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enhaflixer · 5 months ago

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super villain from temu (villain & violent, infant & innocent)

Villain!Sunghoon x Hero!reader

(Crack, fluff)

wc: less than 1000 words

synopsis: He became a villain by accident. You became a hero by chance. Now, you're both stuck in a never-ending game of tag—except he's definitely losing (and somehow still flirting)

AN: hi guys!!! please let me know what u think in the comments i would really really appreciate it! leave as many requests as you would like!

Masterlist

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You weren’t exactly sure when Park Sunghoon became your biggest problem, but here you were, once again, staring him down in the middle of the city, exasperated beyond belief. The night air was crisp, the moon hanging overhead, casting silver light across the rooftop where you stood. It would’ve been almost picturesque—if not for the dork in the villain cape standing in front of you.

“You’re late,” he huffed, crossing his arms over his chest, his cape fluttering slightly in the breeze. “I had this whole villain monologue prepared, but now I’m just standing here like an idiot.”

You pinched the bridge of your nose. “Sunghoon, do you ever stop talking?”

“No. And as your sworn enemy, you should appreciate my dedication.”

You had long since stopped taking him seriously. Not because he wasn’t capable of mass destruction—no, the problem was that he was way too awkward to be genuinely evil. Like last week, when he tried to steal a hotdog cart as a distraction but ended up tripping over a ketchup bottle and getting mustard all over himself. Or the time he tried to hijack a news broadcast, only to accidentally press the weather channel button instead.

And yet, despite all his antics, Sunghoon still insisted he was your archnemesis. It was kind of… cute.

“I assume you’re here to fight,” you sighed, stretching your arms as you got into a battle stance. “Let’s get this over with.”

Sunghoon’s expression flickered for a moment—was that hesitation? He shifted on his feet, scratching the back of his neck. “Yeah. Fight. That’s what we’re doing.”

You raised an eyebrow. “Unless you have something else planned?”

“No,” he blurted out way too fast. Then he coughed, trying to look serious again. “I mean—yes. I have the perfect plan.” He lifted his hand dramatically, but nothing happened.

A long silence stretched between you. Sunghoon lowered his arm slightly, glancing at you. “Uh. I forgot what it was.”

You groaned. “Oh my god.”

“Wait, wait, I have a backup plan!” He rummaged through his pockets before pulling out a small remote. “Now behold, HERO!” He pressed the button, and suddenly—a metal cage clunked down from above, trapping you inside.

You blinked. “What the hell?”

“Jokes on you! I stole your dog! Now I have the upper hand, HERO!” Sunghoon cackled, arms crossed triumphantly.

Except. One tiny issue.

“I don’t… have a dog.”

Sunghoon’s face froze. “Wait. Then whose dog did I steal?”

A distant barking sound echoed from the side of the rooftop, followed by the furious stomping of an angry old lady.

“THAT’S MY DOG, YOU IDIOT!” she screeched, waving a cane in the air.

Sunghoon turned just in time to see the old woman whack him over the head. “oh shit.” He yelped, immediately bolting away as she chased him down the stairs. You stood there, watching the scene unfold, trapped in the ridiculous cage, contemplating your life choices.

After chasing Sunghoon down, knocking him out, and handing him over to the authorities (who, at this point, were getting tired of his antics), you sat beside his holding cell, sipping your drink.

Sunghoon, now sitting on the bench inside his cell, stared at the ceiling, pouting.

“This is so embarrassing,” he muttered. “I am a disgrace to villains everywhere.”

You leaned back against the wall, shooting him a lazy smile. “At least you’re entertaining.”

He exhaled, rubbing his hands over his face before finally looking at you. “You know… this whole villain thing?” He gestured vaguely at his surroundings. “It kinda started as a joke.”

You tilted your head. “What do you mean?”

Sunghoon let out a dry laugh. “Back in college, you just… became a hero. It wasn’t even some big, dramatic thing. You helped someone, people started calling you one, and suddenly it stuck. It was effortless for you.” He hesitated. “And I… I wanted to get your attention.”

Your breath caught slightly. “Wait, so you—?”

“I thought if I became a hero too, we could fight together,” he admitted, rubbing the back of his neck. “Maybe you’d finally notice me. But I guess I botched it, because people didn’t call me a hero. They called me a villain. And instead of correcting them, I just… rolled with it. It was kind of… fun?”

Your heart twisted. “So this whole time—”

“Yeah.” He chuckled, shaking his head. “Not exactly how I pictured my life going, but hey, at least I get to annoy you for a living.”

Despite yourself, you laughed. A real, genuine laugh. Sunghoon’s eyes flickered with something unreadable before he grinned, his usual smugness returning. “See? I can still make you smile, even from jail.”

You sighed, shaking your head as you stood up. “Well… you’ve definitely got my attention now.”

Sunghoon blinked, then smirked. “Oh? So you admit it? You can’t resist me?”

You leaned down slightly, close enough that he sucked in a sharp breath. “I think you just like being chased by me.”

Sunghoon’s grin stretched wider as he leaned back against the wall, looking far too smug for someone in a holding cell. "Ohhh, you want me so bad. Just admit it, Y/N."

You rolled your eyes, but the warmth creeping up your neck betrayed you. Maybe you did. Just a little.

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the-writerwoman · 3 months ago

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I was persuaded by @that-final-garnish to write this. I was bribed with pics of Wade and Logan in 80’s crop tops and shorts 😂

Short, sweet, and super soft Logan, enjoy!

—————

The sun was high, shimmering off the lake's glassy surface. It was the kind of day that practically begged for cut-off shorts and popsicles. Kids in bright swimsuits shrieked with laughter as they splashed around in the water, already being herded by fellow camp counselors Remy and Yukio.

Wade stood on the dock in a red one-piece swimsuit, a red visor perched on his head, and a waterproof fanny pack slung around his waist. It was filled with band-aids and lollipops because, “You never know, Logan.” He used to have a whistle but lost it on the first day.

He was in the middle of telling the kids a joke about a duck walking into a pharmacy when Logan blew his whistle.

“Alright, that’s enough with the quacking,” Logan barked, lips twitching as the kids groaned and moaned and slowly lined up at the edge of the dock. “Come on, campers. Form a line. You know the drill.”

“Geez, someone woke up on the responsible side of the bunk bed,” Wade muttered, but he grinned anyway. Logan stood at the end of the pier in a white tank top that clung to his chest and a pair of snug red shorts, looking every bit the hot, responsible counselor. The whistle around his neck bobbed every time he moved, and Wade tried very hard not to get distracted by his thighs.

“Alright, if you can swim, head in. Remy and Yukio’ll keep you afloat. No cannonballs unless you want me to make you mop the mess hall.”

Kids whooped and jumped in. Splashing ensued, chaos all around, just how Wade liked it. But as the line dwindled, Wade noticed a kid hanging back. A little guy, probably seven or eight, arms wrapped around his torso like he was trying to disappear.

Wade knelt beside him, visor tilted back. “Hey, buddy. What’s goin’ on? Not a fan of organized aquatic activities?”

The kid sniffled and shook his head. “I’m scared,” he admitted quietly. “I can’t swim.”

Wade blinked. He wasn’t great with serious stuff, but something in the way the kid’s bottom lip wobbled made him want to at least try. “Hey, that’s okay,” Wade said gently. “No one’s gonna throw you in or anything. We got a whole team of lifeguards out there. This lake’s more secure than a…a lion in a herd of zebras.”

The kid gave him a confused look.

“…What I mean is, it’s safe. But it’s okay to be scared. I get scared of stuff too sometimes. Like spiders. Or commitment.”

That got a weak giggle.

Wade smiled, but before he could bumble through any more weird analogies, Logan appeared at his side and knelt, one knee cracking slightly as he came down. “Hey, pal,” he said, voice low and kind. “You don’t gotta do anything you don’t want to, alright?”

The kid looked at him with big, wet eyes. “But everyone else is swimming.”

“I know,” Logan said. “But they all started somewhere too. Nobody is born knowing how to swim, except fish.” That got another wet giggle.

“Tell you what, I’ll walk you down to the edge and you can walk in. You wanna try wading in together? Just a little bit?”

The boy hesitated, then gave a shy nod.

“That’s my guy,” Logan said with a soft smile. “Let’s go real slow, yeah?”

Logan held out a hand, and the kid took it with trembling fingers. Together, they stepped off the pier, Logan guiding him down into the water carefully. Wade sat down on the pier's edge and watched as Logan said something to make the kid laugh, and they splashed in the water with their feet a little. Logan knelt again and said something to the kid, who nodded, then called Remy over.

They exchanged words that Wade couldn’t hear, and the kid took Remy’s, who walked them deeper into the lake together.

Logan walked back up the pier, wiping his hands on his shorts. “All good,” he said before sitting next to Wade.

Wade was still staring.

“…What?” Logan grunted, glancing sideways.

Wade sighed dramatically. “You do realize I’m never gonna emotionally recover from how soft you just were, right? I mean, that was, like, Hallmark movie levels of adorable. My heart? Gone.”

Logan rolled his eyes, but there was no heat to it. “Shut up,” he muttered, but it sounded almost fond.

Wade bumped their shoulders together and grinned. “You know, if you keep being this sweet, I’m gonna propose before the end of camp.”

“You try it and I’ll dunk you in the lake.”

“Promises, promises.”

Logan didn’t say anything. Just shook his head and looked out at the water, the corner of his mouth twitched up into what might’ve been a smile.

Wade leaned back on his hands and let the sun warm his chest, sneaking one more look at Logan and thinking, “Yeah. I’m in trouble.”

#poolverine #deadclaws #peanutbub #deadpool 3 #logan howlett #wade wilson

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notyouraveragegirlxx · 14 days ago

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Burning Bright D.W

Pairing: Dean Winchester × Reader

Content warning: Strong language, sexual content, rough emotional tension

┉┉┉┉┉┉┉┉┉┉┉

The first time you met Dean Winchester, you hated him.

It wasn’t the good looks — though yeah, they were infuriating. That smug, infallible face, like he’d never known fear, like he’d walked out of a bar fight with blood on his knuckles and a woman on his arm without breaking a sweat. It wasn’t even the way he leaned against his precious black Impala, arms crossed, cocky half-smirk curving his lips like the world owed him something and he’d already collected.

No. It was the way he looked at you — like he’d already decided you couldn’t handle it. Like he didn’t give a damn what you knew or what you’d survived.

And when you handed him your case notes, your carefully annotated pages of lore, he flipped through them once and muttered, “Cute. But I’ve killed more demons than you’ve Googled.”

You stared at him, silent for a moment.

“You always this much of an asshole, or is this just a Winchester thing?”

He chuckled, that deep, throaty sound that did things you hated to admit. “You’ll warm up to me, sweetheart.”

“I’d rather warm up to a corpse.”

Dean raised an eyebrow, as if impressed. And it wasn’t until you walked past him, shoulder brushing his chest on the way into the rundown safe house, that you realised something else.

He wasn’t laughing anymore.

┉┉┉┉┉┉┉┉┉┉┉

The next night, you fought side by side.

A demon had possessed the town pastor—twisted, cruel, and a little too on the nose. You and Dean burst into the chapel during evening mass, blending chaos with holy water and Latin like seasoned warriors. You didn’t have to look to know he had your back, his shotgun booming in perfect sync with your chants.

You barked orders over your shoulder without hesitation—“Left! He's circling!”—and Dean followed without argument, but not without comment.

When it was over, the vessel lay dead. The demon banished. The town blissfully unaware.

You leaned against the brick wall outside the church, chest heaving, blood drying on your jeans—someone else’s. Someone unlucky. The night was quiet again, except for the low rumble of thunder far in the distance.

Dean stood a few feet away, reloading like it was just another Tuesday. Calm. Controlled. A familiar scowl on his face.

He gave you a look—half amused, half exasperated. “You always bark orders in the middle of a fight, or just when you’re trying to piss me off?”

You raised an eyebrow, dry as ever. “You always take forever to shoot? Thought I’d die of old age waiting.”

He huffed a laugh, wiped a smear of blood from his jaw, and eyed you again—longer this time. “You always this mouthy, sweetheart?”

You tilted your head toward him, eyes narrowed. “And you always this full of yourself, Winchester? Or just when you’re compensating?”

He looked at you — really looked this time — and the grin faltered. Just for a second. Something darker flickered behind those green eyes, something bruised and buried.

Frustration crackled in the air between you. Not just anger. Heat. Dangerous heat.

Dean stepped in closer.

You didn’t back down.

His voice was lower now, gravel pressed into velvet. “You think you know me?”

“I know your type.”

“And what type’s that?”

You didn’t answer. Couldn’t.

Because suddenly you were aware of everything: the way the sweat was clinging to his neck, the cut above his brow, the way his eyes dropped to your lips and stayed there.

You swallowed thickly, heart pounding.

“You should get your ego checked,” you whispered.

He leaned in, breath warm on your cheek. “You should get used to me.”

Then he stepped away like nothing had happened, tossing you a bottle of water from the trunk of the Impala.

You didn’t sleep that night. Not because of nightmares. But because you could still feel the ghost of his voice against your skin.

┉┉┉┉┉┉┉┉┉┉┉

The case was nearly done.

One more demon. One more exorcism. One more body hitting the ground like a sack of meat.

You and Dean were holed up in some off-highway motel just outside of Coffeyville, Kansas — a place with flickering neon, scratchy towels, and a flickering TV playing reruns of Walker, Texas Ranger. The air was thick with humidity and the threat of a coming storm.

Dean was pacing.

You sat at the small, scarred table by the window, a half-empty whiskey bottle between you, your laptop open but forgotten. The rain hadn’t started yet, but thunder rolled low across the sky like a warning. You could feel it crawling over your skin.

“You’re gonna wear a hole in the floor,” you muttered, eyes following him.

He stopped, turning toward you. “You’re gonna drive yourself nuts trying to control everything.”

You snapped your laptop shut. “At least one of us is trying to actually think our way through this. Not just shoot and pray.”

Dean's eyes narrowed. “What the hell is your problem tonight?”

You stood, slow and deliberate. “You. Always you. Acting like this is a game, like you’re invincible. Like none of it matters.”

“It matters,” he said, stepping closer. “Don’t pretend I don’t give a damn.”

“You hide it well.”

“I have to hide it. You don’t get it—”

“Then help me understand!” you shouted, voice cracking on the edge of too much. “Because I’m tired of being the only one trying to—”

He grabbed your arm.

It wasn’t rough. Just firm. Grounding. A heat that traveled through your skin and into your bones.

And then suddenly, neither of you were yelling.

You were just... close.

Breathless. Inches apart.

“You want honesty?” Dean said, voice low, hoarse. “I can’t stop thinking about you. I’ve tried. Ever since that night in the church when you called me out like I was just some dumb, cocky bastard. And maybe I am. But when you look at me like that…”

He trailed off.

You stared at him, heart racing. Your hand came up, curling into the front of his flannel. “Say it.”

He looked you dead in the eye. “I want you. Bad.”

Lightning flashed. The first fat drops of rain began to hit the window.

And then you kissed him.

The kiss hit like a spark to dry tinder—explosive, hot, and all-consuming. Dean didn’t hesitate. His hands slid up your back and into your hair, gripping with the kind of hunger that had clearly been simmering just beneath the surface. Your mouths moved together in a messy clash of teeth and tongue, years of tension unraveling in a single breathless moment.

He walked you back blindly until your thighs hit the edge of the motel bed. You barely registered the creak of the springs beneath you as he eased you down, never breaking the kiss. His weight hovered over yours, the press of his hips against yours making you gasp. You could already feel how hard he was through his jeans, the rough denim grinding just right against the ache between your legs.

“Dean,” you breathed against his mouth, fingers already tugging at the hem of his shirt.

“Yeah,” he rasped, voice wrecked. “I got you.”

He sat up just long enough to yank his flannel and tee over his head in one move, exposing his chest—broad, golden-skinned, scattered with freckles and old scars. You reached for him immediately, palms sliding up over his stomach, feeling the heat of him, the flex of muscle as he leaned back over you.

He caught your wrist and pinned it above your head with a smirk that was pure Dean Winchester—cocky, charming, devastating.

“You sure you’re ready for this?”

“I’ve been ready for months.”

His smirk faltered—something darker moved behind his eyes. Lust, yes, but also something deeper. Reverent. Like he’d been starved for this. For you.

He kissed you again, slower this time, tongue stroking yours with lazy heat as he used his free hand to unbutton your jeans. You wriggled your hips up, letting him peel them down your legs along with your panties. The cool air hit your skin, followed by the heat of his mouth on your inner thigh, his scruff dragging against sensitive flesh.

“God,” you gasped, fingers curling in the motel sheets.

“You’ve got no idea what you do to me,” he said, mouth ghosting over your skin. “No fuckin’ clue.”

Then his mouth was on you—tongue licking a slow, deliberate stripe over your clit, making your hips jerk. He groaned against you, holding your thighs apart with both hands, greedy, hungry, like he needed this to survive.

And damn, he was good. He sucked, licked, teased, never letting up, dragging every sound out of you until you were writhing, hands in his hair, body trembling.

“Dean, I’m—” Your breath hitched. “Fuck, I’m close.”

“Come for me,” he growled, voice muffled between your thighs. “Wanna taste you fall apart.”

It didn’t take much more. Your body tensed, then shattered, orgasm crashing over you like the thunder still rolling outside. Dean didn’t stop until you were gasping, spent, dragging him up by the collar to kiss him hard.

You could taste yourself on his lips.

He shrugged out of his jeans, boxers following quickly, his cock hard and thick between you. You reached down to wrap your hand around him, stroking slow, savoring the weight of him.

“Jesus,” he groaned, jaw clenched. “You keep that up, and this’ll be over too fast.”

“Then shut up and fuck me.”

Dean grinned, wicked and flushed. “Yes, ma’am.”

He reached between you, lined himself up, and pushed in slow. You both gasped—your walls stretching around him, the delicious burn of it sending aftershocks through your still-sensitive core.

“Fuck,” he panted, forehead dropping to yours. “You feel insane.”

You locked your legs around his waist, dragging him deeper. “Move.”

And he did. Slow at first, grinding into you with every thrust, hitting deep, the kind of rhythm that wasn’t about getting off—it was about owning every second of it. You kissed him hard, moaning into his mouth, matching every push with a desperate roll of your hips.

“God, Dean—” Your nails scraped down his back.

He groaned, thrusts growing rougher. “You’re mine now. Say it.”

“Yours,” you gasped, voice breaking. “All yours.”

He kissed you like he believed it. Like he needed it. And when he reached between you, fingers rubbing your clit again, your second orgasm slammed into you, ripping through your spine. Dean cursed, burying himself deep as he came, cock twitching inside you, body shaking above yours.

For a long, breathless moment, there was nothing but the sound of rain on the window and the shared rhythm of your breathing.

He collapsed beside you, arm flung over your stomach, face buried in your neck. “Well,” he muttered. “That was overdue.”

You laughed, weak and blissed-out. “Yeah. No kidding.”

“Hope you’re not too tired,” he murmured against your skin, already kissing along your collarbone. “I’m not done with you yet.”

Neither were you.

┉┉┉┉┉┉┉┉┉┉┉

You woke to warmth.

Not the impersonal heat of motel sheets or the stale air from the broken A/C — him. Dean Winchester, all muscle and sleep-heavy limbs, was wrapped around you like you were the only solid thing in the world.

His chest was bare against your back, arm thrown over your waist, fingers curled just beneath the swell of your breast. You could feel the steady rise and fall of his breath, the soft brush of stubble against your shoulder as he shifted.

He was still asleep.

You turned your head slightly, just enough to see him. His face was peaceful. Unmasked. The lines that always creased his brow were softened now, lips parted slightly, hair tousled in a way that made your chest ache a little.

You thought back to the night before — the heat, the hands, the way he’d looked at you when you came undone beneath him.

And the way you’d held onto him afterward, like you weren’t ready to let go.

Hell. You weren’t.

His arm tightened around you slightly as he stirred. “You awake?” he mumbled, voice deep and scratchy with sleep.

You smiled faintly. “Yeah.”

“Mmm.” He buried his face in the crook of your neck. “Good. Thought I dreamt the whole thing.”

You rolled onto your back, and he propped himself on one elbow to look down at you. His eyes were clearer now, greener than they had any right to be. But there was something in them — raw. Unspoken. Real.

He reached up, brushing a strand of hair from your face. “You okay?”

“Yeah. Are you?”

Dean gave a crooked smile. “Better than I’ve been in a long damn time.”

You traced your fingers along his arm, down to the inked skin of his shoulder. “We gonna talk about it?”

He laughed once — not mocking, but surprised. “You mean the sex, or the part where I’m pretty sure I’d throw myself in front of a demon for you now?”

You blinked.

He looked... terrified.

And that made it real.

“You’re such an idiot,” you whispered, and pulled him into a kiss — slow, deep, and entirely too tender.

┉┉┉┉┉┉┉┉┉┉┉

An hour later, you were in one of Dean’s shirts — soft flannel, smelling like him — sitting cross-legged on the motel bed with a paper cup of gas station coffee. He was shirtless, jeans slung low on his hips, sipping his own with a lazy half-smile as he watched you.

“You really gonna wear my shirt like that?” he asked.

You raised a brow. “Like what?”

“Like you belong in it.”

Your stomach fluttered. “Maybe I do.”

He was quiet a moment. Then: “I don’t do this. Feelings. Staying. Letting people... in.”

“I know.”

“I don’t want this to be a one-time thing.”

You nodded. “It won’t be. If we don’t screw it up.”

Dean set his coffee down. Walked over. Sat beside you on the edge of the bed.

Then, without a word, he pulled you into his lap — arms around your waist, forehead resting against yours.

“I don’t care what’s coming,” he whispered. “You and me? We fight it together.”

The coffee was cold by the time you remembered it.

Dean hadn’t stopped looking at you since you curled up in his lap, his calloused fingers tracing light patterns along your thigh where the hem of his flannel rode up. There was something different now. The urgency was gone — but the hunger? Still there. Deeper. Smoldering.

You shifted in his lap, straddling him fully.

His hands instinctively slid up your sides beneath the shirt, finding bare skin, making you shiver. “You sure?” he asked, voice low, sincere.

“I wouldn’t be here if I wasn’t.”

Dean nodded once. Then he kissed you — slow and deliberate this time, like he had nowhere else to be and all the time in the world to learn every inch of your mouth.

You rocked your hips against his slowly, deliberately. His breath caught.

“Fuck,” he whispered against your lips. “You’re gonna kill me.”

You smiled softly. “Not before I save you.”

He laid you back gently this time. No ripping. No frenzy. Just warmth — his body blanketing yours, his mouth trailing down your neck, over your collarbone, lower. Worshipping.

When he slipped the shirt from your shoulders, he did it slowly, like unwrapping something precious. His eyes raked over your body with reverence, not just lust. “You’re so goddamn beautiful.”

He kissed down your stomach, then back up, hand sliding between your legs with deliberate pressure. “Want you to fall apart for me again,” he murmured, fingers circling your clit, teasing you open.

You moaned, hands gripping the sheets. “Dean…”

He was already pressing into you — two fingers deep, moving slow and steady, his thumb working your sweet spot while he kissed your throat.

Your thighs began to tremble. He leaned in and whispered, “That’s it, sweetheart. Let go for me.”

And you did.

It was slow, and deep — a climax that built like a wave and broke like a whisper, leaving you boneless and breathless beneath him.

Then he was kissing you again, coaxing your legs open, guiding himself to your entrance. This time, when he slid into you, he didn’t rush. He savored it.

You gasped, overwhelmed — at how good he felt, how deeply he filled you, how intimate it was with the morning light spilling over his skin.

Dean pressed his forehead to yours. “Look at me,” he whispered.

You did. And he started to move.

Every slow thrust was like a confession — every groan, a promise.

His hands held your face as he rocked into you, deep and unrelenting but tender. “I don’t know how to do this,” he admitted, voice thick, raw. “But I want to try. With you.”

You wrapped your legs around him, pulling him closer, kissing him through every word.

“I’m right here,” you whispered. “We’ll figure it out.”

Dean’s breath hitched when you said that — like those words undid something in him.

His hips moved in slow, aching rhythm, dragging against every sensitive nerve inside you. Each stroke was deep, deliberate, his body pressed flush to yours like he couldn’t stand the thought of even a breath of space between you.

He kissed you again — messy, open-mouthed, desperate — and you felt it: the weight of everything he didn’t know how to say.

Your fingers curled into his shoulders, nails digging in when he rolled his hips just right. He grunted into your mouth, and you gasped against his, legs tightening around him, grounding him in the heat of you.

“God, you feel so good,” he murmured, voice wrecked. “So fuckin’ tight—taking me so perfectly.”

You moaned, arching into him as his pace began to build — not rough, not hurried, but intentional, like every movement was about making you feel worshipped.

He slid one hand between you, thumb finding your clit again as he thrust deeper. You gasped, thighs trembling.

“Come on,” he whispered, forehead pressed to yours, sweat beading at his temple. “Want you to come with me this time.”

You nodded, breathless. “I’m close.”

Dean kissed you again, harder this time, his hips stuttering just slightly — he was close too. You could feel it in the way his muscles tensed, in the way his breath went ragged, in the way his eyes locked on yours like they were trying to memorize every part of this moment.

“Let go for me, sweetheart,” he whispered again, voice breaking.

Your body obeyed before your mind could catch up — back arching, cry slipping from your lips as you shattered beneath him, everything blurring around the edges. You felt yourself clench tight around him, dragging him over the edge with you.

He groaned your name like a prayer, thrusting once, twice more before he buried himself deep and came with a shuddering breath against your skin. His arms wrapped tight around you, holding you through it like he was scared to let go.

You lay tangled together in the aftermath — breathing hard, skin slick with sweat, hearts racing in sync.

Dean didn’t move. He just stayed there, forehead resting against yours, thumb tracing slow, absent-minded circles on your hip.

“No one’s ever… felt like this,” he said quietly. Like he didn’t even mean to say it out loud.

You smiled softly, brushing damp hair back from his forehead. “Yeah. Me neither.”

A long silence stretched between you. Not awkward — just full.

The kind of silence that meant something real had happened.

And for the first time in what felt like forever, Dean Winchester didn’t look like he was waiting for the world to end.

He just looked like a man who’d finally found something worth surviving for.

#slow burn #sam winchester #jensen ackles #the winchester brothers #jared and jensen #relationship #jared padalecki #supernatural #dean winchester #smut

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night-daily · 2 years ago

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Are friends supposed to kiss on the lips? | Zuko x fem! reader

summary: Sokka's plans are the best.

warnings: none.

Has been two days since Zuko joined the team avatar at the western air temple. The things between you two were tense and the rest of your friends were growing tired of it but Sokka, as the genius he is, came up with a plan.

“Are you sure this will work?” Katara asked his brother. “Well, what's the worst that can happen?”

His plan was simple, Aang will lock the two of you in a room of the temple which can be only opened by him, Katara will tell you that Toph is waiting for you there and Sokka will just drag Zuko, in his mind, you two will become friends or at least will stop barking to each other.

You were training alone in the forest, and controlling the water wasn't hard but you wanna do it perfectly, it has become an obsession. You were tired of being beaten by the fire nation. By Azula.

“If you keep training just your element without moving you'll never improve.” Only hearing his voice made your heart race. “Are you offering to be my target then?” You didn't turn to face him. “More like training with you” The water on your hands fell to the ground. “You don't have to act surprised, like I told you before, I've changed, I'm good now.” He walked closer stopping in front of you. You watched his face, he wasn't lying. “I won't go easy on you.” That was your only response. “I wouldn't expect less.” He smirked blowing fire to you taking you by surprise “Hey! I wasn't ready!” You exclaimed stepping aside to avoid the fire. “The enemy won't give you a warning, you know?” This made you lose your temper, seeing the fire coming out of him remember all the times you have suffered because of it and not only you but your friends and family too. Your fists clenched.

You started turning the water into ice, trying to hurt him it wasn't a training anymore, he sensed your change of mood “Stop!” He thought you would stop but you didn't and you throw him hard on the ground. He hissed in pain and finally, you realized what you have done “Zuko!” You rushed towards him worried. His eyes were closed and he was breathing slowly. You grabbed his face putting his head over your legs. “Please, wake up” You were almost tearing up, this was your fault. “I can’t believe you fall for something so stupid” He was smirking again and opened his eyes just to see you worried. “You're an idiot I thought I hurt you” You push his head out of your legs. He groaned at the sudden movement “Ouch”

You sit away from him on the grass, hugging yourself tighter. You looked so fragile, so broken. Zuko felt his heart ache to see you. “Why are you training so hard?” He was curious because as far as he know you've never liked fighting but what changed? He knows you're in the middle of the war but that never made you be like this, so full of anger.

You didn't dare to look at him. “I'm tired of running away from the fire nation” even your voice sounded broken. For a moment he was confused but then he knew what you meant. Zuko stood up from his place and knee in front of you “look at me” you hesitated and then your eyes were looking at his “When Azula tried to attack you that day, I was afraid, you've been kind to me since the first moment even when you knew it who I was, you made your way through my heart and my mind” your faces were inches apart “I'm always going to come between you and anything that could hurt you, even if it's my sister” and then he leaves you there, alone with your thoughts and your heart beating fast.

what just happened? Did he likes you as you like hi-

“Hey” Katara's voice made you jump on your place “Toph is waiting for you” Toph? Did you forget you were going to do something with Toph? “Let's get going!” Her good humor was contagious so you started walking with her by your side, chatting about your memories together. You were walking for ten minutes until you arrived at the temple, you stopped in front of a room, and you saw Zuko sitting there on a chair, you turned to ask what was going on before Katara push you in there and you heard the door closing behind you. You and Zuko hurried up to the door trying to open it “This door can only be opened by Aang” Sokka explained “And we're not letting you out until you are friends”

Then the room was silent. None of you said or did anything for a few seconds. “Me too” your voice echoed. Zuko looked up to you, confused. “I- I'll always protect you, Zuko” hearing his name coming out of your mouth was like a sweet melody and it was enough to made him blush. He suddenly grabbed you by your wrist and pulls you closer to him. His eyes were looking at your lips making you nervous “ Can I?” He whispered. Instead of responding, you crashed your lips on his, his hands were now on your waist with closed eyes, you two have been waiting too much for this, to be together. Finally, you separated your lips to breathe, but still, you two were closer “Are friends supposed to kiss on the lips?” you asked with an amusing smile. Zuko laughed placing a kiss on your forehead “I hope not”

#atla #atla zuko #atla fanfic #atla fic #prince zuko #zuko #zuko x reader #zuko x fem! reader #zuko x y/n #zuko x you #avatar: the last airbender

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yallthemwitches · 11 months ago

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Simple Math

Remus notices something is off about James and Lily at the Prefect's meeting.Written for Jily Week 2024, Day 1: Hair

Thank you @sunshinemarauder and @kay-elle-cee for hosting the event :) AO3 Link Here

Remus walked his way to McGonagall’s office feeling every footfall as he went. He was already knackered from the full moon earlier that week, but on top of things Sirius and Peter had thrown a bender the night before, importing as much contraband firewhiskey they could supply in order to turn the Gryffindor common room into a disco dance hall.

Their prefect meeting couldn't be helped, if not now transformed into its own mode of punishment as it was McGonagall herself who had to break up the party, padding her way into the common room in her night robes. Even Sirius cowered as she laid eyes on her very own Head Boy and Girl in the middle of the dance floor grinding away like it was some wizarding Studio 54.

Remus lit a cigarette and took a few drags as he approached the second floor. A group of prefects stood idly by the door, talking amongst themselves and looking rather irritated.

“All right?” Remus called to Cornelia, a Hufflepuff prefect who was eyeing the door with frustration.

“The door’s locked—that or it’s been enchanted, I think everyone has given a go at unlocking it.”

Remus pulled out his wand and did a half hearted flourish. Alohomora

Instead of the lock popping open, a sound that resembled a muggle game show buzzer went off.

Remus snuffed out his cigarette.

“D’you know if Lily and James have arrived yet?” He asked.

“I haven’t seen them, but Trevor said he saw them at breakfast. They told him they had to prepare some things before the meeting.”

Uh huh.

Remus sighed deeply.

“Alright then, uh, can everyone just humor me and stand back for a second.” All of the younger prefects who had nervously crowded the door moved without hesitation.

Bombarda. The young prefects instinctively covered their ears and faces, expecting the door to blast open. Instead, the door remained very much intact, instead making the same buzzing noise as before.

Ah christ. The other prefects started to whisper. He heard a fourth year asking someone if they should be worried about a death eater attack. While Remus could admit that that would be certainly worse, he still wasn’t too pleased with what was actually happening.

There was some scuffling noise behind the door and the prefect’s chatter dissipated. The door lurched open and James stood in the doorway.

“Oi, Which one of you is trying to destroy Hogwarts’ property?” he barked out. Behind him, Lily was already leaning on McGonagall's desk.

“I realize that punctuality is key around these circles, but patience is a virtue,” James tutted, opening the door further to let the stream of prefects enter.

Remus gave James a one over. His hair was messy–ok that's a given, but his shirt was looking rather creased. It stuck out of his pants in a clearly haphazard attempt to tuck in. To an untrained eye, this wouldn’t be so suspicious—James was often looking a bit rugged when he came to class.

The real tip off was Lily. Even as the prefects took their seats, she ran her hand through her hair, attempting to smooth the ruffled parts. Her uniform was unbuttoned two buttons lower than her usual fit, and her tie looked off kilter.

It was simple math really, but perhaps because Remus was feeling charitable, he assumed better for the Head Boy and Girl. Afterall, he had first-hand witnessed the two at the party last night, a couple fire whiskeys deep and not shying away from the powdery muggle drug that Sirius was passing through the crowd. (“When I do a themed party, Moony, I do the fuck out of it”)

Remus sat in the front row and watched James join Lily at the front of the classroom. James started off with the newest patrol round schedules, while Lily continued to comb at her hair, catching little knots and picking them apart with her fingers. Her eyes focused on James’ speaking with such intensity, Remus felt like he was witnessing something private. Her mouth parted a bit and Remus took note that her lips were looking more plump and swollen than usual….

They must be bloody fucking joking.

Remus tried to focus instead on James who was garbling his way through the most boring information imaginable. On second inspection, his hair was sticking out much farther than usual—not in the way that resembled getting off his broomstick, but rather like if someone stood over him and tugged furiously upwards. James turned to Lily who had been maintaining her gaze, all the while still attempting to tame her hair. He stumbled a bit on his words; then miraculously forgot what he was saying entirely.

Of all days, they picked the one where he was too hungover to even enjoy their embarrassment.

After the meeting, Remus didn’t even wait for Lily and James. He went straight back to the boys’ dorm and threw himself on his bed. A muffled groan came in the direction of Sirius’ bed.

“What time is it mate?” Sirius sounded completely wrecked.

“Almost noon.”

“Merlin’s tits. That was some party. I feel like death.”

The door opened and James entered and collapsed on his bed, face first, his glasses skewed on his face.

“Fuck yes. Bed,” he spoke into the mattress.

“How was your meeting, darling,” Sirius cooed at James, still appearing comatose from his own bed.

Remus found his in. “Don’t worry, he had a real swell time. Our noble Head Boy and Girl made sure to be perfectly satisfied before their meeting.”

Sirius’ head shot up from the pillow. “Woah Woah, Jamsie….you know better than to shag on the job tsk tsk.”

James propped himself up on his arms. “What were we supposed to do? The whole tower was crawling with people last night. Can’t a loving couple get thie—”

Sirius threw a pillow at James' head, which James was too hungover to dodge. “You looked pretty well taken care of while dancing last night. Half expected you both to just lay right down and go at it in front of everyone.”

James mumbled something sounding like a half-hearted dissent. From the other side of the room Peter’s cracked voice spoke up.

“I heard them in here too…I came up here to sleep and they forgot to close the curtains…”

James made a loud groan.

“I hope you're proud of yourself,” Sirius tutted, mimicking James’ mom’s tone.

There was a silence.

“---Was it really that obvious—at the meeting I mean?”

Remus lit a cigarette and leaned back.

“James, let me put it this way. I know exactly where your hands have been from the look of Lily’s hair alone.”

#Jily Week 2024 #james potter #jily #lily evans #hp #jily fanfiction #marauders #marauders era #jily headcanon #my work #james x lily #lily evans potter #Remus POV

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idaisyy · 4 months ago

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Tag , you’re in - a cmpunk x oc enimies to lovers

Chapter 25

Punk and Daisy pulled away, breathless.

Daisy's wide eyes locked onto his, her lips still parted in shock.

Punk could feel his own chest rising and falling, heart pounding like a war drum.

What the fuck did he just do?

Daisy blinked up at him, looking like she didn't even know how to process what just happened.

Cody was still standing there, stunned and furious, but Punk didn't give a shit.

He turned his attention fully to Daisy, voice low and sharp.

"Go to our dressing room. Now."

Daisy hesitated, still trying to catch her breath, still looking at him like he was something she couldn't quite figure out.

"Now, Daisy."

She swallowed, her throat bobbing, before turning and walking off without another word.

Punk stood there, his entire body still buzzing, but when he saw Cody move, he shot him a look so sharp it could kill.

"Don't fucking touch her again."

And with that, he stormed after Daisy.

By the time he shoved open the dressing room door, she was standing in the middle of the room, arms crossed, clearly waiting for whatever storm was about to come.

And Punk lost it.

"Are you fucking serious right now?" he barked, slamming the door shut behind him. "You really thought you could run back to Cody? After everything?"

Daisy's lips parted like she wanted to say something, but Punk didn't let her.

"You were really gonna go back to the guy who treated you like shit? Who never appreciated you? Who never even made you fucking cum?"

Daisy flinched, her face going red, but Punk was fuming.

"I don't give a fuck how mad you were at me��" he pointed at her, his voice rough with frustration—"but him? That's what you do when you're pissed at me? You let him put his hands on you?!"

Daisy's jaw tightened, her own anger flaring up.

"You don't get to tell me what to do, Punk!" she snapped. "You don't own me!"

"Like hell I don't!" Punk shot back without even thinking, his voice heated and raw.

The second the words left his mouth, both of them froze.

Daisy's breath hitched, her eyes widening slightly.

The silence after Punk's outburst was thick—suffocating.

Daisy's lips parted slightly, like she couldn't believe what he had just said.

And honestly? Neither could he.

But Punk wasn't about to take it back.

Not when she had been out there with Cody fucking Rhodes, letting him touch her, letting him think he still had a chance with her.

His fists clenched, his whole body vibrating with frustration.

"Nobody makes you feel like I do," he growled, voice low and rough. "Nobody."

Daisy's eyes burned with something furious and desperate, but she still lifted her chin, refusing to back down.

"You're out of your fucking mind, Punk," she spat. "You think you can just claim me? You think that just because—" She huffed, shaking her head. "You don't even fucking want me. You just don't want anyone else to have me."

Punk's blood ran hot.

"That's not fucking true," he snapped, stepping closer, his presence overwhelming.

Daisy stepped back, but her back hit the wall, and suddenly, she was trapped.

"I should go to Vince," she said, her voice shaking with emotion. "I should tell him to split us up because this—" she gestured between them, "this is fucking toxic, Punk."

Panic flared in Punk's chest.

She was bluffing. She had to be bluffing.

But fuck, the thought of it—of losing this, losing her—made something inside him snap.

Before she could say another word, Punk grabbed her.

His fingers dug into her hips, and before she could shove him away, his mouth crashed onto hers.

Daisy gasped against his lips, her body stiff for half a second—

And then she melted.

The kiss was wild, messy, desperate.

It wasn't like their first kiss outside with Cody—it wasn't fueled by anger and possessiveness alone.

This was need.

This was fear of losing each other.

Daisy whimpered as Punk deepened the kiss, one hand threading into her hair while the other gripped her waist like he was afraid she would disappear if he let go.

Her hands found his chest, not pushing him away—but pulling him closer.

The kiss turned hotter, their breaths ragged, bodies pressing against each other, heat pooling between them.

Punk groaned, feeling her nails dig into his skin, feeling the way she arched into him, her lips parting for him so easily.

He wanted her.

Fuck, he needed her.

And the way Daisy was clinging to him, kissing him like she was trying to crawl inside him, told him she felt the same way.

They didn't say a word after they pulled away from each other , they simply began packing their bags and heading to the car

It's not like they didn't want to say anything, both had a lot to say they just didn't know how to get it out

Daisy wanted to question what this meant , she knew he didn't kiss and for him to do it TWICE to her , definitely solitifed her belief

As they drove to the hotel she tried to figure out how she wanted to bring it up, she knew already though what his response would be , it would be what it always was unfortunately, as if he didn't just kiss her with every ounce of soul he had in him

As soon as the hotel room door shut behind them, Daisy turned to Punk, still slightly breathless from the heated walk over.

"So... do you wanna talk about that kiss?" she asked, crossing her arms, trying to steady herself.

Punk, still standing near the door, exhaled sharply, rubbing a hand over his face like he was already regretting everything.

"Nope," he said flatly, heading toward his bag like nothing had happened.

Daisy scoffed. Of course.

"Seriously?" she pressed, stepping closer. "You kissed me, Punk. Twice. The second time wasn't some bullshit stunt to piss off Cody. It wasn't just possessiveness. It—" She hesitated, searching his face. "It meant something."

Punk turned back to her, jaw tightening.

"You don't know what the fuck you're talking about," he muttered.

Daisy rolled her eyes. "Oh, come on. Are you really gonna sit there and act like—"

"Daisy, drop it." His voice was sharp, warning.

She didn't. She couldn't.

"Why?" she challenged, stepping closer, refusing to let him shut down. "Because it makes you feel something?"

Punk's gaze snapped to hers, his nostrils flaring, and for a second, she saw it—that flicker of something real.

But just as quickly as it appeared, he shut it down.

"It was a mistake," he muttered.

Daisy's stomach dropped.

"A mistake?" she repeated, voice quieter now.

Punk turned away, running a hand through his hair. "Forget it happened."

Daisy swallowed the lump in her throat, a bitter laugh escaping her lips.

"You're such a fucking coward."

That made him stop.

Made him turn back to her, eyes dark and unreadable.

Daisy shook her head, hurt creeping into her voice. "You act like you don't care. Like none of this means anything to you. But it does, and you fucking know it."

Punk said nothing, just clenched his jaw and looked away.

Daisy exhaled sharply, shoving past him toward the bed, flopping down onto it with an exhausted sigh.

"Fine," she muttered. "If you wanna keep lying to yourself, go ahead. But I know the truth, Punk. And deep down, so do you."

Silence filled the room.

Punk didn't respond.

Didn't argue.

Didn't tell her she was wrong.

Because he couldn't.

#cm punk #cm punk smut #enimies to lovers #slow burn #wwe imagine #wwe raw #wwe smackdown #wwe smut #seth rollins smut #wwe gifs #cm punk imagine #wweedit

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thevoidstaredback · 5 months ago

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Part 1

When he woke up, the only thing he could feel was pain. He wondered for a moment about what was happening, but threw that thought aside when he registered that he was hanging upside down. And like that, he knew exactly where he was.

“Forget it!” yelled the voice of his childhood nightmares, “Get me my sword!”

“But, sir! He’s-he’s a kid!”

“Get me my damn sword!”

Luffy didn’t remember blacking out, but he must’ve if this was when he’d ended up. Either that or he had actually died for a minute when he was a kid. Huh. Don’t tell Chopper.

He’d grown used to blood and injuries and everything accompanying them a while ago out of necessity. The threat of death was a looming presence since his childhood, but he’d never feared it. There was nothing to fear, he thought, and it was pointless to fear an eventuality. Being trapped, however, was one of the things he hated the most. Being tied up, helpless and at the mercy of his captors, was something he’d not experienced since he was seven. And now, he was right back where he started.

And, exactly as he remembered, the wall directly behind him shattered inwards, throwing splinters everywhere. He couldn’t stop his smile as his brothers - both so small, but bigger than him, and not yet his - came to his rescue.

Sabo made quick work of the rope that was hanging him from the ceiling, catching him just before he hit the ground. Ace stood with his back to them, keeping them as blocked from view as his four-foot-tall body could manage. Luffy cried at the sight of his brothers, fully planning on shifting the blame to his injuries.

“Damnit, Ace, c’mon! Let’s go!” Sabo yelled.

Ace didn’t so much as twitch, not allowing any of his enemies out of his sight. “I never run from a fight.”

Sabo scowled, “Ace!” His eyes shifted between Ace and Luffy a few times before he let Luffy fall to the floor so that he could stand up. “You stay here!”

The two ten-year-olds made quick work of the washed up pirates, leaving them all unconscious and sporting more than a few broken bones between them.

Luffy hadn’t realised the full extent of his grief until just then. His brothers, both dead in his own time, were here. He was with them again. They were both alive!

And they were both scolding him in the middle of the forest while he cried.

“That’s a nasty habit you’ve got, Ace,” Sabo said as he finished wrapping some stolen bandages around Luffy’s head.

Ace ignored him, weighing his pipe - repaired with some tape from the Grey Terminal - in his hands, “It just doesn’t feel right.”

Just like last time, Luffy couldn’t stop his tears, despite his best efforts. He just couldn’t help it! Ace had died in his arms four years ago now, and Sabo had been killed feet away from him a year ago! The two of them being here was as overwhelming as it was gratifying. He will save them both this time, come Hell or high waters.

“Quit cryin’!” Ace yelled as he jumped off the boulder he’d been sitting on, “I hate cry babies.”

Sniffling, Luffy managed to slow his tears, but he couldn’t completely stop them. “I’m not a crybaby.”

Sabo barked a short disbelieving laugh while Ace said, “Yes, you are!”

“Yeah?” Luffy challenged, falling easily into the rhythm of arguing with his brother, “You ever been punched with a spiked glove?!”

The two older boys flinched back. “He’s just being thankful,” Sabo said to his friend, “Give him a break.”

Ace just scoffed and turned away. “Why didn’t you tell them where we hid the money? It woulda save ya a lot of trouble.”

“I thought that if I told them, you wouldn’t wanna be my friend,” his voice cracked. Ace had been in his life for so long… He’d do everything he could to keep him in it this time. Even if that did mean repeating the same adventures.

A look of surprise flashed across Ace’s face. “Why would you wanna be my friend anyway? I gave you such a hard time. Why follow me?”

He was almost hesitant as he said, “Because there’s no one else.” He didn’t meet their eyes. “I can’t go back to Foosha Village, and I hate mountain bandits! If I didn’t follow you, then I woulda been all alone.” He looked up, directly into the boys’ eyes as he finished, “And being alone hurts worse than being hurt!”

Ace folded his arms over his chest. “What about your parents?”

“Gramps is all I have.”

“It’s easier for you when I’m around?”

“Yeah.”

“Is it hard without me?”

“Yeah.”

A beat. “Do you want me to live?”

Luffy took full offence to the doubt he could hear in Ace’s voice. With every last bit of conviction that he could manage, he looked into the older boy’s eyes and stated, “Of course I do!” He dared either of them to challenge his resolve.

“Okay,” Ace breathed, turning away, “But I don’t like spoiled brats like you.”

Luffy denied the accusation, butting heads with Ace. He was so lost in the useless, familiar, argument that he could almost forget he’d held this very same boy - man - as he died. He could almost forget that he wasn’t actually seven.

“This is great and all,” Sabo interrupted, “But I’ve got a real problem here.” When Luffy and Ace turned to look at him, he continued, “Where am I supposed to live? Bluejam’s gonna have goons crawling all over Middle Forest and Gray Terminal looking for us. What if I get attacked in my sleep?”

The three stood in thought for a few minutes before Luffy suggested that Sabo come live with him and Ace. They shared a grin before racing towards the run-down hut.

It was easy to sneak Sabo into their room. And, when Ace and Sabo had fallen asleep, he checked the ribbon of his hat. When he couldn’t find the little piece of paper he’d been expecting to feel, he panicked a bit, shooting to sit up and searching frantically. Just as the doom of Plan B started to set in, he found a little piece of paper, two strings of numbers written on it. Quickly, he folded it back up and hid it under the seam he’d found it in. Then, he fell asleep, he not-yet brothers on either side of him.

***

It was surreal to wake up between his brothers again. He laid awake for an hour, just relishing in the feeling of being with them again. Then, the door opened and he slammed his eyes shut.

Dadan stopped in the doorway, blocking most of the light from coming into the room. “One, two, three,” she counted, “Huh?” This happened several more times and Luffy found himself struggling to not giggle. “Ace, Luffy,” she listed, “Huh?” Finally seeming to register the extra boy in the room, she screeched, “Ace! Luffy! Who is this?!”

Luffy sat up first, playing up the groggy feeling of just waking up. “Huh? Who’s who?” Then, he fell back to pretend to sleep again.

Next was Ace. “You’re too loud!” He groaned, turning over.

Sabo sat up and yawned. After a moment, he stood up completely, kicking Luffy and Ace in the process. “I’m Sabo!” he greeted.

“‘Sabo’, huh?” Dadan raised an eyebrow, “You’re the brat Ace talked about.”

“Ace talked about me?”

“He told me you’re a pain in the ass.”

A giggle. “He told me that you’re an old hag!” There was a bright smile on his face as he spoke. “A real man among men!”

“I’m a woman!”

“Oh, yeah?” He asked. “Well, you knowing about me makes this easier.” He grabbed her hand to shake it before she could so much as blink. “Thank you for taking care of me from today on!”

She ripped her hand back. “Who said you could stay here?!”

Instead of answering her verbally, Sabo farted. Luffy giggled.

“Don’t answer with a fart!”

Ignoring her shouts, the three ran from the building and into the forest. They could tell that it was going to be a great day.

Before they got too far past the treeline, Sabo turned back and yelled, “Oh, yeah! Dadan! We got a bit mixed up with Bluejam’s crew, so they might come ‘round here!”

***

It was a good few days for Luffy. Spending time with his not-yet brothers had all but pushed the last two years out of his focus for the time being. And, before he knew it, the end of the first week in the past had crept up, and with it came a visit from Makino and Mayor Woop Slap. He was so happy, in fact, that he forgot about his grandfather’s inclination for surprise visits.

“What did I tell you about spouting that pirate nonsense?” Ace and Luffy froze when they heard the voice behind them. “I told you two that you’re going to be great Marines!”

Luffy thought it was absolutely unfair that Gramps was using haki to hit him!

Garp turned his attention to Sabo. “Did you say something about being a pirate, too, squirt?”

Before Sabo could deny it, Luffy bounced up from the floor and shouted, “He’s not a squirt! He’s Sabo! And we agreed that we’re gonna set sail and become pirates!”

There was a dangerous look in Garps eye. “Oh?” Then, he hit Sabo in the head, oot. “I’m not gonna let any of you become pirates!”

As fast as they could, Ace, Sabo, and Luffy booked it from the bandit hut, their grandfather hot on their trail.

After an hour, the three boys finally lost Garp. They collapsed onto each other under the roots of a tall tree, cold but comfortable. Luffy hadn’t felt this warm in a while.

***

Waking up with two other people for the second morning in a row was an…experience. For his whole life, Sabo had only ever slept and woke up alone. He found that, strangely, he didn't mind waking up with other people, so long as those other people were these two.

The cave they'd slept in was bright and warm and comfortable and smelled like rain. He loved it.

He didn't know how long it would take for Ace and the kid to wake up, so Sabo crawled out from the roof cove they'd holes up in for the night and took a moment to figure out where in the jungle they'd ended up in.

The clearing the root cave was facing was fairly small, though it was big enough to safely have a large fire in the middle, and was surrounded on all sides by small - though they were huge compared to pretty much everywhere else in the East Blue - trees. The smell of sea water was stronger than up with the bandits, so they were likely by the shore or a cliff, though not close enough for it to actually matter.

The tree they’d slept under was huge. At least twice the size of the others around it.

Sabo grinned, an idea coming to mind. So, he grabbed a piece of bark that had been torn off a tree at some point, a twig big enough to work as a pen, and sat down next to some mud.

Ace and Luffy woke up at nearly the same time about an hour after Sabo had. Crawling out from under the roots together, they were quick to spot and join the blond boy.

“What’s that?” Luffy asked.

“Our secret base!” Sabo presented proudly, turning the bark around to show off his crude mud blueprints.

Ace matched his grin, though his was slightly more manic. “Well, what are we waiting for? This thing ain’t gonna build itself!”

It took a little over a week of near non-stop building for their treehouse to be constructed. The only breaks they took were to hunt and eat, sleep, and search for good building materials in the Gray Terminal and Middle Forest.

The treehouse wrapped halfway around the trunk of the tree, leaving about a foot of space between the planks and the trunk (It was very hard to pull off, but Sabo said that they’d choke the tree if they built it any closer). They hung a rope ladder out of a trapdoor in the floor, long enough that it touched the forest floor. There was another ladder carved directly into the tree that led to a crow’s nest that peaked out of the canopy the house was hidden in. And at the very top was a black flag with the painted letters ASL flying in the wind.

This was their home, their forest, their island. Nothing was taking that away now that their flag was protecting it.

“It’s beautiful,” Sabo said, leaning against the railing of the crow’s nest and staring out at the ocean.

“Yeah,” Luffy agreed. He missed the ocean.

“Luffy!” Ace called, startling him, “Man the sails!”

Luffy grinned, pushing down the part of him that wanted to scold his brother because I’m the captain. “Aye!”

Ace turned to Sabo, “Sabo, take our, um, heading!”

“Right!”

Playing together was probably nothing like sailing for real, but it was good practice for when they actually set sail.

“I want this to last forever,” Luffy said. Ace wasn’t contemplating his existence, Sabo wasn’t looking over his shoulder for shadows that were slowly creeping up, and Luffy was thrown back to when his brothers were still alive and everything was perfect.

“It won’t be able to,” Sabo said, “We’re all gonna set out and be pirates, right? If we do, then we won’t be able to play like this.”

Luffy sighed, turning over to let himself fall asleep, “I know. But that doesn’t mean I can’t hope.”

The two ten-year-olds shared a look over the sleeping seven-year-old before they covered him with a blanket and scrambled up to the crow’s nest.

“There’s something up with him,” Ace whispered, “But what?”

Sabo ruffled his hair in frustration, his hat down with Luffy’s, “I don’t know.”

“He looks so…lonely when he thinks we’re not looking.” Ace grumbled, “Why does he look like that?”

Sabo hummed, “He said hat Gramps is all he has,”

“But that’s not true! He’s got Makino and whoever that Shanks guy is.”

“Yeah. He’s definitely hiding something.”

“But what is it?”

A beat. “I saw him take a piece of paper out of his hat one time.”

“What?”

“It had numbers on it.”

“So?”

“So, it might be a den-den number!”

“What’s a den-den?”

“Uh… Doesn’t matter-”

“Is it that dead snail thing we found a while back?”

“Yes-”

“There are more of those things?!”

“Yes! Now would you shut up and listen?” Sabo waited a moment before huffing. “If that is a den-den number, then there’s probably someone who has the connecting line. That means he has someone other than Gramps. Someone who isn’t here but is clearly waiting for him.”

Ace’s expression went blank. Luffy lied to them? Why would he lie about not having anyone? To be their friend? Pathetic. He climbed down to the main base, ready to kick Luffy awake and give him a piece of his mind, but he stopped himself short.

“Ace!” Sabo hissed, fully prepared to have to drag Ace off of Luffy. He stopped beside Ace, looking to see what had stopped him. “What- Why’s he crying?”

“I don’t know.”

“He was so happy earlier. Why’s he crying?”

“I don’t know, Sabo.”

Part 3

#Survivor's Guilt.#Part 2 #2.6k words #one piece fic #time travel fix-it #Hand-Wavy Logic #Monkey D. Luffy #one piece sabo #portgas d ace #curly dadan #monkey d garp

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daydreamgoddess14 · 9 months ago

Text

The Ties that Bind - Chapter 6

And what if I maybe decided that this isn't actually the last chapter?

Don't ask how my work week is going, I stupidly wrote this instead of the draft report I need to submit on Friday.... Incidentally, the report has a shorter wordcount than this chapter so technically, technically all I need is some actual ooomph to go ahead and write it!

CH 1 | CH 2 | CH 3 | CH 4 | CH 5

Masterlist

Tagging: @cillmequick & @thomasshelbyswife

Chapter 6

Weeks had passed since Seren had left. She made her way around the aisle of the supermarket with her new charge, not too fast and not too slow. Heaven forbid she get the speed wrong.

“That jam there, on the middle shelf.” The elderly woman in the wheelchair said suddenly, pointing vaguely at approximately 80 jars of jam variations.

“This one?”

“No, down.”

“This?”

“No left a bit, the one that looks like cherries.”

“Cherry jam then?”

“No, the one next to it.” Seren resisted the urge to smash every jar on the floor. She held up another jar. “That’s the ticket, love. Now, eggs.”

“You don’t like eggs?” “I want you to make a cake. Coffee and walnut.” Seren hesitated, her last coffee and walnut cake had been demolished in the space of about four hours by David and River.

“How about a vicky sponge instead?” She suggested, scanning the shelves.

“Too sweet. Next to the eggs, there, the walnuts.”

“Coffee and walnut, my favourite.” Another voice chimed in.

“Mine too! She’s refusing to make it though.”

“I’m not refusing, I just-” Seren turned back to the lady, eggs and walnuts in hand. Alongside her stood River.

“Fine Mags, I’ll make coffee and walnut.” She dumped the stuff in the basket on Maggie’s lap. “Excuse me.” She said politely to River and went to push the wheelchair on. “Seren, wait, please?”

“Who’s this young man?”

“River, nice to meet you.” He shook her hand, Maggie blushed.

“Seren, you told me you were single!”

“I am.”

“I think I’d remember if you’d told me about this fella. He’s very handsome,” she turned to River, “you’re very handsome.”

“That’s because I haven’t told you about him. There’s nothing to tell. This is an old… acquaintance, that’s all.” Maggie’s bark of laughter turned into a hacking cough.

“Old acquaintance. Do I look bloody daft?”

“Come on, we’ve got to get a move on. Senior swim time.” Seren turned the wheelchair away from River and started at speed down the rest of the aisle.

“Bet he’d love to see you in a cossie.”

“Margaret Monroe!”

“I’m only saying, love. If you’ve got it, flaunt it.” As they rounded the next aisle, Maggie turned in her chair to Seren, “he’s still there.” She whispered loudly enough to be heard by the entirety of the store. “Corrr and he’s looking at you like you hung the moon.”

“Give it a rest, Mags.” Seren could feel the heat in her cheeks.

“It’s rude to ignore people.” The older woman said sternly.

“It’s a long story. We’ve got to go otherwise you’ll miss swimming.” Maggie raised her hand and waved to River who caught them up easily with no wheelchair to manoeuvre around.

“How do you know the lovely Seren then?”

“She looked after my grandfather.”

“Oh!” She said brightly, then her face fell a little, “did he die? I’m so sorry.”

“No, no. He’s… fine. He’s his usual self.” River confirmed, noting the relief that crossed Seren’s face.

“Why’d she leave then? Why’d you leave?” Maggie looked back and forth between them.

“I told you, it’s a long story. Do you want to go swimming or not?” Maggie huffed.

“It was nice to meet you, love. We’re off to the leisure centre for a swim. She keeps telling me it’s good for me.”

“Sounds fun. It was nice to meet you Maggie, see you again.”

“No you won’t.” Seren interrupted.

“Can I call you?” He asked quickly, before the opportunity to ask had disappeared.

“No, please don’t.”

“You should! God knows this girl needs to smile more. Either that or she needs a proper good-”

“I smile loads.” Seren scowled, interrupting quickly to stop Maggie from saying something less appropriate. Maggie rolled her eyes. As she went to push the wheelchair through the checkout, River dropped Seren’s favourite chocolate bar into the basket.

“For after swimming.” He shrugged. “It’s really good to see you. Still wearing my hoodie though?” He smiled faintly. Seren nodded at the unexpected gesture and to her surprise, River was the one to walk away. As Seren watched him leave, Maggie chattered away next to her.

“Well you kept him quiet, what a lovely man Seren! Bet he’d show you a good time,” the older lady sniggered.

“Stop interfering, you old perv.” Seren teased her gently. “I’m going to stop getting you those smutty books from the library.” She threatened.

“Don’t you dare. I deserve to get my thrills from somewhere young lady.” Seren let her talk, her mind drifting to River. He’d done exactly as she’d asked and not contacted her in weeks. A week after the confrontation in the barn, she received a small box with her book, phone charger, chocolate and various other things she’d left behind at David’s house. It had been hand delivered to her house, she hadn’t sent a thank you message. As the weeks had gone on, she found her anger giving way to sadness. She still felt foolish for having trusted both River and David so completely, she began to feel more betrayed than angry. She’d fended off nosey questions from Maggie when she’d first started looking after her, her bruises still visible and her hand still tightly wrapped. She was so easily distracted by a tall flash of dirty blonde hair in the corner of her eye and now, with the unexpected meeting in the supermarket, she found herself wondering if she’d been right all along and he had really been there, she hadn’t imagined it or wished for it. With Maggie safely back at home, Seren poured herself a glass of wine and tried to settle with a book. A light tap at the door stirred her. River.

“I told you not to come here.” “You told me not to call.” She rolled her eyes, holding the door so it was clear he wasn’t going to be welcomed inside.

“I told you I didn’t want to see you again.”

“I know.”

“So? Why are you here?” She looked at him properly for the first time. Stubble longer than normal, a mournful look in his eyes and dark circles underneath. She knew she didn’t look much better, Maggie told her daily how sad her eyes were. Her resolution to not let him in was wavering. With a sigh, she pulled open the door fully. “Come in. 5 minutes, that’s all you get.” He slipped past her gratefully and she could smell the soap and aftershave he used, scents that had long deserted the hoodie she continued to wear.

“I wanted to apologise. Properly, I mean. I didn’t get a chance really that night, or when you came back to get your car. It was… fucked up. You should never have been caught up in it all.”

“You should have told me the truth.”

“How could I?” He asked, desperately. “I had to keep you safe.”

“Safe?” She scoffed, closing the space between them and moving the neckline of her top to one side, “I still have the bruises!” Barely visible to the naked eye, River could see the faint marks which still littered her neck. Without thinking, he brought his hand up and traced the outline with his finger. He could make out her pulse, her heart pounded, and the movement of her nervous swallow. She took a step back, shaking her head, “don’t touch me.” She pleaded. His hand and his gaze dropped down to her hand where she still had a bandage.

“Still not healed?” He asked, his voice hoarse. He lifted it gently, holding it in both of his hands.

“They had to align the fracture. Two more weeks and I can take this off.” She felt a warm tear drop onto the exposed skin on the palm of her hand and looked up at him.

“You got hurt because of me-” he started.

“I got hurt because I stupidly thought I could punch a grown man. I was an idiot, trying to protect David - who apparently can handle himself just fine.”

“No, you were incredible. If you hadn’t been there… I wouldn’t have been there in time. They’d have done it, they’d have killed him.” She knew she should take another step back but the warmth of his body was intoxicating and she was struggling to hold onto her anger. He released her hand and wiped his eyes.

“How is he?”

“Pain in the arse. Hates everyone they send to look after him. He misses you.”

“Don’t do that. Don’t make me the guilty one.”

“I didn’t mean to, sorry. It’s just… he was better with you, I think.”

“He went through a crazy evening, finding out your old workplace wants you dead is a bit mental.”

“I was better with you.”

“River-”

“I know, I know, I’m sorry again.”

“Stop apologising, you’re doing my head in. You look like crap.” She muttered, wrapping her arms around him.

“Yeah, so grandad keeps telling me.” He let his head drop into the crook of her neck and breathed her in.

“It’s just a hug, that’s all you get then you can fuck off.” She felt him nod against her and the soft huff of his breath on her skin. The proximity and familiarity made her heart flutter. She reluctantly released the hug, for her own sanity. He watched her intently, the conflict in her eyes clearly visible. He brought his hands up to cup her face and she leaned into his touch, a trembling sigh passing her lips as he met her in a soft, uncertain kiss. She pulled away first, placing a hand on his chest to push herself back. “No. No, I’m still so angry, River.” She paced back and forth in front of him. “I feel like such an idiot for trusting you so implicitly.” She told him, the accusatory tone to her voice gave away the anger rising in her again. She backed further away from him. “You should go now. I asked you not to come.” She marched past him and flung the door open wide. “Go now please, I can’t… I need to stop thinking about you, and the only way I can do that is to not be near you.” She trailed off weakly. He paused as he passed her.

“I can’t stop thinking about you either.” He admitted cautiously. Seren reached for him first, her traitorous body overruling her mind and all sense of reason. She caught the edge of his jacket and pulled him down into a far less hesitant kiss than the previous one. He kicked the front door shut again and pressed her back against the wall. She led him down the short hallway, dropping his jacket and her (his) hoodie along the way. River pulled off the oversized t-shirt she wore, surprised to find nothing underneath and enveloped her in his arms. He walked her backwards through her open bedroom door, both of them tripping on her discarded shorts, his t-shirt. She pulled him with her onto the bed, hissing in pain as she realised she'd used the wrong hand. He slotted between her open thighs and turned her hand gently, kissing the slither of exposed skin between the thumb and index finger. Seren wanted to hold onto the anger she felt was justified, but she couldn't deny how much she wanted him. He stopped suddenly and she held her breath, waiting. She felt a kiss at the base of her throat and then at each ghost of a fingertip bruise on her neck, faint, but he found them all. She choked back a sob.

“I hate that I need you so badly.” Her whisper turned into a low moan as his long fingers teased a path through the thin layer of her underwear, already soaked with her need for him. She bucked against his hand, holding it in place tightly with her good hand.

“Show me, Seren,” he demanded quietly, “show me what you need.” He slid the underwear down her legs. She covered his hand with her own and guided it to where she wanted him most. River thrust his fingers into her torturously slowly, building her orgasm from so deeply inside she could hardly breathe. "I've got you," he murmured through kisses, "I've got you." His thumb brushed against her clit and she rocked into him. She grasped at his shoulders as she got closer and closer to the edge. "I want this… want you, always." He kissed her hard as she came, swallowing her moans as she clenched around his fingers, his name on her lips. He worked her through the orgasm, watching her with a mix of pride and lust as she fell boneless into the mattress.

“I’m not sure this is an appropriate way to earn forgiveness, River.” She whispered, a giggle bubbling in her chest for the first time in weeks.

“Thought I was never going to see you smile again,” he half joked.

“‘M not smiling.”

“Yeah you are.”

“It’s the endorphins. Totally out of my control.” She sat up to look at him, covering herself with her arm. “How do you still have clothes on?” She gestured to his jeans.

“I was more bothered about getting yours off,” he admitted.

“Some things never change.”

“I’ve missed you so much, Seren.” His head dropped to his chest with a heavy sigh, the tension between them finally cracking. She moved her hand from where it covered her chest and brought it to cup his face, her fingertips running over the stubble. “Everytime I sleep, I see Duffy pointing that fucking gun at you.” He said hoarsely, laying bare his helplessness. Seren closed her eyes, trying to blink away the tears.

“Oh, love.” She sighed. Removing her hand from his face, she got off the bed and pulled on the closest item of clothing, his t-shirt. Then she set about closing the bedroom curtains and switching off the light in the hallway. He watched her from the edge of the bed until she stood directly in front of him. “C’mon, clothes off, we’re going to bed.” She nudged him. “I’ll be back in a sec.” She disappeared to what he assumed was the bathroom and came out a few minutes later in a t-shirt of her own. She put the one she’d taken off with the jeans he’d left by the bed and pulled back the covers of the bed. She folded her body around him, tucking her knees behind his and pressing her chest to his back. He could feel her warm breath on the back of his neck and her hand curled around onto his chest and for the first time in weeks they both fell asleep straight away. Seren woke on and off through the night to soft caresses and kisses until they succumbed to sleep again. In the early hours, fuelled by a restful night, she felt River curl around her, pressing hard into the soft flesh of her thighs. She rolled onto her back and pulled him to cover her body, pressing her heels into the back of his thighs to guide him into her. It was still so dark in her room that she could hardly see him. She let her hands guide her, trailing up his arms, over his broad back, down to squeeze his thigh, back up and into his hair. He matched with each roll of her hips, slowly and languidly. The darkness made everything quieter, his whispered affirmations, praise and moans were dizzying. Seren clung to him like she never wanted to let go, holding him to her as they both came. When she woke again, she was alone. If it hadn’t been for the ache between her thighs, it could have easily been a dream.

River clattered up the stairs to Lamb’s office with more energy than he’d had in weeks, though his face did not share the same spirit.

“Blimey, you’re positively sprightly this morning. What’s wrong with your face?”

“It’s just my face. Ewelina has walked out on the old bastard.”

“Was she the Polish girl?”

“Yep, he insulted her cooking.”

“How many is that now?”

“He’s gone through eight, I think? He didn’t like Glenys-”

“No one fucking liked Glenys.”

“Or Debbie, Sarah, Pete-”

“What was wrong with Pete?” Lamb asked, incredulous.

“He couldn’t play chess. Shame, he left some decent IPA behind.”

“Is there anyone left?”

“Dunno, guess we’ll have to ask Taverner.” Lamb laughed,

“No, no Cartwright, you will have to ask Lady Di. Not me.”

“Go on Lamb, please? She’ll kill me.”

“While I would pay to see that, I’ll settle for watching you make the call.” He sniggered. With a heavy sigh, River took the outstretched phone.

“Umm, hi? It’s Cartwright? River Cartwright?” Lamb couldn’t hear the other side of the conversation to his disappointment. “Yep, another one. No, he just says they’re all shit. Great, thanks.” He hung up and passed back the phone.

“Sending someone else?”

“So she says.”

“Y’know Cartwright, I’m quite enjoying the inconvenience all of this is causing for Lady Di. I feel like it’s a bit of vindication for us.” Lamb said decidedly.

The cause of the inconvenience tutted into his coffee, his mind wasn’t playing ball and the crossword was giving him more trouble than he deemed necessary. Outside, he heard a car far larger than River’s arrive, accompanied by a neat knock on his back door.

“David. Seems I have a reason to be here again?”

“Diana, to what do I owe this pleasure?”

“Well the pleasure is certainly not mine, I assure you.”

“Coffee?”

“Hmm,” Diana Taverner looked around David’s kitchen while he pottered around making her a cup of coffee. “You’ve declined another approved carer?” “They weren’t suitable.”

“None of them?” She scoffed. “I do find that hard to believe. You’re becoming a nuisance, David. I’m starting to regret not letting Duffy shoot you.”

“You don’t mean that,” he smiled.

“I actually do. I want this resolved, I want this off my desk, and the next time I hear your name, I want it to be when I find out that you died peacefully in your bed. Do I make myself clear?”

“Perfectly.”

“So what is it you want?” David hesitated.

“I want Seren back.”

“The girl from the barn?” He nodded.

“I got on with her, she understood me. We had an agreement.” Taverner frowned.

“Cartwright, you know she’s not service approved. Our agreement was that you would have someone who was service approved.”

“So employ her? It’s not that difficult, surely?” She drank her coffee in silence.

“Will it shut you up?”

“There’s a good chance of that, yes.” He held up a finger, “but I don’t want River to know, not until it’s done.”

“That’s making the very big assumption that I’m going to do this for you?”

“You want it off your desk. That’s how it goes.”

“I don’t like being held over a barrel like this.”

“Should have shot me when you had the chance then.” Taverner laughed,

“Yes, well - touché. Very well. You won’t hear from me again.” She left her half drunk coffee on the table and David went back to his crossword.

Seren hadn’t heard from River at all. She sat with Maggie side by side in a brightly lit corridor, like naughty schoolgirls waiting to go to the office.

“I don’t like this.” Maggie grumbled.

“I know, but Daniel and Penny think it’s the right thing for you.”

“We’re coping perfectly fine, aren’t we?”

“Of course we are, but you’ll have a lot more friends here?” She held out a leaflet, “look, they go to senior swim as well? And trips to the cinema and Kew Gardens - you love Kew Gardens.” Maggie huffed.

“I like living in my own bloody house.” Seren didn’t respond. Maggie hadn’t taken the news of moving to a care home well at all. Her daughter and son-in-law were in the office finalising the details of her new ensuite room. “Will you visit me?”

“Of course I will, Mags. Try and stop me.” Seren took Maggie’s hand and kissed the back of it.

“You’re a good girl, Seren. What will you do?” She shrugged.

“No idea. Maybe a holiday? It’s been a weird year so far.”

“Somewhere sunny. Get that swimming cossie out again.”

“I’m starting to think you’ve got a thing about my cossie, Mags.”

“Maybe in my younger days darling. Don’t tell Penny.” Seren smiled.

“Your secret is safe with me.”

“Mum? Shall we take you to see your room?” Penny emerged from the office.

“I’ll go and have a look at the garden,” Seren told them and then dropped down to talk to Maggie, “be nice!” She warned her. She wandered around the extensive garden of the very exclusive - and expensive - care home. She wondered whether David had gotten the fence painted before the weather had turned, whether the plants they’d chosen were thriving. Her phone rang in her pocket and she pulled it out, the screen still cracked. She really needed to get that fixed. “Seren Harrison?”

“Ms Harrison, I have a call for you from Diana Taverner at Thames House. Can I connect you?”

“Uhh-” Seren’s response was a very undignified stutter and the call was connected before she could accept - or refuse - it. “Hello?”

“Ahh, hello. We weren’t introduced previously. I’m Diana Taverner, I hope you don’t mind my calling?” Seren stumbled over her words and formed some sort of non-committing answer. “Good. I was with David Cartwright a couple of weeks ago, has he been in touch?”

“No, why, what’s happened to him?”

“Nothing at all, more's the pity. He’s been getting through designated home assistance at quite a rate,” Seren couldn’t help but smile at the comment. “It’s becoming very frustrating. Apparently, he will only have you helping him.”

“Me?”

“You got along, did you not?” Seren recalled numerous plates and mugs she replaced but the memory was quickly overruled by ones of doing the crossword, drinking tea in the garden and learning how to play chess.

“We did,” she said softly.

“It seems the ties that bind you both mean a great deal to him. He would like me to make you an offer of employment.” Seren held her breath. “If that is acceptable to you?” Seren could almost hear David’s voice in her ear ‘don’t give in easily, make them work for it’.

“Well, I’d need to know the terms of the contract, of course.” She stammered. Taverner sighed.

“Yes, yes. I’ll have someone send it over to you by courier. They will wait for an immediate return or dismissal though?”

“I’m sure that’ll be fine.”

“I certainly hope so. I do not want to have to deal with this any longer. I must go, I have a meeting with the Prime Minister shortly. I trust the contract will meet your approval, it’s likely you won’t hear from me again so you have both my admiration and commiserations for managing the Cartwright’s. You deserve a bloody damehood.” Seren nearly laughed at Taverner’s exasperated sigh.

“They’re definitely hard work.” She agreed.

“Indeed. Goodbye Ms Harrison, and thank you.” The call rang off before Seren could respond and from the conservatory, Maggie called and waved to her.

She parked in her usual spot. The revolving door of carers hadn’t bothered with the weeds on the driveway, she noted. She knocked and waited patiently, her hand had barely moved from the woodwork when the door flung open.

“Can I help you?” He asked impatiently. Seren sighed.

“Mr Cartwright, it’s Seren. I umm, well you see -” she tried to think of the best way to explain, the best way to re-introduce herself when she saw the corner of David’s mouth pulling into a smile. “You old git!” She scolded him with a grin.

“Couldn’t help myself my dear.” He beamed. “May I?” He held out his arms and she hugged him warmly. “It’s good to have you back.”

“It’s good to be back. I take it you’ve been quite the troublemaker?”

“I have no idea what you’re talking about, Seren dear. It’s been quite an ordeal, really.”

“Hmm. Why don’t you offer me a proper apology over tea? I brought cake.”

“Coffee and walnut?”

“Of course. Chess?”

“Naturally. Come on in.” Seren followed him into the house, the familiarity of it washing over her. Despite the break in, she felt safe and calm there. They caught up over cake. Seren found that she was no longer angry. Knowing that she was a fully paid up Park employee, David spoke more openly about his past. She knew there would always be things he would keep from her, but he was able to articulate fully what had happened when they’d been in the barn. He told her of his worries about River not sleeping properly, eating junk and his overall desolate attitude.

“I take it he doesn’t know I’m here?” She asked carefully. As he went to respond, the sound of a car turning on the driveway filtered through from the kitchen window.

“I suspect he does now.” He mused as River came to a stop quietly in the doorway.

Chapter 7

#slow horses #river cartwright #jack lowden #fanfiction #am writing #slowhorsesfanfiction #river cartwright/reader #river cartwright fanfic #river cartwright smut #rivercartwright/ofc #river cartwright x oc #slow horses smut #slow horses fanfiction

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berrywinner · 17 days ago

Note

I really need a sisterly 13 🥹🙏

por favor y muchas gracias mi amiga

Like a sister

The hospital never slept. It buzzed with beeping monitors, echoing footsteps, and the low hum of whispered conversations. Somewhere in the middle of that chaos, Thirteen moved with calm precision shoulders squared, eyes sharp, mouth pressed in that unreadable line she wore like armor.

She wasn’t cold. Just… careful.

You noticed her before anyone else on House’s team. Not because she was loud, but because she watched everything. Not just the patients, but the team. Including you.

House never used your name, only a rotating list of sarcastic nicknames. The rest of the team was friendly enough, but distant. You were new, still proving yourself, and it was easy to feel like you were one mistake away from being torn apart. Especially under House’s glare.

But Thirteen? She didn’t say much, yet she noticed. When you fumbled with a chart, she casually corrected it before House could see. When House barked a question in the middle of rounds and you hesitated, she subtly nudged the answer toward you with a glance. And after a particularly grueling shift, she handed you a protein bar without a word.

You wanted to thank her. You didn’t know how.

The first real conversation you had was after midnight, in the diagnostics room. House had stormed off to play piano or abuse his liver, and the rest of the team had vanished. You sat alone, staring at the whiteboard, willing your brain to connect the dots. Thirteen wandered back in.

“You look like you’re about to pass out,” she said.

“Just thinking.”

She raised an eyebrow. “Thinking’s good. Collapsing? Less good.”

You managed a tired smile. “Do you ever get used to this?”

“To the hours? The pressure? The stress dreams about making a mistake that kills someone?” She shrugged. “You get used to pretending you’re used to it.”

That was the moment it started.

It wasn’t dramatic or sudden. There was no big emotional breakthrough. Just small, steady things. She started checking in more, never directly. A look across the table during diagnostics. A second coffee cup next to yours on the break room counter. The way she always stood a little closer when House was being particularly cruel.

Then, one day, your voice was hoarse, scratchy from lack of sleep and too many cold patients in one day. Thirteen passed by, set a sealed container on your desk, and kept walking.

You blinked at it. “What’s this?”

“Soup. Eat it. Don’t make it a thing.”

“You cook?”

She didn’t turn around. “I have layers.”

From then on, she started peeling back a few more of those layers. Quietly. Carefully. One night during a slow shift, out of nowhere, she said, “I have Huntington’s.”

You froze.

“I’m not telling you for pity,” she added quickly. “I just think… if I disappear one day, you deserve to know why.”

You swallowed hard. “I’d notice if you were gone.”

She smiled then, faint but real. “You better.”

And then there was the day you made your first big mistake.

It wasn’t fatal. The patient didn’t die. But House laid into you like a wrecking ball. He tore apart your logic, your technique, your confidence, all in front of the team. You barely held it together long enough to get to the supply closet before the tears hit.

The door creaked open a few minutes later. Thirteen stepped inside.

“He’s a bastard,” she said softly. “But he’s not always wrong.”

You didn’t look up.“That’s supposed to help?”

“No. But I’ve been there. You learn from it. That’s how you don’t screw up the same way twice.”

“I just… I thought I was doing the right thing.”

“You were. It just wasn’t enough. That doesn’t make you weak. It makes you new.”

You sniffled, wiping your sleeve across your face. “You ever want to quit?”

“All the time,” she said. “But then someone codes, and I realize I still want to be the one standing over them, trying.”

Later that night, she drove you home without asking. Handed you a change of clothes,her own, way too big, and told you the couch was yours. “You get nightmares?” she asked.

You hesitated. Then nodded.

“I’ll be in the room down the hall. Door’s open.”

You didn’t sleep much that night, but the nightmares didn’t feel as heavy with someone close by.

From then on, something shifted. You started texting during late shifts. Ate lunch together when you could. She shared her music with you,and dragged you to a boxing class when you admitted you hated therapy.

“Sometimes you need to punch something,” she said. “Or someone.”

She was the first person you told when your parent got sick. You tried to hold it together, to act like everything was fine, but she saw right through it. She didn’t say anything right away, just handed you a coffee and sat with you in silence for twenty minutes.

When you finally broke down, she let you cry on her shoulder.

“I’m not good at the comforting thing,” she said.

“You’re doing fine.”

Somehow, she became your anchor.

She taught you how to survive House’s chaos. How to deflect his attacks. How to read his weird patterns of behavior. She was the one who warned you when House was in a worse mood than usual, who taught you how to tune him out without getting fired.

Once, House referred to you as her “pet project.”

You bristled.

She just smirked. “Better than his.”

Another time, someone at the hospital asked if you were Thirteen’s sibling. You started to deny it. She answered first.

“Practically.”

That word stuck with you for days.

Then there was your birthday. You hadn’t planned anything. You barely mentioned it. But she showed up in the break room with a small cake and two plastic crowns.

“Pick one”she said. “Or I will.”

You laughed, for the first time in days.

“Happy birthday.”

You didn’t cry. Not then.

You saved it for the night a patient died, a young one, just a year older than you. The entire team was shaken. House didn’t say a word, just disappeared. Everyone else went home.

Thirteen found you in the locker room.

“I should’ve caught it,” you whispered.

“No, you shouldn’t have.”

“He’s dead.”

“I know.”

You broke then, shoulders shaking. She sat next to you, her arm brushing yours, and let you fall apart. Didn’t offer advice. Just stayed. When you were done, she handed you tissues and said, “We go again tomorrow.”

It wasn’t all heavy moments.

Sometimes, you teased her about her terrible taste in movies. She’d retaliate by stealing your favorite snacks from the break room fridge. You developed your own rhythm, jokes that only you two understood, glances across the room when things went sideways, shared frustration at House’s mind games.

And one night, sitting on the hood of her car outside the hospital, you turned to her and said, “You’re kind of the sister I never had.”

She didn’t answer right away.

Then: “Yeah"

She never said she loved you. She wasn’t the type. But she showed it, in how she kept watch when you were exhausted, in how she always had gum when you were too anxious to eat, in the way she looked at you when House went too far.

You never questioned it after that.

Because no matter what the world threw at you, House’s cruelty, your own self-doubt, the chaos of Princeton-Plainsboro.

Thirteen was there.

Like a sister.

#house md #remy thirteen hadley #remy hadley #house md thirteen #thirteen #sisterly!thirteen #housemd x reader #thirteen x reader

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gugugyuu · 7 months ago

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dog sitter part i - beomgyu x reader

warnings: none <33

the doorbell rang multiple times and each chime were more irritating than the last. "geez," you muttered, raking a hand through your hair in frustration as you hurriedly packed your things for work.

"coming!" you called out, swinging open the door where you were met with an unexpected sight: a tall, strikingly handsome man standing just outside. "good... morning," you said, blushing. "can i help you?"

he glanced down at his phone, seeming a little flustered too. "oh, um, are you..." he hesitated, then looked back up, "y/n?"

you nodded, just as your dog barked excitedly, shoving his way forward to greet the newcomer.

"and you must be d/g," he said, grinning as he crouched down to pet him. your dog immediately rolled onto his back, asking for belly scratches.

"i'm beomgyu, by the way," he introduced himself with a chuckle, still giving your dog attention. "i'll be taking care of this little guy."

you stepped aside. "please," gesturing for him to come in. "make yourself at home."

few days ago, you'd been drowning in work and barely finding time for yourself, let alone making sure your dog was properly walked or fed on time.

guilt always gnawed at you every time you saw him waiting by the door, hopeful for attention you couldn't give. you even considered sending him to your parents but they were even busier than you... they barely had any time for you when you were younger, let alone now.

you mentioned your dilemma to a friend, and somehow that led to beomgyu standing in your living room today, he was a friend of a friend of a friend, and when he messaged you offering help, it wasn't because he needed the money, he'd just graduated, like you, and was looking for something to do during his break.

you knew a bit about him beforehand. he had sent over all the necessary details: a picture of his ID, his mom's name and contact info, even some of his educational and personal background.

you had expected him to be good-looking based on his photo but you hadn't anticipated just how handsome he'd be in person.

you gave him a tour of the house, explaining how the locks worked and handing over a spare key, you couldn't help but joke with him and he'll laugh easily.

you smiled, grabbing your bag and bending down to kiss your dog goodbye.

beomgyu stood by, his presence were oddly comforting. "thank you," he said sincerely. "i feel really welcome and don't worry, i'll take good care of d/n." he smiled. "you take care of yourself."

you gave him a grateful look and mouthed, "thanks," before heading out the door and into your car.

then few months passed, everything seemed perfect.

your schedule and beomgyu's synced up effortlessly, your days off became his too.

you always made sure to get home so he could leave on time, though sometimes you'd ask if he could stay a few extra hours. and when he agreed, you'd throw in a little bonus.

beomgyu sometimes even bought toys and snacks for your dog. despite your offers to repay him, he insisted it's his treat and you always leave the house clean, so he makes sure to leave it spotless as well.

one evening, you walked into your house without any turned on lights. your dog's familiar footsteps padded toward you, his tail wagging in excitement.

you reached for the light switch but before you could flip it on, you and beomgyu screamed, startled by each other in the dim room.

d/n barked, caught in the middle of the chaos but within seconds, the two of you laughed after realizing how silly it was.

go to: next part || title || masterlist

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phos-phorus · 10 months ago

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Launt / ''Chapter 1''

Still struggling with the Launt fic (I'm not satisfied with this at all) but here's the first ''Chapter'' because I feel bad for taking so long.

This is an unpolished version. If I upload the fic on AO3 it will probably be a tiny bit different just because I'll probably change a few things so constructive criticism is welcome! With that said I hope y'all enjoy!

1970

Their paths crossed on a sun-baked afternoon during the qualifying session at a British track. Niki had been on a flying lap, perfectly in control as he hit every apex with precision. Then, out of nowhere, James appeared in his mirrors, a blur of speed and audacity. Without hesitation, James forced his way past, shoving Niki off the racing line as if the rules of racing didn’t apply to him.

Niki was forced to slam on the brakes to avoid a collision, his car fishtailing slightly before he regained control. Anger surged through him as he pulled into the pits after the session, where he saw James casually leaning against his car, a smug grin plastered across his face.

“You call that racing?” Niki barked as he stormed over, his usually calm demeanor gone.

James barely looked up, his blue eyes glinting with amusement. “Come on, Lauda. Can´t handle a little push?”

Niki’s jaw tightened. “You shoved me off the line. My line. You have no respect for the rules.”

“Rules?” James chuckled, shaking his head. “This is racing, mate, not a Sunday drive. If you’re not willing to take risks, you’re in the wrong sport.”

For a moment, Niki stood there, his fists clenched at his sides, the urge to punch James in the face almost overwhelming. But instead, he took a step back, exhaling sharply. “Arschloch,” he muttered under his breath as he turned his back on James. He walked away, determined to focus on the next race. He had no time for brash idiots like Hunt.

James watched him leave, a mischievous grin tugging at the corners of his lips. “Asshole.”

Yet, fate has a funny way of intertwining the lives of those who seem destined to clash. Over the next few months, as the season progressed, Niki and James found themselves crossing paths more often. At first, it was nothing more than icy glares and terse nods. But slowly, almost imperceptibly, things began to change.

It all started with a rain-soaked evening at a track in the middle of nowhere. The day’s races had been called off, the downpour turning the circuit into a treacherous mess. Most drivers had retreated to their trailers or nearby hotels, but Niki, ever the perfectionist, had stayed behind, poring over notes about his car’s performance in the day’s practice session. He sat in the back of his team’s garage, his brow furrowed in concentration, while mechanics packed up around him.

James, on the other hand, had been on his way to the nearest pub when he caught sight of Niki alone in the garage. For reasons even he couldn’t fully explain, he stopped in his tracks. Maybe it was curiosity, or maybe it was just boredom, but instead of heading off to chase drinks and women, he found himself wandering over to Niki’s side.

“You know, Lauda, staring at that car won’t make it go faster.” James quipped, his voice cutting through the sound of rain drumming on the metal roof.

Niki looked up, surprised. His first instinct was to brush James off, but something in the Englishman’s easy grin made him pause. Instead, he sighed and leaned back in his chair.

“Maybe not. But understanding why it didn’t go fast today might help tomorrow.”

James nodded, hands in his pockets as he surveyed the sleek machine in front of them. “Fair enough. But sometimes you’ve got to step away, clear your head a bit.”

Niki smirked. “I’m guessing your idea of clearing your head involves a few pints and some poor woman you’ll never call again?”

James chuckled, unoffended. “Maybe. But you might be surprised. Sometimes, it’s more than that.”

Niki raised an eyebrow, skeptical. “More than that? From you?”

James shrugged, taking a seat on a nearby tool chest. “People see what they want to see. Doesn’t mean that’s all there is.”

That was the first real conversation they had, one that stretched on for a surprising amount of time as the rain fell harder outside. The next morning, Niki found himself thinking about their talk, replaying James’s words in his mind. Maybe there was more to the man than just reckless driving and reckless living.

After that night, they began to spend more time together. It wasn’t anything planned—just a few minutes here and there, small talk—brief exchanges about lap times, car setups, the quirks of different tracks. Then came the late-night conversations, where they found themselves discussing life beyond racing. James was surprised to find that beneath Niki’s stern exterior was a dry wit and a surprisingly sharp sense of humor. Niki, in turn, discovered that James was more than just a reckless playboy—he had an uncanny ability to see the bigger picture, even if he rarely showed it.

One weekend, during a break between races, Niki and James found themselves at the same shabby motel in a small town just outside the next race circuit. It was the kind of place that had only one pub, where all the drivers ended up after long days of practice and qualifying. That evening, after the usual chatter about the upcoming race died down, Niki surprised himself by agreeing to join James for a drink.

The pub was dimly lit, filled with the scent of spilled beer and the low hum of conversation. James, as always, seemed to know everyone, and within minutes, he had introduced Niki to half the room. Niki, more reserved, stayed by James’s side, sipping his drink quietly as the night unfolded around them.

After a few rounds, they found themselves at a table in the corner, away from the noise. James leaned back in his chair, a relaxed smile on his face. “So, Lauda, tell me something. Why racing? Why not some cushy job back in Austria?”

Niki looked at him, considering his answer carefully. “Because I need to win. I need to be the best at something that matters.”

“Doesn’t everything matter, in its own way?”

“Not like this,” Niki replied firmly. “In racing, there’s no gray area. You’re either faster, or you’re not. You’re either alive, or you’re not. That kind of clarity… it’s rare.”

James nodded, understanding. “And that’s enough for you? Just being the best?”

“For now,” Niki said, though his tone suggested there was more he wasn’t saying.

James didn’t push. Instead, he took a long drink, then grinned. “Well, you’re a damn sight more interesting than I first thought, Lauda.”

“And you’re not as much of an arschloch as I first thought, Hunt,” Niki responded, a small smile tugging at the corner of his lips.

#launt #niki lauda #classic f1 #james hunt #rathunt #rush 2013 #f1 fanfic #ficlet

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praise-suns-and-chill · 2 years ago

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Okay I needed to write SOMETHING, and that scene how we get Ogerpon desperately needed a rewrite anyways.

End result is the same, but I feel like... there should be more options than just fighting things out anyways.

Just a small one shot, but maybe I will rewrite more scenes later!

"Kieran, you know it isn't up to you."

Jules glared at Carmine. As if she had any room to talk, considering she usually acted like everything was up to her.

"Exactly. It's up to me too, and to my Team, and if they would get along with Ogerpon as well to begin with."

Now both siblings looked at her, surprised. Jules crossed her arms in defense.

"Yes, my teams opinion matter to me too. We will all spend time together, that means we all should get along! I wouldn't want any infighting, just watching anyone in my team be stressed all the time because they need to be around someone who doesn't treat them properly." She definitely only meant her team with that. Of course.

While Carmine just looked utterly confused, Kieran stared at the ground, his hand twitching as usual when he seemed to think.

"That's... I never thought about that..."

Jules gaze was gentle when her eyes wandered over to him, and she nodded.

"That's alright. Most people don't really seem to think of that. But... they're my team, right? And that means that we all work together, not just that I boss them around without thinking about how they feel." She hoped he would get the small hint.

She looked down at Ogerpon next, gently patting her head.

"If her opinion matters for who gets to train her, then so does the opinion of the rest of my team."

She wasn't fully sure if Ogerpon could understand her, but the little ogre happily nodded along.

"Maybe... instead of fighting over it, we should let our teams decide, then."

Carmina looked between Jules and her brother incredulously.

"Are you serious? THAT'S how you will decide that?"

"Why not?" Jules shrugged.

"...I think that's fair." Kieran also nodded now, his eyes still flicking over to the green ogre, still unsure despite his words.

"On three?" Jules held up the balls her Team was in, and watched her new friend do the same.

"One..."

"Two."

"Three!" And both released their Teams all at once.

Ogerpon jumped slightly back in surprise, but her hesitation didn't last long before curiosity overtook her, just like both of the Teams.

Quaquaval just looked around in nothing but confusion for a moment, before quickly noticing all the eyes on it and starting to fix its "hair", of course, needing to make a good impression.

Her Spiritomb taking one look, shivering and promptly retreating back into its keystone. Alright, she had never been the social type anyway, that was to be expected.

Growlithe on the other hand enthusiastically jumped around, sniffing and playfully barking at all the new arrivals. While a newbie to the team, looks like he would be happy to just befriend anyone.

Kierans team started looking around just as confused for a moment, aside from his Dipplin, who was already confidently crawling over to the strangers.

Yanmega was next to follow, and soon they all started to mingle around each other, Ogerpon a bit overwhelmed, but brightly smiling in the middle of it all.

And so, their trainers simply stood by for a while, watching their teams peacefully play with each other. Kierans nervous fiddling had stopped by now, even a small smile now showed on his face.

All the while, Jules kept her eyes on him from the side, now her being the one to nervously fiddle.

Carmine meanwhile was actually being quiet for once, apparently distracted enough by the cute sight in front of her. Distracted enough that Jules scooted closer to Kieran, sitting down next to him.

He quickly looked up.

"Should we stop them now?" The anxious look was already back, and his hands gripped onto his sweater.

Jules quickly shook her head.

"No! No, we should... Still give them some time..." Her voice was hushed, not wanting Carmine to overhear and interrupt. She now mirrored the boy, her fingers nervously tipping against her shirt.

"I... wanted to say sorry."

She frowned at the ground, not quite being able to look up, as Kieran looked at her confused.

"Huh? Why?"

"Because I didn't tell you right away. I wanted to, but Carmine just stopped me, and then she told me that you would probably run into the mountains, and I was worried you would actually do that too then, and I didn't want you to get hurt so I didn't tell you and the next day I just felt so bad about it and then I told you because I thought at least it was day and I could maybe come along but I had still kept quiet the first day and I wanted to say sorry there too but-"

Her words stumbled over themselves and she crossed her arms, holding onto herself as her voice got more and more quiet, as she struggled to get the words out. Despite her attempts to stay subtle, she wasn't as successful as she had hoped.

Now her Spiritomb burst out of its keystone, quickly turning and hopping over to her trainer. Of course, the ghost type would notice negative feelings first. Growlithe was next to notice, running quickly back on his stubby little legs, and soon Ogerpon and the rest of both teams followed, disrupted by the troubled Teen who was now holding onto the stone her Spiritomb had disappeared back into.

Meanwhile Kieran just stared at her, dumbfounded, as if he hadn't expected any of this.

"I..." He took a moment, not knowing what to say, and before he could continue the two were interrupted.

"What did you do, Kieran!?" Carmine looked at him shaking, but before he could respond Jules jumped up again, as if all her energy had just flooded back immediately.

"He didn't do anything, stop accusing him while knowing nothing!" The glare from her golden eyes matched Carmines, Growlithe did his name justice as he growled in defense of his trainer now, while Quaquaval looked just about ready to kick Carmine off the cliff.

"Jules, don't, I'll deal with it!" The boy held up his hands, trying to pacify the two before an argument could break out, and after a tense pause, Jules sighed and slumped back down as Ogerpon walked up next to her. The cute ogre looking as worried as could be between all three, the sight seemingly melting away even Carmines anger.

"Fine. If you say so!" Still, she wouldn't stop taking control now, looking over this assembly before settling on Ogerpon.

"So? Did you decide by now?"

Ah.

Right.

Jules seemed to slump even further, while Kierans ticks immediately flared up again. There still was a decision to be made, after all.

The two exchanged quick glances before looking away and watching the two, Carmine took over, as usual.

"So!" She clapped her hands and looked down at Ogerpon, pointing to each of the two teams after another.

"Which one do you want to join?"

"Pon?"

The green ogre followed Carmines pointers, confused for just a moment before tilting her head, thinking for a short moment.

Before she eventually wandered over to Jules, waving her hooded arms in the air, the rest of her team swarming around their new friend, as her new trainer gave her a sad smile.

If Ogerpon wanted to stay with her, she would never say no. After all the rejection, she deserved a loving, caring trainer.

But...

She glanced to Kieran, who was just hiding his expression behind his hair. Not showing what he was thinking, not saying a word.

But he, after all the rejection, deserved a loving, caring friend.

#pokemon kieran #pokemon carmine #pokemon juliana #or in this case jules #a bit unorthodox to say the least #please comment if you like it! critique is also welcome

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tapperhet-em · 2 years ago

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"You stay right here and if Melba barks, shoot whoever is coming through the door. You've used my rifle before, so you know how. Don't hesitate." Lorcan didn't like leaving her alone in the cabin, but he wanted to go hide the Jeep in a turnout he knew was hidden back down the drive. The guys in Elio’s SUV already knew they were there, and this would keep anyone else from stumbling on them if they started checking out other properties since they never showed up at Einar’s family’s estate. It made no sense for both of them to go just to park the Jeep, so he was going to trust that the less than fifteen minutes he’d be gone would be safe for her.

"I remember." Meeri nodded in the almost pitch black of the living room, not sure if he could see her. Melba was laying at her feet as she stood and talked to Lorcan. They had completely unloaded the Jeep, the contents were just to the side of the door, waiting for the others to get there so they could decide where everything would go.

"Good. The guys should be here in a couple hours, they thought, but they could be closer than that, so if they pass me I'll let you know so that you don't shoot Einar. Kinda get the feeling you'd both hate me if that happened." He was trying to lighten the mood just a touch by teasing her. He took her hand and gave it a light squeeze. The four men had been soldiers since they’d gotten out of school, Knights to the Royal Family almost as long, but Lorcan still couldn’t quash the nerves he felt. They were without backup, Meeri was being hunted and someone else’s life was on the line if there were mistakes.

The guys had all known that Einar had been in love with Meeri for years, just no one was going to come out and say it. It was an unspoken thing, all of them respected and even kept teasing off limits. The seeming reciprocated feelings they had glimpsed earlier at Einar’s apartment meant she had probably been hiding her feelings for as long, most likely to protect him from her family. Lorcan considered her a little sister, and he was pretty sure Elio did as well. Tieran was the one no one knew quite what his feelings were. One day he’d be hot and the next day frigid. Lorcan just hoped including him in all of this wasn’t a mistake they’d regret later on.

"I wouldn’t hate you,” Meeri fought a laugh, “but I have a feeling it would make things extremely complicated. As if things aren't complicated enough suddenly, putting a bullet in him would definitely not help." There was a slightly nervous quality to her laugh that followed and Lorcan didn't miss it.

"Only complicated if you want them to be, sis. His feelings are pretty damn simple. You know I'm in your corner, whatever happens." Lorcan pulled her forward by her upper arms and kissed the middle of her forehead. "Now, I'm going to go hide the Jeep. I'll be right back." He lightly ruffled the side of her hair then headed out the front door. Time for getting all fucking sentimental later.

As Meeri heard the Jeep fire up, she went over and sat on the couch. Melba went with her and put her head in Meeri’s lap. As she waited for Lorcan to return or the others to show up, her fingers gently ran over the top of the dog's head. It was a gentle and repetitive motion that seemed to soothe both of them. The doberman might scare a lot of people, but having her sitting there on the couch with her actually made Meeri feel a lot safer and calmer.

The more she mulled over their conversation, the more Meeri knew Lorcan was right. Einar’s feelings towards her were straightforward. She'd known it for a long time but had feared acknowledging them or acting on her own. Her father was capricious on a good day and she couldn't risk losing the man she loved to him because he wasn't royalty, even if he was high born. Status only mattered to a point when it came to him. To her, it didn’t matter at all, but as in many things, what she wanted or thought didn’t matter at all to her father. In the end, her father had abandoned her where Einar hadn’t. That spoke loud and clear about who cared for and loved her more.

As Lorcan drove the Jeep back down the trail towards the turnout, he kept his eyes peeled for oncoming headlights. It was a full moon, so he’d killed the Jeep’s lights since he could see well enough to drive. Whether it was their three friends or soldiers hunting for Meeri, he wanted to give them as best a chance as he could of remaining hidden. He was well aware of the stakes at play. He and the other three men could bluff their way out of anyone who came along, but if Meeri was found she might not even survive to make it back to the city gates. There could be no mistakes.

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speedyartist30 · 7 months ago

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Runaway Bus

The school bus buzzed with energy as kids chattered and laughed, filling the air with their excitement for the day ahead. Amid the commotion, a boy named Logan sat alone in the middle of the bus, completely absorbed in his sketchbook. His pencil moved across the page, bringing to life the image of a masked man surrounded by jagged, zigzag patterns.

From the seat behind him, his friend Kai leaned over, curiosity piqued.

"Hey, Logan, who are you drawing?" Kai asked, craning his neck to get a better look.

Logan glanced up, startled by his friend looming over him. He shifted to the side just as Kai’s balance gave out, and with a yelp, Kai tumbled into the seat beside him.

"HEY! STOP STANDING ON THE SEATS!" the bus driver barked, his glare visible in the rearview mirror.

Kai stuck his tongue out at the driver before turning his attention back to Logan's sketchbook. His eyes lit up as he recognized the subject of the drawing.

"Isn't that the guy who's always on the news? You draw him a lot," Kai remarked, pointing at the masked figure.

Logan's face lit up with excitement, and a grin spread across his face. His friend's recognition had sparked the fanboy within him.

"Yeah! Because he's so cool!" Logan exclaimed. "I saw him again a few weeks ago!"

Kai snorted, leaning back against the seat. "Ha, yeah right."

Logan frowned, clutching his sketchbook tightly. "I’m serious!" he insisted, his voice rising. "I saw him out my window. He was walking with my grandma, and then she gave him something."

Kai raised an eyebrow curiously. "Why was he with her?"

Logan’s expression softened as he recalled the memory. "My grandma said he saved her."

(Flashback)

It had been a quiet night, and Logan was supposed to be asleep. But when he heard hushed voices outside, his curiosity got the better of him. Creeping to his window, he peeked through the curtains and froze.

There, under the faint glow of a streetlight, stood the masked man from the news. He was talking to Logan’s grandmother. When the man tilted his head slightly, as if sensing he was being watched, Logan ducked behind the curtain, his heart racing.

From downstairs, Logan heard the clatter of cabinets as his grandma searched for something in the kitchen. Moments later, the front door creaked open, and she stepped outside again.

Summoning his courage, Logan peeked through the window once more, but the masked man was gone. All he saw was his grandmother walking back toward the house, something clutched tightly in her hands.

(Flashback End)

Kai’s eyes widened as Logan finished his story. "Well, you’re lucky," he muttered, crossing his arms with a pout. "I’ve never seen him in person before—just those blurry videos on the news."

Logan couldn’t help but grin at his friend’s disappointment. He leaned closer, his voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper. "How about me and you look for him?"

Kai blinked. "Huh?"

"Yeah!" Logan said, his excitement bubbling over. "You can come over to my house, and we’ll see if we can catch him. Then we can ask him questions!"

Kai hesitated for a moment, but Logan’s determination was infectious. Feeling a rush of excitement himself, Kai broke into a grin. "Alright, let’s do it!"

The boys conversation didn’t go unnoticed. Logan and Kai’s voices had grown louder, catching the attention of the other kids on the bus.

"How are you two going to catch him if the police can’t?" one kid questioned, crossing his arms.

"My dad says he can’t be trusted," chimed another. "He always disappears and covers his face. That makes him suspicious."

"I’ve seen videos," a third said thoughtfully. "But he moves too fast for cameras to catch his face."

Logan sat up straighter, clutching his sketchbook protectively. "He can be trusted! He probably just doesn’t want people to see his face."

"In that store video, you can kind of see his face," another kid chimed in, her tone dreamy. "His eyes are so pretty!"

"I saw that one!" another added eagerly. "I really like his hair. It looks super fluffy!"

Kai rolled his eyes, brushing a hand through his own hair. "What about me? I have cool hair!"

A boy near the front of the bus snorted. "No, you don’t!"

As the kids erupted into chatter, some agreeing while others argued, they were too distracted to notice the ominous buzzing sound growing louder outside.

Suddenly, a deafening bang rattled the bus, throwing it to the side with a violent jolt. Several kids screamed as the force sent some of them tumbling out of their seats.

The bus driver cursed loudly, struggling to regain control of the vehicle. Panic spread through the bus as Logan scrambled to look out the window, his heart pounding in his chest.

What he saw made his blood run cold—a massive wasp, its grotesque legs gripping the side of the bus as its pincers scratched against the glass, trying to pry it open.

Then all hell broke loose.

More wasps appeared, swarming the bus, their grotesque bodies slamming into its sides with enough force to make it lurch dangerously. The driver gritted his teeth, struggling to keep the bus upright as it rocked violently from side to side.

The kids’ screams filled the air. Some cried uncontrollably while others huddled together, trembling in terror. The wasps pressed against the windows, their hissing and scratching noises amplifying the chaos inside.

Admist the panic, Logan found himself squished between his classmates, all of them desperate to get as far away from the windows as possible. But through the blur of fear and confusion, something caught Logan’s eye, a spark of gold flashing outside.

Another thud landed on the roof, but it sounded different, lighter, more controlled.

Logan’s heart began to race. His eyes widened as he spotted a dark blur streak across the windows, methodically taking down the attacking wasps one by one.

The realization hit him almost instantly.

*He’s here!*

Logan shoved his way through the panicked crowd, ignoring their protests as he climbed onto a seat for a better view.

The bus shook as a wasp’s head was severed and tumbled onto the street, rolling like a grotesque ball. Logan cringed but refused to look away. Above him, golden sparks lit up the roof of the bus like falling stars.

"LOGAN, GET AWAY FROM THE WINDOW!" Kai’s voice rang out, sharp and terrified.

But Logan barely heard him. His eyes were glued to the roof, where more wasps fell one by one, their bodies hitting the pavement with sickening thuds.

Then, silence. For a moment, the only sounds were the bus’s rumbling engine and the soft sniffles of the frightened kids.Logan held his breath as he heard slow, deliberate footsteps overhead. Suddenly, the emergency exit door above them creaked and groaned before being forced open.A figure dropped into the aisle. Golden light licking at his finger tips

Neons city vigilante stood before them

For a moment, Logan forgot how to breathe. As the man’s glowing gold eyes seem to scan through them. Golden sparks still danced faintly around him, crackling softly before fading.Without a word, he turned and made his way toward the front of the bus, where the driver was still struggling to maintain control.

Jays POV

Disposing of the last wasp with some effort, Jay leapt toward the emergency door of the bus.

It had been weeks since the last wasp encounter, and their sudden reappearance in such numbers had caught him off guard. He had helped the police take down a few earlier that day, but when he spotted a bus speeding down the street covered in them, he knew he had to help.

Landing inside the bus, Jay was immediately struck by the sight of a group of kids huddled together in the back. Their faces were pale with terror, their eyes wide with disbelief…except for one. A boy near the middle of the group was staring at him, not in fear, but in pure excitement.

Jay’s quickly checked the children, checking for injuries. Relieved to find none, he turned and headed toward the bus driver.

"W-who are you?" the bus driver stammered, his voice shaky.

Jay didn’t slow his pace. "That’s not important,"Through the windshield, he saw more wasps closing in, their buzzing growing louder as they swarmed the bus.

Jay leaned over the bus drivers shoulder to get a glimpse out the window. Another wave of wasps were come. "Keep the bus steady. I’m going to clear you a path."

The driver swallowed hard, panic etched on his face as his hands clutched the wheel like a lifeline. Noticing the fear in the man’s face, jay out a hand on his shoulder and said,”Just focus in driving. I won’t let them get close. These kids need you,ok?”

The man gave a stiff nod and jay turned to leave.He paused briefly, glancing over his shoulder at the children. His voice was steady but firm, his glowing gaze locking onto the boy who had been watching him so intently.

"Stay away from the windows," he instructed.

Then, without another word, Jay launched himself back onto the roof.

The wind whipped past him as he perched atop the bus, golden sparks flickering around his body. With precision and determination, he tore through the wasps swarming ahead, carving a path for the bus as it barreled down the street. When they reached the school the bus driver slammed on the breaks with a loud screech as the bus driver flung open the doors.

"Run!" he yelled, panic in his voice.

The kids scrambled to get off the bus, rushing toward the safety of the school as wasps swarmed around them. Jay fought off the insects with fierce precision, buying the children enough time to escape.

Logan and Kai were the last to jump off the bus. They sprinted as fast as they could, but just as they were about to make it to the school doors, a wasp latched onto Kai.

Logan’s heart skipped a beat. He turned and grabbed Kai’s arms, pulling with all his strength, but the wasp’s grip was too strong. Kai was lifted off the ground, and they both screamed as the wasp began to carry them into the air.

Jay’s heard them scream and without hesitation, he sprinted up the side of the bus, launching himself into the air just before the boys got to high. Spinning Jay rammed his foot into the wasp, yanking the boys from its grasp and landing back on the ground in a slide. He barely had time to think when another wasp dove down. He pushed both boys back and caught the wasp by its blade like limbs. In a quick motion he snapped its neck and it dropped limply.

Turning around he see’s the kid from before on the ground, his eyes blow wide while his classmate yells at him to run a few feet away from him. Tapping into his power,Jay scooped up the kid and grabbed the other and took off into the school as another wasp locked eyes on them. The bus driver held the door open for them and jay dropped the kids off with the huddled children. But before the bus driver could close the door a wasp forced its way in.

Screams echoed behind him, but jay tuned them out as he focused on the mutant insect.

Manipulating his power to replicate the real heat of lightning, Jay reels his hand back as a blot formed in his palm. Taking a sharp breath he launched it directly the wasp as it pierced clean through its head and right between its eyes. Giving the wasp no time to react Jay follows up with a kick and sends the wasp flying back out the door. Grabbing the door close Jay and twisted the lock with a audible click.

Stepping back, jay sighed quietly as he turned to face the small class behind him, which now where accompanied by a teacher. The bus driver on the other hand took off down the hall.

Seeing all of them staring jay awkwardly ran a hand through his messy curls. Then, a high-pitched voice cut through the silence.

“I TOLD YOU HE’S A HERO!!!” Logan shouted, his frame still shaky from the adrenaline but a smile still plastered on his face.

Jay tilted his head

*hero?*

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