#but go ahead and ignore the big red flag if you want to

[aidansplaguewind]

To the other anon, please send a link to any kind of proof that Benedict said any such things. Evidence is crucial, or it's just rumors, which should be taken with a grain of salt, if even that.

That's fair.

But I'm telling you man, something ain't right about him.

I mean, him saying "colored people" is fact and that's enough for me.

[konigsblog]

I feel like E-Dater Konig would definitely send you one of those vibrators that's controlled by app/remote just so he can control your pleasure while on the phone with him

oh, FOR SURE. 🖥️🎮

a big part of e-dater könig is his crave for control. he doesn't like whenever you speak to others and play games with them; he believes you should only play with him and no other.

he's a controlling asshole a lot of the time, but you're head over heels for him and ignore his very obvious red flags, like his controlling and manipulative behaviour, as well as his insecurity and jealousy. he believes anyone who tries to talk to you should be blocked. he's easily jealous due to his insecurities and worries that someone will steal you away.

so, it shouldn't surprise you that he tells you to keep a vibrator in your panties while he controls the toy in the midst of playing a game together. he forces you to keep your microphone on so everybody can hear what könig is doing to you, feeling cocky as he has full control.

oh, you want to tell him about your day? go ahead; he'll have some fun with the app on his phone. his cock gets achingly hard at the sound of your sudden gasps and mewls and the way you moan when he turns the sensitivity on high.

fuck, it's addictive. :(

[jujusdiary]

RADIO STATIC- op81

pairing- oscar piastri x fem vettel driver! reader genre- angst (can yall tell i like angst), established relationship warnings- bad bad crash (zhou crash 22 type beat) , mentions of blood summary- when a race goes bad and a small turn one graze ends in a multiple car collision, oscar panics when he is told his girlfriend was involved- and she hasn't answered her engineers calls. not proofread :/ ALSO TYSM ON THE LOVE YALL ARE AMAZINNNNNNN AND MY BAD FOR GOING AWOL LMAO

• —– ٠ ✤ ٠ —– • · keep reading !! · • —– ٠ ✤ ٠ —–

Tensions were high.

Everyone in the garage could feel it, it's like you could cut it with a knife.

"You ready ?" Seb asks, flicking your helmet. You look up at him, smiling behind the halfway lifted visor. Your team at Ferrari are counting on you, and your brother Sebastian came all this way to see you race. He usually tries to watch all of your races, but never in person. So him being here is a big deal to you, as impressing your older brother is everything your little six year old self could've hoped for.

"As ready as i'll ever be." You mutter, flipping your visor down and waving him a quick goodbye as you make your way to the grid. Oscar is the car right beside you, and he waves at you. Dating another driver- especially as a female driver, it can be quite controversial- but people seem to love you and Oscar's interactions. You wave back at him, remembering how he tried to coax you back to bed this morning and baited you with the idea of both you ditching the race and spending the day in bed. Which, when looking into those eyes of his, was highly tempting, but Fred would've killed you. So you managed to pull together some will and tugged both you and him out of bed, sadly having to break away from him to go to your respectful garages.

When the lights finally snap off, you can feel the excitement coursing through your fingertips- and that start is the best you've had all season. From fourth to third in that first corner, going past Oscar and diving past Charles, blowing out a heavy breath.

Silverstone always is a hard race, especially with Charles, your teammate breathing down your neck and Lando so far ahead, you struggling to catch up despite how good the car performed in Quali.

It was all going so smoothly at first.

You were steady in third, ready to overtake Lando infront of you with Charles tailing you close behind. But Charles got greedy and got a little too close as you dived down into the corner, and his front wheel hit your back one, making you spin viciously out of the track and into the gravel, your car hitting the curb and flying up, landing on the halo and sliding it's way towards the barriers, where it flips over again and hits the barriers, hard. Before your vision goes black, you can see other cars spinning out to the gravel, a flurry of orange and red along with some blue, but you can barely keep your eyes open to see more as you can feel your chest cave with pain.

The silence settled in your garage, expemt of your brother, shouting for answers on how you are.

A red flag is called, and all the cars are rallied back into the pits. Sebastian is still trying to understand what happened, hunting down the pit wall and screaming for answers.

"I want answers, dammit ! Is she okay ?" He asks, his voice loud. Not far from the commotion, Oscar climbs out of his car, grumbling to himself. The crash had happened so fast, all he could see was the cars spinning out infront of him. He didn’t have time to ask his engineer who was involved as he dove into the turn, trying to ignore the dust flying up into the sky and into his eyes as a multitude of cars spun out onto the gravel. All he was told was that Lando had a puncture due to the crash and spun out into the gravel along with six other cars. Sebastian’s screams carry throughout the pit lane, and Oscar frowns as he pulls his helmet and balaclava off, tugging the earpieces out of his ears. Sounds swarm him, and his head immediately snaps to the ferrari pit wall. He looks over at his engineer, who ran out to meet him to hand him his water bottle.

“Is Lando okay ?” He asks, his mind somewhere else entirely as he watches the scene with a concerned look on his face. His engineer nods, his face pale.

“Yeah, he’s fine, but Oscar there’s something else-”

“Answer me ! Is she okay ?” Sebastian screams.

“We don’t know ! She isn’t answering !” The pit lane engineer turns back to the console, clicking a button. “Y/n. Y/n, are you okay ? Can you hear us ?” He turns back to Seb after a few minutes shaking his head. Watching the scene, Oscar feels his heart drop into the pits of his stomach.

“She was involved ?” He asks, his voice small.

“Zak told us not to say anything over the radio. Oscar, her car spun out and hit the gravel, and her car got turned. She was upside down on the track. She crashed through the barriers.” His engineer says, licking his lips.

“What..? H-How did this happen ?” He says, his heart pounding behind his ears, the blood coursing in his veins growing cold.

“Charles caused the initial collision- he got too close. Her spinning out caused the other cars to crash- trying to avoid any further damage to her. Look, the stewards are on their way to her now-” Oscar shakes his head as his engineer tries to coax him into the garage, where Lando sits, staring at the TV displaying the crash in horror. He runs over to Sebastian, who is staring at the screen expectantly, tapping his foot on the ground, biting his thumb.

Something is wrong.

“Seb !” He calls as he pants, out of breath as he runs up to the older man. He spins around to greet Oscar, a worried look on his age tired face.

“Oscar.. She’s not answering.” He says, shaking his head. From the corner of his eye, Oscar can see a live replay of the crash. Her car spinning, hitting the curb and flying up momentarily, before falling back down harshly on the halo and skidding towards the barriers at full speed, thudding roughly against them before debris goes flying everywhere, and the smoke from other cars spinning onto the gravel clouds the line of vision.

“What do you mean she’s not answering ?”

“We’ve tried to reach out. All we get is static.” The engineer says, slipping one headphone off his ear to shrug and announce to everyone. Oscar anxiously grabs a pair of headphones from the wall, everyone staring at him with parted lips. No one dares to stop him.

It’s obvious to see how much Oscar loves you. A simple look in your direction has fans going crazy, his eyes speaking more than he ever could. He’s not a very verbal person when it comes to speaking of your relationship in public, especially when he’s asked about it. But whenever you’re around, it’s like he can’t help himself. His hands are always on you, always looking at you, always smiling in your direction or peppering kisses all over your face, nose and cheeks. And the thought of never having you around, never being able to hold you ever again... It makes him sick.

"Y/N, do you copy ?" The engineer asks again, the sound echoing in Oscar's headphones. The silence and static is deafening, but the engineer keeps his hand pressed against the radio to keep the line open, just in case. Oscar throws a worried look over his shoulder at Seb. The blonde man is pacing back and forth, scratching his head, his chest heaving up and down worriedly. Oscar can also see the rest of the drivers, clumped together behind the pit wall, rewatching the twisted replay on the screen, unable to look away.

"Y/N ? We need to know you're okay." The engineer repeats. Another minute of silence follows. Oscar is about to take the headphones off, heart broken and twisted in pain already, when the radio crackles with activity. His head snaps back to attention, and he looks at the slight wobble in the frequency. A strained whimper and gasping breath echoes in his ears, and his chest caves in both relief and more fear. You never answer the question, but he can hear you struggling. You whine as you move around slightly on the driver camera, and a loud cry of pain leaves your lips. You stop moving all together, your heavy and pained whimpers and breaths the only thing Oscar can hear.

"We hear you, Y/N, we hear you. The stewards are on their way to help you." The engineer urges, hoping to reassure you.

"It hurts, Jimmy." You whimper. "Everything hurts."

"I know, okay, I know. Just hold on, they're moving to you now." You whine in pain, and Oscar gulps.

"Let me talk to her." People look at him with wide eyes, confusion stuck on their faces. Without a second thought, Jimmy, the engineer, silently hands over the controls and takes a step back. Clear his throat, Oscar settles down in the seat, still fully clad in his suit, his hair sticking to his head with sweat.

"Baby ? Can you hear me ?"

"Oscar ?" You whisper, your voice small and pained.

"Hi, love."

"You're here." You whimper, soft sobs heard over the crackly line.

"I wouldn't rather be anywhere else. Are you alright, baby ?" He asks, gulping down the own lump in his throat. He knows the answer already, but he just needs more reassurance that your feeling better.

"I can't move." Your voice comes as a whisper, as if your ashamed. "I can't feel my legs." Sobs breaks through the line, and Oscar runs a shaky hand down his face as you continue to cry, his heart splintering and breaking with each of your muffled sobs.

"I'm sorry. I'm so sorry." You sob. Oscar frowns, eyes fluttering closed. Through the line, he can hear the stewards getting close, working through the rubble to get to you.

"What are you sorry for, Y/n ?"

"For ruining the race.. Seb came all this way to watch me race." You chuckle wetly. "I wanted- I needed him to see me win. I dragged him out here for nothing, and I ruined your race. I'm so sorry. I'm so so sorry." You sob, wailing. Oscar turns to face Seb, who is standing there, silent tears falling down his face as he listens. Oscar shakes his head, even though you can't see him.

"You didn't ruin anything baby."

"Promise ?"

"Promise." He mutters, sniffling slightly. You sit together in silence, until you whine and mutter his name.

"Osc. They're here."

"Okay, baby. You need to listen to what they say, okay ? They're going to get you out, and get you to safety." You nod on the driver camera as hands reach out to grab you from above. Hurriedly, he takes the headphones off and slips his suit halfway off, tying it around his waist. Sebastian holds him back.

"Where are you going ? She needs you." He whispers.

"I'm going to her." He says. He pushes Seb towards the headphones. "You should talk to her." He says, nodding his head before breaking out in a run. Oscar's engineer tries to run after him, to warn him not to do anything. But he's already running down the pit exit, right where the crash happened. He can see the smoke lingering in the air, the marshals gathering debris off the track. His chest is heaving in pain as he runs, and he catches a glimpse of your hair. Your helmet has been torn off, laying in the hands of a steward. He finally sees you, laying on the ground on the gurney, ready to be lifted into the open ambulance doors. Just as he's about to break into a run to get to you, he's pushed back by one of the stewards.

"You can't be here."

"I have to see her. You don't understand-"

"What i understand is that you should be in your garage. Not on track." The man says. Oscar tries to sneak a peak of you over his shoulder, but he sees nothing. Defeated he turns around, running his fingers through his hair.

If you're hurt, and he looses you, Oscar wouldn't know what to do with himself.

He runs back to the track, where he's swarmed by Lando and Charles, both equally worried.

"Is she okay ?" Charles asks, his face pale. Your teammate is fiddling with the edges of his suit, a knot tight in his throat. Lando places his hand on Oscar's shoulder.

"Oscar." Lando muttters, searching for his younger teammates eyes. Oscar stammers.

"They wouldn't- They wouldn't let me see her. She wasn't moving, Lando. She-She-"

"But you spoke to her, right ?" Lando urges, eager to cheer the younger boy up. Oscar gulps.

"Yeah, but, she- She wasn't moving.. Why wasn't she moving ? - What if-"

"Hey, hey..." Lando says, pushing Oscar into the Garage, shielding him from the papparazzi eager to capture the scene. "She'll be just fine, okay ? Just fine." He says, just as Seb runs up to Oscar with an even more worried look on his face.

"Oscar !" Oscar breaks away from Lando, running to his girlfriend's brother.

"They just announced that the race isn't picking up again. Oscar, y/n stopped breathing- she's being airlifted to a hospital. They think that uh- something from the car flew out and crushed her chest. They didn't sound hopeful."

"Oh god." Charles mutters, sounding choked up. Oscar feels his world stop spinning. Without thinking, he rushes down the garage and into his driver's room, shaking his head. Lando is following him, trying to get him to calm down.

"I knew it ! I knew something was wrong- Why wouldn't they let me go see her if something wasn't wrong ! I need to get out of here." He mutters as he tears off his suit and slips a pair of sweatpants and a shirt over his fireproofs.

"Oscar, Oscar, mate you need to calm down. Zak isn't just going to let you leave-"

"The race is cancelled, Lando ! I need to see her, okay ? I need to- I need to check that she's okay. I won't be able to live with myself until I know that she's okay." He says, his face snapping over to Lando. The look on Oscar's face seems to be enough to convince Lando, because he nods.

"Okay.. Okay. I'll drive you, you're in no state to drive right now." Oscar nods, following Lando out of the garage. Running to the edge of the paddock, escaping guests and visitors and fans, Oscar can feel the bile rise up his throat.

He left you for five seconds-to go check on you no less.

And you stopped breathing.

What would happen if he stayed away for longer now ?

Before he knew it, he was in the car beside Lando, Seb's car behind the both of them. Lando is swerving through traffic, groaning at every red light. That drive took thirty minutes. Thirty minutes too long. Everyone was leaving the track, dissappointed about the race being moved. When he finally turns into the hospital, Oscar barely waits for the car to stop before jumping out. The hospital lights are almost too bright as he runs in, and too many people are swarming around him. He runs up to the receptionist, shoving people out of his way.

"Sir, i'm sorry, but you can't just-"

"Y/n Vettel. She was in a crash- She just got airlifted here." The receptionsit just stares at him, stammering. Seb and Lando come running up behind him. Oscar can feel his throat start to knot up.

"Please. She's- I need to see her." The woman clears her throat.

"Down the hall, first door to the left. She just got out of surgery, broke both her legs and a few broken ribs." Oscar nods hurriedly, before taking off in a run, rushing down the hall. When he finally sees the room, he pushes the door open with such vigour, Seb fears he might tear the place down. When Oscar spots you in the bed, he swears he left his heart on the race track, smothered underneath the rubbled remains of your car. Both your legs up to the knee are wrapped up in a cast, your face still slightly smeared with blood sticking to your hair. He rushes over to your side, trying to ignore the numbing silence and the beeping of the machines strapped up to you. Lando is standing outside out of respect and Seb ventures into the room just as Oscar drags up a chair to sit beside you. Clearing away any strings and wires, and grabbing your hand.

"Hi, baby.." He mutters, unable to keep in the sobs bubbling up in his chest as he sees your chest rise and fall with breaths.

When you come to, you're unsure of where you are. The last thing you remember is the sky when you were taken out of the car, and then people shouting all around you as you felt your body start to get heavier, to weigh more. And now, when you open your eyes, you find yourself in a dimly lit room, with a heavy weight on your hand and a banging in your skull. You can barely move your toes, and you can finally feel your legs- although you wish you couldn't because they hurt worse than you would've expected. All the noises seem to slowly be coming back. The beeping of machines. Your breath. The quiet. And soft sobs.

"Hi, baby.." A thumb brushes over your hand. A hand reaches up, brushes your hair away from your forehead tenderly. "You're okay... You're okay."

Oscar's voice is loud, directly near your ear. Unable to speak out of fear that your vocal chord might rip, you squeeze his hand. You can hear his gasp.

"Baby ? Y/n ??" He whispers, kissing your temple, his breath shaky. Your eyes slowly open, and you can see your boyfriend's face come into focus.

"O-Osc." You can hear his chest cave with relief.

"Yeah, Yeah, i'm here. I'm here, baby. Seb's here too."

"What happened ?" You manage, your throat dry.

"You were in a crash, baby. Do you remember ?"

Your car, sliding off the track, flying up, skidding on the halo. Hitting the barriers. Your steering wheel, flying out, hitting your chest. Your legs shattering. The world going black.

"I remember.."

"Your legs are broken. But the doctors say you'll be able to race again. You're going to be okay, baby." He says, some effort to try and comfort you. You nod, a tear running down your face.

Seb rushes to the other side of you.

"Hey, sis."

"Seb.. I'm so sorry. I wanted to win it for you. I wanted to show you that I'm a racer."

"I know you are, sis. I know. You don't have to prove anything." Oscar kisses your knuckles, relief blooming in his chest.

You're alive.

That night, Oscar spends it cuddled up beside you, his arm tightly strung around you, his lips pressed to your temple. It reminds you of that same morning, where he begged you to stay in bed with him.

Next time, you think you'll listen.

a/n- okay guys I lowk hate this anyways sorry for being AWOL and uhhhhhhh yeah thats it I have more (better) fics on the way I swear :3

[melanieph321]

Enea Bastianini x Reader - First Date Part 2/3

+18

Part 1

Summary - Enea takes Reader, a tourist, on a first date at a carnival. And later tells her that he is a MotoGP rider.

Enjoy!

Arriving before a big grass field in the middle of the night, made you wonder where Enea had taken you.

"Over here." He whispered and led you towards a hurdle of trucks that stood parked alongside each other.

"Erm, Enea.... what exactly did you say that you do for a living?"

"Just hold on," He chuckled. "I'll show you."

He grabbed your hand and continued to lead you between a row of trucks. Although dark, you could see the rising of a tent somewhere in the distance. If you didn't know better, Enea might be working in the circus. He certainly had the voluminous hair of a clown. If this was the case, it was totally a red flag.

"We're here." Enea paused before a billboard of some sort.

"Why are you whispering?" You were obviously trespassing on private property. There were a few signs back there that stated that one needed a paddock pass to be allowed in the area. However, Enea just walked past those signs, ignoring them completely.

"I wouldn't want to wake up the others." He said.

"Wake up who?"

"My teammate and our crew."

Fuck. He really was from the circus.

"Now, are you ready?"

You were ready alright. Ready to call your parents to come and pick you up from this awful date.

You watch Enea press the buttons on the side of the wall that you stood before. One by one a lamp lit up and shed a light on the giant poster that covered the magnitude of the wall. Your mouth fell open as a giant murual of Enea revealed itself. He was dressed in all leather, posing beside a red motorcycle with the number 23 on it.

"Ducati....Racing." You read of the poster. "You race motorcycles?"

Enea grinned. "Have you ever heard of MotoGP?"

You had. But only because your brothers couldn't stop going on about it ahead of your trip to Italy. They were trying to convince your parents to buy tickets to some Grand Prix that was happening nearby the town you were sight-seeing tomorrow. Little did you know that you had just been taken to that exact town, or near it at least.

"Enea, you never told me that you were...."

"Oh shit, paddock security!"

He pulled you behind a truck as a scooter was heard approching in the distance.

"Come on. They're over here!" A voice said.

"Fuck." Enea sighed. Security had spotted you, or perhaps the lit up poster had given you away.

"What should we do?" You said, quite unsure om how much trouble you would be in if security caught you. Wasn't this Enea's workplace? Wouldn't he be allowed to walk around the paddock freely, or was that only during daytime?

"Do you trust me?"

"Huh?" You turned to find Enea staring at you. He had a dent between his brows, as if he really needed you to answer his question.

"I trust you." You nodded.

"Good. Follow me."

Enea's fingers intertwined with yours as he once again led you through a town of trucks. However, this time he led you around the back of them, avoiding security and at the sametime taking you deeper into the paddock and further away from his motorcycle. The same motorcycle that was suppose to give you a ride home.

"We can wait here until they leave."

"Where?"

You had come to a stop in front of one of the trucks. This one had a door attached to it. Enea inserted a key that opened the door, reveling the large room that hid inside of it.

"Do you live here?" You step through the door, regarding the room. It was like a caravan of some sort, with a bed in the corner and other homely decorations, like a TV and small kitchen.

"Yes, it's my motorhome." Enea explained. "Sometimes I stay here during a race weekend. But I mostly stay at hotels along with the rest of my team."

"And do you bring a lot of girls here to stay with you?"

"What, no?" He frowned.

"I'm just saying, you seemed really eager to bring me here."

"Yes, to show you what I do for a living. You told me that you had no idea."

"I didn't." Would it have changed things if you did? You already found Enea attractive upon meeting him, but if you had known who he was beforehand, would you still gone on a date with him?

"Y/N." Enea approched you, but left an arms length between you. "If you want me to take you back to Rimini, I will. I just have to do it when no one sees, otherwise there'll be consequences that I can't afford to deal with right now."

"Consequences? Like what?"

"Well, if the media caught us there might be some rumors about me sneaking a girl into my motorhome in the middle of the night."

"As if you haven't done that before." You snorted.

"I haven't, I swear. "

"Right."

"Y/N, trust me. You're the first girl I've ever brought with me to a paddock, other than my mother of course. But she's.....well she's my mother."

Your laugh caught you off guard. However, Enea seemed genuinely distressed that the two of you would get caught. Perhaps he wasn't lying.

"I have to be back in Rimini before breakfast. My parents can't know that I was gone all night."

Enea nodded. "I'm not racing until Friday, I'll take you back to Rimini first thing in the morning. "

"Okay."

"Great." Enea looked around his motorhome, searching for something. "Here, have this."

"A t-shirt?" You held it out before you. It was black and pink with the words Bestia written on it. "Wait, are you giving me your merchandise?"

"Yes, to sleep in."

"Oh."

"But if you prefer to sleep in your dress..."

"No, it's.....fine." You hugged the shirt in your arms. "Do you have somewhere I can change?"

"Change?" It took him a minute to comprehend. His eyes widened when he did. "Shit, of course." He pointed somewhere down the hall. "There's a bathroom to your right.

"Thanks."

You locked yourself in the small bathroom and paused in front of the mirror. What in the world was happening? Was this really your life? At first you thought you were going out with a man-child who loved riding ferris wheels. Turns out that he was some local hot shot motorcycle rider, with the hair of a clown, but no affiliations to the circus. Or perhaps he had? You could imagine that racing motorcycles meant a life on the road, much like people in the circus. After all, Enea did mention that he took his time to visit is family in Rimini, which you assumed only happened when he was racing here. Nevertheless, you didn't know that much about the sport or Enea, to make an accurate guess. Perhaps getting to know him was something you should try to do now that you knew who he really was.

"How do I look?"

Enea stood by the kitchen sink when you stepped out of the motorhome bathroom. He stood with his phone in hand, checking his screen. However, his head lifted as you reenterd the room, wearing his Bestia t-shirt.

"It's a bit big, but I guess it works as a pyjamas."

Enea regarded you curiously, his gaze traveling up and down, stopping somewhere below your chin. "It's yours if you like to keep it."

You looked to the shirt and then back at him. "What if I'm not a fan?"

"Of me?"

You shook your head, which made him grin.

"Perhaps I can make you my fan?"

"Oh yeah, and how exactly would you do that?"

Enea stepped forward, daring to close the gap between you this time. His hands then fell on each side of your waist, railing you in until your foreheads knocked together.

"I'm sorry that this date didn't go as planned?" He said, his dark curls a veil between your eyes.

"Who said that?" You smiled.

"Well, you didn't look to have that much fun at the carnival."

"I'm having fun now."

He chuckled. "Is that so?"

"Yes. Do you know what would be even more fun?"

"What?"

"If you fucked me on that bed right there."

"What bed? That bed?" Enea was quick to shift his head. He looked back at you with a newfound thrill in his eyes.

"Jupp, that bed right--"

You let out a shriek as you were tossed over Enea's shoulder. He carried you across the motorhome, plotting you down on his bed.

"Enea." You giggled.

"Are you sure about this. You have to be sure?" He said, voice low but not demanding. The way he was looking at you though, your body and your legs, made your answer easier than it should have been.

"I'm sure. Fuck me."

Part 1

[tarantinolovesmyfeet]

Devotion and Desire

Summary: Nymeria finally lands in Kingslanding, but they are in the middle of a political game.

part 1

The trip from Drone was long, too long, Nymeria had gotten her sea legs but was ill the majority of the time. Barely well, Cedra dressed Nymeria up in a golden dress, there was a blood-red jewel in the bodice, and the stitching was red. The colors made her skin smooth and made her look like she was glowing. She wore a headpiece of golden chain wrapped in her hair, bold with a blood-red jewel.

“You look beautiful, my lady,” Cedra said with a smile, looking over the shaking girl. “Don’t be nervous.”

“They won’t accept me.”

“No, they might not.” She said, now fixing the chain in her hair, as she had a slight curl at the end of her hair. “But I feel like they will.”

Cedra gave her lady a warm smile, and her eyes were wise beyond her years, causing Nymeria to relax as she grabbed her hands, clinging to them for dear life. They stood alone in the young Taygaren's room, trying to settle her nerves.

“Sister.” She heard outside her chambers, causing her to inhale deeply before sighing, as Cedra smiled encouraging her.

“Brother.”

“May I come in?” He asked still at the door waiting for her to respond, as the girl shook whatever nerves.

“Yes.”

Her brother Darvos walked in, and he was in a mustard robe, which clung to his body and made his skin like butter. He smiled, walking into the room, walking with more authority than he ever had before. His sword was nestled by his hand, and his dark hair looked inky under the golden sun coming from outside. Darvos looked over at his sister, smiled at her, and then back at Cedra. “You’ve done it again.” He said to Cedra but grabbed Nymeria's hand, clasping it and pulling her towards him.

“Truly beautiful Nymeria, you look like a princess.”

“I- thank you.” Nymeria smiled over at her brother, and he smiled back. He was different, more confident, more a figure in charge than he had been this whole time on the ship. It was worrisome that he was acting this way.

“It’s the Dornish way.” He said when she questioned him.

There was no greeting because they came as a surprise, but she settled up on starfyre and saw the looks from others. She held her head up high as the whispers became increasingly loud. She knows her sliver hair is enough to get people going, and she kept her head up high while she rode starfyre. She could see the many ladies whispering and talking to one another from the corner of her eye. She wanted to crawl into her skin before she was to ignore them; she saw a man, a big board man looking over at her. She tried to look at him dead on, but she was told to not look at anyone yet. She felt his eyes on her, and her skin burned; she wondered what he thought. She glanced just a second and saw a handsome man; he looked strong with a head full of curls. She gave a gentle smile, and as he smiled back, nodding his head, she quickly looked back ahead. She did not want to let anyone know her face yet

But he saw it

And she allowed him to see it.

She wondered if he would wonder if he found her beautiful or graceful; would he wonder about her? Her thoughts scratched the back of her mind as she did of him. She let her mind wander, thinking of him of his strength; she thought of his curls, softening his face. She felt her stomach filled with butterflies and couldn’t contain the burning feeling within her skin.

Before she knew it, she was greeted by the king and the new young queen herself. The Queen's eyes widen, seeing the sliver hair riding on a Dornish house. King Viserys looked interested and amazed as they rode in with their horses and house banner flag high in the sky. Her mouth was dry, and her voice caught in her throat; her tongue pushed against her tongue as she looked at them. She was trying to keep all cool, but her body now burning from anticipation rather than from a smile and warm hazel eyes looking at her.

“Lady Nymeria Targaryen, lady of Dorn, house of Dayne.” She was announced and her breath was gone, and her eyes saw black spots.

“Targaryen?” Queen Alicent whispered to her husband and king, looking over toward Nymeria with many questions.

“Yes, Queen Alicent,” Darvos said now getting down his horse with ease, as he looked up to her with a dashing smile. “You see, my sister is a Targaryen as her birthright.”

“Impossible.” The hand spoke spitting out the words now glaring at the pair, especially at Nymeria as she looked down at him, with her violet hues.

“She is Targaryen as your king, she is a cousin,” Darvos said over to the young queen.

“Her dear mother was a Targaryen and should be treated as such. My sister, of silver hair and violet eyes, is the blood of the dragon,” he continued, looking over at King Viserys. “And it is her birthright to be here, to celebrate with the Princess.”

“Or to take the heir.” Otto sneered as Nymeria looked over at King Viserys with a soft but charming smile. She unmounted her horse, slowly in a theatrical way, to show she was regal, to show that she belonged. She reached the king and queen and bowed deeply, before rising up to look at the pair of them.

“I do not want to sit on the throne, my king.” She said to him. “I wish to be with family; my mother would have wanted that.”

“I’m sure she would, King Viserys this is impossible, this is a fake come here to take-“

“I am just a mere woman.” Nymeria cut him off, staring at Otto as if her eyes were sharpening a sword. “up here in your lands, women could not be an heir. I know the Princess is, and she is the rightful heir, in my eyes, raised as a Dornish woman and as the King says, but she is a rarity and not what is familiar. Before standing in this court, I would not dare put my head on the pike. I want to be family.” She said, looking over at Viserys. “that is all.”

Viserys looked over at her, almost examining her to see if she is the blood of a dragon. She allowed him to look her over, as she felt her hands were sweaty, she was nervous and she prayed her voice did not rattle while speaking to the hand.

“And who is your mother or father?” Visery asked, looking over at her as she gave a furlong smile.

“Saera Targaryen, my king.” His eyes widen a bit as he looked over at her, and as she rolled her lips between her lips keeping a steady hand.

“Little Saera?” He asked, gobsmacked as she nodded his head, and he let out a belly laugh. “I know Daemon got it from someone, Targaryen’s always wild a dragon and hot blooded too. Come here little one,” he said to her as Nymeria's hands shook even more, and her legs barely kept her up, she walked to the king feeling Alicent eyes on her.

“You look so much like your mother.” He said now pulling her into a hug, and she smiled over at him. “You are more than welcomed in my home.”

Otto was extremely irate but hid it too late for Darvos, he snarled his lip before walking into the king's home and protecting his sister. If he didn’t, who would?

Visery was very friendly to the newcomers, especially Dorne newcomers, while Otto was dismissive, which caused Darvos to make a remark back. Nymeria would share looks with Visery as they were in this sinking ship together.

“They say Dornish people are free with themselves,” Otto said, now looking over at Nymeria as she furrowed her eyebrows.

“If you mean in a sexual way, then yes, they are,” she remarked back with a shoulder shrug. “It’s very different here than it is in Dorne. Women are treated as equals rather than a shadow to their husbands.”

Otto peered an eyebrow over at her as she smiled over at him.

“It’s truly intriguing to see the different customs.”

“You are a Targaryen as you say then you have plenty.” He almost sneered but Darvos looked over at the king with a small winning smile. “Indeed.” The golden skin woman did back to him.

“Where is the Princess?” She asked, ignoring Otto.

“No doubt flying her dragon,” Visery said with a smile as her eyes widen. “You’ve never seen a dragon before?”

“No.” She shook her head with a smile, and eyes wide in wonderment. “I like to see one.”

“Yes, they truly are a marvel to look at,” Visery said. “When Rhenayera comes, you can go to the dragon pit.”

“Truly?”

Nymeria excitedly asked as her brother smile over to her even though she could see him being worried.

“Oh, that would be wonderful.”

“Wouldn’t it be Darvos?” Otto smirked into his cup as Nymeria stared at the hand with distempered; she couldn’t believe this man was so cruel, even loud about it in front of the king. Dornes and Dragons usually don’t get along. Nymeria knew that as she could see her brother's unease, but she always wondered about dragons. Her mother always talked about dragons, so it was hard not to follow suit. She wanted to be a dragon rider and bond with her mother, but she never felt the bond as she had no dragon. Even as an outcast in Dorne and now an outcast with the Targaryens, she watched her brother play the game with Otto, alicent doting on the king, and the king talking about history. Nymeria sat there in her thoughts as she listened to him with a soft smile.

That's when she heard the dragon cry out; Nymeria's ear perked up as she turned her head to look out the window, in passing seeing a Sliver of blonde hair flying behind them perched onto a yellow dragon. Nymeria's eyes widen in wonder, and a smile big on her face, causes Visery to watch the girl with a smile of his own. He knew a Targaryen when he saw one, and she was it.

She was waiting for the girl to make herself known, and Nymeria could feel her hands getting sweaty. The dornish girl was excited yet nervous about meeting the Princess, who was her age. She knew it might come across as if she was trying to become the new realm delight, but Nymeria knew she couldn’t become anything close to it. She was half Dornish and half Targaryen. She did not belong to this world or the other and never wished for it. But she wanted to have a friend; she was so lonesome in her world. She was kept away from others; because of the stares and looks. No one figured Nymeria would have anything close to a Targaryen look, and when she was born, her hair was as bright as the summer’s rays. She stood out just like her mother, and she knew she would be outcasted entirely because of her mixed bloodline. Dorne does not like the Targaryen as a whole- they’ve been at war and do not care to see one another, and she is a stark reminder of the war. Maybe…now she will find some companionship, and perhaps she will finally be welcomed. She knew Otto did not accept her, and Alicent, by extension, didn’t either. Darvos didn’t even dare to hide his distaste for the Hightower. It was becoming unsettling and unnerving to be there as Visery acted blind to the whole thing.

“Ah, Princess Rhaenyra-“ Alicent said, getting up, distracting everyone in the room; Nymeria turned in her chair to see the Princess walking windswept and beautiful. She gave the group a relatively small revered smile; she was guarded, cautious, and moving in slow strides. She was striking and dangerous; Nymeria's heart fluttered as she watched the princess with wide eyes. Darvos was up first, and Nymeria followed suit as Otto got up. Darvos glanced over to Nymeria, watching her enthrall with the princess, and he smirked, looking back over to the realm's delight. He quickly got up, meeting the princess, grabbed her hand, and brought it to his lips.

“Princess, your reputation truly does you justice; you are as beautiful as the golden day sun.” He smiled over at her as she now smiled back, but her eyes were determining if he was a lying man or if he was spilling out truths. These things usually are men being disgusting, but Darvos was being honest with a bit of arse kissing.

“A lovely thing to say from a man I barely know.”

“And I am utterly stunned by your beauty.” He said with a smile. “I am Lord Darvos Dayne, we come from Dorne.”

“Dorne? Came to kings landing?” She asked with an amused smile, now looking over Nymeria with piqued interest. “And you are?”

“I am Nymeria from the house of Dayne, I am your aunt,” Nymeria said as she stood up to let the princess look over her.

“So it seems.” She said, now looking over the girl from Dorne. “Do you claim the Targarygen name?”She was asking from the house, she was a protector, and she wanted to see what the Dornish girl would say or act. The golden skin girl looked at the princess with a smile as she knew the game they were playing.

“I am; I am Nymeria Targaryen my mother is Saera Targaryen. I am not a dragon rider, but I can and will speak Vaylerian.”

“Well, not all Targaryens ride a dragon.” She smiled over to Nymeria as the girl smiled back. “And we can always find you one.” She teased as Darvos let out a nervous laugh.

“I would like that.” Nymeria looked at the Princess with wonderment but slight attraction.

Rhaenyra was beautiful, a true Targaryen with long blonde hair, taller than most women, and stunning eyes, and she looked at you as if she was trying to figure you out. The look, the eyes, piqued Nymeria as she stared back with her own look. Nymeria was always known in Dorne as having flirty eyes; one look at you and most people would get flushed. When she was around people, most men did want her and tried for her hand, and for them to be between her legs, but she always dismissed them, pulled them long enough for them to desperately want her and she would always find a way to distract herself out of it. Nymeria hasn’t lost her maiden as much as Otto wants to make it seem. She was very to herself, teaching her history and being groomed by her family to be a Targaryen even her father would bound her time learning many things about Dorne. She was well-versed in politics, and she knew a lot of history on both sides. She also knew the North very well; her father always cried about her not being a man because in the Westro she would go farther as a man than when she was born. So now, with her as the heir of the kingdom, she wondered why her father stressed about men and how they would treat her.

“You’re from Dorne; what’s it like?” Rhaenyra asked, now sitting next to her, ignoring Otto, Alicent, and even Nymeria’s brother; she lifted her cup to her lips but kept her eyes on the golden skin Targaryen.

“Different than here, warmer, more welcoming, and the food is different more spices.”

“Really? She asked with a smile. “I wonder what it is like to eat there? And how much warmer?”

“Very. I’m quite cold here.” She said over to the Princess as her skin was covered in goosebumps, the Rhaenyra looked down at her arms, pursing her lips over at the girl. And a bright idea came to her.

“Want to go to my room? I have some firewood, and we can keep warm. Possibly drink spice wine, and you can tell me everything about Dorne.”

Nymeria didn’t know what Rhaenyra saw in her, maybe a friend, a companion, possibly even a better family female figure in her life, but she was happy about it. She dreamt of the day of she and Nyra were close; she wouldn’t figure they would be friends so quickly but she could see the loneliness in the young Princess's eyes, and Nymeria knew her eyes reflected the same.

“I would love that,” Nymeria said as Rhaenyra got up quickly, grabbing the girl's hands and intertwining their fingers together, causing Nymeria to smile and feel her chest burn up. She looked over the group, and Alicent had looked hurt, and dismayed over their hands as her eyes were locked on it. Visery smiled brightly over to them, as did Darvos almost a little smirk to his lips, before covering it up in a cup. Otto looked like he was murderous but he hid it rather quickly as if it was a fleeting emotion once he noticed both girls looking at him.

“Good night father.” Rhaenyra said with a small smile spinning on her heel pulling the girl with her.

“Oh, good night!” Nymeria said quickly as she was pulled out of the room with all the eyes on them.

She wasn’t sure if she was happy or nervous over the poor manners but she was with the Princess…nothing could go wrong….or she believed.

Part 3

[nxdxxh3]

Hello.

I have not posted or reblog or whatever these things are called nowadays. Anyways, I bet no one reads this cus i just wanna give a life update to myself lmao.

I stopped visiting tumblr probably more than 5 years ago?? So around 2018 probably. Oh wow. Okay imma make a timeline then.

2018: I was with my ex boyfriend. Lets just call him A. Things started great then went downhill and i ignored all the red flags yadda yadda yadda typical young girl thats so positive im gonna end up with this guy. Well no. If i could turn back time, i would slap myself in the face and tell her to run. I actually cant remember much back then as im trying to forget everything 2020 and below. But what i did remember is how manipulative he is and a liar. But, i was in "love". I started my diploma this year and graduated already in 2019. We'll get to that year in a second. Anyways, he practically talked me into being with him rather than this really great dude i was dating before him and mind you he had a gf. In my defense, i didnt know as i said earlier, hes manipulative and a liar. The dude before him is from singapore and i was young and thought LDR wont work on me(boy i was wrong.) I needed the physical attention cus well, i was young.. But im glad i did met him physically cus we planned to meet in Johor and it was sweet. okay that got sidetracked but 2018 is like the 2nd year i was with A. During this year, it really went downhill. I started to fall into deep depression and my mental health was bad bad. Thats when i felt i wanted to unalive myself and hurt myself. and i did. the latter i mean. anyways he started working somewhere and i actually was sus about this bitch working there as well. Lets call her S for slut.

2019: Fast forward to 2019. This is the year i got a cyst on my left ovary. Due to reasons i rather not say but i will answer if by any chance someone read this and are curious so go ahead inbox me i guess. But definitely A was contributing to it. Whether directly or indirectly. So yeah, during that time it was bad. I lost my left ovary and i only have 1 now. How i found out you ask? (no one asked but) I had really unbearable pain on my abdominal area. The uterus area like non stop. I thought its the period cramps but i wasnt on my period that time at all. I found out a bit late so the cyst grew until 12cm and i saw it after the removal. Its the size of a baby's head! im not even exaggerating. Its really big. Anyways after the surgery, my family has been there for me. They're really the main reason why im still alive and well mentally and physically. That was in July. and i cant remember anything before that. so lets move on. Towards the end of the year, i found out that A was cheating on me. Not 1, but with 2 different girls. 1 is S and 1 is F. These random ass letters will get me confused but nvm. F is the ex gf. and the funny thing is, F was friends, best friends with S. LMAO. When i found out, the first thing i did was exposing him on my instagram sksk. I cant do anything and im not gonna stay quiet about it. so i just did that. and a lot of people came forward exposing more about him and S. So hes really active with S. Hes been going out, fucking her and F behind my back. and they both dont know about each other's situation btw until F saw my insta story and contacted me to meet up. and we did and i told her everything. all this time A was badmouthing me to his side pieces saying how much of a psycho i am, how i always beg him to stay (fuck no ew i always ask for break ups but he always have a way for words and actions). Like i said, hes manipulative and a liar. the fact he had the audacity to ask me to not stay mad for long as if im still gonna be part of this shitty hole. fuck no. i did confront S at that time and bro i really felt like i wanted to slap her face and drag her across the road but hey hes not that fucking worth it for me to do that. I complete left the whole fiasco and stayed friends with F lmao. shes cool. but sometimes dumb bcs she still stayed with him after everything. although that time A already went public with S he can still manipulated F somehow. A ended up marrying S tho. and side note, i gave A a fossil watch and it was fucking expensive. and he told F he bought it himself lmao. fucker. oh and he often take advantage on me asking me to pay for shit. he did pay sometimes but restaurants that are expensive, i paid. he paid for mamak, hawker stalls and what not lmao. So that ended. And i ended up celebrating new years alone and i fucking glad i did.

2020 -2021 July: So uuh covid came. And i met this dude on May 2020. How? me and my discord friends that i met during covid were planning to meet up and hes one of them who tags along. He just broke up with his ex gf 2-3 days ago that time. How he approached me, he kissed me creepily and suddenly while me and him was alone in a house i rented before covid during my degree. Now that i think back, it was creepy. He said "what if i attacked you right now". LIKE WTF? WHO SAYS THAT. Then he suddenly kissed me. i did not know how to de-escalated the situation. so i just let it slide. we just met for 2 hours btw. and he keeps on asking for a kiss afterwards too. on the way back from the outing, i have to send him back and he did not have a license btw. All the way back, he keeps on asking wanting to kiss me again (of course i said no) and hold my hand (this one i was ok with it although i was so uncomfortable). It was so creepy dude. I dont know if those things counts as assault or not cus i kinda just went along with it but i was uncomfy. Anyways, hes unhygienic, kinda narcissistic also have anger issues. Everytime we played games together, i cant enjoy shit bcs he keeps on tilting and screaming at randoms. (sometimes he tilts on me) I also have to pick him up and send him back after all of our dates. it was a mess. I learned the hard way after agreeing to date him. but during my relationship with him, im the fucked up one. i owned up to my mistakes and im not gonna leave this part out from this timeline. i cheated on him with some random dude. and i wont justify my actions. cheating is still cheating. he did gave me a second chance and i swear to god i did try my best to be better. i don't blame him for acting more suspicious of me and blaming me for everything. but it gets worse and i got tired. i honestly thought i should've just left instead of asking for a second chance. i realized the reason why i asked for a second chance is just to make up for it. bcs i felt bad. and that's not something i should've done. i should've just left and let him healed. trust me that came up a lot of times but seems like he doesn't want us to end either. so the unhappy and most depressing phase of our relationship got dragged until august 2021.

2021 August: I finally had the courage to end things with him for good. Bcs we both tried to move on from the incident but hes not doing well on his end. He still accused me of things that i didn't do. Question everything i did and yes i got tired. again i don't blame him but Its getting unhealthy and toxic for both of us. He keeps on saying he trusts me and i have become better but still act like we're back to square one. I called quits and he doesn't want to in the beginning. But then i had to lie telling him i have another person in my life. and that was his last straw. He screamed and yelled at me and just ended there like that. I felt bad but i cant stay again bcs i felt bad. Its not right.

2021 September - Present: These timelines are getting me confused ngl cus i really cant remember the exact time. anyways before i broke up with my previous bf, i was in another different circle of friends. I spent most of my time there while trying to escape him. i thought maybe if i distant myself its a lot more easier for me to leave and him to forget me. but yea during that time we actually fought a lot bcs of that. so after the break up i spent all of my time there. and i met this random singaporean dude. we spent all night talking and exchanging songs that we like and watching sitcoms. i remember our first show was The Good Place. Our discord server name is The Good Place where we hang a lot. (ldr things) and yes he knows about my past from A to Z. Basically everything i have wrote so far. We played valorant a lot tgt. I know i know, very short amount of time meeting someone new. but bro he hits different. its definitely the rush, the chasing, the butterflies. i haven't felt like that for a while and well, its bcs of my own fault too. i admit everything happens so fast like very fast. so we start really getting to know each other after dating which is weird and can lead to an easy break up especially we're doing long distance. but im not losing this dude. so i said, fuck it. he did say that he scared long distance would be hard but hes willing to try. i did it before and i want to be better. especially for a guy like him. 2 years has passed and today, 13th April 2023, we're still together and getting engage hopefully end of this year. Life has been great since i met him. Everything is different. he accepts me for who i am, we finish each other's dark humors/jokes. We facetime everyday and never get tired of seeing each other. He met my family and i met his. Although we ldr, we make it work. There's ups and down of course and mostly bcs of me lmao cus i self sabotage a lot liddat. but im working on it. and also, i suck at communicating. mostly bcs i usually keep things to myself during my past relationships. but that's what im working on right now and i hope im doing well. besides that, i am finally content and happy. Not a day goes by i never thought of him. I truly love him and i cant wait for what the future holds for us.

Thanks for reading guys. (im probably talking alone rn)

[sakebytheriver]

Banging my head against the wall, flinging things out of the window, and screaming into the void and hoping it yells back at me to shut up because I am so unbelievably frustrated! Sorry I have to vent-is it okay if I vent here? About a month ago, my friend and I were talking about age gaps in relationships and she was like “well, me and ‘s’ had a big age gap and it was wrong and no one stopped/ protected me.”

So I’m like ????? Girl what? “S was only a few years older than us and you were like 19/20 when you started dating. That’s not a huge gap.“

And she’s like “no he was almost five years older than me.”

So I looked at her and was like…girl no he was not. But also fine who am I to argue about his age. Maybe he was. I let it go because she was getting teary eyed about it, and I wasn’t going to push it because I remembered she told me he was horrible to her anyway and I didn’t want to dredge that up again.

But I’m FURIOUS because now she sends me a screenshot of a recent convo with ‘s’ and I’m like??????? Girl wtf? “When did you start talking to him?” And she’s like “a few months ago.”

And I’m just!!!!! “Why are you talking to him? You said he was horrible, you insinuated multiple horrible things that happened with him and that your age gap was a problem. So???”

And she’s just like “idk”

I am. I am. OUTDONE. Maybe I shouldn’t care but like I dealt with the drama behind him and put up with her and him and their shit and I’m just over it.

Oh geez that's definitely a lot 😭😭😭

Your friend kinda sounds like someone who wants romantic attention and doesn't really care who gives it to her, even if they're horrible to her, there's a lot of people like that who have the insecurity that no one will want them and when someone does they think it's a miracle and so they'll do anything they can to keep the other person's attention even when the attention is harmful

Of course, she could also just be a drama sponge so like what do I know 😭

If you're looking for advice here I'd say just tell her to block him or stop talking to him and make it very clear that you are being the person warning her away from this guy this time around and then just let her do what she's gonna do, if she doesn't listen to you that's on her and what happens next is not on you

It's wicked frustrating to have to just say your piece and then take a step back, but that's kinda what you gotta do here 😬😭

You could also tell her that you dealt with the drama last time and if she goes ahead and ignores every red flag and gets back with him that you're not interested in dealing with drama this time around and that anytime she comes to you with it your response will always be to dump him 😂😂 but idk if that'll go over well with a girl like that 😭

In the end, whatever she does isn't on you, and if she's repeatedly falling into this kind of behavior and it's having a negative impact on your life then you might have to make the choice to step away from that friendship, but that's definitely the nuclear option

I hope youre not stressing yourself too much over this and that venting to me helped a little 😂 💕 come back anytime you need 😁

[dinasilvertongue]

Deep down, my dear, you're a very superficial character (while also oh-so-soulful—he's kind of a paradox)... Now, for the light side, B, as you now call yourself, I have to point out that when you say that about your real-life girlfriend (& I wish you both all the happiness btw) that you don't want to introduce her to your kids until you know you two have "longevity," it sounds perfectly reasonable & normal & really very sane;—but when I go ahead & translate it into our little situation here, it begins to sound more like, "I'm not asking you out until you sign some sort of promissory note that you'll go out w/me on an x number of dates"... That's not love—that's business; & btw, in the real world, people don't date that way: when two people are single & don't even know each other, they go out first & talk "longevity" later—& to do it or to talk about it in the opposite way is considered *insane* (I mean, you must know from sitcoms)...

But that's just the funny stuff (albeit annoying & a major turnoff)... What concerns me much more is actually that there's a dark side to this connection that's kind of a major red flag when it comes to you... I mean, don't you think it's a *big* coincidence that I've had this incredibly stressful three months during the exact same three months that you have been back in my realm?... I've got this situation right here on my doorstep that has brought both myself & my cat considerable stress of being under an aggressive personal attack/ambush—and it all has to do w/landlords & neighbors, which are also terms we've applied to you recently?... It's just a bit too glaring for me to ignore it, you know, given how I normally read my life... (And while this was definitely a shadow-side-of-emperor situation, it wasn't even about overly strict & intransigent enforcement of existing rules—oh no, this was more about plain *abuse* involving falsification of evidence & fabrication of circumstances in order to inflict emotional duress & nothing else...) Kinda makes me glad you don't have the guts to approach me anyway—cuz I think that's all for the best...

[internetgremlin-writes]

Hello darling! Can I request prompt 16 with 41 and /or 94 please and Max Verstappen or Charles Leclerc? Thank you!

16 - "You fainted...straight into my arms. You know, if you want my attention you don't have to go to such extremes,"

41 - "You need some sleep,"

94 - "You need a place to stay for the night?"

the wheel has spoken and the wheel wants chuck lecluck.

i started my pre-rotation reading and im so scared please enjoy me panic writing to distract myself

You hadn't been feeling right all day, but this was Monaco, there was no way in hell you'd be missing even a second of the weekend. Not only that, but the tickets had cost you an absolute bomb.

Your brother worked in the paddock, but that had barely been an advantage. Okay, that was a lie, he'd managed to secure you and your best friend paddock passes and early access to tickets, but you were still in General Admission for the rest of the weekend. Not that you minded, you'd grown up in a household of F1 fans and it had always been your dream to see Monaco live, even if it wasn't on a private charter yacht.

So you were going to do Monaco, by hook or by crook. The grid walk had been okay, a slight unease settling over you but nothing too bad. There was a headache nagging at the back of your mind and you were a little too aware of your stomach but you put it down to the fact it was an incredibly loud place to be, and you and your friend wandering the grid alongside royals, celebrities and the drivers themselves was a lot to take in.

You were grateful you'd made your way back up to the stands where you had seats by the time it started to rain, and that your stand was covered. You'd used your brother's staff discount to buy a big Ferrari coat earlier and you were glad you did because when the rain really started, you could feel the temperature visibly drop.

The race was... interesting. After so many delays, and red flags they finally decided to cut it short and run on a timer instead of the full number of laps. To be honest, you were glad they did because you'd lost all feeling in your legs, the headache now felt like someone was dragging knives across your nerves and you most definitely had a stomach cramp. You took some painkillers with the fast emptying water bottle you'd brought and ignored the concerned look your best friend was giving you because you needed to go and see your brother.

You weren't sure if he was celebrating or miserable. He worked for Ferrari and whilst they'd got a podium out of Carlos Sainz, their pole position driver who was tipped for the win had slipped down to P4 in a strategy error. Your head felt like it was swimming when you stood up, and you had to stop three times on your walk to the paddock because you kept flushing between boiling hot and freezing cold, and your stomach was positively churning.

"Are you sure you're okay? You look pale," your friend pointed out when you stopped once more, your mouth watering signalling that you were dangerously close to being sick. You couldn't answer her straight away, instead focusing on steadying your breathing and taking several cautious sips of water.

"Yeah, I'm fine," you lied "Probably just one too many cocktails last night. I need to find Tom anyway," you set off walking ahead of her, but your slow pace meant she quickly caught up as the two of you virtually trudged into the paddock. Tom, your brother, was a difficult man to find. You lapped the paddock three times before you finally bumped into him talking quickly with two other men in red shirts.

"Hey squirt, was wondering when I'd see you," he wrapped an arm around you and squeezed playfully but it felt like your whole body lurched. You closed your eyes to steady yourself as you hitched a fake smile onto your face and he introduced you to some of his co-workers. Tom showed the pair of you around the paddock before you reached the centre of activity where most of the drivers were being interviewed.

"-So I'm sure I can introduce you to at least a few anyway. Maybe not Carlos today-" you weren't really listening because your ears were ringing and there was a sense of dread stealing over you as you realised that you really were about to throw up. Trying to push the feeling down once more you wiped the beads of sweat that were gathering on your brow away.

"Sounds great, do you mind if I go to hospitality first? I need a drink," Tom must have realised something was wrong because he handed you his pass to get into Ferrari's sector without argument, and told you he'd text you where he was when you were done. You nodded, now keeping your mouth tightly shut and headed away from them.

Your vision was swimming. Your legs weren't responding to you; it felt like you were trying to walk after playing one of those games where you were blindfolded and span around in multiple circles. You managed to locate the building, for once grateful that everything to do with Ferrari was bright red.

The floor lurched in front of you as you were trying to find your way to the catering zone and you stumbled. You suddenly felt like you were floating, a sense of bliss washing over you as the outside world started to shrink away. You knew what was coming next, but there was nothing you could do to stop it now.

"Hey- hey are you okay?" The voice was the last thing you registered before you blacked out.

When you came to you had no idea where you were. You felt like you were waking up from an impromptu nap, the same feeling of total confusion consuming you. Your mouth was dry and the heavy feeling of your body was a telltale sign that you'd fainted. This wasn't uncommon for you, so fortunately you knew how to handle yourself. You stayed still for a moment, slowly registering your body and how it was responding. You realised that you were laid in the recovery position, which meant you weren't alone.

"Are you awake?" Someone's hand was resting on your shoulder, so you groaned lightly in response because using words was a step too far. You pulled yourself up into a sitting position, the person immediately jumping to your aid and handing you a glass of water which you sipped. "Can I take you somewhere quieter?" you were still out of it so just nodded as your new carer very carefully picked you up into a standing position, slinging one arm around your shoulder and the other around your waist. You were conscious enough to move your feet, but you had no idea where you were going.

You were deposited gently onto a sofa, somewhere. You figured you hadn't left the Ferrari zone yet. It took a few more steadying breaths for your vision to completely clear and your brain to start registering anything properly. When you did you almost jumped back a little because a pair of bright blue eyes were blinking at you, alarmingly close to your face. They pulled back a little and your stomach dropped through the floor because attached to the prettiest green eyes you'd ever seen was a face you knew. Charles Leclerc, as in Ferrari driving race-winning Charles Leclerc was staring at you. His concerned look melted into a cheeky little grin.

"Talk about throwing yourself at me," he winked at you.

"What?" he was clearly trying not to look too pleased about the situation. You realised then you were in a small room, the sofa, a tiny wardrobe and what looked like a massage table were the only furniture present. He was crouched on the floor in front of you.

"You fainted," well, you'd guessed that much. "Straight into my arms. You know, if you want my attention you don't have to go to such extremes. I promise I'm a nice guy, I always stop for fans,"

No. No this couldn't be happening. You had not just embarrassed yourself like that in front of one of the biggest names in F1 this year. Especially not after the day he was having. You dropped your head into your hands because you couldn't bear to look at him and you could feel your face flushing as red as your stupid coat.

"God, I'm so sorry. My brother works here, I was just trying to get some water," he was quick to stop you.

"It's okay. I was hiding here too," you looked at him then, his whole body looked defeated and he was looking wistfully over your shoulder. You knew he was thinking about the podium he should have been on with his teammate.

"I'm sorry-"

"I don't wanna talk about it. Who is your brother?" He changed the topic quickly and you knew better than to push. As professional as they were, F1 drivers were sore losers.

"Er, Tom Y/L/N," Charles nodded.

"He is a good guy. I will text him," you couldn't quite believe Charles had your brother's number. He often didn't talk about work due to the high levels of secrecy around the cars, but he could have mentioned he was chummy with the stars themselves. Your own phone buzzed in your pocket a minute later.

Tommo: Know where you are. Glad you're safe. Will get you when I can.

BFF: OMG just saw the text. You bitch, I'm so jealous!

BFF: I'll keep Tom busy ;)

You decided it would be safest to put your phone away before your best friend sent something worse and Charles saw.

"I was going to go home. Do you want me to take you back to your hotel?" You thought the offer was sweet, but you couldn't waste any more of his time.

"Oh, no it's okay. We checked out this morning, I'm flying home tonight,"

"Good. I only have my bike," you couldn't help but giggle at that because only Ferrari's golden boy would turn up to a race on a bicycle. He laughed too, realising how stupid his offer was. "But you can't fly home tonight. You might be hurt. And you need to sleep,"

"Honestly I'm fine,"

"No, please, get another night at the hotel," your stomach twisted because your budget was completely stretched and there was no way you could afford another night and a second flight home.

"It's fully booked..."

"You need a place to stay for the night? My place is close,"

"No, you can't-"

Charles stopped you, his grabbing your hands and staring at you with an almost pleading look in his eyes.

"Please, I insist. I'll pay for your next flight,"

"You don't have to take responsibility for me," you argued, already embarrassed enough, but the way he was looking at you was quickly eroding your argument.

"It's not like that. I just wanna make sure you're okay. I have a spare room, you can watch a movie, if you like? I'm a bad chef but I'll buy takeout,"

The way he was looking at you was deadly. Like you were the only thing he wanted right then. What was the harm? Your brother clearly knew him, it wasn't like he was a complete stranger taking you home.

"Okay,"

[tommyspeakycap]

traffic lights

john stones x reader

i can't help but think that maybe you fell out of love me

based off this song

“John!” You yelp, covering your mouth with your hand as he chuckles loudly, flicking his eyes from you to the road again after he swerved playfully on the empty street. His laughter bounces through the warm car as his hand settles down onto your thigh, moving in slow circles subconsciously. His hand rarely ever leaves your thigh when he's driving, only ever to change gear in the expensive car.

"You're an accident waiting to happen." You tease with a soft laugh, shaking your head. John chuckles in response, squeezing your knee. He has the radio down to the quiet hum of background noise so that he can hear every word that you say and relish every release of your beautiful laughter. The summer wind blows through your hair gently as you rest your head on the side of the door, scanning the passing movements out of the open window and occasionally drifting your eyes over to look at John who was usually looking at you instead of the empty road ahead.

For every traffic light that appears in the distance, you cross your fingers by your side and hope it shifts to red so he gets to turn to you fully. He always does without fail, his eyes dancing over your face as they shine in admiration and you look back at him as adoringly in love as he looks at you.

John doesn't even need to say he loves you in those moments. Neither of you do, it's so known just by the way you look at each other and exist in each other’s presence. But you say it nonetheless. It's cemented into the existence by your soft words spoken on the quiet nights driving in the glow of street lights and the occasional passing headlights.

Being in the car with him, always with a hand on you, kissing you at every red light and telling you he loves you under a street light glow truly is one of your favourite things in the world. It marks such a small part of your relationship, but predisposes the rest of it. Looking into that car and seeing the love you hold together gives the most accurate representation of the love between you and John. He looks at you like you hung the moon. You tell each other how you love each other, you laugh together, sing together and he wants to be as close to you as he possibly can just like he always has. He doesn’t want his hand on the gear stick, he likes it holding onto your leg with your hand resting on top of it. Going for those drives was your favourite thing in the world. It calmed you both, relaxed all those nerves that come with the busy life you lead together and gives a space and time for just you two.

You’d talk, on and on about anything and everything big and small. Funny work stories or reasons for your stresses, confiding in each other or simply just existing together so you don’t have to face the world alone. It was the hallmark of your relationship.

The biggest red flag should’ve come when John started turning the radio up a little louder when you got in the car. He didn’t want you to talk.

He was ‘concentrating’.

The car once filled with laughter and warmth had suddenly gone so, so cold. You sit there chewing on the inside of your lip, silently begging any God that there is for a red light stop so he can turn to you like he used to, look at you with those dazzling eyes lovingly finding your face so you could tell him you loved him or he could say those all important words to you.

Red lights brought silence somehow heavier than the silence that preceded it.

Suddenly, years of praying for reds and crossing your fingers with budding excitement that he would lean over the centre console for a kiss and you’d maybe miss the green has been flipped on its head. Now your heart speeds up when you see traffic lights ahead as every single ounce of your being going in to praying that it’ll be green so he doesn’t have to stop. If he doesn’t stop, he couldn’t have kissed you. You can justify him ignoring your existence with a green, but with ambers and reds you only stand to get your heart broken.

And you do. Over and over and over again.

Falling in love can be hard, but you never thought it so. Making a relationship strong takes work, and is hard, that you agree on. But nothing that you have ever done in all of your life has been as hard as watching the man you thought you’d be spending the rest of your life with fall out of love with you.

Because it wasn’t all at once. He didn’t cheat on you and a sick, very twisted part of you wishes that he had because at least then there would be a reason to leave him. Then you could walk away, you could scream and shout, maybe make him feel something. Instead, you got slow and painful. The love seeps out of every gesture just like it had when he stopped resting his hand on your knee in the car. He stops holding you at night, doesn’t talk over your favourite movies anymore ‘just because things pop into his head’ and most painfully of all, he doesn’t tell you he loves you under the red glow of stop light in the middle of the night.

John seems to not want to leave so as to spare your feelings, but that boat has far from sailed. The waiting is worse, wondering when or if ever he’ll actually tell you what has happened here. Suppose you’re at fault too in enticing your own agony. You could leave, but you’re still in love with him. Every day you still hope something might happen that’ll give you your John back and each day you wake up and realise you’re getting further and further from that every happening. But you don’t know how to call off a relationship where you still love him with everything you have. He fell out of love, he’s the one breaking your heart every day as he looks at you with nothing, no emotion and certainly no love in his eyes. He’ll probably grow to resent you, if he doesn’t already as he forces himself to stay. For whatever reason, you truly don’t know. No one leaves.

Instead, you keep getting in his car. You buckle up nervously and hang in for the ride. It’s a funny metaphor generally for your relationship. You, putting yourself in the passenger side and giving him full control to break you as he pleases each and every day. Where you used to laugh and tease his stupid driving, the car is filled with the radio. You get in with shaking hands, knowing that each and every time you get in there with him could be the last time. It’s torturous.

He keeps his hands firm on the wheel, eyes burning into the road ahead and again, you hold on despite his safe driving. You’re holding onto him and he’s completely let go of you, but you don’t know how to live without him. You’ve been together so long you aren’t sure how you exist without John in your life. How can you sleep without him next to you? How can you exist without half of your heart? He used to drive like an idiot just so he could hear your laugh.

It’s for that reason that his safe driving has you scared for your life.

[capt-spooki3]

...And Sunrises Were Worse

A sequel to Sunsets Never Felt The Same...

Pairing: Revivebur and Reader

Warnings: blood mentions, fighting, angsty feelings, kissing, manipulativebur

Y/n was finally recovering after the unfortunate demise of their lover just to find, he is back and better than ever...

3.6k words

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Y/n watched him from afar, arms open wide as he took in the rays from the rising sun.

“This is my sunrise..”

Hearing the words from him sent chills through their whole body. Watching him stand there, alive and grinning like a mad man, made them sick. Whether it was from shock, disbelief, or anger they weren’t sure yet.

It had been nine whole years that he had been gone and the only piece of him left was his ghost. Ghostbur was a comforting presence, but it just took so much for them not to try and question Ghostbur on why he left them. Not only did his ghost not remember them, but they learned quickly that he had no memory of his past mistakes.

They never expected his lonely soul to be so innocent and sweet, especially after seeing face to face how far he had fallen once he lost his darling country. That last glimpse of him they got, shook them to their core and took years to recover from. Though honestly, it never fully left them. They were ready to move on and look for love in someone that wasn’t six feet under. But there stood their former lover, watching as Tommy, Tubbo, and Ranboo walked away from him with Friend following close behind. He was smiling in a manic way, looking the exact same way he did when he kissed them and ran off to face his demise but this time there was something different that they just couldn’t place their finger on. Maybe it was that this time, he had a will and a want to be alive.

Y/n shook their head, letting a shiver run down their spine as they turned and started to walk away, not wanting to look at him anymore and hoping that they would just be able to forget he had come back to life.

“My dearest sunflower... “ They stopped in their tracks as they heard the voice say softly, just loud enough for his words to reach them. They held their breath, hoping to hear him speak again or not at all, while a cold sweat went down their back. Everything stood quiet like the world was holding its breath along with Y/n.

“Don’t ignore me now, love. Please, turn and look at me. I want to see your face again, it’s been too long.”

“What the hell are you doing here- yOU WERE GONE WILBUR! YOU WERE GONE! YOU WERE SUPPOSED TO STAY GONE!” They balled up their fists and squeezed their eyes tight to try and not let the tears slip through. Emotions that have been kept under wraps for years were finally coming forth to plague their mind. All from hearing his sugar-coated voice again, but they knew all that laid under the tooth-rotting exterior anymore was pure venom.

“Y/n… please don’t be upset. I’m back. I’m here, I can make things better than ever.” His voice was growing closer and was only unraveling them farther.

“NO! Wilbur stop- stop moving. Don’t come closer.” They pleaded, voice growing frail as tears were trying harder to run free. “Please…”

“Listen to me at least, darling.”

“No. I won’t.

“Y/n.” He sounded like he was warning them to comply. A big red waving flag telling them that even in death, he hasn’t changed.

“I’m leaving, and once I’m gone. So are you.” They started walking down the small mound of rubble they were watching him from as soon as they finished their sentence and picking up the pace as soon as their feet hit the glass that kept them from falling into the crater of L’manburg.

“Y/N!!” Wilbur called out to them desperately. “H-Hold on, just wait!” But they didn’t stop, they didn’t even look back and just kept their eyes on the swirling vines that tainted the space below them.

Harsh footsteps rang out on the glass, they sounded like boots as they clicked nicely. Suddenly they were pulled back when a hand grabbed onto their arm to stop them, Wilbur took small gasps as he caught his slightly extended breaths. Y/n looked back at him and finally looked him in the eyes again after nine years. His mouth hung open just a little as he steadied his breathing. Dirt was smudged on one cheek while a bit of blood was dried on the other and a long past dried bloody nose. He looked tired too, very apparent bags were under his eyes now though his glasses sat perfect and untouched on his nose. The red in his eyes was so easy to see and up close made it even more unsettling especially as he looked at them so fondly and softly like he never stopped loving them even in death.

“Don’t leave me, please.” He whispered, pulling them just a bit closer, looking like a puppy pleading for their owner not to go to work.

“Wilbur. It has been nine years. Nine years you’ve been gone, nine years tha-”

“Thirteen years!” He leaned forward just lightly as he emphasized the number. Y/n stopped and just looked at him, confused by him one upping them.

“What?”

“I have been in limbo for thirteen years Y/n. An empty train station. No exit. No one else there to help. I screamed and clawed at the walls. I was stuck there for so, so long. But I never forgot you. I missed you so much.” Wilbur finally let their arm go and let his arm fall back to his side, looking defeated. “I can’t tell you how many times I relived memories of you just to make me feel something again. Like… remember our sunset?” He looked down through the glass floor, smiling sweetly as he was obviously thinking back on the time. But Y/n simply looked at him in disbelief and almost disgust that he was thinking of them.

“Do you even realize how much it hurts? The things you told me before you went and got yourself killed? I held onto that for so many years, Wilbur.” He fixed his gaze back on them, his smile having been lost as soon as they started talking. “I was so ready to be healed from you and pursue love. Just… be happy. I haven’t forgotten you, but that’s because you hurt me so.. so bad.”

They let out a shuddering breath and took a few steps back from him to which he started to reach for them but stopped himself, lowering his hands to his sides and dropping his shoulders.

“I’m leaving. And I need you to let me leave and forget I was ever here.” They demanded once and for all before turning sharply and walking away from him.

“CAN YOU… can you stay. For just… for just a bit. Till sunset. Let me stay with you.” Y/n slowed to a stop when hearing his sad request. “Sunset can be the limit and you can bring me back here and I won’t follow you. Please just… Can you give me this?”

They sighed deeply, their addiction to his voice returning much faster than they hoped it would. They started to move again but not before calling back to him.

“Well come on then. I told myself I’d sort the books at the library today.” Y/n knew they didn’t need to wait for him because a few paces in and he had caught up to their side, hands in his pocket as he took smaller strides by their side.

“You finally built the library you always talked about?” Wilbur asked fondly, they could feel the constant glances he was throwing their way, and frankly, it took a lot of effort not to look back at him.

“Actually Foolish did it for me, I commissioned him. It looks really good too, almost everyone frequents it. I’ve even gotten Techno and Phil to drop by a good number of times.” They found their way onto the Prime Path as it made the walk to the library the easiest amongst all the rugged land.

“Yeah? I bet that Ranboo guy is there a lot, he looks like a bookworm.”

“He stops by quite a bit, yeah... Ghostbur was always there though.” They said as their voice grew softer. “Unless he was traveling around or visiting others to spread his blue, he was sitting there with Friend and reading.”

Wilbur didn’t try to make any comment after that and Y/n had to give him that. At least he still knows when it was best to shut up and bear the silence.

The rest of their walk remained rather quiet other than little comments here and there and Wilbur requested a quick walk by the museum once he saw it. Even though they could have cared less about what he wanted, Y/n agreed to walk by it since it wouldn’t set them off their path too much. They couldn’t help but admire him as he was now, they always thought Ghostbur was the actual soul AND mind of Wilbur with just amnesia. After being around him for so long, they got the urge to explain events to him whenever he would mention them, just to be reminded that he was there and remembered it all.

-

“Oh, so this must be the library ey?” Wilbur said excitedly as he stared at the two-story building and nodded in approval. “Gotta tell that Foolish guy he did a good job.”

Y/n laughed a little and went in with Wilbur close behind and quietly observing the interior.

“Go ahead and do whatever you want, I’ll be… kinda everywhere do just call if you need anything okay?” They glanced back to him to see his eyes already on them, smiling softly before he nodded.

“I can help too if you need it.”

“Uh- no. No, I’ll be fine, thank you.” They said quickly before rushing to start upstairs and get some distance between him, still not all that comfortable being so close to a man that was dead mere hours ago. They knelt down to a bookshelf and went on autopilot while they sorted through and put books in the right order.

It was so hard for their mind to fully process that he was revived. They overheard Tommy when he met up with Tubbo and Ranboo so they heard the whole story and followed behind secretly. They watched from afar when they found Wilbur but sadly didn’t hear most of what he had to say out of pure shock that he was standing right there without a sword through his chest. As much as they wanted to completely forget about his existence, They doubted they would be able to get rid of him now. All they could hope is that he would keep his distance and not be kind enough to make them fall in love with him all over again.

Hours passed by in minutes for them and they were finished with the top floor of books and went downstairs to find Wilbur standing there with obviously freshly baked bread, contemplating walking up the stairs.

“Y/n! Sorry um… here.” He offered the small loaf to them, he didn’t have his gloves on anymore and his hands were cleaned. “You’ve been working hard, but you need to take care of yourself.”

They took the bread from him carefully, taking a piece and trying to find it surprisingly good. He must have gotten it from the bakery.

“Thank you, Wilbur…. You eat too.” They took their leave into the rows of bookshelves to distance themself and eat near one of the back windows.

Things weren’t looking good for them at this rate.

-

“Alright Wilbur, got all your things? I’ve got to walk you back then go home.”

Wilbur hopped up from the chair he was sitting in, pulling his gloves out of his pockets and slipping them both on before adjusting his coat.

“Yep, all ready. Lead the way.”

And lead they did, though this time they took the more remote path down to his shrine. They took the path that Phil and his group used when they were first trying to revive Wilbur by using Ghostbur. It was calmer and it let Wilbur see other parts of the nearby area that he didn’t before.

“You know… Y/n. Have you ever been down here at night?” Wilbur asked as they were nearing the shrine.

“Huh? Oh, no I haven’t. Not since… you know.” They cast a quick glance to their side at him. “It doesn’t bring back the best memories so I try to avoid it.”

“Right, right, that makes sense.” He went quiet, but it was obvious he wanted to add on and most likely ask them something.

“Why?”

“Well, I saw them earlier and thought they looked rather nice. Did you see the floating lanterns? There were just a few, but they stood out to me among all the destroyed land.” He took a breath and looked over at them until they met his eyes. “I wanted to ask you if you could stay and look at them with me.”

Y/n just looked at him, expressionless and not saying a word.

“Look, the sun is literally already setting. Just for a few minutes, please? We can uh- we can stand on the other side of the shrine and look at them. Okay?” He looked up at the sunset before it was hidden by the land. “Just before you leave.”

“Just before I leave.” They softly echoed him and got a rushed thank you as he picked his pace up now.

They finally reached the stone steps that led to the shrine and Wilbur happily took the lead, walking to the backside of the shrine to lean up against the lapis wall. Y/n fell back against it and sighed, closing their eyes and being thankful for a moment to rest. They opened their eyes and looked up at the lanterns floating nearby, glowing brightly against the land now that the sun was set. They let themself slip away while watching the calming float of the lanterns.

Feeling eyes on them, they looked over to Wilbur. He didn’t even try to look away, just looking at them with a distant gaze and hands resting in his pockets. He looked numb as he silently watched despite the soft rosy look of his cheeks. There was something there they could only describe as numb and lovesick. As odd as it sounds, it fits.

“Wilbur-”

“Shh just let me… you look too lovely right now.”

They felt the heat rising to their face as much as they hated to feel it with him. It felt too right to hear it from him again and their mind pushed them to beg him to say those words again.

“I… I need to go home.” Y/n whispered to him, not even sure if that’s what they wanted anymore.

“I know, but darling I’m selfish.” He spoke softly to match their tone. They looked away to let out their held breath and contemplate what they were supposed to do. With a deep and grounding breath, they looked back at him. As much as they were ready to tell him they were leaving him here alone, him giving obvious glances to their lips just stopped them from being able to go forward with it.

With a soft bite of his lip, he tore his gaze away and sighed as looked up at the star-speckled sky, resting his head back. They were frozen now, admiring him this time. They swore they wouldn’t fall again but look at them now, ready to throw caution to the wind.

And they did.

Y/n closed the distance between them willingly for the first time that day and grabbed onto the arm of his jacket to get his attention, just above the L’mamburg flag patch that was covered with old dirt and blood. He looked down at them with wide eyes, very obviously surprised to see them so close.

“Are you… okay?”

“I-... I don’t know.” They admitted, meaning it completely. Wanting any of him now felt wrong but with someone as addicting and beautiful as him, what were they to do? “I want to leave… but I can’t.”

Wilbur snickered, bringing a gloved hand up to rub their cheek softly.

“Can’t or don’t want to?”

They opened their mouth to answer but were just met with blank thoughts, knowing he was right.

They just stood there, looking at each other and neither one making any advancements or turning away to end it.

“If I… Wilbur, if I kiss you right now, what will you do?”

“Well, Y/n I might just not be able to let you go. So if you want to leave and never see me again, then go. I won’t stop you. But sunshine, if you kiss me right now I won’t be able to keep myself away.” He opened his hand up to put it fully on their cheek, holding them as though this contact meant the world to him. They leaned into his hand just a little, not breaking eye contact.

They thought hard about if this was really a good idea. They still had the time to back out if they wanted to, it wasn’t too late for them to keep him out of their life forever and not try to get to know him all over again.

It was a good idea to leave. The best and smartest idea even, but even still they chose the latter.

“You’re an evil man, Wilbur Soot.” They muttered before grabbing onto the collar of his jacket, pulling his face down to theirs, and kissing him hard, making both of them stumble a bit by Wilbur being off balance. His hands found their way back to their cheeks immediately though, holding them so softly. He pulled them closer, not seeming to want to give this moment a chance to leave. Y/n pulled away finally to catch their breath, they couldn’t help but look at his eyes just to find that he was crying. He was smiling as well though. The sight made tears prick their own eyes though they blinked hard to try and hold them back. Before, seeing him in tears never failed to make them cry. They could never figure out why but it still held true.

"Why are you crying, you idiot? '' They mumbled just before he put his forehead to theirs and closed his eyes, taking in a deep yet shaky breath.

"You’re finally back in my arms… after so long of wishing for you.” He pulled their face to him to kiss them again and laugh softly. “It’s just crazy.”

He leaned back when he slid his hands off their cheeks, but not before running his hand through their hair and sighing as he looked at them. “Y/n… I need you to listen to me, okay?” He still spoke sweetly, but something seemed to lay underneath the surface of this and this time they could tell.

“Okay… but I don’t know if I can trust what you are going to say.”

“No no love! Please,” He reached down to grab and hold both of their hands close to his chest as he looked into their eyes. “You can trust me. You can. I just… I have things I need to do now that I’m back. And these things, I know some people aren’t going to agree with, but no matter what happens. As long as you stay on my side, I can promise you the world.”

Wilbur leaned in close to them, voice growing quiet now but the small smile he bore looked sinister. “I can promise you the world because I am going to capture the world in my hands. And as long as you’re mine, it will be yours as well.” He stroked their hands with his thumbs comfortingly as if to smooth over the words he just told them.

“Wilbur… I have friends. People I think of as family and if you end up hurting them I…” They trailed off, looking away from him and at the rubble of L’manburg and reflecting on what happened the last time he had a great goal in mind.

“That’s perfect! No, that is just perfect Y/n!” He let go of them, eyes wide along with his smile. “You have time. Think it over sunflower, I will give you time.”

He easily slipped past them and took a few strides away. Y/n turned to look at him, their mind in a hopeless scramble of pieces. The two sides of their mind battled on if they should tell him off or blindly trust him. He looked back at them, glancing away again before he walked up to them and gently lifted their chin to get a good look at him.

Memories flooded back to them with the familiar look he gave them. As much as they wished it could be a positive moment, all they saw was the man who grabbed them and kissed them as he said his adrenaline-filled goodbye. The only difference now was he wasn’t ready to die, but looked more than ready to cause any other kind of damage.

“You really are beautiful… I hope you choose me.” He held their chin and rubbed his thumb over their bottom lip before kissing them again, longer and sweeter this time before he spoke against their lips. “Find me when you’re ready. I’ll be waiting for you.”

___________________________________________

While you're here...

pss pss psss 👁👄👁 i made art for it too

[calaofnoldor]

Sixth Time’s the Charm [4]

(GIF credit: @teamfreewill-imagine)

Characters: Sam x F!Reader, Dean

Words: 6,107

Series Summary: All the times Dean has tried to get Sam to admit his feelings for you. (Each chapter can be read as a stand-alone.)

Chapter Summary: You offer yourself as bait for a shapeshifter hunt. Things do not go as planned.

Warnings: canon level violence, language, idiots in love, mutual pining, huffy!sam, protective!sam, slight angst?, slow burn, fluff

A/N: i am SO sorry for the wait (story of my life) but to make up for it, look, 6k words! (yeah i’m sorry about that too, i don’t know what happened there.) written for @tvdspngirl314‘s birthday writing event with the prompt “You ever feel like that? Like you were just destined for someone?” which is bolded in the fic. this also fills a square for @spnfluffbingo​!

Square Filled: Rescue Mission

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The fourth time was all you. Dean barely had to lift a finger. The result, however, was far more traumatic than he had planned and rather emphatically revealed the magnitude of his brother’s feelings toward you.

Much like the previous attempts, there was a case: a shapeshifter going after women who conveniently happened to fit your description. The strategy was obvious, and you’d leaped at the opportunity to both make yourself useful and hopefully take the place of what would have otherwise been the next innocent civilian victim. But of course, Sam resisted at first.

“No. Absolutely not! We don’t know enough about this guy for you to just jump into his waiting arms, Y/N!” The fervent indignation in his tone and body language was palpable. Sam was rarely one to raise his voice or sport much of a temper at all really, but lately these heated outbursts seemed to be occurring more frequently, and frankly you were getting sick of it. The false hope they momentarily granted you through the notion that perhaps he cared about you as more than a friend was one thing. What’s more, the way his voice lowered half an octave combined with the sight of his flared nostrils, puffed chest, and straining jaw always seemed to have a sideways effect on you, in that it was impossible to keep your attention on his words alone. But boy did you try.

“Sam, how many times do we have to go through this? I’m a big girl; I can take care of myself. And your wrist is still healing so it’s not like you can call the shots on this one anyway. Besides, I’m not going in alone. You and Dean will be there for backup the whole time, right?”

“’Course we will, eh Sammy?” In a strange turn of events, Dean often appeared to be the one with a more jovial outlook recently.

Sam merely nodded and continued his heavy breathing. He glared down at his bandaged left wrist, the result of skirmish with a couple of wraiths, as if it were the root of all his problems. Then he looked up and through densely drawn brows, those magnetizing multicolored eyes pierced yours, his countenance bearing a charged and sullen expression of pensive exasperation as his jaw visibly tightened. You swallowed and could not for the life of you find the will to look away.

“So it’s settled then,” Dean proclaimed jubilantly, “Unless… you’ve got another reason you don’t want Y/N playing bait, hmm Sam? Maybe something you wanna share with the class? Or, you know, I could leave…”

“Dean, stop it. You’re not helping,” you quickly admonished before steadying your gaze back on the taller Winchester, “Look, Sam, have I ever let you down?”

“No. Never.”

“And do you still trust me?”

“Of course,” he responded immediately in a ‘what-kind-of-a-question-is-that’ tone, at which you simply raised your eyebrow to send him a reciprocating ‘then-what’s-the-problem?’ look.

“OK fine,” Sam huffed out a big breath, “But you’re not taking any risks! Anything seems off at all, just… promise me you’ll wait for me and Dean and keep us in the loop?”

His pleading eyes were so earnest and you’d truly never been able to say no to the giant puppy before, so you offered him a little smile and said, “Cross my heart.”

Sighing, Sam rubbed his face, looking lost in thought for a moment until he spoke up again, much more reserved and hesitant this time, “Do you still have that uh… ring from… that time?” Dean muffled a snort at his brother’s expense but you both ignored him, completely accustomed to his nonsensical teasing by now.

“Uh yeah, I- I think so.” The uncertainty in your voice was a lie. Of course you still had the ring you’d once used to pretend to be married to Sam Winchester. You may or may not have tucked it away in a special place for safekeeping.

“Good,” Sam nodded curtly, “I want you to wear it. It’s silver. I’ll wear mine too and Dean already has his. That’s how we’ll know that we’re still… ourselves.”

“OK, yeah that’s a good idea,” you agreed, trying your hardest not to linger on the memories.

“Well look at you two! Getting hitched again so soon-“

“Shut up, Dean,” you and Sam cut him off together.

When the meeting was adjourned and you were about to part ways to prepare for the upcoming hunt, something inside you forced you to call out his name, “Oh and Sam!” He turned around at once, questioning gaze somewhat urgently searching yours for a sign of what might come next. You stuttered though, feeling suddenly self conscious, so the next words you uttered were not much louder than a whisper, “Be careful with your wrist.”

Sam smiled, his dimples making your fingers twitch with the need to caress them. “I’ll be fine. You just look out for yourself. Remember, we’ll be right behind you.”

Somehow you both didn’t hear the groan Dean emitted as he rolled his eyes to the ceiling and prayed to whoever was listening, ‘Good lord, someone give me the strength to survive another day with these imbeciles.’

There was only one diner in the tiny Pennsylvanian town, and seeing as you were starving by the time you got there, the three of you were forced to make do with soggy fries and questionable milkshakes. As you ate, you went through your game plan once more, which essentially consisted of waiting until nightfall to visit the bar from where the previous girls had gone missing, while Sam and Dean shadowed you covertly.

Before you left, you took a quick trip to the loo and when you returned, Sam was stood outside alone, a broad smile upon his face.

“Where’s Dean?” you asked as you began to walk out the diner, expecting to find the older brother waiting impatiently in the parking lot by his precious car, but the Impala was gone.

“He went back to the motel, said he had something to take care of and that we should go scope the place out first.”

“But I thought we agreed to-“

“Yeah, well change of plans, you know how it is,” Sam replied casually with a shrug.

Little red flags started fluttering in your head, urging your eyes downward to locate the silver band on his finger. You frowned when you found it there untouched on his right hand; Sam almost never interrupted you, not even when he was absorbed in the foulest of moods.  

Apparently sensing your hesitation, he added, “I mean, he made a good point. Maybe if you familiarize yourself with the surroundings first, you’ll be able to take the guy out faster.”

Sam was still smiling at you, but it felt all wrong. You couldn’t explain it, but there was something missing from his rainbow eyes. The colors were all there, but they lacked luster and warmth, a delicate twinkle that you’d learned to associate with the beautiful, heroic yet self-doubting giant of a man. Never had you seen that breathtaking magic replicated elsewhere, nor had you ever seen Sam without it, which was why you were almost completely certain that the man before you was not the real Sam Winchester.

But weaving within you was a thread of doubt, insisting that you couldn’t just pull a gun on your best friend because of something as trivial as… a feeling? No, you needed to test your theory. And so, bracing yourself with a deep breath, you slowly reached out your silver-equipped hand to do something you’d grown accustomed to resentfully abstaining from: touching Sam’s bare skin. You aimed for the large target of his hand, deeming it the most inconspicuous of places (given that he was wearing his hunters’ uniform and the only other visible option would’ve been his face or neck), but Sam was faster. Just before you were able to graze his skin with your ring, he caught your wrist in his much bigger hand and pulled it away, twisting your arm until it was locked painfully behind you.

“You think you’re smart, huh?” the shifter snarled with a flash of its eyes, moving in real close as he used Sam’s immense size and his own superhuman strength to easily constrain you.

Even so, you stared up at him defiantly, unafraid, “Sam and Dean will be back.”

“That’s the plan.”

Sam’s sneering face and threatening voice were the last things you saw or heard.

You had no way of determining how much time had passed when you unceremoniously came to in what looked and smelled to be an underground sewer. As your senses sharpened and your muddled brain began to size up your current plight, you nearly scoffed at the clichéd style of your captor. Sat on a peeling wooden chair, manila rope bound your wrists together behind your back and tethered your ankles securely to each of the seat’s front legs.

Ignoring the ache in your head, you set about strategically testing the knots and the integrity of the wood. If only you could reach the silver blade in your boot. But your attempts were interrupted by the reappearance of the shifter, whose shoe hit something as he stepped before you. A metallic clang echoed through the confined space as a result and you followed the sound to find your coveted knife on the ground, far beyond your reach.

“Fucking hunters, always think they’re so clever, always one step ahead because it’s their game. Sure, we might be the monsters but you’re the predators! So let’s see how you like being the prey for once.” Shifter Sam’s upper lip curled up in a way that seemed so foreign to you as he leaned forward to rest his hands on either arm of your chair, caging you in.

The malicious glint in his eye left you with no qualms about affronting this being who, for all intents and purposes, appeared identical to the man you’d recently discovered you were in love with. Lifting your chin, you glared up at him brazenly, “If you’re so keen on being the predator then why am I still alive? What are you waiting for?”

“Why your knight in shining armor of course!” he exclaimed, backing up as he stood to his full height and gestured to himself with both hands. “You think it was a coincidence that all those women looked like you?”

The shifter’s narrowed eyes were alight with amusement and a ripple of fear surged through your body. You were in much deeper than you or the boys had anticipated, though years of practice helped you keep your voice steady and bold, “What did you do to them?”

“Oh, I gave them a fairly painless death, don’t you worry. They were just stepping stones on my way to you. See, the Winchesters owe me a girlfriend, so I figured I’d take the closest thing to theirs. But imagine my joyous surprise when I got into this big lug’s head and discovered that he’s in love with you! No, actually it’s more than that. He’s obsessed with you; you never leave his brain! Every other thought and memory is about you... Well, it’s either you or his brother, but oh, it’s gonna kill him to see you die before his eyes. I might’ve been able to replace my dead girlfriend, but I don’t think Sam here will ever come back from losing you.”

Stunned into silence, the stupid influx of misguided hormones pumping through your veins forced you to focus on maintaining a neutral expression as he rattled on.

“And you feel the same way, don’t you? So this really will be a double kill. It’s OK, you can let it all out. I might be a monster but I’m not one to deny the dying their chance for some last words. Besides, you can say it all while looking into the eyes of the man you love.”

“Fuck you,” were the only words you could trust yourself to spit out at him.

‘Sam’ laughed, but it was nothing like the laughs you normally pulled from him. It didn’t radiate like sunshine or replenish your soul with glee. Rather, it was chilling and conniving and despite the mimicry of Sam’s beautiful voice, you immediately decided that you never wanted to hear it again.

“Not feeling too talkative, huh? Or maybe you’d rather wait until he gets here in the flesh to make that anticlimactic confession of love? That’s alright, I can just tell you more about this dumbass’s feelings for you.” The shifter chuckled with delight, as if every word brought him nothing but pure joy. “Man, he loves you so much, it’s insane. I’ve never been inside the skin of someone so in love. And I thought I really loved my ex. Afterall, this whole revenge thing is for her. But I gotta tell ya, I’ve got nothing on Sam Winchester. Did you know he thinks you were made specifically for him? You ever feel like that? Like you were just destined for someone? Cause Sam does. That’s how he feels about you.”

“Why should I believe you?” you challenged, growing tired of the inadvertent response his words were eliciting. Your heart was pounding in your neck, core trembling at the mere possibility of Sam genuinely feeling the way he’d described. But you knew better than to trust a monster, and one who was in pursuit of maximal vengeance no less. Still, those rose-colored thoughts resonated within you, and you stumbled to dismiss them as they bubbled up, one after another like a game of emotional whack-a-mole.

Shifter Sam smirked, “Yeah, you’re a cynical one, aren’t you? You know everything he said in that marriage counseling session was true. You kinda hurt his feelings when you just brushed it all off. Even big brother Dean’s been trying to get him to confess his love for you. You must’ve heard them arguing about it at some point? They weren’t exactly being discreet.”

Choosing not to respond, you simply scowled at him.

“No? Still in denial? Perhaps you need details… You ever notice how he always sits across from you whenever you’re doing research? It’s because he thinks you’re gorgeous when you’re focused, and it gives him an opportunity to admire you without getting caught. And why do you think he lets you call him Sammy, huh? Yeah, he might not let it on but he fucking loves it when you do, makes him feel all tingly inside. And you remember that cop who hit on you? Captain Anderson, was it? Sam wanted to break the guy’s nose just for touching you. Oh and why do you think he asked you to move into the bedroom closest to his? It’s so he can keep track of your nightmares. He likes to keep you close because it makes him feel like he can protect you better when you need it.”

By now, your ‘neutral expression’ must have surely mutated to betray your shock, and you couldn’t have answered if you tried. The shifter didn’t seem to mind either way. In fact, he appeared to be having the time of his life.

“And it’s not all pure thoughts, let me tell you! Oh man, buddy boy here has dreamed up plenty of X-rated scenes with you, ranging from obnoxiously romantic to just plain obscene. You name a position and he’s imagined it, in high-definition detail,” he embellished, tapping an index finger against his temple, “His mind is like a library of pornos starring the two of you, although he’ll never get to live out any of his fantasies, will he? It’s a shame really; some of these are really hot... Ooh, I’ll have to borrow that one,” he said with closed eyes, as if a figment of Sam’s imagination was playing through his head in that very moment, “Maybe my girl and I can re-enact it while we’re still in your skins-”

“Shut up, just shut up!” you finally bellowed in protest.

Sam watched the bathroom door attentively after you’d disappeared through it, unable to contain the upward jerk of his lips when he saw you walking back out of it. Heartwarming relief had become his body’s intrinsic response to seeing you safe and sound.

“You ready?” he questioned when you made it to his side.

“Yeah, I’m good.” God, even the sound of your voice made him happy.

Once you got back to the motel, Dean plopped down onto one of the full-size beds, exhausted from the drive. Within a matter of seconds, snores began to fill the room, and Sam chuckled under his breath as he sat down around a wobbly table with you to continue your research on the shifter’s victims, hoping to find something else that linked them together or a clue as to where they might’ve been taken.

It wasn’t long before you inhaled a revelatory gasp and abruptly clutched Sam’s wrist to show him what you’d found. But your grip was harsh, causing him to hiss in pain and do something he’d never before done: recoil from your touch.

“Oh, I’m sorry, does it still hurt?” you asked nonchalantly, smiling up at him innocently.

Worse than the pain in his fractured wrist was what felt like sirens blaring in his head. You were always hyper-cognizant of his injuries and exceedingly careful around them, sometimes even more so than himself. Sam looked you over subtly, eyes landing on the silver ring still upon your finger. Perhaps his mind had been playing tricks on him and all that tender attention he thought you’d shown him was simply a mirage of his own wishful thinking?

“It’s fine, I just wasn’t expecting it.” Sam sent you a tight smile, to which you responded with a dazzling one of your own. It was beautiful but something about it felt off. In the past, you apologized profusely if ever you found yourself the accidental cause of his discomfort, no matter how indirect or insignificant the case, but right now there wasn’t a single speck of concern in your eyes. Indeed, the more he looked into them, the more he struggled to recognize the person staring back at him.

In a flash, Sam had you up against the wall, a silver blade held against your neck. He looked down to see the metal sizzling there, burning your flesh, and cursed himself for failing to notice sooner.

The noise woke Dean from his slumber and what he saw when he opened his eyes was equal parts shocking and amusing. “Whoa! At least wait till I’m out of the room! And isn’t that a little kinky for your first time?”

“Dean, it’s not her. She’s not Y/N,” Sam grit out, “She’s wearing the ring but she’s not Y/N.”

His brother’s brows knit together as he rubbed the sleep from his emerald greens. “Wha- How did you know?”

“She was acting… weird.”

Dean scrambled off the bed, making a quick call on his phone to ensure you really were missing. He paled when a robotic voice over the line told him the number he was trying to reach was no longer in service.

It was then the shifter decided to speak up, “You know, the real Y/N would have liked this, you pressing her up against a wall?” she murmured suggestively.

“Shut up. Where is she?!” Sam slammed her body against the flimsy motel wall once more and dug the knife in a little deeper. In his panic-stricken state, he barely registered her remark, being driven entirely by a one-track mind at present.

Shifter Y/N grimaced slightly, glancing down at the knife, “Maybe if you stop cutting into me with that, I might consider telling you.”

“How did you get the ring?”

“Oh, this little thing? You like it? It’s imitation silver, but otherwise nearly identical to the one on the real Y/N’s finger. You see, we’ve been following you for a while now.”

“Who’s we? Where did you take Y/N?!” he demanded incessantly.

“My boyfriend’s got her, but don’t worry, he looks just like you so I’m sure she’ll find her accommodations to her liking,” she retorted with a smirk.

Sam’s heart lunged in his chest and his mind began whirring with endless possibilities of escalating dread. Had you been deceived and captured by a shifter pretending to be him? Were you being hurt or tortured by someone who looked exactly like him? How would you ever be able to look at him the same way again? Of course, you’d know it wasn’t Sam but the damage would still be done. You would forever remember his face as that of someone who once hurt you, who tried to kill you. That is, if Sam could make it to you in time.

“Don’t worry, you’ll get to see her one last time. That’s actually why I’m here, to take you to her when the time is right,” the shifter added casually.

“I will end your miserable fucking life! Tell me where she is right now!” Sam roared before pressing the blade further into her neck, the veins in his forearms ready to burst through his skin.

“Hey, hey! Sammy, ease up! We need her alive, alright?” Dean bounded over to his brother and after quite the struggle, managed to assuage him enough to release his vice grip and replace it with silver chains that shackled her to a chair.

“Sam, maybe we should also be asking ‘why’,” Dean mused as he fastened the end of a chain against one of the beds.

With a shake of his head, Sam avowed through grinding teeth, “I don’t fucking care. I have to get to her.”

“And what if it’s a trap?”

“Then I’ll find her myself.”

Dean scoffed in disbelief as he turned to his usually wise and level-headed little brother, “Oh yeah, and how’re you gonna do that? Where would you even start?”

“I don’t know!” Sam exclaimed in exasperation. Then, after a pause of desperate deliberation alleged, “Shifters like to make their lairs in sewers, right?”

Taking a step closer, Dean maintained his challenging tone, “So what are you gonna do, just wade through the entire town’s shit and piss until you find her?!”

“If that's what it takes, then yes!” Sam looked like he was about to eat his brother alive.

“Aww, that’s so sweet,” shifter Y/N interfered from her seated position before them, raising her chin to meet Sam’s eyes, “Don’t worry, handsome, I can tell you she feels the same way. But unfortunately, by the time you get to her, I don’t think she’ll be able to tell you herself. In fact, you’ll probably hardly recognize her anymore… so you might want to keep me around, if only as a souvenir of your soon-to-be-dead girlfriend.”

Sam couldn’t contain himself anymore. Despite looking like a carbon copy of you, the evil gleam in the shifter’s eyes made her easily differentiable, and so Sam held back nothing when he lunged across the distance, knife in hand ready to do some real damage. However, Dean pounced with him, having predicted his brother’s violent eruption and felt his shaking wrath, knowing a little too well just how rash he could be when it came to you. Still, it took all of Dean’s strength to pull Sam back, sending him a stern but knowing look once he did.

“Sam, stop!” His low voice rumbled as he went into authoritative big brother mode, “Listen to me, you wanna save Y/N? Well so do I, but this is not how we do it! Now I know it’s hard, but I need you to calm down, alright?”

Sam’s massive chest was practically at his chin as he heaved ginormous breaths. Though his body language was still offensive, his hazel eyes were filled with fear and devastation when they looked toward his brother, “Dean, if I don't get to her in time, I’ll...” Clenching his jaw, Sam made a fruitless attempt to calm his tremoring frame and quell his tumultuous emotions. What would he do? Sam wasn’t even sure himself. All he knew was that every cell in his being was currently screaming at him to get to you, to make sure you were safe and soothe away any of your pain. There was nothing he wouldn’t give in that moment to simply know you were alright and to hold you in his arms. He knew you could look after yourself, but for once he had a terrifying feeling that even you were in over your head, that you might actually need him this time, and he’d be fucking damned if he let you down.

“Woah! Hey, hey! Sammy, look at me! That ain’t gonna happen, alright? We’re gonna find Y/N and we’re gonna bring her home in one piece, you hear me? We’re the Winchesters, man! We’ve faced the end of the world. What’s a couple of shifters got on us?”

‘You,’ Sam thought, ‘They’ve got you.’ But he appreciated Dean’s pep talk nonetheless and nodded in response as a fresh surge of determination swelled within him.

“Alright then,” Dean nodded as well, “Why don’t you let me give her a go?”

As Dean’s silver blade cut into the detained shapeshifter, Sam flinched with every moan and howl of agony. He knew it wasn’t you, but she still had your voice and your perfect face. Yet not a second was wasted on the feeling of relief when they finally managed to get a location out of her. Sam nearly tripped over himself in his haste as he snatched the Impala’s keys and his gun before flying out of the room with a jumbled order for Dean to stay with the monster.

“Well, if you’re not gonna admit your feelings for the giant lumberjack, I guess you’re right. Maybe I should stop yapping and get to prettying you up for that first and last date of yours, huh?” Shifter Sam prodded your cheek with a switchblade.

You said nothing. At this point, you had a sneaking suspicion that physical pain might be more bearable than the psychological torment your imprisoner had been so keen on. It was one thing for you to torture yourself by entertaining the slim possibility that Sam might return your feelings for him, but to hear such outrageous perceptions from a creature who could read the inside of his mind like a paperback novel, and conveyed with such tantalizing conviction… well, it just about broke you.

And knowing that the shifter was yearning to coax a confession out of you simply to cause Sam as much anguish as possible made you more resolute about your refusal to submit, beyond the need to protect your own sanity.

One shiner and a slash to the thigh later, however, you heard a loud clash. Shifter Sam paused his handiwork and began to turn around, “Could your knight be here ahead of schedule?”

‘Dammit,’ you thought. The Winchesters were usually capable of being stealthy when necessary but in case it really was the sound of them making a blunder or encountering some other form of resistance, you figured you’d buy them a distraction.

“Wait, wait! You’re right, OK? Maybe I do feel something for Sam, but even if I told him, I think you’re forgetting… This is Sam fucking Winchester we’re talking about here. He’s been tortured by the devil himself. You really think killing me is going do much damage?”

Your abductor had now given you his full attention, leering at you with a sly smile, so you continued, “Besides, you picked a fight with the Winchesters; don't expect to live to see tomorrow.”

Right on cue, a hulking blur of hair and plaid came barreling in, growling ferally as he grabbed the shifter and threw more than one brutal punch against what appeared to be his own face. The silver ring on Sam’s hand made contact with skin and his shifter counterpart groaned in pain.

You nearly forgot about your ceaseless work of untying the rope that cuffed your wrists together as your looked on in shock. Why Sam hadn’t just shot him with a silver bullet was beyond you. He was smarter than this. There was no need to drag out a monster’s death if a more efficient option existed. But as he continued to engage his clone in hand-to-hand combat, it appeared almost as if he was venting his frustrations on the shifter, as if he drank up every ounce of hurt he was able to inflict. But his high only lasted so long and shifter Sam soon regained his balance, making use of his supernatural invulnerability and superior strength.

“Sam!” you screamed as the shifter threw him across the room.

He tumbled up just in time as the shifter meandered over, “So nice of you to join us, Sam. You know, Y/N here was just telling me about-“

Sam didn’t wait for him to finish, choosing instead to tackle him to the floor with a loud grunt. While they wrestled on the ground, you worked furiously at the knots behind you, wincing with every hit Sam took though it was becoming hard to tell them apart.

When Sam finally drew his gun, the shifter was able to divert its barrel and a shot rang out futilely. Catching a subsequent elbow to the ribs had Sam falling to his knees and you watched in horror as shifter Sam once again gained the upper hand, sending the gun flying out of Sam’s grasp. The binding around your wrists was just about undone when Sam seized a stray rusty pipe and swung it against his counterfeit. Shifter Sam was incapacitated for a brief instant but quickly returned to form with some vicious hooks and a couple of well-placed knees.

With your hands finally free of their restraints, you staggered over to the gun, the chair still attached at your ankles. As you took aim, you shouted, “Sam, get down!” before you shot his mirror image through the heart.

Sighing, you slumped to your hands and knees whilst the real Sam sat up with his back against a wall, gaping at you with a look of awe. Yet before he even caught his breath, he was up and gliding toward you, cradling his left wrist at an awkward angle.

“Sam, your wrist!”

“It’s fine, are you OK?” he swiftly dismissed your concern, cupping your face with his good hand as he examined the darkening bruise around your eye.

You ignored the palpitations in your chest and placed a hand upon his wrist, “Yeah, I’m fine. He wasted more time playing mind games than anything. You know villains and their monologues,” you joked, trying to ease his tension and the deluded self-imposed guilt you knew he must’ve been brewing in.

As if to prove your point, Sam lamented, “God, I’m so sorry. I should have known. I should have gotten here sooner.”

“What? No! They were miles ahead of us, Sam. The whole thing was a set up; this was their hunt. How could you have known?”

Rather than replying, he released a breath and busied himself trying to help you out of your binding.

Back at the motel, after icing your eye and stitching up your thigh, you insisted on re-wrapping Sam’s wrist while Dean took care of shifter Y/N’s remains. But when the older Winchester returned and spied you and his brother sitting together on a bed through a crack in the door, he couldn’t resist the chance to exercise his espionage skills.

“How did you know she wasn’t me anyway?” you asked as you gently wound the ace bandage around Sam’s swollen forearm.

“I just…” He looked down at your nimble fingers upon his skin and smiled unwittingly at their tender touch, “had a feeling.”

Sam’s sunflower gaze locked onto yours for a frozen instant and something about his soft expression made you forget what words were, until he cleared his throat, “Did you um- did you know he wasn’t me?”

“Yeah,” you confirmed, smiling for some strange reason. Perhaps you were just glad to see his trademark twinkle return to those otherworldly eyes. “Pretty soon after actually. I… had a feeling too.”

Sam’s dimples made every ache in your body disappear as that twinkle glistened in full force, “And how’d you know which one to shoot?”

Well, that dampened your mood and brought you back to the task at hand, “Oh, I don’t know, maybe because you kept grimacing every time you used your left wrist?” Although your words had a bitter force behind them, the pressure beneath your fingertips never increased and Sam had almost completely forgotten about his pain.

You, on the other hand, were reminded of your struggle to reconcile with what had happened since his question prompted a restored and growing frustration.

It had been bugging you the whole time and you felt compelled to confront him about it because storming in alone with a bad wrist, ready to throw hands with an out-of-his-league monster was really not Sam’s style. Something must’ve gotten into him and with everything the shifter had told you, you couldn’t help but wonder. Nevertheless, you were a little afraid of how he might answer, so Dean had to lean in closer to hear your next words.

“Why didn’t you just shoot him?”

“W-what do you mean?” Sam stammered out after a pause.

“Sam, you have a broken wrist, but instead of sending Dean or using your gun from the get-go, you came in like a madman and went after him with your fists!” Your voice was full of incredulity though it also carried an undertone of anger.

As Sam picked up on that reproachful tone, you could almost feel the telltale signs of his puppy dog eyes coming on. “He used my face to deceive you, to hurt you. They manipulated us. I had to- ...I mean, he killed those women just to get us here. He had it coming!”

Your hopes plummeted. Of course, Sam was ever the righteous man. Why would you assume his brashness had been purely born out of a need to avenge you? Though regardless of his reason, you were still upset about his self-destructing behavior, “Yeah, but you had to have realized you were in no position to be the one to give it to him, right? I mean, you might’ve looked the same but he was juiced up on monster superpowers, Sam… which meant he was stronger and faster, not to mention uninjured, in his own territory, and apparently the only one with a sound plan.”

A breath of laughter left Sam’s lips though there was no smile on his face. Here he’d been on a mission to save you, but you were the one who’d ended up saving him, again. You must’ve thought he was comically stupid and pathetically useless. How could he possibly think he was worthy of you? “I guess I should thank you for saving my ass again, huh?”

“What?! No! That’s not what I mean. Sam, you’re the one who saved me! And I’m beyond grateful for it, really I am. I just wish you didn’t hurt yourself more in the process.” You finally finished up with his wrist wrap, securing the final ends with a clip, and letting your hands linger on his for longer than necessary, momentarily distracted by the disparity of size between them. Sam didn’t appear uncomfortable though, as his fingers twitched closer to yours and he made no move to pull away.

He couldn’t help but smile again when he noticed the sincere concern in your eyes that was previously absent in the shifter’s. “Yeah well, what was it you once said to me? ‘Your ass will always be worth it’?” 

“And if I remember correctly, you once told me you don’t do things on hunts that make your injuries worse,” you quoted him back with an arched brow.

“Yeah well, I guess this is payback. Now you know how I felt.” A playful grin made his dimples deepen and you clenched your jaw to refrain from gushing over the ridiculous cuteness of this ‘giant lumberjack’.

“You’re an idiot.”

“As long as you’re OK,” Sam answered assuredly, and you nearly melted when his free hand caressed your cheek for the second time that day, big thumb tracing a feather-light path below the purpled skin.

‘You’re both fucking idiots,’ Dean groaned internally from the other side of the door. He knew he had no choice but to up his game.

thanks so much for reading! feedback is greatly appreciated!

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TEAM MOOSE: @paulaern​

[sencire]

If I Could Turn Back Time

(Chapter 3)

Workaholic Clarke has one major regret. It’s deep and won’t heal and it has been haunting her for years. And every time she thinks about Lexa, it all comes back to her. One night, part way into drowning her musings on missed chances in a bottle of expensive red wine, Clarke is interrupted by the unexpected appearance of an unexpected guest in a very unlikely place, offering her a glimpse at something she thought she would never have: a second chance.

Read on ao3

Previously on If I Could Turn Back Time

“Costia. Hi.”

Clarke shrinks a little next to her as Lexa gets up to round the bench and starts talking to Costia quietly. It still stings, even though it was a long time ago, even though it's over, even though Lexa is here with Clarke and…they’re getting married. She wonders if Costia knows.

“Our favorite band is in town,” she hears Costia say. “Wanna come? Have a good time with me?”

“No, I don’t. Clarke and I already have plans.”

“Oh, Clarke and you have plans, huh? Boring Clarke and you. You were never into boring. Always looking for a good time, that’s what you were into. A good time, and me.”

It’s said with such a dripping snarl, it makes Clarke jump up right away. Before Lexa can react, Clarke has marched up to Costia and given her a shove, sending her staggering backwards.

“Ow, hey, what’s wrong with you?” Costia gasps, clearly taken by surprise by the attack.

“Get lost, you sad bitch. Leave us alone.”

“Hey, Clarke!” Lexa steps in front of her, eyes wide with concern. “Easy.”

“If you hit on her again, you’ll regret it!” Clarke yells at Costia over Lexa’s shoulder but then Lexa’s hand is on her cheek and makes her unclench her fists.

“Put her on a leash, will you?” Costia stammers. “I didn’t do anything.”

“Stop trying to kill her with your glare,” Lexa says, pulling Clarke with her. “Don’t let her wind you up like that. You know how she enjoys that,” she whispers to Clarke.

“I’m sorry,” Clarke says, pulling Lexa to a stop after a few steps. Costia stands frozen in her spot, a hand on her chest where Clarke pushed her. The physicality of her reaction feels strangely satisfying, even though Clarke never thought she would act on her dislike of Costia quite like this.

“What’s gotten into you? I’ve never seen you hit anyone!” Lexa smirks, although her tone is exasperated.

“You better leave,” she calls out to Costia, who still hasn’t moved, too stunned with surprise. “Not sure how long I can keep her calm.”

Costia is like Clarke’s red flag, infuriating her in an instant. It’s partly juvenile jealousy, but this happened because Costia was, is, and will always be a bitch. Said bitch huffs and turns on her heel now, stalking off in a show of fake indifference.

“You really have to let it go, Clarke.” Lexa’s hand drops from her shoulder. “Don’t give her what she wants.”

“I can’t believe you went for someone like that,” Clarke fumes, regretting the words as soon as they’re out and she clamps her lips tight, almost ready to cry because getting angry like this is what spoiled everything. She stares at her toes for a moment, not quite sure how to meet Lexa’s eyes.

“Sorry. I didn’t mean that.”

“I’m choosing to ignore that remark.” Lexa is still holding a bit of her croissant and tosses it into the trash can by the bench now. She stays there for a moment, flexing her shoulders.

“Costia lives here, so do we. We don’t have to get along with her but she’s going to pop up from time to time,” she says as she turns back to face Clarke. “The things that make you so mad were years ago and I’m over it. Okay? You should be too.”

“She’s an ass.”

“Yes, she is. I agree.” Stepping closer, Lexa presses a kiss to the tip of Clarke’s nose. “But you’re the one who gets to marry me.”

Her grin is contagious.

“I’m such an idiot.”

“You’re my idiot though,” Lexa coos, hooking her arm into Clarke’s. “Wanna go home? I’m going to swing by Gustus’ but you can go ahead and I’ll be there in a bit.”

“I’m sorry, Lexa. I really am.”

“It’s not such a big deal. She’ll think twice now before she talks to me again,” Lexa laughs but that isn’t what Clarke was talking about.

“I mean back then. Telling you to leave me alone. All of that. And everything else.”

“It’s all in the past. Water under the bridge,” Lexa shrugs. “I’m done thinking about it.”

But Clarke isn’t done, although she keeps quiet on their way back, lost in her own thoughts, until they part ways and she goes home on her own. She has no idea what happened after Lexa came back. All she has is this day, all she knows is a few small details. She doesn’t know if they talked it out, if they put it behind them, how it still affects them. They seem happy, but are they really? She debates going with Lexa, for the sake of not being without her, but she can probably use a moment to breathe and think.

She remembers Gustus well. Lexa and her sister Anya grew up with him after their parents died. She hasn’t seen him in years but he used to be a great guy, fussing over Lexa as a child, kind and surprisingly soft-spoken for a man of his size. He had all the muscle but Gustus was all brains. She wonders how he’s doing now. Here. And in her other world.

When she hears Lexa’s key in the door, she’s sitting on the couch, staring into the mid-distance, lost in her thoughts. She tried to practice her speech, surprised by how difficult it seemed to get together after so many years wishing she’d have the chance to say those words. But the second she sees Lexa smiling at her, her heart overflows with emotions and she doesn’t bring out a single word.

“Gus says hi. He seemed really cross that I was on my own,” Lexa jokes, a little breathless as if she’s been running as she leans down to kiss Clarke. “I told him I’ll bring you the next time.”

“Uh, sure…” If there is a next time.

Lexa flops down onto the couch next to her, pulling her legs up to look at Clarke. She was never able to hide anything from Lexa and her girlfriend can tell something’s up.

“Are you still upset about Costia?”

“No. Yes. I’m…no, not about Costia. I’m upset about myself. I wish I could turn back time and undo what I did.”

“Clarke. What brought this on all of a sudden?”

“I don’t know. I just…I wish I had done things differently. It would have been easier for us.” Clarke swallows heavily, a dark shiver of regret crawling up her back. It’s getting late and she doesn’t know how much time she has left. 

Lexa gets up and crosses to the corner of the room. There’s an antique bureau there and Lexa rummages through one of the drawers, finally pulling out a folded piece of paper. Clarke recognizes the stationery she used as a teenager right away. Lexa holds the letter out to her.

“Read it,” she says as Clarke gets up and takes it, unfolding it slowly, smoothing out the wrinkles. This letter was crumpled up, smoothed back out, a corner ripped off and taped back on, and then it was put away in a box for many years. “Out loud.”

Clarke clears her throat, her eyes skimming over the few lines of her younger handwriting.

“Lexa, this is the last time I’m speaking to you—” Her voice breaks and she looks up at Lexa, who studies her quietly. She nods, prompting Clarke to continue.

“…the last time I’m speaking to you. We’re strangers now. Do not ever talk to me again. If you see me, do not approach me. Do not answer this letter, call or even look at me. We are no longer friends, I don’t know you anymore. Goodbye.”

Lexa takes the letter from her gently, folds it twice and rips it apart. The sound tears at Clarke’s nerves and she looks down, unable to meet Lexa’s gaze. A hand cups her cheek, a finger lifting her chin, forcing her to look up into loving eyes.

“We both made mistakes,” Lexa whispers, leaning her forehead against Clarke’s. There’s a tiny tear collecting in the corner of one of her eyes, flowing over when she blinks. Clarke wipes it away gently.

“I didn’t know what I was doing,” she murmurs. “You hurt me. I loved you so much and you didn’t care.”

“That’s not true, Clarke, and you know it isn’t. I did care. Too much. This…,” she looks down at the torn letter in her hand, “…broke my heart. I’ve loved you since I was 15. And this is how you put a stop to it.”

“15? Why did you never say anything?”

“I wasn’t sure you’d like it. You were all gooey-eyed over Bellamy and…I just thought it would pass, that I was confused and it would go away. But it never passed, my feelings for you never went away. And you had your crushes, didn’t look at me that way. I figured I’d better get some crushes of my own or else my heart would never recover.”

“Costia?”

“Costia. We had a good time for a while. But she wasn’t you and you had made it very clear that you didn’t want me.”

Clarke feels like choking. There was never enough time to make it right again. She knows that now. Nobody had told her, until Costia did, only a few weeks ago. Shocking Clarke into forgetting to even pay, into just walking out, driving home in a daze and crying until she felt numb.

“But, like I said, I’m over it.” Lexa’s voice brings her back to the present. “It’s in the past. I’ve got you now.”

“Oh Lexa, I’m so sorry.”

You’ve got me now. I’ve got you now too.

Lexa fits into her arms perfectly. Maybe it isn't the words that they need now. They’re both sniffing a little, both overly emotional, and it tells Clarke that they probably never really talked this out before. But she knows when Lexa doesn’t want to talk anymore and it is that time right now. So she kisses her instead and doesn’t stop until they’re in a full-blown make-out session on the couch, like teenagers. Ending up doing things, though, that they wouldn’t have dared to do as teenagers.

“I can’t think of anyone else I would rather spend my life with,” Lexa says later as she pulls a blanket over their naked bodies. Their clothes are in a heap on the floor in front of the couch and the still nameless cat walked in once, gave them the evil eye and walked out again. “I love you so much.”

“And I love y—“

A flash. A heartbeat later, Clarke is back at her breakfast bar. Alone. Staring at the half-empty bottle of wine.

She quickly grabs her phone to check and sure, the angel was right. Only a second seems to have passed since she was flashed back and forth. She wasn’t done yet, 24 hours were not enough. Not at all.

“No, no, no, no, no! I have to go back. Send me back right away,” she says, looking around for Anael. But he’s nowhere to be seen.

“Anael?”

There are still so many things she wants to tell Lexa, all those things she has carried with her for so many years. All those things she was never able to say. 

“I have to talk to her again.” Clarke slips off the stool and opens the sliding door to an empty balcony. Turns on the lights in the hallway to find it empty as well.

“I have to tell her how important that day was to me. I have to tell her I was scared. I have to—” No angel in the bathroom either.

“I was a coward,” she cries, almost a whisper now because there’s no-one to hear her. “I made her hate me. I made Lexa hate me!”

She checks the last room as well, the bedroom, only to realize she’s being stupid. Anael is gone. If he was ever there at all. Back in the kitchen, her stomach clenches. She must have passed out from exhaustion. Imagined everything. But it felt so real. So damn real. Lexa. Her dad. Their life. Only a dream, triggered by her regret and her grief.

Angel my ass. Time to go to bed.

She wets a few tissues and finally cleans up the spilled wine, sets the bottle on the counter next to the sink and the wine glass in the dishwasher, tosses the remains of her food in the trash. Puts the baseball bat back. The hot shower does nothing to ease the emptiness in her heart, although it is a feeling she is growing used to. How it beat with Lexa in her arms. How it’s so still now.

With her hair still damp, she crawls under the covers and turns on her side, overcome by her boundless loneliness that feels even worse now that she knows what else she could have had. 

Whatever the reason for imagining a guardian angel was, it must mean something. She falls asleep thinking about it, finally giving in to her deep exhaustion.

[gamerwoo]

[Tales from the Pack] Joshua: Second Chance (Part Five)

Characters: Joshua x female reader

Genre/warnings: werewolf au, fantasy, fluff, fluffy angst, Josh is still a grumpy old man

Word count: 2,888

Summary: After his mate died, Joshua always blamed himself and never wanted to imprint again. However, fate has other ideas when he meets you: a young, energetic werecoyote that’s quite the opposite of him. He insists he doesn’t want a new mate – nobody’s even sure if he’s ready for a new one – but he can’t ignore his instincts.

Previous | Next | Second Chance Masterlist

“So how exactly are we supposed to...prepare?” Soomin wondered.

“Prepare what? Prepare how?” Soonyoung asked.

“Well, it’s not like Josh is gonna take this re-imprinting thing well,” Wonwoo shrugged. Ever since the news about Joshua imprinting during his doctor visit, that’s all the pack could really focus on or talk about. But nobody was completely sure when he’d be released, so they wanted to plan things ahead of time. “None of us are really sure what to do when he gets home. He’s probably not going to want to talk about her so do we just not say anything? Do we brace ourselves for him to go back to being angry and reckless?”

“Reckless?” Yeji snorted. “You can’t tell me that old fart was ever reckless.”

“There are tons of stories we could tell you about him doing dumb things, and there’s even more from before he met us,” Seokmin nodded, though he wasn’t about to get into details.

“Even Lilly would tell us stories of how Josh was a menace growing up,” Chan chuckled. “We’ve all seen him act aggressively. He was never really great at managing his anger, even when it--”

“Shut up,” Seungkwan hissed, knowing exactly what Chan was going to say and not wanting to start that conversation up again.

“Is that why the tip of his wolf’s ear is missing?” Suvi wondered.

“Not necessarily,” Soonyoung said with almost a sour tone.

“Okay, but despite all of that,” Minghao began, “do we really need to ‘prepare’ for Shua to come home? If he doesn’t want to talk about her, then he won’t. So then we won’t. Problem solved.”

Except nobody ever thought that Joshua might let the girl he imprinted on tag along back home. He walked in with Seungcheol and Kyung helping him into the house, the pack smiling and telling him how happy they were that he was going to be back to normal. However, Joshua ignored them all, not even sparing them side glances. He just stared forward and grumbled for the two alphas to bring him to his bedroom.

Then Jihoon walked in. He seemed stressed when he lifted his head to address the pack.

“Don’t mention her to Joshua, don’t even talk to either of them if they’re ever in the same room together,” he warned.

“Who?” Junhui asked.

And then Hansol walked in with you as your blue eyes wandered curiously, subtly sniffing the air of this new place. You smelled...a lot of things. But as Hansol had quietly told you on the way there, there were fourteen werewolves living there, along with seven mates. You knew you were going to be bombarded with a lot, but still, you could somehow easily pick up Joshua’s distinct scent above all else.

“Oh…” Jun murmured.

Your eyes then began scanning each face in front of you. You assumed these people must’ve been the pack -- who else would they be?

“This is _____,” Hansol introduced you as if Jihoon didn’t just come in and basically tell the pack to shun you in Joshua’s presence. “She’s a werecoyote.”

“That explains the weird smell...” Jeonghan muttered.

With Joshua upstairs -- Seungcheol came back down with Kyung and reported that he didn’t think Joshua would be leaving his bedroom at least for the rest of the day -- the pack brought you into the living room just to get to know you a little better. Truth be told, they were kind of excited to see what Joshua’s new mate would be like. Would you be like Lilly? Would you be like how Joshua is now?

However, they found you to be...odd. Nice, absolutely, but odd. Living in a cave instead of a home was the biggest red flag, but there were plenty of others. It was like you were raised like an actual coyote rather than a person.

“Didn’t you have a family, _____?” Chan decided to ask. “Parents? Siblings? Anyone to take care of you?”

“Well yeah, but--”

“But, like everyone else, they kicked her out or something,” Joshua’s voice surprised everyone as he appeared in the doorway to the living room. He raised his eyebrows at you. “Am I right? Yeah, so you’re not special.”

“Are we supposed to not talk to her now?” Mingyu barely whispered.

“I can hear you all upstairs, y’know,” the older wolf said as he strolled into the living room and leaned against the arm of one of the couches.

“Shouldn’t you be resting?” Danbi asked.

Joshua just shrugged, not saying anything in response.

“Okay…” Yeji looked away from Joshua and back at you, wanting to get rid of the odd tension that the grumpy werewolf had created. “So _____, how old are you?”

But when you gave them your age, Yeji chuckled at you, “No, I mean how old are you really? Like, how many years have you been alive?”

“Um...th-that many?” you shrugged.

“Figures,” Joshua muttered, “I get stuck with a baby were-creature. It’s like fate fucking hates me more than I thought…”

“Really?” Kyung chuckled, ignoring Josh’s comment. “You’re younger than even me.”

“By a year,” Hansol chuckled, nudging his mate’s knee. “You’re still a baby compared to everyone else.”

“What does that mean?” you wondered.

“Age freezing,” Mingyu replied with a shrug, as if that would be obvious to anyone.

You waited for someone to elaborate, but nobody did, “...What’s that mean?”

Josh let out a dry chuckle, sending a glare your way, “You really don’t know anything, do you?”

Kyung frowned and said something you didn’t understand as she turned her sour expression toward your mate, but he didn’t even seem fazed by whatever she said.

“When you reach a certain age -- usually somewhere between like, eighteen and your mid-twenties -- you stop aging until you find your mate,” Chan explained. “For example, I’m actually twenty-six years older than the age my body stopped aging.”

“But I’m the oldest,” Yeji grinned proudly, “technical and actual age.”

“Bragging about being an old lady isn’t--”

“Watch it,” Jihoon growled, glaring at Joshua, who didn’t get to finish his snide comment.

“Look, Shua. We get you’re in a bad mood -- really, we do,” Seokmin began, seeming almost afraid to stand up to the older wolf, “but...you’re kind of being really mean just in general.”

He let out a deep sigh, “Fine, whatever, I’ll shut up. You can go back to talking about useless stuff.”

“Anyway,” Danbi quickly spoke up, “as we were saying. Even Wonwoo and I seem only a year apart, but he’s actually older than me by...what was it, like, twenty years?”

Her brother nodded, his arm draped around his mate, “Yeah, mom had me at eighteen and then didn’t have you until she was thirty-eight.”

“Wait, what?” Mingyu suddenly spoke up, looking between the siblings with shock written all over his features. “I-- I didn’t even know that.”

Danbi just giggled and shrugged, “Guess I forgot to mention it.”

“So what happened with your family?” you asked the pair.

Wonwoo and Danbi looked back at you again. You hadn’t said a whole lot since being brought to the living room, so whenever you spoke, the pack paid a lot of attention.

“We moved around a lot so nobody would realize I didn’t age,” Wonwoo explained. “They wanted to just kick me out, but they also were afraid that their son suddenly leaving the house would be a big red flag that I was a werewolf. And of course, they couldn’t have people thinking that. They kept me around for a while but they didn’t treat me that great.”

“But they kicked him out when I was fourteen,” Danbi continued. “I was dabbling in potion-making, and they thought it was somehow Wonwoo’s influence. They said he was bad for their precious daughter, so they kicked him out. We’d manage to visit each other, either in town or he’d sneak into my room at night just to talk. When I was finally of age, I went to live with him.”

That wasn’t anything like what happened with you, but you didn’t want to mention it and make it about yourself. You kind of liked absorbing this new information about the pack, anyway. Hearing about them was entertaining in a way.

“Do parents...normally abandon their kids when they find out they’re a werewolf?” you wondered.

“No,” Hansol chuckled. “My parents are super loving and I visit when I can. We still go visit Kyung’s, too.”

“Even Rin’s were super nice before she came to live with us,” Kyung added with a nod.

Your eyebrows furrowed, “Who’s Rin?”

“Kyung came from another pack before joining ours,” Seungcheol explained. “Rin’s one of her old pack mates.”

“Soonyoung refers to her as Cooper, though,” Kyung explained, rolling her eyes. “He thinks her surname is fun to say.”

“Because it is!” Soonyoung insisted before quietly giggling to himself and softly saying, “Cooper...”

“Anyway, you’ll probably meet her...at some point...” Kyung trailed off, so you decided to not ask any questions about her old pack despite being intrigued.

Chan suddenly leaned forward, resting his arms on his knees as he spoke up, “_____, I have a question for you.”

“What is it?”

“Can you shift for us?”

“Ooh, yeah!” Seokmin grinned, excitement in his eyes. “We’ve never seen a werecoyote before!”

Joshua wouldn’t say it, but you could tell even he was intrigued by the way his gaze suddenly locked on you and he just stared, waiting for your response. He didn’t even have anything snarky to say.

"Um,” you shrugged, “yeah, sure.”

-

It was a little awkward just standing in front of a large group of people who just stared at you in wonder, but it was also a little flattering at the same time. Nobody in the pack had ever encountered a werecoyote -- well, other than Yeji -- so they were surprised to see you were really just a smaller, scragglier version of a werewolf.

“I wanna see how fast she really is,” Seungkwan decided before shifting into his wolf form.

So then the pack watched the two of you race from one end of the large yard to the other. You heard someone whistle lowly when you won, followed by the pack’s murmurs of how cool it was that you were faster than them.

And then everyone else wanted a turn to race you -- except Chan because of course he was still the fastest -- so the whole thing just turned into you play-wrestling with a bunch of werewolves. It made you happy, though. You kind of felt like you belonged in their pack.

However, there was still one member of the pack who hadn’t shifted: Joshua. He stood on the porch with the mates, watching as you and the rest of the pack ran around and played with each other. He kept a frown plastered on his face despite the fact he secretly found it endearing that the pack was already getting along with you and vice versa.

But there was still that part of him that didn’t want you in his pack to begin with.

“What’s with the sour look, lover boy?” Yeji quizzed.

Josh merely side-eyed her before going back to watching the pack, “Don’t ask stupid questions if you don’t want a stupid answer.”

“Give it a rest, grumpy,” she scoffed, rolling her eyes. “We all know you don’t actually hate her as much as you want everyone to think.”

“I don’t know...” Suvi began quietly like she was afraid to give her opinion. “I think he just invited her back here because he feels bad for her. Look at how he’s been acting.”

Joshua shifted his weight to one leg, pointing his thumb beside him at the younger girl, “She’s right.”

“No she isn’t,” Danbi chuckled.

“Yeah? And what do you know?”

“For starters, you haven’t stopped staring at her since we got outside,” Eunjin interjected in a plain tone.

“And you can frown all you want but your eyes show everything, Shua” Danbi insisted with a giggle.

Joshua just let out a sigh and rolled his eyes, “Shut up, all of you.”

-

With the sun having set, the pack called it a day and shifted before going back into the house, pulling on their clothes as they talked and laughed with each other. You were toward the back of the group, walking silently as the rest of the pack made playful conversation with each other. You weren’t really sure what was happening next, but you also didn’t want to ask and possibly set Joshua off -- or seem rude asking if you were supposed to leave now or not.

“So, um,” Seungcheol stopped and turned around, pulling his shirt on over his head before he looked at you, “since you’re here and it’s already dark outsi--”

“Don’t even say it,” Joshua grumbled.

Jihoon sighed, rolling his eyes, “Come on, are you really gonna make the poor girl walk home in the dark?”

“She can take care of herself,” he stated, eyeing you up and down -- but there was more of a disgusted look on his face than anything else.

You didn’t really care, though.

“I get she’s a werecoyote, but come on,” Kyung spoke up. “She almost died to begin with because she was running around at night.”

“Wait, really?” Junhui asked.

After the rest of the pack started getting on his case -- especially after learning that new information -- Josh let out a loud groan, letting his head drop back, “Fine!”

His tone actually made you flinch -- not because you were afraid, but the loudness startled you. 

He lifted his head, his golden eyes landing on you, and you raised your eyebrows. He narrowed his eyes, “You can stay on the couch for the night.”

You visibly perked up, “Couch? Like, the one in the living room?”

“Um...yeah?"

“Really?!” you grinned. You were practically bouncing with excitement. “Thank you so much!”

“It’s...just a couch...” Chan said slowly, not understanding what you were so happy about. 

Seungcheol nodded his head toward the living room, “C’mon. We’ll find some extra blankets for you.”

“I think you’re forgetting her usual sleeping space,” Jia pointed out quietly as the pack began to walk down the hallway again to start going to their separate rooms.

That was when it clicked. Of course you were excited to sleep on a couch, you lived in a cave. Your typical bed was probably not the most comfortable thing. They imagined it was probably either the cave floor, or maybe a bed of leaves and grass. A couch would definitely be a huge upgrade for you.

As you beamed watching Seokmin and Seungcheol work to set up a makeshift bed for you on the couch, Joshua silently and slowly approached you.

“Have you...ever slept on a bed before?” he wondered.

You looked at him and shrugged with a small nod, “Not for a really long time, though. It’s been...”

You trailed off as you tried to do some math in your head, but you genuinely couldn’t remember when it was you last slept in a bed. You couldn’t even remember what age you were when you left home. Things started blurring together.

“I don’t know how many years, but it’s been a long time,” you shrugged.

Years? God, why did you have to tug at Joshua’s heart when he was trying to be cold and push you away? You just had to have a tragic life story, didn’t you?

After a moment of listening to Seungcheol and Seokmin bicker about which way the sheet was supposed to go, Joshua let out a deep sigh, “Y’know what? Just go take my bed. I’ll figure this out since you two are too dense to figure out a fucking bedsheet.”

To say you were shocked was an understatement. You looked at Josh with wide eyes and raised eyebrows, blinking as you waited for him to take the statement back. Even the pack froze and waited to see if he was just playing some dumb prank on you to get your hopes up.

Joshua turned his head to look at you when you didn’t move, “I’m sorry, was I speaking a different language?”

You knew it was sarcasm, but you still replied with a simple, “No.”

“Then why are you just standing there?”

Kyung groaned, saying something in another language under her breath before she stepped forward, “Come on, I’ll show you were to go since Shua’s too busy being an asshole.”

You followed the foreign wolf out of the room and up the stairs to where Joshua’s room was, and then she tracked down some pajamas to fit you and helped you get settled.

Meanwhile, downstairs, the pack was still looking at Joshua. However, they were all smirking or wearing some sort of shit-eating grin.

“Nice excuse,” Yeji snorted.

Josh grimaced, “What?”

“We all know it wasn’t because dumb and dumber were taking too long,” Jeonghan smirked, shaking his head as Seungcheol and Seokmin called out in offence. “You felt bad and you care about her.”

“You liiiiiiike her,” Danbi sang.

Joshua rolled his eyes before he walked up to Seokmin and snatched the sheet from him, making the younger wolf flinch.

“Just get the hell out of my room,” he growled.

[whimsicallyenchantedrose]

Dead Man’s Cell Phone--Chapter 2

Summary: When Emma Swan starts getting phone calls and texts from an unfamiliar number, she decides to check it out–only to discover the number belongs to a Killian Jones, who was killed in a robbery gone wrong six months ago.  With some help from a medium, Merlin Emrys, Emma hopes to find out why a dead guy is contacting her–and why she feels such a strong pull to someone she has never met before.

Rating: K+

Tagging a few people who may be interested (Let me know if you want to be added or taken off the list): @sailormew4 @annaamell @flslp87 @emmateo26 @bethacaciakay @ultraluckycatnd @effulgent-mind @ilovemesomekillianjones@kat2609 @brooke-to-broch @missgymgirl @galadriel26 @the-lady-of-misthaven @charmingturkeysandwich @jennjenn615 @laschatzi @kimmy46 @snowbellewells @iamanneenigma @daxx04 @nickillian @a-rose-for-a-savior@in-spirational @gillie  @britishguyslover @ginnyjinxedandhanshotritafirst@kmomof4  @linda8084 @golfgirld @captain-swan-coffee @searchingwardrobes @hollyethecurious @laughswaytoomuch@allyourdarlingswans @winterbaby89 @facesiousbutton82 @cssns @therooksshiningknight, @lfh1226-linda @tiganasummertree @eastwesthomeisbest @dreamingdreamsalways @xsajx @justren21 @laughterandbooks @cocohook38​ @therealstartraveller776​

Welcome to my entry for the Captain Swan Supernatural Summer! A big thank you to @cssns​, the ladies on the Discord!  Thank you also to @eastwesthomeisbest​, my artist and my beta @veryverynotgood​!

Other Chapters: Prologue 1 3 4 Epilogue 

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

"So after the phone calls, the text messages started coming," Emma said, settling into her best friend's plush sofa.

"Texts?" Mary Margaret asked curiously before taking a sip of her tea. "What kind of texts?"

It felt like Emma had known Mary Margaret forever. Both girls were placed in the system at young ages-Emma, because her parents abandoned her on the side of a road as an infant, and Mary Margaret, because her parents both died of illness. They ended up in the same group home, and quickly became the best of friends. They were closer than sisters until the day Mary Margaret was adopted by Cora Mills, and then eventually, Emma was fostered by Ruth Nolan.

Even after being placed with other families, Emma and Mary Margaret kept in touch-letters, phone calls, even the occasional visit. On one such visit, Emma's foster brother, David, was home from college, and as soon as he and Mary Margaret met, it was love at first sight.

They were so in love it was honestly a bit nauseating.

When they got married fresh out of college, Emma couldn't be happier. She'd always considered Mary Margaret her sister in all the ways that counted, and now they truly were.

There was no doubt about it - Mary Margaret Nolan was the person Emma was closest to in the entire world, and so it was only natural that when the weird stuff with the cell phone started happening, Emma decided to discuss it with her.

"Weird ones," Emma answered, taking a sip of her own hot cocoa with cinnamon. "Stuff like Help! or You're the only one who can save me!. And then some of them were even stranger. Just...random letters and symbols, almost like someone was randomly pressing buttons on a keyboard."

"So what did you do?" Mary Margaret asked, sitting on the other side of the sofa and turning toward Emma.

Emma shrugged. "I tried answering at first. You know, you hear about people who are abducted and, like, stuck in a basement for years and stuff like that. I kept thinking, what if someone really needed help and I just...ignored them?"

"And what happened when you answered?" Mary Margaret asked.

"Nothing," Emma answered before taking another sip. "No answer, just another cryptic text several hours later. Finally, I decided I'd had enough. Either someone needed help, or someone was messing with me. I decided I'd call the number, decide whether I needed to help them or tell them to go f-" She stopped, glancing over at Mary Margaret's toddler playing with blocks nearby. "Well, go do something not at all child-friendly to themselves."

"Let me guess, your call didn't get through."

"Nope," Emma confirmed, "but it was even weirder than that. I dialed the number just after receiving a text, but it went directly to voicemail."

"But that's not possible!" Mary Margaret exclaimed.

"Right?" Emma said. "So I tried to ignore the whole thing. Maybe the phone was just...I don't know..glitching or something, although I don't know how a technological glitch could make phone calls and text someone. Anyway, for some reason, I just can't let go. Even though I don't know him, somehow I feel a...connection...to this Killian Jones. I just-I don't know what to do about it."

Mary Margaret was silent for a moment, taking several sips of her steaming beverage, before turning back to Emma with a cautious look in her eyes. "There is...there is another possibility, if you have an open mind."

"Just how open are we talking?"

"Pretty open," Mary Margaret said. "What if-and just hear me out, I know this is crazy-what if Killian Jones is contacting you from beyond the grave."

"What, like a ghost?"

Mary Margaret shrugged. "I mean, I know it sounds crazy, but why not? One of the other teachers I work with was talking about this medium. His name is Merlin Emrys. Supposedly he can contact the dead and see ghosts and stuff like that."

"A medium? Seriously?" Emma asked, crossing her arms and raising an eyebrow. "Mary Margaret, you know those people are frauds. It's all about researching their marks ahead of time and then cold reading them. They're only in it to bleed as much cash out of vulnerable people as possible."

"I know it sounds crazy," Mary Margaret conceded, "but what if it's not? I've thought about going to him myself. If I could just talk to my parents one more time-make sure they're okay, make sure they've moved on, or whatever happens after someone dies. Well, it would provide a lot of comfort."

Emma's heart turned over, and she took her friend's hand. She knew how much Mary Margaret missed her parents. It was different for Emma. She'd never known her parents, only knew they'd tossed her out like garbage. She wasn't sure she even wanted to find them.

"I know you miss them," Emma said.

"I do," Mary Margaret said, "but that's not the point. The point is...what do you have to lose? Maybe this Merlin is just a quack like you said, but maybe not. Maybe he could be the key to unravelling the whole mystery."

Emma was silent for a moment. It was crazy; she knew it was. A medium wasn't going to give her the answers she needed if all her bail bonds tricks had failed her, but what the hell?

"Fine. I'll go see Merlin," Emma caved.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Emma's eyebrows rose as she took in the small, ranch-style house Mary Margaret had directed her to. She was skeptical before seeing the place, but now-now red flags were going up everywhere.

There was a huge, gaudy sign out front that read "Merlin, the great and powerful. Wizard of the unknown and medium of the great beyond." The sign-indeed the entire front of the house-was decorated with all kinds of astrological signs and symbols.

Was this guy even for real?

Emma seriously considered turning around and getting back in her car, but she'd promised Mary Margaret she'd at least check this Merlin out and give him a chance, and Emma was a woman of her word. She took a deep breath and knocked on the door.

A moment later, an older man with longish, thinning gray hair and a rather unkempt gray beard opened the door. He was wearing long robes. Really playing the part, apparently.

"Merlin Emrys, I presume?" Emma asked as the man welcomed her inside with a sweep of his hand.

The man chuckled. "I'm afraid not. I'm merely his apprentice. Who might I tell Merlin is calling?"

Emma cocked an eyebrow. "You mean your all powerful boss didn't see me coming with his second sight or whatever?"

Emma stepped inside and the apprentice shut the door after her. "My master isn't clairvoyant. He merely has the ability to speak with the dead."

"Right," Emma said, not even trying to tamp down the skepticism in her voice. "I'm Emma Swan, and I'm here to-"

He stopped her with a raised hand. "Don't say too much. Merlin does not wish to be influenced by his clients. He wishes to sense the energy around you for himself."

Emma shrugged. "Sorry."

"It's quite alright," the apprentice said, moving toward large drapes at the far end of the room. "I'll be just a moment. Please, make yourself comfortable."

Emma looked around the room while she waited, and it took everything in her to keep from rolling her eyes. This guy was really playing up the whole "psychic" thing. It felt like she was in some sort of fortune teller carnival tent. All the signs and symbols. This guy even had a crystal ball. An actual crystal ball.

This trip was a massive waste of her time, but maybe it would at least prove to be entertaining.

"Emma Swan, welcome!"

Emma looked up at the handsome black man who made his way through the curtains. He was dressed in much the same way as his apprentice, only he wore a sorcerer's pointy hat on his head.

"Uh, thanks," Emma said, stepping forward and offering her hand. "Full disclosure. I'm more than a little bit of a skeptic, so if this is one of those 'it can only work if you truly believe' deals, we might have a problem."

"My gift can withstand the doubts of the skeptic," he chuckled before reaching out and taking her hand.

No sooner had his hand touched hers than he gasped, taking a step back, eyes going wide. "Would you-would you care to follow me back to my private sitting room, Miss Swan? It's far more comfortable back there."

Emma cocked a brow again, wondering what this odd man was on about. Still, she didn't sense any overt deception in him, and he didn't seem to be any threat to her, so she shrugged before following him through the curtains.

This backroom was far more ordinary than the room they'd just inhabited. Emma took a plush armchair, and Merlin sat on a sofa across from her.

Merlin pulled off his hat and sat it beside him. "I apologize for all the theatrics, Miss Swan," he said, reaching for a pot of tea and then raising an eyebrow in question. Emma declined the beverage with a small shake of her head, and Merlin proceeded to pour himself a cup. "I attempt to play up to what most clients expect from a psychic. Unfortunately, most poor souls who come to see me are out of luck. The loved one they wish to contact has passed on. For most, all I can do amounts to smoke and mirrors. I could tell the moment I shook your hand that you were different."

Emma inwardly scoffed. She knew enough about cons not to be fooled by a clever con man. Made sense he'd use a different tactic with a skeptic than he would with some poor, grief-stricken sap who was a true believer.

"No offense, but I still think you're full of crap," she said.

Merlin smiled. "It seems those with the most energy surrounding them always do."

"So, what?" Emma asked. "Are there ghosts all around me or something?"

"There are a few spirits here with us today," Merlin confirmed. "There's one who's quite insistent. It's a man; looks as though he died rather young. I don't sense he's family, but you were close. Maybe coworkers? Perhaps friends?"

Emma took a deep breath, a face coming to mind. Surely he couldn't mean-

"I'm getting a G in the name," Merlin said slowly. "Greg or Gray….no. Graham."

Emma's heart turned over. Graham. Sweet, slightly dorky Graham Humbert. They'd worked together on more than a few cases, and they'd become good friends.

In fact, they'd been teetering on the precipice of possibly becoming more than friends when he died suddenly.

"How did you know to mention Graham? How did you know that name would get the biggest rise out of me?" Emma demanded, voice hard.

"I don't choose the spirits who come to me," Merlin explained calmly, "I merely give them a voice. Graham is pleased to see you again. He's glad you're doing well."

The anger came then, spurred on by the pain the memory of Graham's death brought back. "Why are you doing this to me?"

"He died quite suddenly, didn't he?" Merlin asked, ignoring her question. "I'm feeling a tightness in my chest. Something with his heart?"

"Heart attack," Emma confirmed tightly. "He had a heart attack right in front of me and died in my arms."

"He's sorry, so very sorry you had to go through that," Merlin said, putting a comforting hand on her arm. "He never wanted to be a source of pain for you."

Emma felt the tears at the back of her eyes and had to take a deep breath to keep them from falling. "Yeah, well, he didn't exactly have a say in the matter. Look, I don't know how you knew to bring up Graham, but I'm still not buying it."

"He apologizes he couldn't bring you a bear claw today," Merlin continued with a smile. "Oh, and he asks if you remember the day he thought he saw a wolf. He wants you to know he wasn't drunk. It really was there-in spirit at least."

Emma gasped, remembering the night she and Graham had gone to the Rabbit Hole for a drink after a long shift and Graham swore he spotted a big, gray wolf right there on the main street of town. Emma had made fun of him for that, telling him he'd clearly imbibed a bit too much that night. There's no way Merlin could have known about that incident. He couldn't have found it in any newspaper or online article about Graham's death.

Was it...was it possible this guy was the real deal?

"Okay, I admit, it's weird you'd bring that up," Emma said. "Let's say I believe you, can you ask Graham if he's okay? If he, like, moved on or whatever?"

"You just asked him," Merlin said. "He's here with us and can hear you. He wants to tell you that he is okay. He's more than okay; he's happy. He's moved on, and he's at peace, more than he could have ever thought possible."

Emma smiled, feeling comfort at the thought.

"There's someone else here with us as well," Merlin said. "Another male presence, but I don't believe you know this one. This one seems angry, desperate."

"Um...should we be scared?" Emma asked.

Merlin shook his head. "He doesn't mean us harm, only wants his story told. He's too indistinguishable to speak now, but I sense he'll be accompanying us on our journey today as well."

Wonderful. An angry, desperate ghost guide. Just fantastic.

"So, Emma," Merlin said, after a moment, "what brings you to me tonight?"

Emma pulled out her phone and laid out the entire story for Merlin. She told him about the calls, the texts, everything. Merlin took her phone in hand and gasped as soon as it touched his hand.

"There is a huge amount of energy here," he said. "There's no doubt a spirit has attached itself to you-or at least your phone."

Emma felt a chill. "My phone is haunted?"

"Not precisely," Merlin murmured, turning the device over in his hand. "Someone wishes to get your attention; wishes for you to help him, but there's something odd here, something I can't quite place."

"What do you mean?"

"The spirit is...indistinct," Merlin said, "hazy and just beyond my reach. I've never experienced anything like this."

Emma waited, her curiosity more than piqued at Merlin's odd reaction to her cell phone.

After a moment, Merlin's eyes widened. "Your friend Graham cleared up the mystery for me."

"What?" Emma asked. "What does Graham say is going on?"

"The reason I can't get a clear read on the spirit attached to your phone-this Killian Jones-is, well, because he's not dead."

Notes:

-So there you have it. For those of you who have wondered how this story could possibly have a happy ending since Killian is dead-this is how. He's not actually dead!

-Up next: With Merlin's help, Emma finds out how this is all possible-and she finds the not-dead Killian Jones.

                                                                            Next Chapter-->

[misalpav]

typical response from the common user on the no-reading-comprehension website. the saga continues.

alright so I was trying to just be passive and let it go because I don't know who you are and nor do I really have the time or the energy for extra negativity in my life but ig u want to make a big deal of this so have it your way I guess.

you asked a question. "do I not know how to read?" I'm assuming you understand the question mark at the end regardless of whether or not you know the language my response was written in, so all I did was ask a counter question. the point I wanted to convey was that, unfortunately, English isn't the center of the universe like many people like to believe and even for the people who are fluent like me, misreading something is a common and human error. as @janetsnakehole02 said on the post that this whole thing started with, if we truly did misread the post then sorry and I'm honestly just glad that we're all on the same page.

and honestly, I own up to my mistakes and don't try to hide who I am. if I misread op on that post, I'm sorry and if op didn't block me I'd absolutely go say it to them personally. the fact you use anon to harass me online in itself says a lot about you to me. you don't know me and you have no right to comment on my education or frankly any of my qualities.

let me also add here that if you're calling this the no-comprehension website then what are you doing on it lol. maybe try thinking twice before making an argument that puts you just as much in the deep as it puts me?

I also don't see it worth my time to respond to your other ask separately so here's that:

wow ok so where do I begin. first and foremost, my blog my choice. I will post about whatever the hell I want to and to whatever extent that I want to and I really don't care about what you, or anyone else for that matter, thinks. the fact that you want to comment on that once again gives me a huge red flag about your character. once again I will iterate that nobody asked you to be here, least of all me, and you are welcome to leave, unfollow me if you were following me (in which case please also turn off anon and let me know in the off chance we're mutuals so I can end that right there), and if you want to, go ahead and hit block (once again if you want to tell me who you are, the action can be reciprocated) and we never have to get in each other's way again.

I hope you realize that whatever happens next is completely in your court, but please realize that I'm also not an idiot and I know when to end an argument. any more harassment from you will be ignored because I'm not so insecure as to have to rationalize myself to somebody who's clear goal here is just to make fun of me. if you'll take any advice from me, then just don't waste your time sending me more asks with your opinions on my life because I don't care.