctively did what she’d always done as a child. She sought comfort from outer warmth, from being touched. She wrapped her arms around herself and brought her knees to her chest, laying her chin atop her arms and closing her eyes tightly. She hated that she was breaking down here, in one of the only places she could seek comfort in, but thinking back to her horrible experience, and thinking that there could be plenty more ahead waiting for her was suffocating. She couldn’t help how pathetic she looked or sounded, though she’d like to bet she’ll regret it later.

She heard shifting in the room, and felt a dip in the couch beside her. She looked up to meet his eyes, and he placed a hand on her shoulder, using the other to take his glasses off and set them on the table. She had seen him without them before, as he usually discarded them when he grew tired, but she’d never been so close up to really see what he looked like without them. He looked younger, boyishly handsome.

“I’m sorry,” he was so soft spoken, and his eyes held so much compassion. He was a man in this field. He’d never had to deal with anything of this sort in his life, so he could never understand how devastating it must be to commit yourself to your studies and be treated like there was some ulterior motive, simply because of gender. He would never know how it feels to be called such things or be bullied over stupid jealousies. “I’ll make sure they get what they’re owed, alright?”

Immediately she turned to him with wide teary eyes, shaking her head rapidly. “No, please. If you involve yourself, It will only look worse.”

“I can’t just let it go. This is far more serious than you seem to be grasping-"

"Professor, I understand perfectly fine!"

"No, Scarlet, you clearly don't. What they did was wrong, no matter what reason they had," he pushes past the fact that he just called her by her first name. In every closeness they had by now achieved, that had been a line which wasn’t crossed until this moment.

His assertive tone made her straighten up her spine, and she forced onto her face a look of indifference. She knew he was only trying to help, but she would not let this get out of hand. She already earned a bad reputation on account of nothing but good natured studying and commitment to her field, and she would at some point have to draw the line as to where she stood in all of this.

“Professor Jones, I must insist that you do not say anything to the young men in your class. As much as I appreciate your willingness to help my case, I think it would be a bad idea to let you defend me, now.”

He seemed peeved, but not completely annoyed. Curious as he was to her reasoning, he felt it ridiculous to neglect his attempts. Why would she push away someone who was trying to help her?

“And why is that?”

She had to take a deep inhale in order to look him in the eye when she spoke her next words.

“Because they expect you to,” she was trying to convey the unspoken words to him as appropriately as possible, but of course, Henry was never as lady-like.

“Because they think we’re sleeping together.”

Well, bingo. He’d hit it right on the nose, and she had to duck her head to hide her flushed cheeks from his stone gaze. “Yes, that would be why.”

He sat back in his seat, looking at other objects in the room, and hoping they would help him to think about a solution. He couldn’t help but feel like this was a rather out of his hands situation. The students of his class had made up their minds about her, but maybe he could change that. Perhaps, he could expose the boys for their actions without calling on them directly.

“But we aren’t sleeping together.”

“No. We are not.” She tries hard to keep her voice level, though he can hear the slight catch in it. She’s still trying to hold back tears.

Henry sighs, running a hand through his hair. “Look,” he starts, “it’s one thing to be accused of something you aren’t doing when it’s only rumors. They crossed a line when they approached you physically, and there has to be a way to address it.”

Again, she looked scared, or at least rather uncomfortable with his suggestion. He hadn’t been finished though, and held up his hand to allow room to continue.

“I have a friend in the office who owes me a favor. He might be able to address them without anyone else knowing about it, or that you ever told me anything.”

This, she decided, was a solution worth trying for. Her subtle nod made him quirk a small smile from the corner of his mouth. He nodded once too, and squeezed her shoulder as he leaned further back into the couch. She had begun relaxing immediately after that, and he felt he’d done something right in all this.

She was only to be his student, but he could not deny he wanted to protect her from such things as these. He’s not always the kindest hearted person in the world, but he felt that perhaps he may have done the same for another girl in his class, as it was simply the right thing to do. He wasn’t so sure, though, that he would be so gentle and tender around her like he was now with Scarlett. He tread so delicately, because God help him, he cared so much about how she reacted to things. His attachment to what was only supposed to be his student had far surpassed what should be considered normal.

Never before had he ever had a ‘teacher’s pet’ or a ‘professor’s lackey’, but it was plain as day to anyone, now. Scarlett Ledger was his favorite student.

“Thank you,” she started smiling at him, now knowing that her reputation would not be further damaged, and her assaulters would receive punishment. There was also another reason. “For helping me.”

“It’s no problem. What they did is not acceptable from anyone in my class, their actions will have consequences.”

They settled it there, and continued on with the work being done. Papers littered the floor an hour later as they worked, and though the hour was late, there was still so much to be done before the expedition took place. The question of her going still hung in the balance, and she had hoped that with all the work and time she had devoted, and perhaps a bit of Henry’s guilt from this situation being caused, he would allow her to join him.

He had been sat on the floor by now, handing papers and notes he’d written down to her where she sat on the couch, but as he went over some journal entries of the dear friend of his that handed this adventure over to him, he neglected to realize that the soft shuffle of papers behind him, along with the quiet sound of a pencil moving had ceased. When he finished with the journal entry, he had marked the lines he had wanted her to see and was about to hand it over… but when he turned around, Scarlett had fallen into a restful sleep. Her head laid on the arm of the couch, and her arms wrapped around herself to keep warm without a blanket.

He knew that in the groove he fell into that he wouldn’t be able to sleep for several more hours, but he didn’t want to just leave her on the couch in his office as he ruffled about his work when there was a perfectly comfortable and warm bed in his spare room. Normally, he would wake her, have her walk to the room herself and ready for the night… but she had gone through a hard day, and this was the first time since this morning that he had truly seen her relaxed. It would be just cruel to make her leave her state of slumber when he was very capable of just transporting her himself.

He sighed and stood up, careful when he lifted her from the couch, and trying his best not to crash into anything or trip over the items on the floor when he moved between rooms. Thankfully, he made it safely into the spare room with little to no obstacles, and set her on the bed as gently as he could. He rid her of the shoes she wore before tucking her in beneath the sheets and duvet that used to remain untouched until her nighttime stays. She turned her head on the pillow, her brow furrowing a small bit when she faced him. He hoped she hadn’t woken up, otherwise he just spent meticulous time in carrying her all for nothing. She took in a deep breath before releasing it, and her face returned to normal. Her expression was bliss, and he found himself staring for longer than he would care to admit.

Standing here, a thought entered and left his mind in a fleeting manner. It simply came, and went… but caused him to think more. The thought in question? She’s so beautiful. It would bury him, that thought. He begged his mind to never think it again, but on that tangent, a whole new slew of thoughts along those lines began to pile in his head like dug up dirt.

He needed to leave the room, that would help.

“You’re gonna get me in some real trouble, kid.”

He walked out and back to his office, continuing to study his work, but finding that he retained no information on the account of his racing thoughts yet again. He sat back and raked a hand through his hair and down over his face before leaning forward to try and perhaps balance out all these intrusive thoughts with things he found annoying. He started with just a few things he often found to be peeving or invasive: She nags at him about the temperature he keeps his home, finding it too difficult to focus if she’s cold. She is constantly telling him how bad his handwriting is, hoping he will make an effort to write more legibly for her own sake. She reorganizes his work often, and it bothers him that he can’t find anything afterwards without her help. She raided his kitchen the first day she arrived, and mocked his eating habits while doing so… but in all fairness, she did make dinner and stop the work to allow time to eat. She had also been the one to help him arrange lessons when he was falling behind from other work. She was there to talk with him when he’d been stressed about the day from the events that occured. She was-

It was right then that he realized how truly and downright domestic their relationship had become. It washed over him in the most uncomfortable way, and clung to him like wet clothes on your back. He tossed the paper in his other hand to the floor and tried his best to make sense of any of it… but whenever he thought he was getting close to an answer it returned to bite him in the ass through a new slew of questions.

This type of thinking was dangerous. They had crossed so many lines that should never have been crossed without even realizing. He hadn’t wanted to believe there would ever be any weight to the rumors at the University, but sitting here alone in this room, having just tucked Scarlett into bed one room over, he suddenly felt completely and totally wrecked.

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