#don’t know where else i would’ve put it it’s not lying on any of my instruments either i probably put it quote somewhere i would remember un

[veinpursuer]

WHERE’S MY FUKING CAPO

[gay-dorito-dust]

May I ask for the batboys reaction to their BFF that they have a crush on saying “EWW, gross, he’s like my brother”, in response to someone saying that they’d make a cute couple?

Welp confession is off the table if that’s how you see them ngl.

Dick tries to take it in stride but is hiding the fact that he’s having to come to terms that his best friend and his crush only sees him as a brother figure. Yikes. That’s worse than being friend zoned, you might as well have stabbed him and it would’ve hurt a lot less than being considered a brother.

Dick will act like he isn’t affected but if you were to squint you can see that his smile wasn’t genuine and his eyes didn’t twinkle like they normally did, but even if you were to call him out on it he’ll only laugh and discard your concerns with a vague answer.

He hated hiding this from you but he knew there was no way he could ever confess, no way in fucking he’ll could he confess when you’ve made your stance clear as day, even if he wishes it was a bad joke or a dream that he’ll inevitably wake up from. He’ll think that he’s accepted his fate but every time he looks at you smiling or leaning against his side, he’ll be reminded that he was just lying to himself, much like he’s been lying to you about feeling absolutely nothing romantic towards you.

He’ll live his life living a lie if it means that you’ll never know how he truly feels, even if it hurts or until he finds someone else to love, knowing deep down he’ll never love another as deeply as he did you.

Jason felt as though he had died. Again.

He’s unsettlingly silent after the whole thing and would answer you in short or dry responses so often they you just decided that talking wasn’t what he wanted to do right now. He was processing the fact that there will most likely not be a reality where you two end up together if this is how you saw him in each one.

He will most probably put some distance between the two of you as a result of this, so don’t be surprised when you hear nothing from Jason for weeks on end. He’s just trying to figure out what to do now because he was planning to confess, but you saying he’s nothing more to you than a brother kinda made that plan backfire in his face.

Jason knows that feelings aren’t easily discarded as much as he would love them to be but he couldn’t force you to feel the same as him and so he’ll have to accept that you were still in his life, even if it’s not going to be his partner. After all he just wanted you to be happy even if that happiness may not lie with him.

Tim quickly throws away any and all plans of confessing to you early quick because if you only see him as a brother figure, then he’ll see that confessing will only make things weirder between the two of you.

He’s trying to think how your friendship can continue when there was a one sided infatuation on his end because as far as he was aware they tended to end badly and extremely messy. He didn’t want that to become of you two and thus he’ll probably chuckle awkwardly along with you, waving off the ladies suspicions of you two ever being a couple, even though it hurt his heart to do so.

It’ll be obvious that he’s hiding something from you but you weren’t going to say anything until he did, which mean even more pain shooting through poor Tim as he tries his hardest to act as though he’s not got a crush on you. However this tends to make him come across as stiff, awkward and a bit cold at times, and or he’ll bury himself into his vigilante work to the point where he doesn’t allow himself free time with you anymore.

That was the last time he’ll ever trust a stupid romance movie where the friends get together ever again.

Damian kinda saw this coming from the moment your whole body poetically recoiled at the thought of being with him romantically.

So needless to say that while expected that kind of response from you, it still hurt him nonetheless to know that his affections were reciprocated even in the slightest. Damian didn’t think he would ever allow his feelings to become out of his control but here he was, crushing on someone who’ll never see him in the same light assumably.

He hates it and despises it greatly but realises there’s nothing much he could do but accept your words as truth and not cross any boundaries. So don’t be surprised that Damian gets cold with you, well more cold than usual, he’s just nursing a broken heart and being in the presence of the person who had inadvertently broke it wasn’t his ideal day out.

[leahwllmsn]

yes, and?

leah williamson x reader

word count: 0.7k

You weren’t having a good Monday morning. Some stranger decided to make it even worse.

“Where do you think you’re going?!”

Despite your loud voice, the blonde didn’t turn around, she kept on walking, eyes glued to her phone. You huffed before you caught up to the blonde and grabbed her shoulder.

That was when you realized a guy in a suit glaring at you the moment your hand touched her.

You gulped, slowly retracting your hand.

The blonde finally turned around, despite the sunglasses covering half her face, you could see the annoyed look plastered on her face clear as day.

“You bumped into my bike and you didn’t even bother to pick it up,” you said, pointing to your bicycle that was on the ground. “Can you not play with your phone while you walk?”

The blonde exhaled loudly before taking off her sunglasses. (You would be lying if you said you didn’t find her ocean blue eyes mesmerizing.)

“What do you want?”

“Oh I don’t know,” you scoffed, waving your hands in the air. “If you bump into something until it falls, the least you could do is put it back in its place.”

For a few seconds, she didn’t say anything, her eyes busy scanning your features. She then took a step forward, a sly smile on her lips. “Do you know who I am?”

“No,” you crossed your arms. “Should I?”

The blonde looked taken aback. “Do you live under a rock?”

You sighed. “What does this have to do with you pushing my bike to the ground?”

“I guess your bicycle was in my way.”

“Unbeliev—” you groaned. “It’s parked against the wall!”

“Okay? I don’t care,” the blonde shrugged. 

You took a deep breath and flashed her a forced smile. Could your day get any worse? First you got fired, then you had to deal with some rude blonde with a gorgeous face and a sexy voice—

“So can I go now?” 

You looked at her. She had a white t-shirt on with a pair of jeans, and despite her height, she still had a pair of high-heels on. If the blonde wasn’t so irritating, you would’ve shamelessly flirted with her.

“Do I at least get an apology?” you asked back, a small part of you didn’t want her to leave so soon.

She looked at you as if you had just said the most ridiculous thing in the world.

“What? My bike probably has some scratches now thanks to you.”

The blonde laughed. She laughed. You furrowed your brows, which part of your sentence was funny?

She took another step forward and you gulped. You could smell the expensive perfume she was wearing, and with the smirk that was starting to appear on her lips, you didn’t know how you could be so attracted to someone you just met.

Someone with such a shitty attitude.

“I’ll buy you a new bicycle, if it’ll get you to shut up.”

You were taken aback. “What?”

She motioned for the guy in the suit to come close, whispering in his ear the moment he did so. After a few seconds, she turned back to you and flashed you a smug smile. She put her sunglasses back on and turned around to walk away.

You stood still, mouth agape. Not even a goodbye? Who did she think she was? 

You were about to walk after her when the guy put his hand in front of you, holding out a piece of card. “Miss, this is my contact information. Message me your address and I’ll have the bicycle shipped to you.”

“I’m sorry, what?”

“The bicycle,” the guy motioned at your bicycle. “Miss Williamson would like to buy you a new one.”

“Miss Williamson?”

“Yes,” he confirmed. “Miss Williamson.”

When you took his card and didn’t say anything else, he gave a small bow and left.

You stared at the card in your hand, mouth still agape. You didn’t even ask for a new bicycle, you just wanted the blonde to be a decent human being.

You sighed, putting the card in your pocket. “Miss Williamson would like to buy you a new one,” you mocked. You bent down to pick up your bicycle and you freezed—Miss Williamson… And that face… You felt like you had seen her before. 

You shook it off. Probably someone you served coffee to. 

You got on your bike and started cycling home. Even though the blonde was a bit rude, a part of you wished you bumped into each other again. 

(Not because you wanted to hear her ridiculously sexy voice again.)

(Only because she still owed you an apology.)

(Definitely not because of that accent.)

[axelsagewrites]

Where Am I?*Part Three

Pairing: modern!f!reader x (to be determined...) Ubbe, Ivar, Sigurd, Hviserks, Bjorn

Word count: 1482

Series Summary: After falling head first the reader wakes up face to face with a group of strangely dressed men who look eerily like the vikings she studies

Part one Part two

Masterlist Here

You weren’t too sure what to expect when Ragnar said they would show you hospitality, but this was definitely something alright. You’d been given a dress that fit into the time period a bit better and made you stick out less than you had before. well, that was if you ignored the fact your hair was completely different from everyone else and everyone, but the Ragnarsson’s took at least three steps back whenever you approached.

When his brothers realised Ivar had been sneaking in to talk to you their protests began, “That’s not fair!”

“Why didn’t you tell us she could understand us?”

“Why did she talk to you and not us?”

You didn’t even feel the need to mention he’d bribed you with food. Ivar was good enough at arguing for himself. meanwhile as they bickered at the dinner table Bjorn sat at the other end staring at you the whole time. it defiantly wasn’t completely unsettling. Ragnar meanwhile was asking you a million questions you didn’t know how to answer.

“So how does a lighter work?”

“A spark happens when you press down and lights the gas,” you tried to explain while you ate your stew.

Ragnar nodded as he thought it over, “I think I understand. But what is a gas?”

“Uh…”  you said but Bjorn cut you off, effectively silencing everyone at the same time.

“How do we know you’re not a witch?” he said making Ivar roll his eyes and for once Ubbe and Ivar seemed to agree with something.

“If she was a witch surely, she would’ve escaped by now?” Ubbe sighed.

“Besides,” Hvitserk said, cheeks pink from his fourth glass of mead, “She’s far too pretty to be a witch,” he said, throwing a wink your way making your own cheeks heat up. The way Ivar glared at Hvitserk though put you on edge.

It was Sigurd turn to roll his eyes at his brother, “You’re a pig. And besides she hasn’t done anything. How do I know you won’t kill me in my sleep?”

“If anyone is going to do that it will be Ivar,” Ubbe said so nonchalantly you felt your jaw drop.

Especially when Ivar chimed in, “This is true,”

You could see the growing annoyance on Bjorn’s face as his younger brothers had their petty fights, something you would soon have to get used to. Clearly Aslaug was used to it however as she sank more into her wine. You had to admit the wine at least was nice. “I don’t know how I can earn your trust Bjorn, but I swear on my life I didn’t come to hurt anyone,”

You half expected him to laugh or roll his eyes at you but instead he cocked his head to the side, “Who told you, my name?”

You watched as everyone paused what they were doing to turn to look at you. “How did you know any of our names?” Sigurd asked.

You debated lying, saying Ivar told you but you didn’t feel like that was a good hole to dig. Instead, you swallowed hard, “Well everyone knows your name. you’re Bjorn ironside. Son of Ragnar. The Ragnarssons are famous,” you tried to say it nonchalantly while being very aware each one of them had a knife or axe.

However, flattery seemed to work, “And me as well?” Ragnar asked, a spark behind his eyes, “After all I am Ragnar Lodbrok,” he said making his sons all roll their eyes.

“Well of course. there are legends about you. they write tv shows about your lives,”

They all seemed so proud of themselves, even Aslaug had a smile behind her cup. You felt satisfied with your excuse until Bjorn asked, “What is a tv show?”

“Uh…”

-

Later that night Ivar showed you to a room that looked far less like a prison than the one you’d been in before. “We’ve got your-whatever these are,” Ubbe said as he and Sigurd walked into the room with a bag each and Hvitserk came in behind them with a flagon of wine.

“They’re just bags,” you said as you took them and moved to sit on the makeshift bed they had.

Privacy clearly wasn’t a thing here as all four boys sat down and began passing the wine around, “What’s in that one?” Sigurd asked, pointing to your guitar case.

You opened it and pulled it out, “Is it some kind of lute?” Hvitserk asked but you could see Sigurd was the keenest.

“I guess?” you said, placing it on your lap and gently strumming the strings, “It’s called a guitar,”

“Play us something?” Ubbe asked before taking a swig out the wine.

You sighed as you looked at the strings and tried to think of a song before your fingers found the strings and you began to strum.

“I’m like the water when your ship rolled in that night,

Rough on the surface, but you cut through like a knife,” you began to sing Taylor swift softly as you played Willow. All four boys seemed mesmerised as you sang and even Ivar stayed quiet until the last night, “I’m begging for you to take my hand,

Wreck my plans, that’s my man,” you finished, placing your hand over the strings and looking up to finally meet their eyes.

“That was beautiful,” Sigurd said, “Did you write that?”

“Yes,” you said without thinking. After all a little white lie never hurt? Besides its not like Taylor would know or anyone could prove you wrong, “Yes I did,”

“You’re very talented,” Ubbe said, passing you the wine.

You looked at it sceptically before finally taking a drink. It’s not like they’d need to poison you anyway. You were already screwed. You all began to drink and laugh the night away as you played a few more songs on the guitar, even letting the boys try have a shot. What you didn’t see however was Bjorn standing beside the door to your room, smiling softly whenever you sang.

-

 The next day Ubbe offered to give you a tour of Kattegat so you could get to know the place. “This is the market,” he said as a little girl ran away from you to her mother making you bite back a laugh, “Sorry about that. They’ll be less frightened of you soon,”

You chuckled at his words making a smile stretch on his face, “Its ironic. Out of everyone here I’m the least frightening one,”

“I don’t know so much,” he said. You narrowed your eyes at him with a curious smile making him chuckle, “Weve never met anyone like you. you are so…” he paused searching for the right word,” rare,”

“That’s the nicest thing I think someone has ever said to me,” you said.

Ubbe gave you a soft smile as he led you around the stalls. You tried to refuse it, but he did buy you a knife, promising to show you how to use it just encase. Even the way he insisted made the hairs on the back of your neck stand up.

As you were walking around the market you did bump into someone. “Bjorn!” Ubbe called to his brother who wore an uncomfortably stoic look as he walked over. “I was just showing her round Kattegat,”

Bjorn nodded, his eyes scanning your frame, “Good. Can’t have you getting lost now, can we? Think my father might have a fit if we lost you,” something about the way his eyes studied you had a heat creeping up the back of your neck.

“I hope all his questions don’t bother you,” Ubbe said, giving you a sorry smile.

It was true that every conversation with Ragnar was like an interrogation. He wanted to know everything you could tell him about the future and honestly you didn’t know how to explain how a television worked. “I don’t mind. Its sweet,” you said making them both chuckle, “What?”

“Most people would not describe my father as sweet,” Bjorn said, a smile finally cracked onto his lips.

“She’s also friends with Ivar so she may not be fully right in the head,” Ubbe teased.

“Ivars not that bad,” you rolled your eyes, but both their eyes seemed to bulge out their skulls, “He’s a lot nicer when people aren’t constantly picking on him,” you half joked though you did hate how they teased him. especially Sigurd who whenever Ivar wasn’t around was kind but whenever he walked into the room you could cut the air with a knife.

Ubbe just tutted at you, “Oh you have much to learn sweet, foolish, girl. It’s a good thing we found you when we did,” You did your best to roll your eyes and blow him off but for the rest of the day you found your mind wandering. What would it be like to date a Viking?

Part four here

Taglist Sign Up Here

General taglist: @strvngestark @headinfantasy @meg-ro @427120lxld @obx-josie18 @ravenmoore14 @tessakate @justtilly @jjkjbhj @clairacassidy @valeskafics @perla434 @selenestar78 @urmomsgirlfriend1 @urfavnoirette @randomstory56 @qardasngan @https-luvvia @im-the-fucking-lunar-prince @bryandechartisasmolbean

Vikings Taglist: @fleureeee @ellabellabus07 @youn-jo @batmandallyboy @retro-baby69 @lenasdmns @thelirofnorthlands @tessakate @hypocritic-trash-baby @ringpopdust @bellroclucky03 @thefirebreather00 @sashadevil766 @eldritch-bunny-teeth @re-per @weasleytwins-41 @daughter-ofthe-forest @dreamspirit666 @sununicorn @vlynccx @goldenheart703

Series taglist: @chimtaesty-main @fan-goddess @finannn @paninibit @fleureeee @ellabellabus07 @obviouslyitsriley @jasontoddorjasongrace @cathattery @daenaera-t

[beom-pyu]

truth or drink! (couples edition): choi yeonjun

based off those truth or drink videos by cut on yt! who's next?

other parts: beomgyu & taehyun "my ex + my boyfriend edition" soobin "engaged edition" kai "blind date edition"

nsfw! (minors dni.)

welcome to truth or drink! couples will ask each other a set of random questions. they can either answer the question or take a shot.

“hi, i’m y/n.”

“and i’m yeonjun.”

how long have you guys been together?

YOU: “nine months.”

YJ: “nine months, really? i thought it was already a year.”

YOU: “that friends with benefits stage doesn’t count, i think.”

YJ: “ohhh, okay, okay.”

how did you meet?

YOU: “we had a class together in our freshman year of college and i thought he was sexy.”

YJ: “that’s it? you weren’t like attracted to my kind nature and generosity?”

YOU: “no, you just looked like you had good dick.”

yeonjun shrugs at the camera, a small smile on his lips.

YEONJUN: what’s the worst thing you’ve ever said about me to your friends?

you immediately reach for the bottle of fireball, pouring your shot glass to the very top. yeonjun glances at you, to the camera, and back to you, a disbelieving puff of laughter leaving his lips.

YJ: “was it that bad?”

YOU: “you used to be an asshole, jun.”

YJ: “...okay, fair.”

YOU: when was the last time you masturbated, and where was i?

YJ: “this morning. and you were right next to me.”

YOU: “why didn’t you wake me up?”

YJ: “you’re like the devil reincarnated in the morning.”

YOU: “i thought you were into that?”

YJ: “...”

you smile as yeonjun quickly pours himself a shot.

YEONJUN: what’s the craziest thing you’ve ever done sexually with an ex?

YOU: “pour me a shot.”

YJ: “no, no, i actually wanna hear this.”

YOU: “oh my god. uh—okay. i fucked one of my exes with a 10 inch tentacle dildo.”

…

YJ: “can we try this sometime?”

YOU: “yeonjun.”

YOU: if i was put in a coma, how long would you wait for me?

YJ: “at least a good… year? maybe two.”

YOU: “wow… you wouldn’t wait an eternity for me? am i not the love of your life?”

YJ: “hell no. you run up my wifi bill.”

YEONJUN: when was the last time you faked an orgasm and why?

YOU: “i've never faked one.”

YJ: “you heard it here, folks.”

YOU: what would you think if you caught me watching porn?

YJ: “without me?”

YOU: “he’s actually said this before.”

YJ: “what if it was me?”

YOU: “‘again?’”

YJ: “okay, next question.”

YEONJUN: if our sex life was a porn genre, what would it be?

YOU: “dominatrix meets pegging meets cuckhold meets—”

YJ: “none of this is true by the way.”

you give him a pointed look

YJ: “some of it is true.”

YOU: have you ever had a crush on any of my friends before we started dating?

YJ: “you never brought me around your friends!”

YOU: “i’m pretty sure i did, like once or twice. it would’ve been awkward 'cause they knew we were fucking.”

YJ: “i brought you around my friends and they knew—wait, did you have a crush on any of my friends?”

YOU: “...pour me another shot, please.”

YEONJUN: name two celebrities you’d want to have sex with if we weren’t together.

you immediately take a shot.

YJ: “woah, wait why?”

YOU: “because i’d like a peaceful drive home.”

YOU: how many sexual partners have you had?

YJ: “maybe like… seven. eight?”

YOU: “you’re lying.”

YJ: “i’m not! do you think i’m a whore?”

YOU: “well, i’m dating you, so yes.”

YEONJUN: have you ever thought about cheating on me?

YOU: “you already know, but i’m taking a shot.”

YJ: “this is actually a funny story. so, there’s this guy named soobin—”

YOU: “okay, slow down—”

YJ: “and y/n didn’t cheat, but they asked if we could have a threesome—”

YOU: “we did have the threesome, by the way.”

YJ: “yes, we did.”

YOU: “we should call him later.”

YJ: “nah, i think we scared him off for good.”

YOU: have you ever considered having an open relationship?

YJ: “surprisingly, no. this is probably the first stable relationship i’ve ever been in and i don’t have any intentions on being with someone else right now.”

YOU: “agreed.”

YJ: “you’re all mine, baby.”

YOU: “...can i take a shot, just for that?”

YJ: “shut up, you love it.”

YEONJUN: what’s the one thing you would change about me?

YOU: “hm… well, you do get super defensive about the littlest things.”

YJ: “i do not! what the hell?”

you deadpan the camera.

YOU: what’s my biggest flaw?

YJ: “you’re like a borderline workaholic.”

YOU: “i agree with that.”

YJ: “and me?”

YOU: “hm… you’re very, very forgetful.”

YJ: “i’m like dory.”

YOU: “yea, except dory is actually cute.”

…

YJ: “is the video almost over?”

YEONJUN: what’s your favorite thing about me?

YOU: “you always manage to make me feel safe and loved, even when my confidence is really low.”

YJ: “woah… i thought you were gonna say my stroke game or something.”

YOU: “i mean… that too.”

YOU: why do you love me?

YJ: “who said i love you?”

YOU: “cut the cameras.”

YJ: “i’m kidding, i’m kidding. um, well i feel like i always have? like we’ve been friends for so long, but no one has ever made me feel the way you do. i’ve never been happier… like i’m my true self around you, and i know i can be because you’d never judge me for that, yknow?”

YOU: “awe. guys, i’m gonna cry.”

YJ: “they’re actually crying, look. zoom in.”

YOU: “and that’s a wrap! thank you for watching this video! don’t forget to like and subscr—”

masterlist

©️BEOM-PYU

[high-dragon-bait]

Taash asks my Rook invasive questions about her Zuko scar

This is Francesca de Riva, Cissy for short, my secondary Rook

It's pretty rare that I write fake banter between canon characters and my own OCs, but I did between Cissy and Taash for how Cissy got her scars. Enjoy!

____

(During recruitment)

Taash: Have any of you fought a dragon before? 

Cissy: How do you think I got these burns? 

Taash: Not from a dragon? 

Cissy: See that’s where you’re wrong- 

Taash: I’m not.  

Cissy: C’mon, let me tell the story! 

Taash: But your story’s bullshit. 

Cissy: I haven’t told it yet. 

Taash: Don’t need to. You get caught in dragon fire and you don’t have skin to scar.  

Cissy: Oh, so you’re the expert on dragon burns now? 

Taash: Yeah?

——

(From here on is post-recruitment)

Taash: So what actually happened to your face? 

(Second companion dependent) 

Neve: There are subtler ways of getting information. 

Emmrich: Taash!

Harding: Okay! Probably were nicer ways to say that. 

Lucanis: Up front. I like it. Saves time. 

Davrin: I’ve met Darkspawn with more tact than you, Taash. 

Bellara: You don’t actually have to say if you don’t want to, Rook! 

Cissy: I burned it. 

Taash: Yeah but how? 

Cissy: With fire. 

Taash: Is it embarrassing? Did you like slip and fall face first onto a stove? 

Cissy: No, that would’ve been funny. 

Taash: So it’s not funny? 

Cissy: No. 

——

Taash: Bellara said I should say sorry for asking about your face. So, sorry. 

Bellara, if present: You know, sorries don’t sound as good if you say someone else told you to say them first…

Cissy: It’s alright, I actually don’t mind talking about it. 

Taash: It kinda seemed like you did. 

Cissy: No, no, it just always makes people get weird. 

Taash: I won’t get weird. 

Cissy, through laughter: I’ll think about it. 

——

Cissy: Someone set me on fire. 

Taash: Shit was it me?

Cissy: No, Taash, I’m talking about my face. 

Taash: Oh! How? 

Cissy: A guy took me off the street, poured whiskey all over me, and then set me on fire. 

Taash: Wh- Why’d he do that? 

Cissy: I don’t know. I was seven. Thought I was minding my urchin business. Guess he was bored. 

Emmrich: Filth.

Neve: No motive. Just cruelty. Wish I could say it was rare. 

Davrin: Guy sets little girls on fire as a hobby, yeah, even the wardens wouldn’t want him. 

Spite: I’ll burn his face. Peel it off first!

Harding: Varric never… That’s what happened? 

Bellara: Wait- I didn’t- I’m so sorry. 

Cissy: See? People get weird! 

Taash: It’s a weird fucking thing to do! 

——

Taash: So how’d you get away? 

Cissy: Shit did I look that bad? Don’t tell Viago-

Taash: No from the fire asshole. 

Cissy: Oh! I ran. 

Taash: While you were on fire? 

Cissy: First thing I did was jump in the canal to put it out but then I nearly drowned. Didn’t obviously but then I got sepsis. 

Taash: Damn, you weren’t kidding. This story really isn’t funny.  

Cissy: I told you. 

Taash: So how’d you not die?

Cissy: Viago found me. 

——

Cissy: The way Viago found me is a little funny. 

Taash: Yeah?

Cissy: I’d been in the gutter for days at that point. Couldn’t move so I just marinated in my own filth and rot the whole time. 

Taash: That isn’t funny. 

Cissy: I’m not done! 

Taash: Okay. 

Cissy: I was lying on a little bit of stone by the water and its like a full storey down from the actual walkway. 

Cissy: The only reason he noticed me was because I smelled so bad he got a whiff from all the way up there and thought I was badly disposed a corpse. 

Taash: That… still isn’t funny. 

Cissy: Oh come on, it's a little funny. 

——

Taash: Whatever happened to the fire asshole? 

Cissy: I don’t actually know. I wanted him to be my first contract, cliche that that is, but Viago said no. 

Taash: Why’d he say no? 

Cissy: He said a man like that would be “An insult to my skill” and because he trained me that makes it an insult to his skill. 

Taash: Why’s that matter? Killing is killing. 

Cissy: Not if you’re a crow. 

[highdramas]

you’re the only friend i need | s.h.

pairing: steve harrington x f!reader warnings: language word count: 4664 summary: having steve harrington as a fake boyfriend proves to have more pros than cons, all things considered. the biggest pro is one that you didn’t even realize until you were in the thick of your fake relationship. notes: if you are under 18 do not interact with my work or this fic. this fic is a continuation off of this request, which is a to all the boy i’ve loved before based steve drabble, and will make a lot more sense if you’ve read that first! ty for reading and enjoying ily alllllll

having a boyfriend, even if steve was your fake boyfriend, was like a set of constantly evolving circumstances that you never quite knew how to get used to.

the strangest part of it all was the dates.

your one real relationship never even offered the option of dates. with ryan, he had wanted to keep things so secretive... the extent of your “dates” was him sneaking in through your bedroom window and making out on top of the covers. but steve...

steve hadn’t been lying when he told you that if you two were going to be in a fake relationship, he was going to make it worth your while.

within the first week of your arrangement, steve had come to you with a list and furrowed brows. you’d barely gotten into his car before he was examining the list one last time and passing it to you. “okay, these are the ideas i came up with. i know what telling you removes some of the magic, but--”

you both say at the same time, “not real.”

“yeah, so... figured you could take a look at the list, tell me what you’ve already done, and we can skip those. whatever you did with ryan, you know--”

skimming the list, you shrug your shoulders. “i don’t know if we did any of these,” you admit, looking up at steve. “i don’t think that ryan would’ve even been able to come up with a list like this if you put a gun to his head.”

steve scoffs. “well, yeah, ‘course not, because he’s not me. but, not even a fraction? i mean... did he take you to dinner?”

you shake your head.

“ice cream?”

another shake.

“what, the movies? i mean, i’m not even listing off any of the creative things--”

“no, steve!” you exclaim, tossing the list back over to him. “no, he didn’t buy me dinner, or dessert, or take me to the movies! he didn’t do anything, that’s kind of the point.”

a hush falls over the car, and you’ve never felt awkward around steve before-- well, not in the last week, not when you started to really get to know him-- but you feel a little awkward now in his bmw, rubbing your hands on your jeans and wishing that you could just disappear. if you disappeared, maybe you wouldn’t have to deal with this mortification that was settling in your chest. just how pathetic you feel having said everything out loud.

it’s as if steve can see the gears in your head turning, can see you turning in on yourself. “hey, hey...” he turns the key and the car turns off. he unbuckles his seatbelt-- one thing that had surprised you about steve was how safe of a driver he was and how much of a stickler he was when it came to seatbelts and general car safety-- and shifts his body towards you. “i didn’t mean to embarrass you, or make you feel bad.”

“you didn’t embarrass me.”

“regardless,” steve reaches out for your hand, and you think about it for a moment, how you might feel like you gain the upper hand by refusing his, but you eventually relent and take it. your pride isn’t worth more than the comfort that steve provides, even with a simple touch. “i’m sorry.” his hand squeezes yours and his thumb draws a pattern over the back of his hand. it’s these moments where things feel so damn confusing, where your brain knows that this is all fake, but your heart can’t seem to parse the difference. “and, for the record... i know i’ve said it before, but he’s the one who should be embarrassed. i didn’t feel one way or another about him before, but he’s a total dick.”

anyone else and you may believe that they were just telling you what you wanted to hear. but steve has always had this knack about him, and maybe it’s only with you, but you simply don’t believe that he would keep things from you. that he’d be anything but perfectly genuine. maybe that’s naive, maybe that framework of thought will get you hurt one day.

you’re willing to find out.

˚ ༘♡ ·˚ ₊˚ˑ༄ؘ ˚ ༘♡ ·˚ ₊˚ˑ༄ؘ ˚ ༘♡ ·˚ ₊˚ˑ༄ؘ ˚ ༘♡ ·˚ ₊˚ˑ༄ؘ ˚ ༘♡ ·˚ ₊˚ˑ༄ؘ ˚ ༘♡ ·˚ ₊˚ˑ༄ؘ ˚ ༘♡ ·˚ ₊

steve creates a schedule for your dates. a schedule.

upon the reveal of how little you’d truly been treated in the past, he had quickly snatched the list back up, folded it up nice and neatly, and tucked it away into his pocket. he’d cited that now everything was going to be a surprise.

you go on a date with steve every tuesday and friday. and, at some point, that bled in to saturday’s and sunday’s, too.

(at some point, you end up realizing that you spend more time with steve than without him.)

˚ ༘♡ ·˚ ₊˚ˑ༄ؘ ˚ ༘♡ ·˚ ₊˚ˑ༄ؘ ˚ ༘♡ ·˚ ₊˚ˑ༄ؘ ˚ ༘♡ ·˚ ₊˚ˑ༄ؘ ˚ ༘♡ ·˚ ₊˚ˑ༄ؘ ˚ ༘♡ ·˚ ₊˚ˑ༄ؘ ˚ ༘♡ ·˚ ₊

DATE IDEA 17: CAMPING

“you really thought that camping would be good for our first fake-date that’s not, like, dinner and a movie?”

steve closes the trunk and slings the tent bag over his shoulder. “i don’t know what you’re talking about. this is still a great idea.”

“isn’t part of the point of all of this is for people to, you know, see us?” you make a dramatic show of looking around, using your hand as a temporary visor, searching high and low for any soul who may feast their eyes upon you with steve harrington. “i don’t see anyone.”

taking a step closer to you, nearly chest to chest, steve peers down at you. “no one’s gonna believe us as a couple if we don’t seem comfortable around each other,” he turns around and trudges towards the plot of land that the camp host had directed you to. “what better way to become comfortable than to share a tent in the middle of nowhere?”

you roll your eyes but follow behind him. he guides you towards the little picnic bench and encourages you to sit on it. “what are you doing?”

“what do you mean?” steve shrugs and grabs a coke from the cooler and hands it to you. “i’m having you sit down while i unpack the car and get the tent set up.”

“but...” your head tilts to the side like there’s a thought bubble forming over your head, trying to understand him. “don’t you want me to help?”

“nope.”

“you don’t want me to help at all?”

“no. not even a little bit.” there’s a cheeky smile on his face. “i want you to sit back, relax, and enjoy the view. maybe if you’re lucky i’ll get a little sweaty.”

you scoff and huff and make to stand up, but steve’s hands go firmly to your shoulders. “i’m serious. let me take care of it. can you do that?” he touches your chin, just the faintest brush of his index finger against it, but it’s practically a lightning strike. when you nod your head, he smiles. there’s something proud there. “good.”

for the record, he does sweat a little bit. and you don’t know what it means that you kinda... like it.

by the time that tent is up, the sleeping bags are rolled out, and the pillows are fluffed, it’s already dusk. steve has built a decent sized fire and has dragged a large log to it, patting his thigh. “c’mon.”

walking up to him, you open your mouth, trying to decide if he’s implying what you think he is. he takes you by the hand and guides you to perch on his thigh, maneuvers your arm to drape across his shoulders. “comfortable?” you nod your head and he pats your leg, the motion far too easy and affectionate for you to brush off. “fuckin’ pretty out here, isn’t it?”

looking around, you can’t help but nod. “it is really pretty. have you been here before?”

“we used to come here every summer. me and my folks, and a few other neighborhood families. it was my favorite part of the summer, every summer. i always wanted to bring someone here.” he squeezes you a little bit. “you should feel honored.”

“i do, actually,” you say to him, and you mean it, deeply from the bottom of your heart. “thanks for bringing me here. and for getting all of this set up, it’s...” you look around, but despite the beauty around, your eyes want nothing more than to settle on steve’s face and stay there. “magical.”

“thanks for letting your fake boyfriend take you out into the woods. with no showers.”

your jaw drops. “you didn’t say--”

his laughter drowns out anything else, his forehead falling to the side of your arm.

you stay out at the fire together until the bugs force you into the tent. slightly chilled from that summer evening cold that serves as a nice break from the heat, you rub your hands over your arms. “cold?” steve asks. before you can even fully nod your head he’s unzipping his duffel and tossing his sweatshirt in your direction. “here.”

looking down at it, your thumb runs along the worn material. you’ve seen him wear it a million times since you’ve known him.

his favorite sweatshirt.

you tug it on over your shirt, and before you can think to open your own bag, there’s a pair of sweatpants in front of you. “steve,” you begin slowly. “you realize i brought my own clothes, right? is this you saying you hate the way i dress? even my pajamas?”

“what? no.” steve shakes his head and begins to shuffle into his own pajamas, and your eye gets caught on the strong chest with the beautiful smattering of dark chest hair. he catches your gaze and smirks a little but doesn’t comment on it, tugging a clean shirt on. “i just...” he shrugs and starts to get into his sleeping bag. “i dunno, you in my clothes is definitely not the worst thing in the world.”

there’s nothing you have to say to that which won’t end in you being a stammering, blushing mess, so you opt for saying nothing. you get into your own sleeping bag and you’ve just clicked off the solar powered light when steve says, “comfortable? warm? need anything?”

“steve,” you place your hand on his chest. “you know that you’re supposed to enjoy our dates too, right? you can’t enjoy them if you’re constantly making sure that i’m enjoying them.”

it’s as if he hadn’t even considered this. as if his entire focus was on you and your happiness. “sorry. i’m not trying to be weird, or make you feel weird.” he rolls over onto his side, nearly nose to nose. “it just pisses me off.”

“what does?”

“that no one ever thought that maybe you would want to do these things. it’s just ridiculous to me.” he licks his lips and his hand flexes. “i won’t keep bringing it up, because i’m sure that’s just as annoying, i just... i want you to feel special. really.”

something melts inside you. “you make me feel very special. really.”

the two of you fall asleep like that, alongside the hum of the bugs and the sound of a lake lapping against the shore.

at some point in the night, steve has taken your hand between his own. fingers laced, the back of it is brought right up to his mouth, as though he fell asleep just after pressing a kiss to it. when you wake up to a screaming baby four campsites down, you don’t make any effort to move it.

˚ ༘♡ ·˚ ₊˚ˑ༄ؘ ˚ ༘♡ ·˚ ₊˚ˑ༄ؘ ˚ ༘♡ ·˚ ₊˚ˑ༄ؘ ˚ ༘♡ ·˚ ₊˚ˑ༄ؘ ˚ ༘♡ ·˚ ₊˚ˑ༄ؘ ˚ ༘♡ ·˚ ₊˚ˑ༄ؘ ˚ ༘♡ ·˚ ₊

DATE IDEA 5: DRIVE IN MOVIE

when steve came to your front door to pick you up for a saturday night date, confusion instantly rattled you. “where’s the beemer?”

“oh, that thing? yeah, that thing simply wouldn’t do for what i have planned for us tonight.”

you look at him with a slightly puzzled expression. “but it worked just fine for camping? do you forget the part where we got stuck coming back--”

“yeah, well,” he wraps his arm around your shoulders. “we didn’t get stuck on the way there did we?” you shake your head. “and i figured that i’d learn from my mistakes.”

sticking his opposite arm out, he gestures to the pickup truck before you. “boom. i basically had to beg my dad to drive it, and i told him i’d clean the garage until it’s spotless, but... we’ve got ourselves a truck.”

“what the hell do we need a truck for? are we going mudding?”

“i think the country folk call it muddin’. but, no.” he turns to you and runs his hand through your hair, saying, “double feature. ferris bueller and back to the future. i made sure we went on a night where they weren’t playing anything scary.” the fondness in your chest opens up and threatens to swallow both you and steve whole with the sheer magnitude of it. “sound good?”

“sounds perfect, stevie.”

steve makes sure you leave early enough to get a good spot and to have enough time to go to concessions. practically all of the hawkins class of 1985 seemed to have the same idea as he did. and all of their eyes are on the two of you. they watch as steve sets up the bed of his dad’s truck, filled with big cozy blankets and fluffy pillows. you catch steve’s gaze and he raises his brows at you, as if to say-- see? knew this would work.

maybe you should’ve trusted him, because, yes-- ryan is here with his new girlfriend, and their eyes have scarcely left you or steve since you arrived two rows ahead of them.

guiding you towards the concessions, steve bends down to press a kiss against your head. with his lips against your ear, he adds, “don’t worry about them, alright? it’s just you and me.”

once in line, steve looks around and spots ryan a few people behind you two in line. you follow his gaze and you swallow but he’s already caught the movement, already caught your chin and tipped it up to look at him. “hey. what’d i say? just you and me.” your mouth falls open as his thumb rubs against your chin and then he’s bending down, once again at your ear. “can i kiss you?”

it’s all an act, it’s all an act, it’s all an act-- your brain can’t stop screaming this clarification but your heart is hammering in your chest anyway, like a running wild horse that’s never been contained by anything, least of all a ribcage, a body. you nod your head but he tuts. “words. i wanna hear it.”

“yes--”

that’s all he needed. he sweeps your hair back with a hand, the other one a steadying point on your face. he brings his lips to yours and you don’t know how he’s so good at this. so good at pretending.

because it isn’t fake when you grip at his shirt, when you lean up onto your toes to get closer to him. the way that you sigh into the kiss, an involuntary comfort at your lips on his, isn’t fake at all. the warmth that spreads all over your face when he nips at your bottom lip, that is the least fake of all of it.

it is all so painfully real to you, and it’s scary. but not scary enough to get you to stop, not now and maybe not ever. maybe you’ll be okay being steve harrington’s fake girlfriend until he gets sick of you, if it feels this good, this real.

“hey, lovebirds-- you’re gonna lose your spot in line.”

at least five people have already gotten their sodas and candy while you two have been lost in each other. you half expect steve to wear some sort of cocky grin, be proud of himself, a smirk at the fact that he just claimed you as his in front of all these people. but that machismo doesn’t exist in him. all he does is touch your cheek, tuck you into his side, and move the several paces in line.

“was that alright?” he asks you, hushed enough to know that the words are just for you. “too much?”

looking over your shoulder, you see ryan with his hands in his pockets, eyes immediately darting away from yours when your gaze settles on him. but it doesn’t fill you with the sensation of pleasure that you expected it too. in fact, you don’t feel much at all. your head is too busy reeling from steve’s kiss.

“i think it was just enough,” you murmur. you settle your cheek against his chest and his hand goes to your head, massaging at your scalp. “you’re spoiling me. i’m gonna get way too used to this, and then be disappointed when i’m not always getting scalp massages.”

steve scoffs. “nah. this should just be a way to rule out duds.” as if to prove his point, his finger tips lower to the base of your neck, working the muscles just right. “any guy who doesn’t do this can be chucked in the trash.”

“you’ve done this for all the girls you’ve dated? for nancy?”

shrugging, he pauses, as if thinking about it. “not always. i mean, i was kinda a dick in high school. i may be capable of being a good boyfriend now, but i wasn’t always, i guess.”

“dicks don’t give their girlfriends head massages?”

“definitely not.” steve smirks a little and kisses your forehead. “i like to think that i’ve matured. that i’ve grown into the kind of man who gives head massages.”

rubbing your hand up and down his back, you nod your head. “i think any girl is lucky to have you, stevie. head massages and all.”

by the time that you get back with your popcorn, your diet coke and your nerds, the sun has fallen below the horizon. fireflies flicker off in the distance, the chatter of everyone around you the backdrop to your evening. steve, getting beneath the blankets, opens it up to offer you a spot. with a grin wider than it ought to be you climb in beside him. settling against him, your cheek once again resting against that strong chest, shouldn’t be so simple. so easy, but it is.

you like the feeling of steve’s laughter against your cheek, the rumble of his chest. it makes you laugh even more. you like how he twitches beneath you when your hand rests on his stomach, your pinky finger slipping under the material of his shirt. you like the way that his fingers continue to card through your hair, sometimes switching to rub your back, your arm. you like how no one can see you in the confines of the truck bed, but he doesn’t seem to care. he treats you just the same, dotes on you just the same as if a thousand sets of eyes were on you.

you realize then that you need to come to terms with the fact that you like a lot about steve. most things, even.

˚ ༘♡ ·˚ ₊˚ˑ༄ؘ ˚ ༘♡ ·˚ ₊˚ˑ༄ؘ ˚ ༘♡ ·˚ ₊˚ˑ༄ؘ ˚ ༘♡ ·˚ ₊˚ˑ༄ؘ ˚ ༘♡ ·˚ ₊˚ˑ༄ؘ ˚ ༘♡ ·˚ ₊˚ˑ༄ؘ ˚ ༘♡ ·˚ ₊

DATE IDEA 20

you. me. pick you up from work.

when you had finally finished your opening tasks for the book shop, that was when you noticed the note that had been left in your bag for you to find. and even though you had no idea what steve had planned, you knew this-- you’d done everything from go camping to stargazed at lovers lake, from a picnic in the park to going to the arcade. and everything you did together, you enjoyed. thoroughly.

all day while you check out people’s books and offer your own recommendations, all you can envision is hopping into steve’s car and driving off into the sunset and whatever it is that he has planned for the two of you.

you’re so lost in this thought process, in fact, that you hardly notice who exactly it is dropping the pile of bodice rippers onto the counter. prepared to see a horny mom of one of your classmates, imagine your surprise at who you really see.

“i kinda get the appeal,” steve says, examining the cover of a lisa kleypas novel. “i mean, this guy... he has awesome hair.”

he shakes the novel at you slightly and you snatch it from him with a tentative smile on your face. “you just like him because he looks like you.”

“who said that? not me. you said that.” he cocks his head to the side. “well, hopefully you like how he looks, because all of these are for you.” he pats the stack with pride. “i went through your collection and made sure that i didn’t grab any duplicates. i also asked the librarian for a copy of what you’ve checked out recently. so everything should be fresh.” he pauses. “why are you looking at me like that? anyway-- and don’t use your employee discount, i’m not cheap.”

slowly you start to punch in the prices, watching him all the while. “steve--” you slow yourself for a moment and look him in the eye. “you went to the librarian?”

“uh, yeah. i mean, what kind of loser would i look like buying you books you’ve already read?” steve grins. “c’mon-- you ready to get out of here?”

one hand in steve’s and the other clutching the stack of books, you slide into steve’s car, thank him for opening the door for you. “i don’t get it,” you say once he’s slid in next to you. “this is a date?”

“yeah,” he nods his head. “you’re gonna read one of your new books. i’m gonna watch the game tonight. and we’re just going to... you know, spend time with one another. cook dinner. be normal.” he pauses. “i picked up moose tracks ice cream, too. sounds like a date to me.” he glances out the window. “i know it’s not super flashy or anything, but, you know-- i dunno, a date can just be coexisting around the person that you like. maybe that’s stupid.”

“no! steve... no. that’s not stupid at all.” you tap his hand that rests on the steering wheel, coaxing him to look at you. “i think that’s actually... really sweet. you’re giving me a taste of what a real relationship is like.”

something fractures inside of him and you can see it as it happens, but you’re not quite sure how to decipher it. “’course. that’s what i’m here for.” he reaches across and ruffles your hair which makes you giggle and settle back against the seat.

since you and steve began your ruse, you’d only been to the harrington home a handful of times. almost every time you spent time together, if you weren’t out doing something, you were at your house. your parents doted upon and adored steve, and made it very clear to both him and you that they approved of this union. you silently wished that you didn’t have to bring your families into all of this. it would make everything much more confusing and difficult when it inevitably ended at the end of the summer, once both you and steve have gotten what you wanted out of your endeavor. but it’s the harrington house that comes into view now, and steve seems to sense your surprise. “parents are out of town. another conference.”

“oh.” he puts the car into park but doesn’t make a move to get out yet. you clutch the books a little bit closer to your chest. there’s something written all over his chest as he peers at his childhood home. “i really hate living here still, you know?”

“how come?”

on the outside, the harrington family was perfect. two parents still together and one son, basketball star and stand up guy. but you knew what the reality was. the state of steve’s parents marriage and steve’s own insecurities weren’t lost on you.

“my dad,” he hisses out a sigh and his head thunks against the headrest. “you know, i don’t have regrets about not going to college. would i have worked a little bit harder on my grades a little earlier? probably. but i know that i’m not dumb, or a bad person because i’m not going. and i know that i can still go! and--” he looks over at you where you’ve already opened your mouth. “no, no, don’t. i know what you’re going to say, and i know that, alright? i know the stuff you’re going to say. and i appreciate it.” he looks back to the house and shrugs his shoulders. “i know that you’re going to say that i shouldn’t care what he thinks, or that he doesn’t know what he’s talking about. and, realistically, i know that. but... he’s my dad. shouldn’t he know what he’s talking about when it comes to me?”

you press your lips into a line while he carries on. “i just... i just want to make them proud, i guess. haven’t heard that in a long time.” he looks over at you. “i’m not really setting the mood for a nice date, am i?”

shaking your head, you wrap your hand around his wrist, slinking down to his hand to slot your fingers together. “i don’t care about that,” you say easily. “i’m glad that you’re talking to me about stuff. real stuff.”

“yeah, well...” he rubs his nose. “for the record, if your dad was a piece of shit, i’d listen. or... any of your problems, or fears, or anything. i’d listen.” he levels you with a slight upturn of his mouth. “you may be my fake girlfriend, but you’re also my friend now. one of my closest friends.”

maybe that’s the lesson in all of this. yes, you were sad that you felt rejected and neglected when ryan was your secret boyfriend, but... maybe what you had really wanted was a friend. a true friend.

and steve harrington was the truest kind of friend around.

it only made your heart tumble nearer towards loving him truly and completely.

you spend the night doing exactly what he laid out. you read the book with the model that looked eerily similar to steve on the cover, and secretly, you imagined him as your rakish hero the whole time. steve sat on the couch and watched the basketball game, and every once in awhile, you’d get distracted from your book and simply watch him. it’s easy to watch him from this position: your head in his lap. it gives you the perfect view.

you cook spaghetti together and you eat every last bite. you eat the moose tracks ice cream together, after your book is put away and his game is long ago, his favorite team losing. and you decide if this is what every weekday date night could be like with steve, that whoever ends up with him might just be the luckiest girl in the world.

there’s a hope that bubbles in you that maybe, in one of the alternate universes out there, you’re that girl. none of this is fake and steve’s your boyfriend for real, and he loves you.

but when he looks at you and swipes a bit of chocolate away from the corner of your mouth, you think that maybe he loves you in this universe, too. maybe.

[cursingtoji]

❛ 𝑾𝒉𝒂𝒕 𝑯𝒂𝒑𝒑𝒆𝒏𝒆𝒅 𝒕𝒐 𝑼𝒔? ❜┊parting ways with Gojo then finding each other again. wc 1.5k┊The Clichés ™ ┊request

Megumi watched as you disappeared into an empty classroom sniffing with your head down and he knew better than to meddle in his sensei's private lives, but he couldn’t help himself, being so fond of you.

Ten years ago you were in his life pretty much everyday, the first day you introduced yourself as “Satoru’s friend”.

"I think I'll see you a lot. Between us, I don’t trust he’ll do a good job taking care of you and your sister.”

And you did everything, including showing up at his PTA meetings and to the director’s office when he got in trouble.

“I’m tired of coming up with stories of how i’ve become your guardian, from now on i’ll just let them believe i’m your teen mom” he remembers that conversation like it happened yesterday, he was eight.

“You would’ve been pregnant at 12” Gojo reminded.

“I had my period at 11, so it checks.”

“Please stop talking” Megumi asked sitting on Gojo’s shoulders after you both showed up to his school, being called because he fell and scratched his knee.

“Gojo-sensei? I think there’s something you need to deal with” Megumi called Gojo and pointed to the door he saw you entering.

Megumi never understood what happened, he never asked either, one day you just stopped being his… guardian. Behind the weird humor, he saw Gojo was shaken too, being a kid he didn’t know for sure if you were dating, but the fact Gojo never dated anyone makes he thinks at some point during the time you were part of his life you two started to date but then broke up, he only saw you again when he entered Jujustu High, a couple months ago.

Gojo looked to where Megumi was pointing, knowing the room as the classroom from when he was a student alongside you. The sensei put his hand on his protegee's head, a silent gesture of "thank you, I got this."

When Satoru entered the room he saw you sitting by the window, hugging your legs and looking far away. You didn't move your head even though you heard him entering, he knew you did, but he would be lying if he said your indifference didn't hurt him a bit.

Satoru thought about how small you looked. Since your young days, he grew a few more inches, not too much, but enough to assume a more adult aspect. Meanwhile, you still looked the same girl he teased and joked with. Only now, your eyes felt heavier, like you were tired of carrying all the piled up frustrations.

"You might be the only person who's safe place it's their old classroom" he slid the door shut. The room was dark, it was around sunset time but the day had been cloudy so instead of a warm orange glow, the room where Satoru was scolded so many times felt gloomy and shadowy. You turned your face to him, head rested on your knees.

"I don't get it, Satoru. What else am I supposed to do?" you sighed, remembering the nth meeting you had where you didn't get the promotion you wanted so much. Gojo walked to his old seat, putting his long legs up on the table.

Years ago, he wasn't sure of the consequences of having you tagging along his journey of adopting Megumi. It's not like he asked you to. He was too proud to ask for help, but you helped anyways, and he let you. He allowed you to help raise a kid that was taken away (even though he paid for it) from his blood relatives, simply the most influential clan of the jujutsu world. Satoru was too naive to think there would be no consequences.

Well, for him, there was none.

But the Z'enin elders directed their attention to you, someone that wasn't from any strong clan, or nearly as powerful as Gojo. In the beginning, you thought it was just a coincidence that they were only sending you in easy missions, dealing with low-level curses that any grade 4 sorcerer could handle. After two years, Gojo realized it was purposeful. They were punishing you for taking part in driving Megumi away from whatever their plans with him were.

And when you had no experience to justify being upgraded, you would be stuck being a level 3 for god knows how long. Gojo had to make a decision, he tried to tell you what was going on, indirectly blaming Megumi as the cause of your career plateau, he didn't expect you to flip like you did. In fact, you blamed him, Satoru himself, he was the one taking all the high ranked curses, being the strongest and outshining everyone else.

"That's why Nanami left, y'know? What's the point of staying if only the great Gojo Satoru is capable of saving people and killing monsters?"

Of course that was all frustration talking, but he didn't know any better and he fought back, accusing you of playing house with him and Megumi and neglecting your own skills and training.

"You became weak, that's why you'll never be a grade one."

Such strong words, coming from the strongest, followed you even after you ran away for the next few years, barely saying goodbye to the kid you got so attached to. You had to prove you could be strong, become a grade one then Megumi would be proud of having not one but two strong guardians, yet you failed to realize this search for power actually drove you away from him. Once you came back, your boy was taller than you, naturally more talented too, of course he was, he had the ten shadows, Satoru had the six eyes... and what did you have?

Even after all these years, sweet blood and tears, you were not even a grade 2, but a semi-grade 2. Gojo was well aware of whose fault it was: the elder's and a little bit of his too.

"I'm sorry" he said looking at the empty blackboard, the blindfold didn't allow you to see the sentiment in his eyes.

"What happened to us?" you murmured.

There were very few things Gojo regretted more than his words that day. If he kept his mouth shut, maybe you two would be married by now. Like he dreamed when he was nothing more than a teen.

Clearly, he wasn't happy either. Back then, he delusioned himself into thinking that having you away was for the best, that you would be off the radar and given better opportunities.

Satoru turned to you, raising from his seat and taking the space behind you, placing one leg up the window frame beside you and letting his other touch the floor on your other side, he didn't touch but you couldn't resist the proximity and leaned back on him, resting your head on his chest.

"Nanami returned, did you see him?" Gojo inquired, wanting to be with you in his space forever.

"Not yet, Utahime told me though" you confessed, not telling him the part where you cried like a baby the night she told you that, remembering how you used your former classmate against Satoru, to prove a point you didn't even truly believed in, and now he was back, it only served to prove you wrong and immature.

"And there's Maki too" he reminded, "You two are in a similar situation, she could use some help."

"Out of all people I'm the least—"

"Let me stop you there, sweets" the old nickname gave you butterflies, Gojo took your chin, making you look up at him, "It won't be easy but I think I can convince those old farts to make you a teacher too, that way you can help her and... be close to Megumi" you thought about becoming a teacher before, but it would be nearly impossible given your current grade.

"I dont think they're gonna let me," you exhaled.

"Don't you trust my incredible looks and influence?" he tapped your nose and for the first time that day you cracked a smile.

"Sure, give them your worst, 'Toru" the nickname escaped your lips without a thought. Felt so right, being in his arms, calling each other pet names, planning for the future…

"It's not too late for us to start over" he cupped your cheeks.

Is it not? Megumi was entering a new phase, one you could be more actively a part of; there was a new Z'enin that needed assistance too and even if you were not given recognition for it, you were stronger... Was it too delusional to think you had a new chance?

"Okay, Toru."

Also part of the Clichés event:

╭── ⋅ ⋅ ── ✩ ── ⋅ ⋅ ──╮

Tattoo artist!Choso

Morning sex — Toji

Bodyguard!Nanami

╰── ⋅ ⋅ ── ✩ ── ⋅ ⋅ ──╯

[xoxochb]

hiii!! first time doing a request so i apologize if im doing it weird😓

could u please do a leo x reader angst?? but then make it better in the end😇 sorry if that’s vague i truly don’t know what else to say

ty and please take ur time!

⋆·˚ ༘ * leaving me bereft and reeling

warnings: angst (with redeeming fluff)

pairing: leo valdez x fem reader

“I didn’t think that-”

“yes, that’s exactly the problem! you never think!”

you stand in the infirmary in front of leo who is sitting on an infirmary bed, badly wounded from a reckless attempt trying to climb a tree to grab a paper plane for one of his younger siblings. although this was a sweet act of kindness he almost killed himself when he fell from the top branch

now here he is in the infirmary with a broken wrist and tons of bloody scratches, along with you yelling at him for risking his life

he frowns at your words and tears begin to make their way out of his eyes, but he’s quick to wipe them away so you don’t see

“I’m sorry” he whispers, he thinks if he spoke any louder the tears would start pouring out

“that’s what you said last time, and the time before. this is the third time this month you’ve gotten badly injured” you cross your arms

you wait a moment to let leo speak but when you realize he isn’t going to you leave the infirmary and head back to your cabin

that night leo didn’t sleep, instead staining the pillow with pools of tears until he couldn’t breathe, and on the other hand, you lie awake staring at the ceiling regretting your choice of words

☕️

for the next three days you don’t speak with each other, you were too afraid he hated you after what you said to him. you would’ve went longer if nyssa hadn’t spoken to you

“you’ve gotta talk to leo, I’m dying over here” she takes a seat beside you at your cabin’s table

“why?” you inquire

she sighs, “he’s sad, won’t stop talking about you. well more like whining. that’s all he does, I’m getting sick of it”

“I don’t know…” you begin

“this isn’t an option. you are going to talk to him because I’m going to throw myself off a cliff if you don’t” she stands up and walks away before you have a chance to reply

it’s your turn to sigh now, maybe you should talk to him

you stand and make your way to his bunker where you’re sure he’ll be but when he’s not there you go to cabin nine, where you find him lying on his bed facing the opposite side of the door

“leo?” he turns at the sound of your voice and you take this as a sign to walk over to his bed, “can we talk?”

he sits up and rubs his bloodshot eyes, “yeah”

you sit on the end of his bed before speaking, “I’m sorry about what I said. I know you were just trying to help your brother, and I admire that you care so much but I worry about you. you’re always putting yourself into life threatening situations to help someone you love and I’m afraid that one day you’re going to kill yourself doing it”

he opens his mouth to speak but you cut him off, “let me finish. please” you sigh, “do you remember the day we met? my bracelet broke and fell into the lake, you saw this from afar, and you didn’t even know me, but regardless of this you jumped in to retrieve my bracelet, you would’ve drowned if I wasn’t there. I knew the moment I brought you back to shore, where you sit coughing up water handing me my bracelet, I knew I was in love with you because you decided to risk your life to help me, and I think that’s the sweetest thing someone could do. I love that you have such a big heart but you really need to be careful because I don’t want to see you hurt”

he leaves the room to be silent and when you finally look up at him and notice the tear stains covering his cheeks you pull him in for a hug. he would be lying if he said he hadn’t been craving your touch

“I’m sorry” he mumbled into your shoulder, a few single tears wetting your shirt

“I know” you kiss the top of his head “I love you”

“I love you too”

[the-winter-spider]

The View Between Villages | Part Seven

Word count: 3.2k

Pairings: Bucky x reader, TASM!Peter x reader

A/N: promise ill put this fic on my masterlist eventually lol

Masterlist

—-

“Bucky told me he came by,” Sam said, his voice hesitant, waiting for any sign of acknowledgement. When none came, he sighed, feeling a bit foolish talking to a door. He closed his eyes, pretending you were right there in front of him. “Y/N, I know you’re hurting. I can’t help you, or even try to understand what you’re feeling, unless you let me in. We’ve dealt with loss, and it hurts. I get that—I really do. But we need to carry on for them, to pave the path for the future.”

You lay on the couch, your eyes fixed on the ceiling fan as it spun endlessly. It had been six weeks since Bucky stopped by. He hadn’t called, he hadn’t texted. You were almost certain this was Sam’s last attempt to coax you out, but the truth was, he wasn’t Natasha, he wasn’t Steve, he wasn’t Tony. And you weren’t even yourself anymore.

You wanted to try for Sam. He was good, so full of light and warmth, and he made talking seem easy. Maybe that’s why you couldn’t bring yourself to talk to him—because if you did, everything would spill out, and you had no idea what would happen after that. Maybe Sally, the news anchor, was right. You were unpredictable, unsteady, and not safe to be around. You didn’t even want to be around yourself.

“I’m not sure how much news you’ve been keeping up with, but a lot has happened,” Sam continued, his voice softening. “Bucky and I are going to be working together again. Who knows? We might even become friends. He’s going to help me with our family boat—we could use your help, too. Not just with the boat, but to keep us from killing each other,” he added with a small laugh, trying to lighten the mood. “I’ll text you where we’ll be. Call me anytime, Y/N. Take care of yourself.”

You heard the floor creak as he turned to leave. In your mind, you tried to picture Sam standing there, but the image was fuzzy. You couldn’t quite remember what he looked like anymore, just like you couldn’t clearly remember any of them. Their faces, their voices—all of it was fading away, burning memories fraying at the edges. You knew you’d forget the sound of his voice soon, just as you had forgotten the others.

Sam paused at the door, almost as if he was debating whether to say something else. Finally, he added, “Oh, I almost forgot… we got the shield back.”

The words hung in the air, a bittersweet reminder of the weight they all carried. But it wasn’t enough to lift you from the darkness that had taken root inside. You heard the door click shut, and then you were alone again, the silence pressing down like a suffocating blanket.

You turned your head slightly, staring at the phone lying on the coffee table. Sam’s text would come through eventually, and maybe you’d read it. Maybe you’d even respond. But not today. Today, the fan kept spinning, and so did the endless loop of memories that you wished you could forget.

—-

Statue of Liberty

“Are you guys almost done?” you shouted over the wind, your voice barely carrying over the clanging of metal and the distant sounds of the city below.

“Yeah, just placing the last one,” Peter 1 called back.

“Cool, cool,” you muttered, leaning over the scaffolding as Peter 1 jumped down, perching effortlessly beside you. Peter 2 and Peter 3 landed gracefully on either side of you, their expressions a mix of curiosity and concern.

You turned to face Peter 1, your universe’s Peter. “Y’know, I don’t think Steve would’ve liked this,” you said, gesturing to the construction of the shield on the Statue of Liberty.

Peter 1 smiled, a bit sheepishly. “It really is a big honour.”

Peter 2 chimed in, “This guy must have really been something for them to do all this.”

You swallowed hard, the weight of your grief pressing against your chest. You missed Steve more than you allowed yourself to admit. It still hurt—the way you never said goodbye, the way you couldn’t bring yourself to face him after he returned—an old man, having lived a life you could only dream of. The jealousy that bubbled inside you felt like poison, and you hated yourself for feeling it. Steve had been your hero, your friend, and it hurt to think that you weren’t there for him when he needed you most.

“He really was,” you whispered, your voice thick with unshed tears.

Peter 3 placed a hand on your shoulder, his touch gentle and reassuring. “You all are, honestly,” he said with a small smile. “Ever since I got here, all I keep seeing and hearing about are these amazing heroes. I just wish my universe had more of them.”

You managed a soft smile, looking up at him. “They have you, Parker. That’s all they need, and you are pretty amazing.”

“Yeah,” Peter 2 agreed, beaming at Peter 3. “Why are you so hard on yourself? You’re the amazing Spider-Man!”

Peter 3 shrugged, trying to play it off, but you could see the doubt lingering in his eyes. “It’s just… you guys all fight such cool villains, and I just have a lizard. I wonder if my universe has aliens.”

“Probably does,” Peter 1 said, laughing a little. “They all have to, right? But maybe they just haven’t been provoked yet.”

“What do you mean?” Peter 3 asked, his curiosity piqued.

“Like… there are so many superheroes here,” Peter 1 explained, pulling out his phone. “Mr. Stark once told me it shows life outside of Earth that we’re ready for a fight, so maybe that’s why we get all the crazy stuff.” He paused, frowning at his phone. “It’s an unknown number.” He hesitated for a moment before bringing it to his ear. “Um, hello?”

Peter 3 raised an eyebrow at you, a playful smirk tugging at his lips. “Think one of the villains got a phone?”

You chuckled softly, shaking your head. “It’s a necessity nowadays; I wouldn’t doubt it.”

Peter 1’s expression shifted, his eyes locking onto yours. “Yeah, she’s here,” he said, clearing his throat. “It’s for you.”

Your heart skipped a beat, a cold chill running down your spine. “Who is it?” you asked, even though deep down, you already knew.

Peter 1 gave you a sympathetic look, holding out the phone. “Sergeant Barnes.”

All the colour drained from your face, your hands trembling slightly as you took the phone from him. “Oh,” was all you could manage.

“I can tell him you’re busy,” Peter 1 offered, reaching for the phone, but you shook your head.

“No, I… I’ll take it.” You stepped back, bumping into Peter 3, who steadied you with a gentle grip on your shoulders.

“You okay?” he asked, his voice soft, his brown eyes filled with concern.

You nodded, though you weren’t sure if you were convincing either of you. Turning away from the group, you moved further down the catwalk, trying to put some distance between yourself and the others so they wouldn’t overhear your conversation. But their voices still echoed faintly in the background, Peter 2’s curious question reaching your ears: “Who’s Sergeant Barnes?”

You took a deep breath, pacing back and forth as you held the phone to your ear. Your thoughts raced, your emotions teetering on the edge of control. You remembered Tony’s breathing techniques, forcing yourself to inhale slowly, exhale just as slowly, trying to keep everything from spiralling out of control. You pinched the bridge of your nose, fighting the urge to scream, cry, or just… disappear.

“Hello?”

“Y/N.” Relief washed over Bucky’s voice, but there was an edge to it. “What’s going on?”

“Nothing.”

“Don’t lie to me, we saw you on TV with the Spider kid… Now I’m hearing about bad guys showing up. Are you hurt?”

“I’m fine, Bucky. We have everything under control.”

He scoffed. “What, you and that kid? And you’re bringing the fight to the Statue of Liberty? Are you serious?”

“It’s not just me and Peter, we have other help.” You were trying to stay calm, saving your energy for the real fight.

He sighed, frustration evident. “I know, Y/N.”

“Know what?”

“About the night of Steve’s funeral.”

Your mouth went dry. It felt like you were swallowing cotton. “Which funeral?”

“Doll,” he pleaded softly, not wanting to say it out loud.

“Don’t.” You shook your head, voice trembling.

“Why didn’t you tell me? I would’ve—”

“You would have what, Bucky? Stayed with me out of pity? Afraid I’d do it again? You said it yourself, we’re not the same people anymore.”

“I still love you. I’ll always love you, Y/N. I just needed time to figure out who I was, but—”

“What about what I needed?” you yelled, cutting him off. “What about me? I lost Steve too, I lost time too, I—I lost everything… I needed you, Bucky!”

“I’m right here, doll. I’ve always been here. You could’ve called me whenever, and you know I would have come running.”

“But you weren’t there. You were supposed to be there.”

You could hear his heavy breathing through the phone, and you were sure his brow was furrowed. “I’m right here, please, sweetheart, just talk to me, I-i miss you.

“You’ve been doing fine for the last six months.”

“How do you know that? You aren't here!”

“You left me, Buck. Remember? And you were right to.”

“I was right?”

You felt the air around you hum with electricity; they were close. “We’re just not who we were anymore… You made that pretty clear because my Steve and my Bucky would have never hurt me the way you two did. Never.” You wiped away a tear, the pain in your chest intensifying as you said the words you’d been avoiding for so long.

There was a long pause on the other end, and when Bucky finally spoke, his voice was barely a whisper. “I never meant to hurt you, I thought I was protecting you.”

“By leaving me alone? By making me feel like I was the only one who couldn’t move on?”

“I couldn’t move on either,” he confessed, the rawness in his voice cutting through your defences. “But I didn’t know how to stay and not drag you down with me.”

You swallowed hard, fighting back the tears. “You didn’t have to do it alone, Bucky. You didn’t have to shut me out.”

“I know that now,” he admitted, his voice breaking. “But back then… I didn’t. And I’m sorry, Y/N. I’m so sorry.”

For a moment, you couldn’t respond. The words hung between you, heavy with all the things left unsaid. But there was no time to dwell on it—not now, not with the fight looming ahead.

“I have to go,” you said finally, your voice tight with emotion. “They’re here.”

“Be careful,” Bucky pleaded, the desperation in his voice evident. “Please, just… come back to me, please don't do anything stupid, Sam and me, were on our way there, I'm gonna be there this time… please doll, i love you”

You closed your eyes, feeling the weight of everything you were carrying, focusing on your breathing and turning back towards the group. You took a minute to yourself, just taking the moment to observe them, the calm before the storm. Your Peter was perched up top, while the eldest stood by, and the Peter you were willing to risk it all for leaned against the railing, his mask in hand. He was smiling from ear to ear, his eyes crinkling at the corners.

Almost as if he could feel you staring, he turned to you, giving you the kindest smile before offering a small wave, which you returned.. “I love you.” You tore your gaze away from the Spider-Men, looking out over the edge. “I’m not sure I can ever love anyone the way I love you... But I can’t do that here, not when every corner I turn reminds me of everything, everyone I’ve lost.”

“What do you mean, here? Y/N, what are you going to do?” Panic laced his voice. He knew you had powerful abilities, but he didn’t fully understand them. You were still learning about them when he was in the safe house before Wakanda, but he knew enough to be scared of what you might do.

“James, I’m going to be okay…everything’s going to be okay.”

“Y/N, answer me.”

“I love you Bucky, god i love you so much” You clicked the phone shut.

You walked back over to the boys. “Thanks, Pete,” you smiled, tossing his phone back to him.

“You okay?” Peter 3 asked, concern in his voice.

“Yeah, I’m fine.” You mustered the best smile you could, but the way Peter 3’s eyes searched yours told you he could see right through it. That stung—someone you just met could see you weren’t okay, but Steve and Bucky couldn’t? Or maybe they could and just didn’t care. You quickly pushed those thoughts away, refocusing on the task at hand. “Are we ready to kick some ass?”

A series of nods followed. “Good, because they’re here.”

“How do you—” Peter 1 perched up. “You guys feel that?”

“Yeah,” Peter 2 nodded. “How did you know before us?”

“I’m one with everything, and all that hippie stuff.” You shrugged it off, activating your suit. The nanobots covered you from head to toe, transforming from an inky black to a colorless white, your eyes glowing with a cold intensity. The sky began to crackle, lightning flashing throughout.

“Y/N?” Your Peter questioned.

“Not me.”

All three men put their masks on, everyone fully alert. A man appeared, his arms crackling with electricity. “Sup, Pete? You like the new look?”

“Oh well, that’s pretty cool,” you said to no one in particular.

“Who’s this?” Electro turned his attention to you. “Look, I don’t wanna hurt a lady. Just give me the box, and everything will be fine.”

“I wouldn’t be too worried about hurting Y/N,” Peter 1 said. “She’s pretty badass.”

“Is that a challenge?” Electro smirked.

“Nope, no, no, Max, it’s definitely not a challenge,” Peter 3 said, trying to step in front of you. But it was too late—Electro sent a massive bolt of electricity surging toward you.

Without flinching, you caught the energy mid-air, the force of it pushing you back slightly. You held the electricity in your hand, feeling the raw power surging through you. A glowing line formed between you and Electro, the air around you crackling with tension. Your eyes glowed brighter as you lifted off the ground, hovering a few feet above the scaffolding.

“Oh shit,” Electro muttered, eyes wide.

“You know,” you began, your voice echoing with power, “that thing on your chest was designed by a very dear friend of mine. He wouldn’t like this—being on the wrong side of the fight and all. So I’m gonna have to do something about it.”

With a flick of your wrist, you sent the energy back toward Electro, forcing him to his knees. The arc reactor on his chest pulsed wildly as it tried to compensate for the overwhelming power you were feeding it.

“Any day now, Parker!” you shouted through gritted teeth, struggling to keep the feedback loop stable.

Peter 3 snapped out of his stupor and rushed forward, yanking the arc reactor off Electro’s chest and slapping the cure onto him. Electro collapsed, the energy dissipating in a burst of sparks. You slowly lowered him onto the scaffolding as Peter 3 knelt beside him, checking for any lingering signs of danger.

You dropped to the ground, adrenaline still coursing through your veins. “We need to find Peter!” you said, already moving. You passed Peter 2 as he successfully cured Sandman, the grains of sand swirling around him before settling into a calm pile.

As you rounded a corner, you collided with something—or someone—solid. Stumbling back, you looked up to see Doctor Strange standing before you.

“Y/N?”

“Strange.”

“You’re alive.”

“You thought I wasn’t?”

“I stopped hearing from you. Logically, I assumed the worst.” His eyes narrowed as he studied you. “Please tell me you’re not helping the kid.”

“We’re curing them. It’s working if that’s what you’re asking.”

He ignored your comment. “Your eyes are glowing.”

“It’s a new thing. Just started happening, I guess.” You shrugged.

He nodded, a calculating look in his eyes. “You’re unlocking it.”

“Unlocking what?”

“Everything. Your full potential.” He stared at you for a moment, almost as if he were reading your every thought. “Tread lightly, Y/N,” he warned before opening another portal.

You followed him, knowing exactly who he was going to. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“It means—”

“Pete, watch out!” you screamed as you saw the Lizard tackle Peter, your Peter, sinking his claws deep into his abdomen.

Strange quickly whipped out an Eldritch Whip to restrain the Lizard as the other two Spider-Men rushed in to cure Doctor Connors. You shakily knelt beside your Peter, who was gasping for breath, his suit torn and blood seeping out.

“Oh, Pete.” Tears welled in your eyes, guilt clawing at you as you applied pressure to the wound. “I’m so sorry.”

His hand weakly covered yours, his eyes filled with pain but also a reassuring warmth. “Don’t… apologize, Y/N. It’s not… your fault.” His breath hitched, and he tried to smile. “I know… what you’re—”

You shook your head, determined. “I’m going to fix this.”

“This is too much, Y/N. It’ll—” His voice faltered as he coughed, blood staining his lips. “It’ll take you out… if not worse.”

Your vision tunneled, focusing solely on Peter as you ignored the chaos around you. You weren’t aware of the hand on your shoulder or the shouts of the other Spider-Men. You placed both hands over Peter’s wound, your eyes glowing brighter as you began to pour every ounce of energy you had left into healing him.

“Get her off of me! This could kill her!” Peter 1 shouted, his voice desperate.

Peter 3 tried to pull you back, but you thrust out your left hand, mumbling a weak “Sorry” before blasting him away, a forcefield-like bubble forming around you and Peter. The bubble hummed with power, blocking out all outside interference. You vaguely saw Strange on the other side, using everything he had to break through.

“Y/N, please stop,” Peter begged, his voice breaking.

But you pushed on, one wound down, two more to go. The energy around you flickered, your vision pulsating between reality and darkness. You were fading fast, but you couldn’t stop, not when Peter needed you. You continued to channel everything into him until his vitals stabilized, the wound fully closed.

Just as you began to collapse, a bone-chilling voice echoed through the sky.

“Can the Spider-Man come out to play?!”

Peter shoved you out of the way just as the Goblin hurled a barrage of pumpkin bombs at the scaffolding. The force of the explosion sent you tumbling off the edge, the world spinning around you as darkness closed in. The last thing you saw was Strange struggling to keep the Goblin at bay, and the last thing you heard was someone screaming your name as you plummeted into the void.

[sunandmhoon]

COULD'VE BEEN

Genre: angst Pairing: Mingyu X Reader "Have you ever thought about what we could’ve been?" w/c: 1143 a/n: Hiii guys!!! It’s been a while~ I recently got into seventeen, so I’m writing this little oneshot of Mingyu!! I hope you like it, and I’m sorry If there’s any grammar mistakes.  enjoy~

MASTERLIST; OTHER WORKS

”Have you ever thought about what we could’ve been?

Looking up, he hummed. His eyes were focused on yours, a mix of longing, curiosity and something else. You both were where you always were on nights like this. At a quiet park, tucked between the trees. The leaves filter the moonlight into rounds of light on the ground, turning them into confetti around you. 

“Sometimes,” he responded, “why are you suddenly asking?” to tell him the truth would be useless at this point because you knew you could do nothing with the situation you are in. so you just looked away, the heat from his eyes was reaching your face, a contrast to the chill of the air. 

“No reason, it just came up in my head.” 

You were lying to him. You knew it, he knew it too. You often wondered what those nights meant to him. Those nights where all you would do is talk until the sun came up. Those nights where his touch was more of a home to you than your own house. The nights where he would keep you company when you’re down; bring you food when you��re feeling hungry; take care of you when you’re sick. 

Were those nights not as meaningful to him as they were to you?

A frustrated sigh interrupts the silence of the night. You were tired of this. Tired of hiding in the night. Tired of being second in his heart. Tired of it all. Maybe you were just used to his company, he was your best friend after all. Almost seven years together, and still you have this connection. Maybe it’s all just in your head. Maybe he never did think of you as anything else. 

Those lingering touches, tattooed gazes, soft-spoken words are just in your mind. To him, its nothing but friendship. If the question you have in your mind right now is a future, you and him aren’t the answer.

“What’s wrong?” he gently nudged your shoulder. His thumb caressing your collarbone where your sweater had dropped, drawing shapes on your skin; circles, squares, diamonds, hearts. 

“Do you remember that night in Miami?” you ask him but it’s clear that it wasn’t a question, more a statement. “The first time you put your arms around me.” his shapes halted, suddenly your shoulder feels cold. “What was that to you?” your courage finally came back as you shrugged his hand off your shoulder and turned to him.

“That night,” he started. He swallows, trying to compose his thoughts. He had a feeling he knew where the conversation would be going and he wanted to find a way to talk to you without scaring you, hurting you and hurting himself. “I don’t know how to explain it, but I know what answer you’re looking for.” his hair was softly blowing in the breeze, following the direction of the leaves. The moon was behind him, leaving a soft glow around his head like a halo. He looked angelic. And though you were scared of what he would say, you still took your time to bask in him. His presence. “It meant something to me. So much, it hurts me to say.” 

“Mingyu…” 

“I shouldn’t be saying this but I’ve thought about that night so many times. Other nights too,” he confessed, his face though looked more relieved than guilty as he saw yours. A shameful pride ran across your face for a second. You were happy that Mingyu shared the same feelings you did, but at the same time you felt shame, you felt like an awful person. “I would’ve gone all the way for you, we could’ve been together if I wasn’t…”

“If you weren’t with her?” 

“Yeah.” You sighed. He came closer, putting his arm around you, laying his head on top of yours. You had that feeling in your stomach, that bubbling feeling in your stomach where you know that something bad is coming up. “But you know, we can still be together,” he cupped your cheek. “It would be our secret; just between you, me and the moon.”

The look in his eyes is dangerous. It’s the look. The look of love, of longingness, of hope that pulls you in. it made you want to lean in closer and finally feel his lips on yours, it made you want to shout to the rooftops “HE’S MINE!”. It made you feel loved. 

But.

“If we have to hide it,” you started, “what’s the point trying?” and as much as it hurted you, you peeled yourself away from him. Away from his scent, the scent of his woody cologne, away from the comfort of his strong arms, away from his face. “Did it really mean something if you’re not willing to fight for it?” you asked him, tears slowly forming in your eyes.

“Hey,” he tried to reach over to you to wipe your tears, but you dodged him, “it did mean something to me.”

“Would you leave her for me?” 

The silence was enough of an answer for you. And although you expected an outcome like this, it still hurted you. It felt as if the structure your heart had been held by had finally broken, you could almost feel your heart fall and shatter into a million pieces in the pit of your stomach. The space in your mind filled with memories of him that was your haven had become crowded and claustrophobic. 

You stood up from where you were sitting with him and dusted off your legs. You took a deep breath before turning to him, where he was already standing, watching you. You could do nothing, you could say nothing. And for the last time, you hugged him. 

His touch was hot on your skin, but not in the way he made you feel warm like he had before. But in a way that it burns, as if you’re touching something you’re not meant to be touching. He’s not yours, you had to tell yourself, he will never be. 

You bask in the bittersweetness of the hug, allowing your tears to fall on his cashmere sweater as he held you in his arms. You felt his hand caress your hair, planting a small kiss on the top of your head. You stayed there connected for what felt like forever. 

When you finally break off, you both don't say much. The hug already did more than words could say. You exchanged a small smile, a smile that says thank you, a smile that says nothing will change between us but at the same time everything has changed. A smile that says I love you, and it sucks we can’t be together. A smile that says goodbye.

And as you walk back to your car all you could think of was,

‘Damn, what we could’ve been.’

-fin

[atomicladytimetravel]

If It’s Wrong, I Don’t Want to be Right Part 1 - Brat

Summary: After wandering alone for days, you’re taken into Jackson by Tommy and Joel. You butt heads with Joel at first - he’s mean and you’re a brat - but things get spicy later.

A little mean!Joel, female reader, dirty talk but no sex in this part. 20+ year age gap (reader is in her 30s, Joel is in his 50s). I’m gonna say MDNI because this will get explicit later on. 18+ ONLY.

I rewrote the previous story I posted. I like this version better and I’m going to do a series with it. I’m not sure of the word count, I wrote this on my phone.

I wonder where the fuck I am.

You’d been walking for days past dilapidated strip malls and through ghost towns with no names. You searched for any signs of life, but had found none. You had seen abandoned campsites and communities and you searched them, hoping to find food that had been left behind, but to no avail. You ran out of food and water yourself two days ago and you were getting desperate.

You were the lone survivor of a clicker attack that had wiped out the small group you had been traveling with. The gun holstered at your hip was useless, as you’d used all the bullets putting down clickers, and then your friends. You were a skilled fighter, but unfortunately, your friends had not been. Your father had been ex-military and, though you were only ten when the outbreak began, he taught you everything he could to protect yourself.

As the sun began to set, you started looking for a place to bunker down for the night. Traveling alone in the daytime was dangerous enough, especially for a woman. You considered herself lucky that you hadn’t run into anyone else so far.

You settled for a small house that looked relatively intact. You cautiously opened the front door and peered inside, scanning the front room for any danger. Once you were satisfied that the room was clear, you went inside and quietly checked the kitchen and dining room. You scanned the cabinets for food, but came up empty handed. You were getting ready to check the other rooms when a clicker emerged from the last door down the hallway. Then, a second appeared next to it. Your plan was to leave as quietly as possible, but when you took your first step back, your foot crunched on broken glass.

Shit.

The clickers whipped around at the sound and you took off running. The only thing you had to defend herself was the knife given to you by your father years ago. You unsheathed it while you ran. You got lucky and sunk the knife into the head of the first clicker before it could attack. You yanked it out and threw it at the second one, the blade sinking right into its skull. If the clicker had a target on its head, you would’ve hit the bullseye. You pulled the knife from the second clicker and stood with your chest heaving. You were dizzy, weak from a lack of sustenance. You turned and saw two men on horses watching you.

“Nice throw,” one of them said.

“Thanks,” you panted before promptly passing out.

When you awoke, you were lying on a cot in a makeshift infirmary. You sat up and looked around, catching the attention of a woman on the other side of the room.

“You’re awake!” the woman smiled. She poured some water from a pitcher and brought it to you.

“Oh my god, thank you,” you said, taking the glass from her. You drank the entire thing in seconds.

“Where am I?” you asked once the glass was empty.

“You’re in Jackson, Wyoming. A couple of our patrolmen brought you in after you passed out,” she replied. “I’ll be back in a few minutes. Tommy will want to know you’re awake.”

She left the room, returning a few minutes later with a man and another woman.

“Hi, I’m Tommy Miller. This is my wife Maria,” he introduced them. They both smiled warmly. You gave them your name.

“How are you feeling?” Maria asked.

“Weak, but okay,” you responded.

“That was some impressive knife work out there,” Tommy complimented. “What else can you do?”

You shrugged.

“Shoot, hand to hand combat - my dad was ex-military.”

“We’ll have to see what you’ve got once you have your strength back. We could use a good fighter for patrol,” Tommy said.

“You want me to stay?” you asked.

“Only if you want to.”

You only had to consider it for a moment. You had nowhere else to go and no plans.

“That’s very generous and I would love to. Thank you.”

Life in Jackson was infinitely better than the life outside you’d become accustomed to. There was a steady supply of food and water and you had a job - Tommy put you on the patrol rotation as soon as he found out how good of a fighter you were. You made fast friends with a girl named Holly you’d met while volunteering in the community garden.

You’d made several friends, actually. You were the kind of person who was nice until given a reason not to be. If anyone was going to give you a reason not to be, it was Tommy’s older brother Joel. He was standoffish and more than a little rude. Most people in Jackson were intimidated by him, but you weren’t. He got under your skin from time to time, sure, but you could most definitely handle him if you needed to.

Unfortunately, he was as attractive as he was rude. He was ruggedly handsome with salt and pepper hair and deep brown eyes. He had a good twenty years on you, at least, but that didn’t stop the dirty thoughts from crossing your mind.

Admittedly, it was you who started the first argument between yourself and Joel. He had it coming, though. You’d literally just met the man and he had been so rude.

He was sitting alone at the bar in the Tipsy Bison. Tommy took you to meet him once you’d gotten out of the infirmary, considering Joel was the man with him the day they took you in. You’d said hello and smiled at him, but all you got in return was an uninterested glance.

“I said hello,” you asserted.

“Hello,” he scowled, rolling his eyes.

“Joel, don’t be rude,” Tommy sighed.

“Don’t worry about it Tommy,” you said, glaring at Joel. “If this is how he is, I don’t want to talk to him anyway.”

“I’m truly disappointed,” Joel deadpanned as you walked away.

“You should be!” you countered over your shoulder.

The second time was his fault. You were minding your business in the garden when he approached.

“Well, well, if it isn’t The Brat,” he taunted. You wrinkled your nose at him.

“Don’t call me that.”

“Don’t act like one,” he shrugged. You sighed and put down your gardening shears.

“Do you need something, Miller?”

“Wouldn’t be here if I didn’t, would I?”

“Listen, just tell me what you want. I’m not in the mood for your bull shit,” you huffed. He raised an eyebrow. Had he finally met his match?

“Tomatoes,” he grumbled.

“Fine,” you nodded. You gathered some tomatoes in a basket and handed them to him without looking at him

“What kind of customer service is this?” he quipped.

“The kind you get when you get on my fucking nerves,” you sassed. “If that’s it, kindly get the fuck out of here.”

His eyebrows furrowed angrily.

“Don’t tell me what to do, brat,” he argued.

“Oh my god,” you said exasperatedly. “Miller, I have better things to do than argue with you. Do you need something else or are we done here?”

He scowled at you and left without a reply. You were starting to hate him, but you hated yourself even more for thinking about him whenever your hand was between your legs.

Every other interaction with Joel went about the same - he was rude and you were combative. He liked to call you brat and that both infuriated you and turned you on.

Everything came to a head one day after a few months of the back and forth. It was late afternoon, about an hour before you were supposed to report for patrol. You were sitting on your porch reading your favorite book. Tommy was approaching in the distance, but you were so engrossed in the story that you didn’t see him. You also didn’t hear when he called your name the first time. When he called out a little louder, you jumped and looked over at him.

“Sorry,” he chuckled. “Didn’t mean to scare ya.”

“No worries,” you laughed. “What’s up Tommy?”

“You’re on patrol with Simpson tonight, right?” he asked. You sighed. If anyone here was as annoying as Joel, it was Paul Simpson. He was obnoxious and didn’t know when to stop talking.

“Supposed to be, unfortunately.”

“Well I’ve got good news and bad news. The good news is that he broke his hand and won’t be able to help tonight,” he said with a grin. Tommy wasn’t Simpson’s biggest fan either.

“Great! So what’s the bad news?”

“Joel is his replacement.”

“Ugh, Tommy why?” you whined.

“Nobody else could do it,” he shrugged. “Listen, I need to go meet Maria. Be a doll and tell me for him, will ya?”

He turned without waiting for an answer. He didn’t want to be the one to tell his brother he had to work on his night off with his least favorite person.

“Hey! He’s your brother!” you called after him.

“Sorry!” he called back over his shoulder.

“This should be fun,” you grumbled to yourself as you marked your place in your book.

You found Joel in the Tipsy Bison, sitting alone at the bar. You sat next to him on one of the barstools and gave him a sarcastic smile when he looked at you.

“What do you want, brat?” he asked gruffly. You rolled your eyes at the name.

“Simpson’s off duty tonight. He broke his hand,” you answered.

“What’s that got to do with me?” he snapped.

“Tommy says you’re his replacement.”

“And why can’t you be his replacement?” he asked, annoyed.

“You’re gonna love this,” you laughed dryly. “I’m already on duty.”

“Oh for fuck’s sake,” he hissed, his fist slamming on the bar. Several people flinched, but you did not. You glared at him.

“Listen Miller, I know everyone else here is intimidated by you, but you don’t fucking scare me. I don’t know if you just need to get laid or what, but I’m tired of your fucking attitude. You,” you poked your finger into his arm, “are going to learn to talk to me with some god damn respect.”

You pushed the barstool away from the bar and headed for the door. Joel downed the rest of his drink and followed you. Everyone in the bar watched the two of you curiously as you exited.

“I don’t owe you any fucking respect,” Joel spat. “I don’t even know you.”

“Go fuck yourself Miller,” you said without turning around. “And adjust your attitude before patrol.”

You entered your house and slammed the door. Joel barged in behind you and slammed it again.

“Excuse me, this is my - “

He cut you off with a hand to your throat, pushing you against the wall. The action made desire pool in your belly.

“Who do you think you are talking to me like that?” he growled. You smirked at him.

“Are you trying to scare me? I already told you, I’m not afraid of you.”

“Yeah? Even with my hand wrapped around your pretty little throat?” he asked, his face inches from yours.

“My pretty little throat, huh? Sounds less like you want to hurt me and more like you want to fuck me,” you teased. You looked up at him seductively. “What if I told you I’d let you?”

“God damn it,” he mumbled before his lips crashed against yours. He moved his hand from your throat and wrapped his arm around your waist, pulling your body to his. You wrapped your arms around his neck and deepened the kiss. It was all tongue and teeth, desperate, like this was something you’d both wanted for a while.

“I see you walking around here in these little cutoff shorts,” he said, reaching down and squeezing your ass. “That ass just begging to be spanked like you deserve.”

“You think about me Joel?” you murmured sultrily. He was almost ashamed to admit how many times he’d jerked himself off thinking about you. Almost.

“Every time I touch my cock, sugar,” he smirked. The thought set your body on fire.

“I like to think about getting you all fired up so you’ll run that little brat mouth,” he said, dragging his thumb across your bottom lip. “Spank you a little and then shove my cock down your throat.” You were practically melting at his words. “I bet you get off on being a brat, huh?”

“Maybe I do,” you responded cheekily. “Is that why you’re such a dick? Cause you get off on me being a brat?”

His hand was still on your ass and he gave it a sharp spank. You squealed and he chuckled.

“Maybe so.”

“You know if you want to fuck, you can just say so. I’ll be your brat whenever you want me to be,” you told him. You popped the top button on his flannel and moved your pointer finger in circles on his chest. “You can use me however you want.”

You undid a few more buttons as you talked and you pressed soft kisses to his chest.

“God damn, you’re gonna be the death of me,” he groaned. He caught sight of the clock you kept on the wall and swore under his breath.

“We only got five minutes sugar. Gonna have to pick this up after patrol.”

“Damn,” you sighed. “Okay. It’s gonna look real weird with you coming out of my house after all this time though.”

“Just yell at me as I go out the door. Slam it. Make it look real convincing,” he said. He walked towards the door; before he opened it, he turned to you with a smirk.

“I’m going to fucking ruin you later.”

“I hope so,” you said, returning his smirk. He opened the door and you put on your best angry face.

“Get the fuck out Miller, and don’t ever barge into my house again!” you yelled.

“Fuck off!” he yelled back. “And don’t fucking be late!”

You slammed the door, a grin spreading across your face.

This will be fun.

[specialagentlokitty]

Teen wolf x Reader - you’ll be okay

Hi, TW question Annon. In that case, could I please request a pack x suicidal reader where the reader keeps trying to keep their issues hidden, but the pack starts to notice, and during a fight, the reader gets hurt protecting Lydia (Readers older sister) and the pack come together to try help the reader and stay with the reader and support them and make them feel loved? Sorry for long request!!!! - Anon💜

TW: self harm, and negative thoughts

Sitting on the stairs, you were only half listening to whatever it was Scott and Derek were discussing. You were too busy running your thumb along your knuckles as you tried to ignore the thought in your head.

You looked around the room, and Lydia frowned at you, mouthing if you were okay and you nodded your head, giving her a small smile.

You felt someone sit next to you and looked up at Peter, looking down has he handed you his phone.

You just lied to your sister, why?

You furrowed your brows a little and cleared the message, typing your own before you handed it back to him.

I didn’t lie, and what’s with the texting?

He hummed a little bit, handing the phone back to you with a new message.

So the others can’t hear, I’m sure you don’t want them to hear me calling you out on your lie and bringing any attention to it. So, why are you lying?

Rolling your eyes at Peter, you began to type your next message and handed it over to him.

I’m not lying Peter, in fine. What’s it to you anyways? I thought the big bad wolf would’ve loved to cause me discomfort and make everyone worry.

Peter Chuckled a little, quickly typing out his response to you.

Fortunately for you, I find you tolerable. So let’s talk, because I can smell the sadness seeping from you. Either you tell me or I’m just going to follow you around until I figure it out, and I don’t think your sister would appreciate me breaking into your house.

Scoffing, you shook your head.

Break into my house Peter and I’ll shove a stick of mistletoe wrapped up in wolfsbane and mountain ash so far up your ass you’ll be able to taste it.

Peter chuckled again, putting his phone away as he nudged you with his shoulder.

“Don’t be so feisty, we both know I’d easily overpower you.”

“We both know I’d shove wolfsbane down your throat.”

You smirked a little and Peter grinned at you, patting your leg as he stood up.

“Seriously though, I meant it.” He whispered.

With that, he walked down the stairs to disrupt the meeting and you carried on sitting there, lost in your own thoughts.

You knew he’d be able to smell the sadness from you, you were shocked he hadn’t smelt the blood from last night, but maybe that’s because you drowned the wounds in alcohol rub.

Maybe he could smell it but chose to ignore it, you had no clue, but you knew you had to be more careful next time.

You had quickly lost interest in everything they were saying, so you stood up and made your way down the stairs and sat next to your sister.

“What’s up?” She whispered.

“I’m not feeling well I’m gonna head home, I’ll see you later yeah?”

She nodded her head and gave you a smile and a light hug before you said bye to everyone else.

They all frowned as they watched you leave, you never used to leave pack meetings, you would always stay, put forth ideas and help them plan.

Now they were lucky if you even interacted with anything they were saying during the meetings.

“What’s up with her?” Derek asked.

Everyone looked around at one another before shrugging.

Lydia couldn’t help but worry, she was seeing this decline both here and at home and it was worrying for her.

When she got home she made her way to your bedroom and let herself in, closing the door as she looked around.

Your curtains were open, letting the rays of sunset through, lighting up the messy space, and she could see you curled up underneath your quilt.

“(Y/N)?” Lydia asked softly.

You didn’t move, you made no noise to say that you had even heard her.

Walking over, Lydia knelt in front of your face and reached out, gently shaking your shoulder to try and wake you up.

“Hey wake up.”

You grumbled and pulled the quilt over your head.

“Five more minutes….”

Lydia laughed a little, pulling your quilt down as she smiled at you.

You gave her a small smile and sat up, wrapping your quilt tightly around you as you shuffled up to let her sit in the bed with you.

Lydia explained everything that happened in the pack meeting, and what was going down tonight and you nodded along as she told you.

“Where are we meeting them?”

“Just outside the place, is that okay?”

“Yeah, I’ll shower and get ready, can you find wherever I tossed the knife Alison’s dad gave me?”

“Yeah of course.”

She started to search around your room while you grabbed some clothes and headed to shower.

You seemed pumped about being able to get some of the action, and it made Lydia smiled, you definitely seemed a lot happier then what you were earlier that day.

You hid in your hiding spot and waited for cue before you jumped up and charged at one of the hunters.

It was an intense fight, and you managed to knock yours out and turned to see who needed help.

You locked eyes with Lydia and you didn’t even think, throwing your knife, it embedded itself into the hunters shoulder, and she pushed him away.

Kidding to a halt in front of Lydia, you barely managed to push her out of the way when a shot rang out.

Everything seemed so fast from that point.

You heard your sister scream, the werewolves roar, you dropped to your knees, hands covering your stomach as you coughed up some blood.

You felt someone gently pulled you back, and slowly your eyes met theirs.

“L..Lydia…”

“It’s.. it’s okay… it’s okay Melissa is coming.. okay?” She sobbed.

Peter was the next to drop by your side, taking your hand in his you could feel the pain leaving you body, hear him gasping for air through it.

“What’re your doing?!” Lydia yelled at him.

“I’m taking her pain!” He snapped back.

Scott, Derek and Issac sat next to Peter, taking turns in taking your pain as much as they could.

Alison and Stiles sat on either side of Lydia as she sobbed while holding you.

Alison took your hand, and she saw the bandages around your arm, she looked at the other one and saw the other bandages too, and the others must’ve seen it because they looked at her.

“Just stay awake…” stiles whispered.

“I..it’s okay…” you croaked out.

You were smiling, you were happy and it broke their hearts.

You wanted this, you wanted this to kill you and they knew you did.

“You’re gonna be okay…” Issac whispered to you.

“Yeah, you’ll be back on your feet in now time.” Scott smiled.

Truth be told none of them believed that they were saying, you were loosing so much blood, and they couldn’t even moved your in case it made it worse.

You took your hand from Alison and slowly reached up, placing your hand on Lydia’s arm as you smiled softly at her.

“It.. it’s okay…”

“It’s not okay you idiot! I can’t loose you!” She yelled back.

You kept your hand on her arms as you took a few depp breaths, you weren’t in pain thanks to the werewolves, but you knew you were loosing so much blood.

“We need you (Y/N), you’re the glue that holds this dysfunctional pack together…” Derek mumbled.

“Yeah, you’re the one that makes everything better.” Issac nodded.

“Without you this pack would fall apart.” Scott said.

You smiled a little more while they told you how much they needed you. They all loved you, you were like a sister to all of them.

It wasn’t long until Melissa came with EMTs, the sheriff not far behind and you were whisked away from them all.

They all raced towards the hospital, determined to sit there all day and all night until they knew you were okay

[maybejaime]

Hello! I saw that your asks were open and that you’re working on a WITW project! Would you be interested in making anything winter themed? Like Mole giving a gift to the wild wooders? Or something sweet and heartwarming :)

No pressure to make it! Just some silly ideas as the weather gets colder!

Happy Holidays! Apologies this took so long, but thank you for the great idea (there will be more from this prompt coming including some with Cheryl and Lesser!)

Part One

Close-ups and story below!

Mole was ever so pleased with himself, holding the gift out to his unlikely housemate- it had only been a couple of seasons since Chief Weasel had stumbled into the burrow, exhausted and wounded; and despite the quirks of living with a wild wooder struck with cabin fever, Mole couldn’t say he had hated it.

Chief looked at the box, incredulous, with an expression somewhere between confusion, fear, and frustration. The blackberry pie on his fork slowly drooped until it fell back onto the plate.

Mole and Ratty had foraged the fruit in the pie- they’d spent an afternoon taking a turn down the country lanes and paths, picking blackberries off the bushes and pricking their fingers as they did so. The intent had been to make a pie for Mrs Otter, you see, but before it had even cooled, Mole returned from lunch with Ratty to find the weasel practically elbow deep in the pie.

He’d initially been angry, but he’d learned about the scarcity of food for the Wild Wooders and had began to understand exactly why Chief and the other stoats and weasels were always so hungry. It didn’t exactly allow him to forgive the weasel for almost eating him in their first meeting, but it certainly softened the memory slightly.

“Go on,” Mole smiled, “Open it.”

“What… is this?” Chief responded with, tone unreadable.

“It’s a gift. For Christmas! For you- you know, I thought it pertinent to include you in the festivities considering you’re away from your family this Winter.”

“…Family? Nah, nah, those Wild Wooders ain’t my family, they’re simply acquaintances, if that. Glad to be rid of ‘em, in fact.”

Though at any earlier time, Mole would’ve believed the statement and marvelled at the hostility of the weasel, Chief had looked away as he spoke, directing his eye contact to the pie instead. And that, Mole had learnt, was the Chief Weasel’s tell. He was lying, and now that Mole knew that, the strain in his voice from somewhere around his throat was obvious.

Mole wanted to ask ‘why do you pretend you don’t care?’; but he had a feeling that would only be met with hostility, so he tried something else.

“So… do you not give gifts around Christmas?”

“Nah! ‘Course not, don’t want people thinkin’ we’re givin’ handouts to any old creature.”

“But it isn’t a- a ‘handout’. It’s a gift, you know, to show someone you love them!” Mole frowned, cradling the gift closer.

Chief’s eyes darted away again, a flash of his fangs showing as he bit his lip, before he realised he was doing it and reset his face to that same old scowl.

“Gifts show weakness. Love shows weakness.” He grumbled, and he quite frankly looked miserable.

Mole sighed, putting the present on the table and sitting beside him.

“Well what do you do?”

“What?”

“When you want to give a frie- When you want to give someone something?” Mole knew that Lesser Weasel and Cheryl Stoat were Chief’s friends, but apparently the Wild Wooder seemed intent on pretending otherwise, “How do you do that without ‘showing weakness’?”

“Ah, now that’s simple! Just find out where they are, and drop the thing where they’ll find it! Then you didn’t give somethin’ away without expectin’ anythin’ in return, and they got their gift!” He paused, “I mean- thing. Not gift.”

“If I’m entirely honest, that seems like a lot of hoops to jump through to come to the same scenario as this…” Mole motioned to the box- he’d wrapped it too well for it to be discarded; had even found a dried flower to tie into the ribbon!

Chief seemed to consider it, responding with only a shrug as he jabbed at the pie with his fork.

“Well,” Mole murmured quietly, pushing the box closer towards Chief, “I’m gonna go and get some logs for the fire. It would be a shame if someone were to steal this very nicely wrapped gift.”

And then he stood, wondering off to the nook where he kept all his logs and coal. He felt Chief’s eyes on him as he left, and he pretended not to hear the quiet and geniunely ‘thank you, Mole’ that came from behind.

That night, as they huddled around the fire- the box was nowhere to be seen, Chief was fiddling with a new hat; and he had a smile on his face that matched the comfort in his posture. The two of them drank and made merry until the early hours of the morning- Chief had never been so jolly, and Mole had never known that a Wild Wooder could be such a good friend.

[valtoswife]

Julius knew he wasn’t fooling any of the prisoners when he told them he was put in charge of them. Perhaps he should have thought through that part of his plan more, but he was too worried about the first part to really focus on the second. He hadn’t actually expected Jack to agree to let him take over, but then again maybe he should have figured Jack would always take the opportunity to go on any sort of mission that involved fighting unbelievably strong beings, even if it meant neglecting the other parts of his job. But either way, it would’ve been pointless if the prisoners saw through him and he was forced to find someone else to supervise them anyways.

Valtos folded his arms, the chains on his wrists making a soft clinking noise as he did so. “You can’t possibly be a magic knight. You’re too young to even have a grimoire.”

“So I look a bit young for my age.” Julius shrugged. “I assure you, I do have one.”

“Really? Where is it?” Sally tilted her head curiously at him.

Julius froze, thinking of how to respond. He very well couldn’t show these people anything that might give away his identity, but he also had to say or do something, anything that might convince them that he was supposed to be there. “Ah...well, I would show you, but I’m a bit embarrassed to. You see, it’s kinda only one page.”

The third prisoner, Rades, who was at first barely even paying attention to what was going on, suddenly shot up his eyebrow. He turned around to face Julius, trying desperately to suppress the grin on his face and hide the relief of knowing there was someone out there with a grimoire just like his. “Wow, I guess that would be really embarrassing. So you can’t really blame him for not showing his grimoire to us, right?” Julius mentally cheered. He wasn’t even lying when he told them that excuse, and it worked!

Valtos rolled his eyes at Rades before turning back to Julius. “Fine. I don’t know why someone like you would be sent to supervise us, but it’s not my place to question it.”

“Yeah, it’s totally fine as long as you guys do your work and don’t cause trouble!” Julius did his best to give a convincing innocent smile, which was thankfully something he became considerably better at since he got his new form, at least to strangers and acquaintances. However, he couldn’t quite tell if that was the case with the group in front of him right then.

They did not need prompting to clean up the rubble, not even Rades, though he still endlessly grumbled while he did so. Julius watched with great interest as he saw how the three of them worked together, with Sally gathering the harder to reach broken pieces with her Gel Magic, and Rades carrying the endless parts with his Wraith Magic, putting all of them into Valtos’ pitch black portals, who then had even the biggest remains disappear in the blink of an eye.

They managed to work for a good while before Julius ended up interrupting them. He promised himself that all he was going to do was observe, but he couldn’t help himself. He had to take a closer look, to have the countless questions in his mind answered. Gel Magic had so many interesting properties, Spatial Magic was so practical yet so rare, and Wraith Magic was unlike anything he had ever seen before.

“So how do all of your magics work?” Julius stepped between the three of them, his lavender eyes sparkling with curiosity. Sally immediately turned around to respond, and Rades, looking for any chance to stop working, followed suit. Valtos gave a low grunt of annoyance but turned around as well.

“My Gel Magic can carry lots of different things inside of it!” Sally explained. “It’s perfect for collecting samples! Or taking people around too!”

Being with these people and seeing how...casual they all acted made him nearly forget why there were stuck cleaning the capital in the first place, until the memory of Asta, the strong, brave magic knight, trapped by the girl in front of him entered his mind. “Ah, I see,” was all Julius could say. He knew that even if they still wanted to, they wouldn’t be able to create that sort of turmoil to the people of the kingdom again, but their past crimes were still always going to be in the back of his mind when he was with them.

He cleared his throat. Still, that wasn’t going to stop him from wanting to learn more about their powers. “How about you?” he asked Valtos. He was interested to find out just how similar or different his magic might be to his advisor Cob’s.

Valtos shrugged. “My magic’s simple. I open portals and teleport people and objects. I also have a couple of attack spells and a transformation spell. That’s all there is to it, really.”

“Can I see it more closely?”

Valtos opened a black portal beneath a pile of bricks and Julius leaned up to it to look closer as they disappeared.

“I’ve never seen portals like yours, where they open horizontally and whatever’s on it sinks to the other location,” Julius commented. But it made sense, he realized, given how exactly this man had utilized his magic against the magic knights before. Ignoring the tension in his chest again, he added, “There’s another spatial mage I know, whose spells could never work the way yours does, because of the form his portals take. Unless...he could make a trapdoor portal! Ooh...I’m gonna ask him about that.”

“Rades, your turn!” Sally said. “Show him your magic!”

“No!” Rades folded his arms.

“What?” Julius asked.

“I said no! Don’t even tell him what affinity mine is!” Julius knew better than to tell him he was already aware of what it was.

“Oh, come on, Rades!” Sally said. “You’re no fun!”

“What’s the problem?” Valtos asked. “Even I went and showed my magic.”

“Yeah!” Julius nodded. “Don’t worry. It’s just a fun thing to do as a little break from all the work. You won’t get in trouble; I’m the one distracting you guys.”

“How many times do I have to say it?!” Rades pointed at Julius, glaring with his uncovered eye. “I’m sick of countless people like you hearing about my magic and sighing about how it was always inevitable that I ended up here! You know, maybe, just maybe, my magic had absolutely nothing to do with it!”

Julius repeated, “What?”

“Yeah! Maybe it had to do with you guys seeing the nonexistent worst in me before I ever even did anything, and banishing me, ostracizing me, leaving me alone with no one, absolutely no one, except for one person, one person, who used me for his own crimes and goals and threw me away, so now I’m stuck here! You guys are the ones that made it inevitable for me! You just blamed my magic while you did it!”

Julius glanced at Sally and Valtos, but from the looks on their faces, they seemed just as surprised as he was by the outburst. “You don’t have to talk about or show me it. It’s fine.”

“Good,” was all Rades grumbled.

Julius watched as Rades continued to work, recalling what little he knew about Rades’ past. He used to be a Purple Orca before he got exiled from the squad and kingdom. The same squad as Zara. He wondered how much Rades’ status as a commoner might’ve had to do with his banishment, in addition to his magic affinity. As violent and bitter Rades had become, that did not change the fact that he was yet another person the Clover Kingdom forsook for no good reason at first. Another person Julius wasn’t able to help, at first.

The three prisoners kept working for the rest of the day, and before Julius knew it, the area was completely cleared. “Great job, guys! You’ve earned another break!”

“Finally!” Rades did not waste a moment. He immediately made his away over to one corner of the street, sitting on the sidewalk and humming to himself. Valtos went the opposite direction, staring at the sun as it sank behind a cluster of buildings.

“Hey!” Julius didn’t fail to notice Sally right behind him but did not keep her from approaching him. “I figured out why you were so acting so secretive earlier when you told us you were watching us today!”

“Did you now?” Julius looked around, but unfortunately they did too good of a job cleaning the place for him to find anything he could use. There’s that spell I just started working on, but it’s not anywhere near ready for me to cast yet...

“Yeah! Your hair color, your eyes! You’re his spitting image!” Sally grinned, triumphant over her discovery. “It makes sense that anyone related to the wizard king would want to hide their identity from us, after what almost happened to him a couple months ago.”

“Huh?” Julius asked.

“You know, I’ve met him before! He’s cool!” As if just noticing the look on his face, Sally only then said, “Don’t worry! I won’t tell anyone!”

“Glad to hear it.” Julius smiled back. “Because if you do...”

“Ah, there’s no need for threats. I promise I won’t even tell Rades or Valtos,” she assured him.

Julius sighed. “All right.”

“Can I ask you a question though?”

“...What is it?”

“Why did you agree to watch us? I know Valtos said that Patri, our old leader, had nearly killed the wizard king. I mean, I don’t think I would mind too much if I had to spend time with someone who hurt me before, but that’s just me. Do you really not mind we’re from the group that attacked your relative?”

Julius blinked at her. “I...Well, it’s not that I don’t mind. I will admit, it’s hard to be around you guys knowing what you’ve done. But now, everyone needs to work together to help the kingdom recover. As for the reason I’m here in the first place, well, I was just curious. How was this kind of sentence working out for you? I’ve decided it’s fitting; the least you three can do is clean up the mess you’ve helped make.”

“Hm,” Sally thought about his response for a moment. “Well, Rades doesn’t seem to like it, but I think Valtos does, for the same reason you gave. I don’t have a strong opinion about it. It doesn’t leave a lot of time for me to research though.”

“Well, it’s not about how you feel about it,” Julius pointed out.

Sally shrugged. “I was asking about why you’re here because,” she looked down at the ground, “I’ve never really considered that type of thing before. There’s someone who made me a promise, but he hasn’t lived up to that promise yet, even though it’s been months. I’m starting to wonder...did he go back on it because he doesn’t want to be around me?”

“Who made you the promise?” Julius asked.

“A Black Bull. Asta’s his name.” Sally fiddled her hands around glumly. “He promised he’d let me experiment on him, as long as I didn’t hurt him and I helped other people. But that’s what I’ve been doing this whole time here, right? Helping! And if he wants to he could totally use whatever I make out of my research too! So why hasn’t he visited and lived up to his promise yet? Is it because he can’t stand to be around me, after what I’ve done?”

Julius looked at the young prisoner. She had a desperation in her eyes that Julius knew all too well: the desperation to learn. And he had a feeling that Asta was not one to break promises, unless he had a really good reason to. “Well, the Black Bulls have been dealing with a lot lately. He might’ve just not had the chance to fulfill his promise yet. I’ll tell you what. How about I try and see for myself what Asta wants, and if he is still up for it, I’ll set up a date for you two.”

“Really?” Sally’s eyes shimmered, and she shook her hands around, causing her handcuffs to rattle as she was barely able to contain her relief and excitement. “Thank you!”

“No, of course.” Julius nodded at her. “This will be really useful for the kingdom as well.”

He couldn’t help but get his hopes up that such a thing would get to happen. He knew all about the research Sally conducted while in the Eye of the Midnight Sun, everything from her magic items to the bodies she grew for the leaders. It was all morbid and fascinating.

Perhaps with a few...ethical limitations, she can be of great use to the Clover Kingdom. An asset beyond what Julius could possibly imagine at the moment.

He glanced back at Valtos and Rades in the distance. And not just her. Those other two have skills as well that would do numbers for the kingdom. I should try and see if I can set them up with anything else too. But if not now, if anything ever comes up later, I’m sure they can help out a bit too then at least.

Soon, the three prisoners had to go, and so Julius said his goodbyes. Valtos cleared his throat before saying, “I apologize for my initial doubts towards you. I was just worried about what kind of trouble a false guard could bring if anything were to happen. But you’ve more than proven that you are a good, legitimate magic knight and guard, if a little...distractible. So, whatever it’s worth, you have my respect.”

Ignoring the tiniest hint of guilt over all his white lies after what Valtos just said, Julius simply nodded at him. “Thank you.”

“Yeah, I guess it was fun. Better than dealing with Jack, at least,” Rades conceded. Julius nodded at him as well.

“So you’ll really go and see if Asta will still keep his promise for me?” Sally asked.

“Yes,” Julius confirmed.

“Thank you!” she said again, and then shook his hand profusely with both her own.

He took a step back once she was done. “Yeah. No problem. This’ll be really good, if Asta does keep his promise.” He looked up at her. “You’re going to do great things for the Clover Kingdom now, I’m sure.”

[noforkingclue]

No Questions Asked (Laszlo Kreizler x reader) Chapter 21

No Questions Asked tag list: @fandom-lover-4, @ajeff855, @booksarekindaneat, @greeneyedblondie44

Everything tag list: @greenrevolutionary, @byebyebreezywrites, @spngingerbread21, @layazul, @lov3vivian, @simonsbluee

You kicked your legs back and forth as you stared at the chalkboard. You bit your lip as you looked over Polly’s last words. The words that she risked her life to get for you.

The parents know more then they’re saying

Bitter mocking words. Words that just a short while ago you would’ve done anything to hear, to have your point proven right. But now… now all you wanted was your friend back. You jumped when you felt a soft hand on your shoulder. Kreizler was next to you. You looked around and couldn’t see either John or Sara. You wished that they were here.

“Still feeling guilty?” he asked

“You tell me.”

“You were not to know that she would die.”

“I should’ve done though,” you muttered, “I knew the type of bastard she was with. I thought that his death would,” you waved a hand, “I don’t know…”

“Resolve your guilt?”

You glanced at Kreizler out of the corner of your eye and nodded.

“But it didn’t.”

“In some ways,” you said, “I know he can’t hurt anyone else but in others,” you ran your hands over your face, “it won’t bring my friend back. And now-”

You cut yourself off and swallowed thickly. You hopped off the table and walked slowly towards the board. After a second you heard Kreizler approach you. His hand appeared back on your shoulder and you had to resist the urge to lean back into him.

“And now you think this is wrong.”

You hesitated for a moment. You chewed your thumb nail and paced about. Saying it out loud would mean admitting to your fears. To the fact that your failure led to the death of one of the few people in this city who knew you, the real you.

“What’s this, Doc? You think you’re wrong?”

You and Laszlo glanced around. John and Sara had just walked in. You hugged yourself tightly and walked away from the board. The awkwardness had once again settled between you and Laszlo. John gave you a curious look and you pointedly looked at the floor.

“I need some fucking air.”

You pushed your way out of the door. You took a deep breath and leant against the brickwork. Fuck. You had hoped to leave all of this behind. To have a fresh start in a new city where you could actually help people. You’d never escape death, not in your world, but you wanted to do something even with your limited resources and power.

“Hey, doc?”

You glanced over when you heard an unfamiliar voice. It wasn’t uncommon for strangers to approach you asking for help. In the world you operated in, finding someone with even some element of medical knowledge (who asked very low fees) was a rarity. Word travelled fast.

“Depends who’s asking.”

“Got something for you.”

“What- AH!”

The stab was swift and the blade sharp. You gasped and staggered back. You were vaguely aware of people shouting around you and you glanced down. The knife was sticking out of your stomach and the greyish white was your shirt turning a vivid red colour. You sunk down to the ground, shock settling in. In any other situation you’d know what to do. But with this… you never thought that it would actually happen to you.

“Doc? Hey Doc!”

You looked up. Your vision was swimming and you couldn’t see who was talking to you. Dark spots clouded your vision and you felt yourself slowly overcome to unconsciousness.

“Doc!”

*

You let out a groan as you were slowly pulled into the waking world. The first thing you noticed was just how comfortable the bed you were lying in was. Your fingers curled against the sheets and you knew you should be savouring this moment. You knew that you would never be in a bed as nice as this ever again.

Wait.

You didn’t know anyone who had a bed like this.

Your eyes flew open and you sat up sharply. You let out a cry of pain and put your hand over your wound. You glanced down at the bandages covering your chest and flopped back on the pillows.

Great. This was just what you needed. You were  just about to drift off to sleep when a thought hit you. Where was your shirt? They needed to take it off in order to help you which must mean…

Ah fuck.

This was going to take a lot of explaining.