#drawing her face is such a hit or miss but whatever
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wileys-russo · 10 months ago
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https://x.com/kaitsgooner/status/1752015922892620031?s=46&t=k-Lwg3ELXoOdR-KcbCNumw
Leah’s always gossiping😭 she’s so funny. Would love a little fic of Leah and reader just on the bench and Leah is just full on gossiping to reader while your trying to focus on the game. Eventually getting pulled into Leah’s gossip
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gossip II l.williamson
you watched with pride as your girlfriend jogged over to the sidelines, smacking her palm against laia's and clapping the catalonian on the back who raced across the pitch to take her place.
you waited patiently as leah greeted the coaching staff, shaking hands and having a quick word with the defensive head and pointing out a few things as he slid over to speak with jonas and leah made her way down the line of subs, fist bumping each girl as she went.
"hello bench warmer." the blonde teased with a grin, quickly pecking your lips and dropping down onto the grass in front of you, waving off frida's offer to move down a seat so your girlfriend could sit beside you.
"charming as ever darling." you sighed with a smile, handing her a recovery shake as she shuffled back slightly to lean against your legs, patting your knee affectionately.
as she locked into a conversation with alessia who was sat on your other side you zoned out a little, chin resting on your fist and watching the game.
"babe!" you glanced down as leah shook your leg, raising an eyebrow. "do you remember the florist? the one down the street from that bakery we like?" leah questioned as you smiled.
"lee we can gossip all you want on the drive home, watch the game." you laughed quietly, knowing the blondes tendencies far too well as she huffed and turned back to speak with alessia.
arsenal had a two goal lead but you knew even if there was only twenty minutes left that anything could happen, which is why you paid little attention to your girlfriends stories.
though you could tell she was getting into them given the way her hands darted about as she spoke making you smile fondly as alessia and now kyra hung off the older girls every word, also now clearly invested into her tales.
"leah!" you whined shoving her shoulder as your girlfriend pinched your inner thigh, having tapped you a few times and getting no response. "i called your name nicely first! space cadet." her hand reached up to poke at your cheek as you pushed it away and sat back properly.
"you know the girl from the bakery we like yeah? the one who always slips us extra pastries when the boss isn't in, olivia? olive? i think its olivia." leah again tried to draw you in as you shook your head.
"you're a terrible gossip williamson, watch the girls! and you, stop encouraging her less!" you warned the grinning blonde beside you who shrugged, kyras head popping over her shoulder matching her eagerness. "why? she's a great story teller!" the australian defended as leah hit your knee with a happy smirk and you rolled your eyes.
"stop yapping and support your teammates! all three of you." you warned a little more sternly, the younger girls beside you deflating somewhat as leah rolled her eyes but turned around to face the pitch, sipping at her shake.
but once the beverage was finished it failed to serve as a distraction, leah growing restless and leaning over to tap alessia's knee and you sighed as within seconds both her and kyra were once more hanging off your girlfriends every syllable.
"-the florist!" you only caught the last of your girlfriends sentence, drawn into the conversation by the loud gasps of shock from the younger girls beside you and even frida who leah seemed to have sucked in now too.
"wait what?" you questioned with a frown, clearly having missed the build up as you watched manu make a diving save and breathed a sigh of relief.
"well well well. look who wants in on the gossip train!" leah smirked as you rolled your eyes and shook your head, ignoring her and instead turning back to the game. "whatever." you rolled your eyes stubbornly, focusing on the pitch again but feeling leahs eyes bore up into you.
"fine! you've twisted my arm, i'll tell you." leah tapped your thigh to gain your attention back as you couldn't help but be amused by her obvious enthusiasm. "back to my original question, you know the florist-" leah began tracking backward as you nodded.
"the one near the bakery we like, i do. what about him?" you frowned as leah huffed. "bubba theres layers to this story, don't interrupt!" the blonde warned sternly wagging a finger at you as you shoved alessia who giggled.
"well the florist. so he's married yeah? he has that photo of his wife and kid on the counter, and he always has that gold wedding band on. i remember because its got his wives initials carved into it which is quite cute, or maybe its their kids initials?" leah frowned, pausing as you again nodded though this time wordlessly.
"anyway not important. well i went in to see him on tuesday, remember i got you that huge bouquet and brought you breakfast in bed and then we had second bre-" you hurried to cover her mouth as the tips of your ears flushed red.
"leah what we do in the bedroom is private!" you hissed in warning for the words which you'd stopped before they fell. "we already heard about it when she told us the story." kyra piped up cheekily as you groaned and removed your hand, shrinking a little in embarrassment.
"anyway. well i went in on tuesday and no wedding band, no picture." leah continued on completely ignoring your reaction, pulling your hand away and kissing your knuckles sweetly before letting go.
"which is weird right? but then i also went to the bakery because as we both know their bread is the very best bread for a ham sandwich. so i went in to get a loaf and i noticed there was a different woman serving, not olivia or olive whatever her name is who usually always works on tuesdays." leahs eyes narrowed as you hummed to show you were listening.
"so i subtly asked, more so joked really, about where she was. turns out she's on maternity leave? i didn't even notice she was pregnant but apparently she's due in a few weeks!" leah scoffed in disbelief as you frowned, also not having picked up on that throughout the many months you and leah had frequented the bakery.
"so while i was waiting for the bread, and i won't lie babe i did get a croissant and finish it before i got home so you wouldn't know." leah smiled apologetically as you shoved her head with a playful roll of your eyes.
"but this is the scandal of it all. so i overheard one of the bakers on the phone and it turns out that-" leah was cut off as cheers errupted around meadow park, the final whistle blowing signalling the game was over and arsenal had indeed reigned victorious.
you waited patiently for leah to finish, watching as she placed her palms on your knees and used them to help her push up to her feet before holding out her hands to help you up.
"turns out that..." you trailed off eagerly with wide eyes as the rest of the girls began to jog out onto the pitch to congratulate everyone and greet the fans.
"i'll tell you later. come on gorgeous!" leah kissed your cheek and wandered off after lia as your jaw dropped. "what happened?" you grabbed alessia with wide eyes who shrugged. "its leahs story! i'll probably miss details and tell it wrong." the blonde tugged her hands away and followed after kyra as you groaned.
"leah!" you huffed in annoyance, hurrying after her and hating how much she'd peaked your curiousity.
"leah you can't leave it there, finish the story!" you whined catching up to her as lia just smiled in amusement not even needing to know the context as your girlfriend just tutted and slung an arm over your shoulder, kissing your cheek again with a grin.
"nah we can gossip all you want on the drive home, right baby?"
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athenamikaelson · 5 months ago
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Klaus Mikaelson x Soulmate!Reader x Elijah Mikaelson Pt. 
Word Count- 5.5k
Warnings- Swearing, violence, spoilers for canon, abusive dads, trauma, reader having bad responses to her trauma.
“Wait, you’re telling me that I miss ghosts coming back and terrorizing Damon just because I went to a doctor’s appointment?”
I deadpan at Ric as he looked over a bunch of pictures and drawings they had found in some mystery tunnel. 
“That’s what you get for going to the doctor,” Damon smirks at me as he and Elena spar. 
“Oh, I’m sorry, Demon. Next time I just won’t get shot,” I shoot a glare at him and he rolls his eyes. Elena uses this moment to try to throw a punch at the vampire but Damon easily catches it. 
Elena sighs defeated and then turns to me, “How did your appointment go? Any good news?”
I roll my left shoulder and then shrug, “Nothing really new. The doctor did say I’m healing faster than anyone he’s seen before though,” This gains all three of their attention, “He chalked it up to my wonderful youth.”
“Well that’s good,” Elena smiles happily.
“And he said he liked my birthmark.”
“You have a birthmark?”
I look over to Ric who is looking at me questionably.
“Ya, she’s got like a smudge on her shoulder,” Damon jests and I glare at him.
“It’s not a smudge you asshat.”
“Don’t be mean Damon,” Elena defends me, “Personally I love Y/N’s birthmark. I think it’s cute. Almost looks kinda like the moon.”
I walk over to Elena and we both glare at the blue-eyed vamp who just rolls his eyes again. 
“Thank you, my love,” I look over to my best friend who is sporting a light pink tint to her cheeks at the nickname.
“Of course, my beautiful best friend,” Elena smiles back and we both giggle.
“Can y'all just kiss and get it over with,” Damon groans out.
“You wish you had a boyfriend the way I have my girlfriend, Damon. Your jealousy is oozing off of you,” I smile at the man and he purses his lips and then goes over to Ric.
A buzzing in my pocket has me separating from my friend and grabbing my phone. 
“Oh shit,” I whisper out and quickly grab my jacket off a nearby chair.
“Where are you going,” Elena asks to me as I book it to the front door.
“Theo’s tire popped and he’s supposed to be at practice in 2 minutes. So I have to go rescue him. Toddles!”
“Thanks for picking me up,” I groan as Theo grabs his football padding from the trunk of my car and puts them into my arms.
“Ya, whatever,” I struggle to carry it all as Theo closes the trunk and makes me follow him towards the school.
“Dude take your shit before I drop it,” I groan out to my brother who turns back and gives me a look before dramatically sighing and grabbing the gear from my hands.
“You need to start hitting weights. I’m bulking up this season so you can join me,” My brother says excitedly. 
I stare at him in disgust, “Oh ya cause that sounds like great sibling bonding time to me.”
“Do you know how many people would kill to be my sibling,” Theo asks and I shoot him a blank look.
“Many people, nerd. Many a people,” I fight the urge to laugh at my brother’s dramatics as his mood instantly brightens, “There’s the guys! I got to go, see you later nerd.” 
I stand there for a moment as I watch my brother run off to his teammates. Oddly enough though after going like 10 feet he stops and turns around. He quickly runs over to me and for a second I think he’s going to knock me down but instead, he balances his gear on one hand, and with the other he side-hugs me. 
“Even though other people want to be my sibling, I wouldn’t want any of those hoes,” Theo lets go of me and gives me a boyish grin, “You’re kind of a cool sister. Even if you are a nerd.”
Theo turns back around and I can’t fight the huge smile that comes over my face as I watch my little brother instantly start bickering with his teammates. 
“You guys have a cute relationship,” A feminine British voice makes my smile instantly drop.
“Hello Rebekah,” I turn around and come face to face with the pretty blonde Mikaelson. 
“That’s your little brother I assume. He looks just like you,” She smiles at me but I don’t return it.
“What do you want?”
Rebekah doesn’t seem to be unsettled by my prickly attitude as she continues talking. 
“I was wondering if you’d like to get lunch with me. Or perhaps go dress shopping? Homecoming is coming up and I’ve never been to one so I could use some help.”
My eyes narrow in confusion, “You’ve never been to a homecoming? Aren’t you like a million years old?”
Rebekah seems momentarily annoyed by my comment but quickly brushes it off, “I spent much of my life following my brothers around. Neither of which care for the dramatics that come with high school. So no, I haven’t been to a high school dance.”
I think about what she said for a moment and a smirk graces my lips at the thought of posh Elijah at a homecoming dance. 
“You’re not missing out on much,” I pick at the thread of my shirt, “I mean, not that I would know. I’ve never been to one either.”
At this Rebekah frowns, “You’ve never been! Why not?”
I shrug at Rebekah’s question, “Public places with tons of people aren’t really my thing. I’d rather be alone than be in a room with a bunch of drunk, loud teenagers.”
I move around the Original and start walking towards my car but inwardly groan when I hear her footsteps behind me.
“Great! Then we can experience it for the first time together!”
I bite my lip in anger and whip around, “What are you doing?”
Rebekah’s face morphs into one of confusion, “What do you mean?”
I gesture to her and then to me, “This! Why are you trying so hard to be around me? Did your brother put you up to this? He’s already making Alastair follow me around like a dog, so what about you?”
At my outburst, the girl frowns, “I heard about what my brother did. His ways of caring for people aren’t always shown in the best ways,” She smiles softly at me, “But I swear to you my brother didn’t put me up to this. I just…would like a friend…I would like you to be my friend.”
I look at Rebekah and try to find any signs of deceit in her face but I can’t seem to find any.
“You can’t just have friends, Rebekah. Friendships are built on trust. I can’t be friends with you unless you prove to me that I can trust you.”
Rebekah seems to take this as a approval as she quickly nods her head, “Great! Then I’ll just make you trust me. Can I have your phone number so I can text you? That’s what it is called right? I’m still quite new to this ages technology.”
I sigh and then reach out my hand and Rebekah smiles grabbing her phone from her pocket and placing it in my hand. I go to her contacts and type in my number and hand the phone back to the smiling blonde. 
I turn around and head to my car but hear the blonde call after me.
“I’ll text you!”
Rebekah wasn’t joking when she said she’d text me because approximately an hour later I’m pulling up to the Salvatore house because she practically begged me to meet her here.
“Y/N? What are you doing here?”
I turn around and spot Elena getting out of her SUV. 
“Rebekah asked me to come,” I frown at my friend’s worried expression, “What are you doing here?”
“She asked me to come as well.”
Elena and I warily eye each other for a moment before walking up to the front door. Elena goes first as she pushes the front door open and my ears are assaulted by loud pop music.
Elena shoots me a look over her shoulder and I shrug as we make our way into the foyer. We begin walking into the living room but stop when a smiling She-Klaus walks over to us with champagne in her hands.
“Hey, what’s up?”
“You invited me over to talk,” Elena says from beside me, not matching Rebekah’s cheery attitude.
“I’m not exactly sure why I’m here,” I raise a finger.
Rebekah looks at us and then turns around, “Alright, girls. Have at it.”
I’m confused on who she’s talking to for a moment but then when a group of girls wearing homecoming dresses enter the living room in a line, I have my answer.
“What the hell,” I whisper to Elena who looks as shocked and confused as me. 
“Okay, now twirl, please,” Rebekah asks the girls and I watch in disgust as they all oblige.
“You’ve compelled your own private runway show?”
I nod along to Elena’s question because I’m also thinking the same.
“I need a homecoming dress. So what do you think? Pick one” Rebekah says as if this is totally normal behavior. 
“I know you’re new to this whole thing…and century. But most people just go to the store and try on the dresses. Not compel a bunch of innocent girls to parade around in them.”
Rebekah frowns at me. 
“We’re not here to help you shop. I’m here to talk about why you don’t want me to wake up Mikael.”
Rebekah smirks at Elena’s comment for a moment before flashing behind a blonde girl. I jump back slightly as I watch her fangs protrude from her gums as she puts them near the girl's throat. 
Elena takes a step forward and I follow.
“I said pick one, Elena.”
Elena looks a me for a moment before pointing to one of the girls, “The red one.”
“There,” Rebekah smooths out the blonde girl's hair, “That wasn’t so hard, was it? Go away. Remember nothing.”
I watch disturbed as the girls walk back out of the room and Rebekah comes back over to us. 
“You do not threaten me,” Rebekah stares Elena down and I move slightly in front of my friend, “You will learn what I allow you to learn. Is that clear?”
Elena nods from beside me and Rebekah moves around us and out of the room. Elena and I shoot each other another look before following the girl upstairs and into Stefan’s room where Rebekah is starting to go through the broody vampire’s things. 
“We shouldn’t be here,” Elena says standing next to me in the doorway.
“Of course, we should,” Rebekah says as she picks up a pair of boxers, making me frown in disgust, “Come on. Like you’ve never wanted to snoop. Boxer briefs. Now that’s a change from the ‘20s.”
“Ew. TMI.”
“Are you gonna root through his stuff all night or are you gonna start to tell us your story?”
Rebekah sighs, “You really are no fun,” She turns to me, “Why are you friends with such a bore?”
“One thing you should learn about me Rebekah,” I glare at the blonde, “I am not friends with people who insult my friends.”
Rebekah stares at me for a moment before rolling her eyes and muttering something under her breath. 
“What do you want to know?”
Elena takes a step into the room, “Elijah said that your father was a landowner in Europe. How did you guys end up here?”
At the mention of the suited Original, a warm feeling brushes my cheeks.
“My parents had just started a family when a plague struck their homeland. They lost a child to it. They wanted to escape and protect their future family from the same fate.”
A wave of sadness washes over me at the mention of Rebekah losing her sibling. I couldn’t imagine what I would do if I ever lost Theo. No matter how many headaches he gives me, the boy is practically my son.
“So how did you end up here,” Elena prods, “This part of the world hadn’t been discovered yet.”
Rebekah scoffs, “Not by anyone in your history books. But my mother knew the witch Ayana who heard from the spirits of a mystical land where everyone was healthy. Blessed by the gifts of speed and strength. That led my family here where we lived amongst those people.”
“The werewolves?”
“To us, they were just our neighbors. My family lived in peace with them for over 20 years during which my family had more children including me.”
“So… technically you’re American?” 
My question has both of the girls shooting me frowns but I lightly laugh at myself for the comment. 
“You make it sound so normal,” Elena comments. 
Rebekah walks towards a window and for a second I can see a thoughtful smile on her face, “It was. Once a month our family retreated to the caves underneath our village. The wolves would howl through the night and by morning we’d return home. One full moon, Klaus and my youngest brother Henrik snuck out to watch the men turn into beasts. That was forbidden. Henrik paid the price.”
A deep breath escapes my lips as the girl continues her story.
“And that was the beginning of the end of peace with our neighbors,” Rebekah turns back to look at us, “And one of the last moments my family had together as humans.”
The buzzing of Elena’s phone distracts us.
Rebekah coughs, “You better get that. That’ll be…Damon checking up on you.”
Elena turns around and answers the call as I walk over to Stefan’s desk and start rummaging through his things. I never said I was a Saint.
“Was that Stefan?’’
Elena’s question has me turning around and frowning. 
“Damon, how could you let him out,” Elena exclaims and I frown.
“That didn’t sound good.”
“Did you get your fill of snooping yet,” Elena asks Rebekah who is lying down on Stefan’s bed reading one of his many diaries, “Can we get on with the story?”
I watch from my seat on the floor as Rebekah throws the book onto the bed and stands up. She walks over to the desk by Elena and picks up a framed picture of the couple. 
“Honestly, I don’t get you two as a couple,” Rebekah shakes her head at my friend. 
“Why would you? You don’t know anything about who he really is,” Elena defends and Rebekah smiles at her and puts the frame back down. 
Rebekah leans down to make eye contact with my friend and I straighten up, “I know exactly who he is. He’s a vampire. We’re a predatory species. We don’t have time to care about humans and their silly little lives.”
“I don’t believe that,” I say but they don’t hear me. Or at least don’t acknowledge me. 
“Is that why you did that runway show earlier,” Elena snarks back and I bite my lip nervously as I have the feeling that a catfight is about to begin, “Because you don’t care about the homecoming dance?”
Rebekah stands up and Elena nods at her, “You know what? I’m just gonna go,” She turns to me, “Y/N you coming?”
I groan as I can practically hear my bones creaking as I stand up.
“You haven’t even heard half the story,” Rebekah calls to Elena. 
Elena turns around to her, “And you’re not going to tell it. You’re just bored and looking for someone to push around. Find someone else to play with. Maybe you can compel yourself a friend.”
OOP.
“The necklace wasn’t Stefan’s to give,” At Rebekah’s words I instantly sit my ass back down. This time on the comfy mattress. 
“It belonged to the original witch.”
Elena turns around, “The one who put the hybrid curse on Klaus?”
“Not just the hybrid curse. She’s the one who turned us into vampires.”
My mouth drops open, “Bomb drop…”
“Vampirism was a form of protection?”
Elena asks as Rebekah continues telling her story as we make our way down the stairs. 
“What else would it be?”
“A curse.”
“My parents only sought a way of keeping their children alive,” Rebekah answers.
“Yeah, but why stay? If they were so afraid of the werewolves why not leave?”
“Pride,” Rebekah says as she steps off the last stair and turns back to us, “My father didn’t want to run anymore. He wanted to fight and be superior to the wolves. Where they could bite we had to bite harder. Where they had speed we had to be faster. Agility, strength, senses.’’
Rebekah continues telling us the story of how the spell of vampirism came down to her mother’s hands since the other witch wouldn’t help them.
“In her hands? How could she do anything?”
Elena asks and I feel like I already know the answer. I mean if they’re called “The Originals,” I’m assuming the “Original” witch has something to do with them.
“Because my mother was also a witch.”
“What?”
“The witch of the original family.”
“The original witch,” I finish for her and Rebekah smirks at me.
We make our way into the living room and I plant myself on my favorite couch. 
“Where do they keep their best vintage,” Rebekah asks. 
“But if your mother was a witch then..”
“Am I? No,” The vampire finishes, “A witch is nature’s servant. A vampire is an abomination of nature. You can either be one or the other never both,” Rebekah fishes out a bottle of wine and then turns to Elena, “My mother did this for us. She did not turn.”
“How did you turn?”
Rebekah pours herself a glass and then walks over to the fireplace, “She called upon the sun for life and the ancient white oak tree one of nature’s eternal objects, for immortality. That night, my father offered us wine laced with blood.”
I almost gag at that.
“And then he drove his sword through our hearts.”
My heart clenches as Rebekah’s voice slightly cracks. 
“He killed you,” Elena says.
“And he wasn’t delicate about it either,” Rebekah says with tears and her eyes and quickly breaks the cap off the wine bottle. 
“We had to drink more blood to complete the ritual. It was euphoric. The feeling of power was indescribable. But the witch Ayana was right about consequences. The spirits turned on us and nature fought back. For every strength, there would be a weakness. The sun became our enemy. It kept us indoors for weeks. Although my mother found a solution. There were other problems. Neighbors who had opened their homes for us could now keep us out. Flowers at the base of the white oak burned and prevented compulsion. And the spell decreed that the tree that gave us life could also take it away. So we burned it to the ground.”
Metal.
“But the darkest consequence is something my parents never anticipated. The hunger. Blood had made us reborn and it was blood that we craved above all else. We could not control it. And with that… the predatory species was born.”
“I need a cigarette,” I say out loud as I sigh into my hands at the migraine of an origin story.
“Why did Mikael start hunting Klaus,” Elena asks not giving anyone time to catch their breaths. 
“When Nik made his first human kill,” Nik? “It triggered his werewolf gene. With that, he came my father’s greatest shame.”
“Yeah,” Elena responds, “Elijah told us this part of the story. Your mother had had an affair with one of the werewolf villagers.”
I look down at my hands as Elena and Rebekah continue speaking about Klaus’ father and I have to fight back showing any emotion as I think back to my own father, or not father I guess. 
“She tried to make it right. She put the hybrid curse on Nik to suppress his werewolf side and then she turned her back on him. But Mikael’s greatest weakness as a human was his pride. As a vampire that was magnified. He went on a rampage and killed half the village.”
Here, I thought my father leaving his family was the worst thing one could do in that situation. 
“Then he came home and killed her.”
“Mikael killed your mother?”
“He said she broke his heart so he would hers. He tore it from her chest as Nik watched. Afterwards, my father took off in a rage and the rest of my family scattered. Nik stayed so he could help me bury her. He knew I had to say goodbye to my mother.”
I listen to the rest of Rebekah’s heartbreaking story as she recalls how she and Elijah promised Klaus that the three of them would always be together. Always and forever. 
“Always and forever. Even though he locked you in a coffin for 90 years,” Elena says and I shoot a look at her.
“Dude, really?”
“We’re vampires. Our emotions are heightened. I’m stubborn, Elijah moral, and Nik…Nik has no tolerance for those who disappoint him. Over a thousand years as a family we’ve all made that mistake at least once. I’ve made it several times.”
As Rebekah’s voice softens I have to fight the urge to reach out and comfort her. Being someone who knows what it feels like to be the one disappointing a family member, I can’t help but relate and feel sorry for the girl.
“But you still love him?”
“He’s her brother, Elena,” I turn to her, “What if it were Jeremy? I know that if it were Theo, I couldn’t hate him. Even if he made my life a living hell.”
“She’s right,” Rebekah looks over to me and I can see the appreciation in her eyes, “And I’m immortal. Should I spend an eternity alone instead?”
Rebekah swallows and I think she’s about to start crying but she quickly walks by both of us, “You’ve heard the story. It’s time to go,” She turns to Elena who is just standing there, “I said leave, Elena! I don’t know what you’re up to but I am no longer playing along.”
“I’m just looking for one good reason why we shouldn’t wake Mikael.”
At Elena’s words I frown, “Are you serious Elena? The man literally killed his own children! After, abusing them their whole lives. You may have grown up in a white-picket fence family, but I didn’t. I know men like that, and men like that should stay away.”
Elena looks at me and from the look on her face, she doesn’t seem to understand why I’m defending Rebekah.
“She will anyway,” Rebekah shakes her head, “I know you want him to help you kill my brother. I’m not stupid.”
“It’s no secret that I want Klaus dead. He has a hold over Stefan’s life and over mine,” Elena points back to me, “And he’s terrorizing Y/N.”
Rebekah glares down at her, “Do what you need. Wake Mikael at your own peril. But make no mistake. If you come after my brother I will rip you apart. And I get my temper from my father. Now leave.”
Elena looks down and then back to me, “Y/N, come on.”
I look at my friend and then at the vampire, “You go. I have to talk to Rebekah.”
This seems to shock both of them, but I just stare at them blankly. Elena takes this as goodbye as she nods her head and leaves the house. 
After Elena leaves Rebekah and I stand there in silence for a moment, and awkwardly I clear my throat.
“Um, I’m sorry.”
Rebekah looks over to me confused, “What are you sorry for? You did nothing to insult me, unlike your friend.”
I frown at Elena’s behavior and then play with the loose thread on my shirt, “For losing your brother. And your mother. You were just a teenage girl when that happened. You didn’t deserve to have that happen to you.”
Rebekah stares at me almost shocked before she shakes her head and walks over to the couch I’m sitting on. 
“You have nothing to apologize for. It was over a thousand years ago, I’m over it.”
Rebekah sits on the seat next to me and we watch the flames of the fire.
“I don’t believe that. I think a loss like that stays with you. Even after a millennia.”
Rebekah turns to look at me and then nods her head softly, “Thank you, Y/N.”
We continue sitting in silence before I see her move out of the corner of my eye.
“What did you mean,” I turn to her in confusion as she speaks, “When you told Elena you didn’t grow up like she did and you knew about men like my father?”
At Rebekah’s question, I turn away from her curious glance and look back towards the flames, “It doesn’t matter.”
“You can tell me you know? It’s not like I have any other friends to go spill your secrets to.” 
At Rebekah’s words, I bite down hard on my lip to try to stop the tears that are making their way into my eyes. The urge to finally spill on the secret that I’ve been holding in all summer, building inside of me. 
“My father…growing up wasn’t the kindest man,” I say out loud trying to be careful with my words, “He was absent a lot but… those were the good moments, oddly enough, because, whenever he did come home… he was,” I stop, trying to find the right words to describe my estranged “not” father, “he was harsh. Nothing was ever good enough for him. No one was ever good enough for him. Certainly not me. He was the stereotypical macho man who thought that women weren’t equal to men. So whenever I showed strength in something, he made sure to kick me back down. Just to remember how weak I could be.”
I don’t realize I’m crying until Rebekah places a tissue into my hands. I’m not really sure where she got it but I take it and wipe away my tears.
“You mention him in past tense…is he…” 
I shake my head, “No, he’s not dead. He and my mother separated about two years ago. I haven’t seen him since.”
Rebekah doesn’t say anything as she waits to see if I’ll continue and I sigh as I try to.
“I didn’t know why they did. My mother always just kind of let it happen you know? The abuse. I don’t even know if you would call it that. It’s not like he hit me or whatever. Others have had it worse. My mother though just always told me not to provoke him, not to make him mad. But, she really wasn’t ever the one who got the brunt of it,” I bite down on my lip harder, “And you want to know the worst thing about it? Three months ago my mother told me that the man that had made me cry into my pillow since I was 8 years old… wasn’t even my actual father.”
I hear Rebekah let in a breath as she continues watching me.
“How fucked up is that, you know,” I laugh with tears in my eyes at the irony of it all.
“Did she tell you who your real father was?”
I shake my head at her question, “Just the bare minimum. I’ve barely talked to her since that day anyway. It’s the reason I have my own room down the hall,” I point towards the direction of my room at the Salvatore’s, “Damon’s let me crash here the entire summer. He’s the only other person who knows.”
“Not even your brother?”
I quickly shake my head and wipe the rest of my tears away, “Especially not, Theo. He’s so young and with the move and everything I don’t want him to be stressed out.” 
I can see Rebekah looking at me as if she’s trying to find the right words to say, “Is that the only reason you haven’t told him?’’
My eyebrows furrow as I keep staring at the fireplace, “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“I think you’re worried that he won’t accept you. Nik had that same fear after he found out he wasn’t Mikael’s.”
“I am not Klaus,” I bite out and she just nods.
“I know. But you can’t deny the similarities,” I don’t say anything as I try not to think of her words, “I know I haven’t been here very long but… just from seeing Theo and you a few times, I don’t think you have to worry about telling him. If he truly loves you he’ll accept you no matter what.”
I finally think about Rebkeah’s words and in doing so, don’t even notice the front door being swung open. 
Rebekah sighed deeply from beside me as she stood up, “I thought I told you to leave twice.”
“How do you know Mikael killed your mother,” Elena’s question has me turning slightly to hear her better.
“Nik was there,” Rebekah says as she pours herself a drink, “He told me.”
Elena sighs and she steps closer to Rebekah, “He lied to you.”
“And how do you know that?”
Elena walks over to us and I put my face down slightly so she can’t see the dried tears on my cheeks.
“The cave where you carved your family’s names, is covered in symbols. The story of your family. How your parents arrived, how they made peace, the spell that turned them into vampires, and this,” She places a photograph on the table, “This is the symbol for hybrid. It’s the combination of the werewolf and the vampire symbol. And this is the one for your mother.”
“Her necklace.”
Elena sighs, “And this is the story of her death. The hybrid killed the original witch. Not Mikael, Klaus.”
I turn fully at them both. Surprise is most likely clear on my face.
“No,” Rebekah forcefully shakes her head, “No, he wouldn’t.”
“She put the curse on him, made it so that he would be the only one of his kind and then she rejected him. With the werewolf gene comes aggression and violence. When he turned all of that was heightened. He killed her, Rebecca, and then he made up this entire lie about your father so that he wouldn’t lose you.” 
“These mean nothing. They’re just stupid drawings done by stupid people who had no idea who my family was,” Rebekah yells as she grabs the pictures and flings them into the fireplace. 
Elena approaches her, “Then why are you so upset?”
“Elena stop, just leave her alone,” I tell my friend but she ignores me. 
“Why are you doing this to me? I’ve done nothing to you,” Rebekah yells at her.
“Klaus killed your mother. He has a hold on you, on me, on everyone. He has for a thousand years. We have to make it stop!”
“Shut up! Just shut up! Don’t talk anymore! Nothing!”
I quickly stand up as Rebekah pushes Elena into the wall forcefully. 
“Rebekah!” 
After a moment Rebekah drops her hands and stands there silently with tears in her eyes. Elena and I watch cautiously but not even a moment later a sob escapes the blonde’s mouth as she drops to her knees. Elena looks over to me and I shake my head at her. 
“Go.”
I don’t even check to see if she leaves as I kneel down to the sobbing girl. I place a comforting hand on her shoulder and I gasp as I’m being pulled into a hug. Rebekah holds onto me for dear life as she cries into my shoulder. And I let her. 
I sigh as I throw my keys onto my kitchen table and sit down. I put my head in my hands and try to forget the shitshow that was tonight. 
“Damn bitch!”
Theo’s screech has me whipping around in my chair in shock. My brother stands there in his satin pajamas he got for Christmas last year with a hand over his heart.
“Fucking sitting in the dark like some goddamn stalker,” Theo walks over to the light switch and I try to stop him but it’s too late.
Theo’s smirk instantly drops as he rushes over to me and places his hands on the sides of my face, “What happened? Did someone say something to you? If it was someone at school tell me and I and Jeremy will go beat their asses right now.”
My brother’s angry tone has me smiling for a moment but before I can stop it tears are streaming out of my eyes and a sob escapes my mouth.
My little brother just stands there awkwardly as he pats my shoulder.
“Do you want to talk about it? Um, should I call Elena or Mom?”
At the mention of our mother, I quickly shake my head, “No. I’m fine. Just a long day and all. I just need some sleep. Go back to bed, Theodore.”
Theo shakes his head and tries to deny my request but I shoo him away. As I watch his retreating figure I sigh and take a deep breath.
“Actually Theo…there’s something we need to talk about.”
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darkficsyouneveraskedfor · 24 days ago
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A Barter 3
Warnings: suggestions of death, I am a dark blog and I write dark things.
Summary: You are bargained to be wife to the witcher if he can slew the beast in the village.
Character: Geralt of Rivia
**note, I am not a Witcher genius or aficionado and so I may get some things wrong.
As usual, I appreciate any and all feedback and enthusiasm. Please reblog and leave a comment. Love! 😍
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There’s a hush throughout the barn. The guildmen crowd around the doors as Todrick presses himself to the wood. With the help of several others, he lifts the bar that keeps the entrance in place. You sit with Marsh and watch patiently. A group of women titter nervously and wring their hands. 
The end of the bar hits the ground with an echoing thunk and the men angle it away to lean against a post. The doors shift as the clustered bodies let them open bit by bit. The smell of dew pervades the space, swallowing up the stink of confinement. 
There’s a gasp and the doors are let go. The daylight pours over Todrick and the guildmen. They stare out into the village. 
“The fog has lifted,” Marsell declares. 
“The witcher has slain the beast,” Todrick adds. 
The women creep forward as your little brother stirs against you. His head is wobbly as he sits up, still confused in the dregs of sleep. You rub his bony back and peer around. Your father sits in a corner, as despondent as the day the witcher came. 
“Is it true?” Caralyn appears with her sisters, Orania and Aster, “has he done it?” 
You look over at the doors as Todrick fusses with the short sword on his belt and steps out with heavy hesitance in his boots. Marsell keeps close as he follows and the other men clutch their tools, hammers and sickles alike, as they brave the open air. 
“I am to be wed,” you squeeze Marsh’s shoulder. 
“Will you go away?” Your brother asks. “Like mother and Lessa?” 
You share a look with Caralyn, “I will go wherever my husband bids, Marsh. And I shall miss you and father but perhaps he would be gracious to let me visit.” 
Marsh sniffles, “I will be alone.” He wipes his cheeks mournfully, “without Lessa, without mother, and father...” 
“You will have us,” Caralyn says. “We have all lost those we love so we must learn to love what is left.” 
He nods but continues to snivel. He turns and clings to you, “promise you’ll come back. Promise.” 
You pet his head as icy hollowness consumes you. You stare up at your loyal friend. You gulp, “I promise, Marshy. I will see you again.” 
Caralyn gives a bittersweet smile before her sisters tear her way. They catch up to her brothers as the men without holler. “It is gone. It is clear.” 
A cheer goes up and draws the women from their fear as they creep forward to see through the barn doors. You stay as you are as those who live erupt in glee. Marsh continues to weep as you find not well to draw from. You are empty. 
Your strength only comes with the approach of hooves. You lift your head and look at the wall as if you might see through it. You gently urge your brother away and take him by the hand. You bring him up with you and near the doors. 
The dark horse and its rider come up between what is left of the mill and a house. There is ruin left in the wake of the unnatural fog. Whatever that monster was, it ate at more than the living. 
You step out with Marsh and stop him. You bend to hug him and whisper to him, “I love you brother, keep well.” 
“Sister,” he sobs as you pull back. 
You give him over to Caralyn and she ushers him away, her own face streaked in grief. A sombre air falls over the uproar. The villagers quiet and Todrick looks in your direction. The rest follow his gaze. They watch as you stride toward the witcher. 
He slows his steed and looks down upon you. You bow your head, “you have defeated the evil as promised, sir, and so, on behalf of my people, I will fulfill my duty. We are most grateful for your service.” 
You keep your chin down, your body rigid, your spirit shaky. He does not respond but to extend his arm, his leather gauntlet filling your vision. You steel yourself and latch onto him. He hauls you up and sits you in front of him. He clicks his tongue and the horse sweeps around and canters away. 
Just like that, as swiftly as he came, you are gone off to your fate. A witcher’s wife, whatever that may entail. 
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sterifels-blog · 29 days ago
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creepypasta characters – how they’d react to you being upset over a small inconvenience 🤏
BEN drowned
•mocking sarcasm: “oh no, did the big scary printer jam again? total apocalypse. truly.” what became clear in his death, was he did, in fact, take his childish personality with him. he is no better than jeff when it comes down to teasing you for your dismays.
•playful teaser. he glitches around the room, mimicking your upset tone in a distorted voice, just to annoy you. it's spiteful, a little ignorant, but it's something you've come to grow used to. some things were just inevitable with BEN, and his torment was one of those things.
•offers digital comfort. BEN hacks a random game to create a hidden message for you, like “cheer up, loser.” if you don't reciprocate any sort of reaction back- you best believe he will be petty enough to rig a match for you. not so you can win, no. so you lose. just to agitate you again.
•awkward, awkward softness: if you’re seriously upset, he stammers, “hey, uh, don’t cry. i… don’t know how to deal with that.” very likely, he panics and goes to grab someone like jack or jane.
•weird with distractions. he'll float around, humming the zelda theme song until you laugh or throw something at him. if it works, it works. either way, you're too focused on smiling, or trying to hit him.
•over-the-top suggestion: “want me to corrupt their computer files? that’ll show them.”
•king of small gestures. leaves a pixelated heart drawn in a game you’re playing, then pretends it wasn’t him.
bloody painter:
•he observes quietly. sits in eerie silence, studying your emotions like he’s painting a mental portrait.
•when he is finished staring (although, admittedly, he does quite like the sight of you), he will offer some deadpan advice:
•“if it doesn’t matter in five years, it’s not worth ruining your eyeliner over.”
•if verbal reassurance doesn't do it for you, willingly, he'll engage in a paint-based gesture for his angel. he draws something comforting or silly (alternatively, absolutely crude) on a scrap of paper and hands it to you without a word, hoping it makes some difference.
•dark humor (where it is, and isn't appropriate.) “want me to take care of whoever pissed you off?” half-joking. maybe. if you say no, there is some genuine disappointment left lingering in his eyes. a missed opportunity to stock-up.
•unexpected comfort. gently touches your face and says some cheesy bullshit like, “the colors of sadness suit you, but i’d rather see you smile". he knows he's succeeded in making you feel something other than upset, when you are pressing your palm against his face and pushing him away with a groan of annoyance.
•will go extreme measures to make you a distracting gift. offers to paint you something. it’s his way of saying sorry.
•serious effort: if you’re really upset, he’ll spend hours creating something meaningful to cheer you up. although you'd clearly specified you didn't want him to maul the poor man who'd taken the last pint of your favorite ice cream flavor; the red coating of the little house he'd made you (in respect to the small abode you will "most definitely have" together), spoke otherwise to him listening.
•it's fucking disgusting, but don't discard it. it's the.. 'sweetest' way he shows that he cares.
clockwork:
•chaotic comfort. immediately threatens to stab whatever inconvenienced you. “who do i need to ‘fix’ for this?”
•pactical help (or a lack thereof): she does actually try to solve the problem for you, but gets frustrated if it’s not instant.
•(unhelpful) teasing: “aww, does my little clock need winding? let’s fix your mood.”
•joking aggression: “you’re upset? try getting stabbed in the eye and tell me how you feel". she soon after realizes this probably wasn't the best way to get through to you, and instead resorts to gently carding her fingers through your hair, sitting in an awkward silence after.
•when the silence gets to be too much, the most rational conclusion she could come up with was a random distraction. tosses something shiny or makes a loud noise to snap you out of it, almost, most definitely getting a sick kick of amusement when you jump in a startle.
•clumsy affection: roughly pulls you into a hug afterwards and says, “you’ll be fine. i’ve seen you handle worse.”
•this is shortly after followed by a soft admission. “i don’t like seeing you like this. it’s weird.” no sympathy on her face, just her nose being scrunched up in discomfort. but you can tell she means her words.. more for her sake.
eyeless jack
•jack is a quiet observer. he always has been, and will be. he notices you’re upset but waits for you to bring it up, not wanting to push you down a further slope than you were already on.
•when you finally begin to talk to him, for the most part, he simply listens. but if he notices it's getting to be too much, he'll offer some gentle reassurance: his voice is calm, almost nonchalant as he says, “it’s okay. you can talk to me.” he means it.
•words aren't easy for him. he's used to being silent, tucked away to the confines of his laboratory. it's why he chooses a more physical approach. cooking comfort. jack makes you a meal without being asked—though you might not want to know the ingredients. just eat it, and thank him.
•when he does speak, he offers the most practical advice out of the bunch: “you’ll survive. you’re stronger than whatever this is.”
•he's cold, but caring: “if it’s not life-threatening, it’s not worth worrying about. but... i get it.”
•soft-spoken comfort: stays close by, quietly grounding you with his presence. he'll offer you a spot in his laboratory for the time being, leaving you to watch as he hustles and bustles about. he isn't a fan of people in his space- in the slightest. but for you, he doesn't mind the company, so long as it helps. he won't directly admit it, but seeing you upset does something to his heart.
•it unfortunately, wouldn't be jack without some out of pocket, and highly untimed dark humor. he's working on his current 'patient', his scalpel against the lining of their abdomen when he would pause, as though an idea surfaced.
•“would harvesting an organ cheer you up? no? worth a shot.”
hoodie
•takes a more casual approach compared to the others. nudges your shoulder and says some nonchalant shit like; “what’s got you so down?”
•followed by some super-chill reassurance: “it’s not the end of the world. i’ve seen worse.”
•says it in a tone that makes him sound like he genuinely doesn't give a fuck, and is instead saying it in prayer god gives him a second chance for being 'kind'. he does, genuinely care however. he wouldn't have asked if he didn't.
•when he realizes it's something 'trivial' (in his mind), he'll give you some lighthearted distraction. hoodie offers to hang out or go on a random drive to take your mind off it. if you accept to hang out, you're both watching some rag-tag channel that your old, boxy ass television could pull up. it's absolutely shit. if you accept the drive, the radio is on, playing some old song that helps you clear your mind. the two of you definitely get going.
•if it's not the radio you're focused on, it's his singing. it's either god awful, and it makes you want to die more than whatever inconvenienced you at first, or he should have been a choir boy.
•snack attack: you two pull into a gas station along the way to fill up the old piece of rust. he goes in, comes back out with a pack of cigarettes and some chips in hand. he'll carelessly throw the bag of chips at you and say, “here. don’t say i never do anything for you.”
•soft teasing: “you’re cute when you’re mad, but let’s not make it a habit.”
•followed by some subtle care: puts his hoodie around your shoulders if you look especially down, or you're out late on your drive and it's getting cold.
jason the toymaker
•100% makes a toy bribe: instantly offers to make you a custom toy to cheer you up. “what’s your favorite color again?” it's cheesy, but it does have it's odd way of working it's magic.
•jason can get into quite an overprotective mode, often getting himself frustrated when he cant disect the root of your problem. “what caused this? tell me so I can fix it." .. "am i going to kill them..? what does it matter?"
•the answer is yes. yes, he is.
•soft-spoken comfort: “don’t worry. i’ll always take care of you.” he has a way of reassuring you even when you have your doubts, almost with an expertise that surprises you. if you were ever questioning his genuinity, he's answered for you.
•possessive guilt-tripper. “i don’t like seeing my favorite person like this. smile for me, will you?” he's sweet, in the worst of ways. jason knew all he had to do was flash you that charming smile of his, and you'd bend to his will. it was both a curse and a blessing.
•makes up some distracting hobby. he invites you to join him on a whim in making something to calm your nerves. (he definitely ends up taking over your craft.)
•encourages gentle insistence much like bloody painter. “you’re allowed to be upset, but not for long. it doesn’t suit you.”
•creepy but.. comforting? reassurance: “nothing bad can happen to you while i’m here. i'll make sure of it.” you aren't allowed out of his sights for a while.
jeff the killer
•mockery overload. “aww, you’re upset? should I call the waaah-mbulance?” he's a fucking asshole and he knows it, but his emotional boundaries hold no shame. if you knew any better, you would think he didn't care if he made you feel better or worse.
•teasing to comfort: purposefully annoys you until you either laugh or yell at him. he is 100%, more than likely aiming for the latter, getting a sick sense of satisfaction from knowing you're wound up now because of him. “see? you’re not upset anymore!”
•he's a twat with territorial anger: if it’s someone else’s fault, he’s immediately ready to fight, thinking of the most irrational ways to kill someone for your sake (though there is already nothing rational about him). “who do i need to carve a smile into?”
•though a selfish sod, he does have some genuinely surprising softness when it comes to you. if you’re genuinely upset, he awkwardly wraps his arm around your shoulder and says, “it’s fine. just... chill, okay?” he's rubbing your back until his hand is numb, or you become agitated.
•clumsy reassurance: “you’ve got me, so who cares about dumb stuff like that?”
•even throughout the comforting, his offer of violence still stands. “say the word, and i’ll make it disappear. permanently.”
•jeff is the absolute fucking worst for guilt deflection. if he caused the inconvenience, he’ll deny responsibility, but quietly try to make it better. he sees admitting to his faults as a weakness, but a few hours later, when he‐ again‐, sees your mood hasn't improved— he's begrudgingly coming over and taking your hand to apologize. his words are lazy sounding, but they are true. it pisses him off that he has to go such lengths to make you feel better, but in the end, it's you. so he'll cope.
jane the killer
•she is a direct comfort sort of woman: “what’s wrong? talk to me.”
•when she notices its an re-occuring issue bothering you more than usual, she'll go into problem-solving mode. jane listens carefully and offers solutions, even if you just want to vent. she loves listening to you talk, even if it's under more unfortunate circumstances.
•has a protective streak much like her male counterpart: “if it’s someone else’s fault, i’ll handle it.” and she means it
•queen of tough love. it's her kingdom. “you’re stronger than this. don’t let it get to you.” she's seen too many people react irrationally because of minor inconveniences (jeff), and she would hate to see you deliberately get into trouble because of something as 'simple' as frustration.
•silent presence: if words won’t help, she stays with you until you feel better. if your room is a mess, she'll clean your clothes off the floor, fold, and carry your laundry to the washer while you relax on your bed. she won't let you leave until she's positive you're at least feeling a little better about your situation, and even then, she's by your side for most the day.
•though she can be just as stubborn as anyone else, jane does make a soft admission: “i hate seeing you so upset. tell me how to help.”
•makes some gentle distraction (unlike clockwork): she suggests watching a movie or doing something fun together to lift your spirits. she will likely end up doing your makeup, the two of you on the floor together until your spirits start to rise.
laughing Jack (i hate this motherfucker)
•over-the-top antics because he's just like that, unfortunately. he's a piece of shit, but tries to make you laugh with ridiculous jokes or obnoxious pranks. a for effort, i guess. he's giving it his best shot.
•much like jeff, being a complete dick, there is that aspect of mock concern: “oh no! we must alert the circus of your sorrow!” sarcastic cunt.
•there is some aspect of unexpected sweetness with him, i would think (hope). if you’re genuinely upset, he tones it down and says, “hey, I don’t like seeing you like this.”
•he's crouching down onto his knees as you sit on the edge of your bed, his large, ugly ass hands cupping your face the best he can without shanking you with his gross, long fingers. his thumbs 'gently' rub your cheeks as he let's you breathe your frustration out.
•clownish ass distractions: pulls out a random toy or silly object to cheer you up. from out of fuck-all nowhere, he pulls a doll out from behind its back. it's even more hideous than him, which is difficult. it's stuffing is gruesomely ripped out, instead, packed full with grotesque looking candies. he'll awkwardly discard it on the floor when he sees it's only made your mood worse. what an idiot.
•chaotic energy: “let’s go do something fun! or dangerous! or both!”
•you don't feel like doing anything
•gentle honesty: “i'm not good at this comforting stuff, but I’m here for you.”, even though you already knew that. though the semblance is appreciated.
kagekao
•you're still a victim of playful mockery. "you look adorable when you’re mad. like a tiny storm cloud". he's mocking you while you want to punch him into a smear.
•teasing distractions. he pokes at your cheeks or steals something of yours to make you chase him. he genuinely does not care that you feel murderous tendencies towards him at the moment. it's his life mission to torment you eternally.
•jovial comfort: “don’t worry, i’ll take care of everything. or, at least, pretend I did.”
•surprise gifts. when he knows he's pushed you too far, he will opt to leave you a random (sometimes unsettling) trinket to cheer you up. he knows he's the source of your agitation, so he tries his 'best' to make up for it.
•more lighthearted annoyance. “you know i can’t take you seriously when you’re pouting like that, right?”
•unexpected wisdom from someone who is such a cunt to deal with. “life’s too short to stress over these things. laugh it off.”
•silently lurks nearby until you calm down, offering his silent presence as comfort.
masky
•masky will often show a reluctant concern, not outright admitting he's worried about your fluctuating attitude, but instead inviting you to chat. “what’s wrong now?” his tone is gruff, but he genuinely cares.
•practical help: masky fixes the problem (if possible) without saying much about it; especially when it comes down to it being an issue with anything containing an engine. if you're frustrated by an issue you're having with your vehicle, calmly, he'll tell you to give him the keys, and if he's feeling nice enough, he'll invite you out to hold the flashlight for him. just make sure you keep it steady.
•vaguely annoyed, but supportive: “seriously? you’re upset over that? fine, let’s deal with it.” he's the type to teach you about fixing your own issues, so you'll know how to deal with it next time.
•protective side: “if you need help with this, come to me. you don't need to be going to.. random guys to fix your car."
•he's definitely jealous at the thought of you going to anyone else for help but him.
•silent comfort if it's anything else that physically, he cant fix. he sits near you, not saying a word but making it clear he’s there for you.
•backhanded affection: “you’re too stubborn to let this keep you down, right?” he knows you'll take it as he's doubting you; and that you'll smarten up quick.
•masky gives you grudging hugs. awkwardly, he pulls you into a hug if you’re really upset— often on the porch as he's having a smoke. you'll be sitting on the steps, tucked up to his side. if he feels nice enough- his jacket will end up slung over your shoulders.
slenderman
•i'm going to be flat with you, he does not care.
•but if he did, he would be calm and composed. it doesn’t affect him, so he has no reason to reacf but to calm you down. “you’re letting this get to you? that’s beneath you.” he sounds unamused.
•stoic support. slenderman offers silent reassurance with his unyielding presence. sometimes he's there, sometimes he isn't. but, you always have that lingering feeling of him being close by. it's both comforting and frightening.
•intimidation tactic: “shall i remove the source of your distress?” he’s deadly serious, for the most part.
•he's slightly patronizing. he doesn't really grasp a sense of confliction about this like you do. he doesn't really get why you're making such a fuss over something so blatant. “this is not worth your energy. focus on what truly matters.”
•both helps and frustrates you more. sometimes it's pointless to explain to him.
•..somewhat gentle understanding. if you’re truly distressed, he places a hand on your shoulder and will tell you to excuse yourself from any activities later in the day.
•eerie distraction: creates a serene yet unnerving environment to take your mind off things. the effort is.. there.
•cryptic advice: “all things are temporary. even this feeling.”
ticci toby
•dry sarcasm “wow, the world’s ending because of this. guess we should all panic.” his tone is teasing but not mean-spirited. he just doesn't understand that it's truly bothering you to that extent, until you breakdown to him.
•gentle understanding: “yeah, okay, I get it. sometimes the little stuff just… builds up.” he leans back and listens without pushing you. he knows you're already overwhelmed, and makes it a point to give you some space while still being there.
•subtle comfort. he offers you his jacket or quietly sits beside you, muttering, “you don’t have to talk about it if you don’t want to. i'm not going anywhere.” like masky, he keeps you close to his side, whether sitting on a log or walking down the path. he'll encourage you to hold onto his arm.
•toby has a protective streak: “tell me who or what caused this. i’ll take care of it.” his voice is calm, but there’s an edge that means he’s serious. he doesn't like the idea of anyone pushing you around— only he can play around with you like that.
•gounding presence: if you’re spiraling, he places a hand on your shoulder or holds your hand. “breathe, okay? just focus on me for a minute.” too many times he's had to do this by himself. he understands the complications of losing yourself— and if you don't have to go through it alone, he won't allow you to.
•dull humor to lighten the mood. "if it makes you feel better, i've probably done something way stupider than whatever you’re upset about.”
•quiet reassurance: “you’ll get through this. you always do. it’s not as big as it feels right now, i promise.” he speaks softly but firmly, making sure you know he’s in your corner. he always is and will be. he's a bit more gentle than the rest.
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aninipanin1 · 16 days ago
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I love your manager reader fics 💕💖💕
I'm curious about adult manager reader first interaction with the world 5 tho 👀 you only write them a bit in passing but I love to read more about em
MISS RIGHT
Notes: I am so glad you asked for this AHAHAHAH and thank you so much for the support
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"You all will be staying here until the matches start, which is scheduled until the end of the second selection. You will be alerted of when this is, so as of now, you all can do whatever it is you wish, even heading out of the facility if ever."
Anri nodded her head at the five players from all over the world, trying her best to make sure her English was atleast understandable. The players did not seem to pay attention to her words all that much, just nodding off at the brief explanation. After all, they were just after the check and well, a few of their own personal agendas. Not anything serious. And well, Anri did not mind at all, leaving them the moment all was said and done.
The facility was rather big, well it was big from the outside but on the inside, it was definitely bigger. Especially since they heard it housed more than 200 teenagers, who all lived here. Well, surely it has to be really big to be comfortable, or it's not and its conditions are inhumane which would definitely get the authorities involved, especially since most of the participants were minors. So that means it was the former.
And with that, each of the 5 foreign players headed somewhere to quell their boredom.
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LEONARDO LUNA
The Spanish player found himself resting in one of the lounge areas of the separated stratum for the staffs to work on to avoid any of the players seeing him and finding out the second plan for their second selection.
He scrolled through his phone mindlessly, finding it a tad bit boring since there was really nothing new about the topics that he liked in general. And he would have continued to be bored until he heard a minor 'thud' hit the floor near him. He admitted, it made his heart jump, and his head whipped in the direction immediately.
Thankfully, it was not as bad as he thought it was, seeing the thud was of a huge pile of papers instead of the person themself slipping on the floor. Like the supposed gentleman he was, he walked to yoh and helped with gathering the scattered paperwork.
"Thank you so much! Sorry for the bother!"
You said, continuously bowing her head while scampering to pick up the paper. It was in Japan's native language, so Luna had no way of understanding what the words were. However, understanding the apologetic tone and the many bows that he knows are respect of some sort in the culture of Japan, he had a vague idea at least.
'Must be something like thank you in Japanese...?'
"It's nothing, Miss-"
He cut himself off, though, when he looked down at the contents of the papers in his hands. It was printed with different japanese texts, all he could not understand, but there are drawings and sketches about some sort of strategy for a real 11 vs 11 match, probably for practice sessions.
But, the placements of the positions were definitely... interesting and even unconventional, to say the least. But, it peeked his interest enough for him to ask you about it.
"Hmm, may I ask Miss. Did you make these?"
Realizing that you were talking to THE Leonardo Luna made you nervous. Clearing your throat, you nodded and spoke in English to try and hopefully cross the language barrier.
"Yes, I did, Sir. Um, I'm the manager and a helper of Ego-san when it comes to training the players."
"Hmm."
He hummed, and that only made the nerves worse. You knew he was judging the positions of the practice sheets you made, which were all just theories you made and have yet to test out. But, here it was, being looked at by a world class player.
'Out of all my work, why this one?!' You panicked in your mind.
However, instead of the scrutiny you thought it would face, he looked to be impressed. Eyes moving about the paper and his mind seeming to run about how each scenario may work, and needless to say, he was impressed with how you formed such a creative way of arranging players with differing talents and skills.
He then looked at you. For someone who does not look like much, you exceeded his expectations. He'd give it to you, you have a creative yet logical and sound mind, a mix of opposing characteristics but meshed well in the sport.
"Is there something wrong, Mr. Luna?"
"No. Nothing's wrong. Just continue being creative, Ms. I like the way your brain works."
He said, leaning close to your face with a smirk filled with mischief and a hint of amazement. Huh, looks like this place is not that bad. He thought the people in here either ranged from crazy to idiotic, but, there are still some people here that is worth the attention.
Needless to say, your first impression on him was more than good.
ADAM BLAKE
It was a few days before the end of the second selection was set, and you were as busy as ever. Stopping by a water fountain set up around the facility, you stopped for a moment to refill your water tumbler while balancing your tablet.
It did not take long before you finished the small task, but before you left the place, you felt someone behind you, his closeness apparent from the way you felt his breath touch the nape of your skin and his body slightly against your back as if your sixth sense themselves felt the pinch of the person's presence.
"Well, well...I did not know there was a beautiful manager around here."
You stopped typing on your tablet before turning around to find yourself face to face with the infamous English player. He was almost twice the size of you, having the advantage of playing a sport professionally and all.
And that fact intimidated you, gulping at the flirtatious smirk on his face as he leaned even more to you while you pulled back to try and avoid his face as much as you could.
"Um, pardon, sir-"
"Adam is fine, sweethcheeks. Damn, you're even prettier up close."
'What is even happening...'
The proximity made you even more nervous and confused. Out of all the people, it was you that he had to approach? And besides, does he not feel shame that there are cameras around the facility or the fact that someone may just pass by and walk in on you two like this? Oh, the scandal that might ensue will ruin your whole career!
And you being quite responsible, knew that the only way to avoid that was to avoid the man himself. So you did just that, calm and sweetly letting him down as best as you can without having to anger him or potentially your and his career.
"Um, I'm so sorry, Mr. Blake, but I have to go and do my work." You tried to walk to his side and escape, only for him to slide in front of you again, the smirk on his face growing wider.
"Hey now, there's no need to be scared. I don't bite, unless you want me to."
He used the fact that he was double your size, trapping you to receiving his flirtatious words and gazes. Truthfully, before he saw you, he was starting to get bored due to the lack of entertainment in the facility. So, when he heard there was a female manager walking around the facility that was his age, he wanted to see what you were about.
And well, at first he was disappointed. You looked...plain. Not bad looking, in fact, you were pretty, but very much like a plain Jane. Maybe it was because he was used to seeing the most beautiful of actors and models that he is a bit insentivized with appearances, and that was how he felt.
But, the moment you did catch his attention was when he heard Luna start to talk about you. The Spanish player would always mention you in passing conversations about football and just general topics, he seemed to genuinely love to talk about you and about how you were supposedly smart and unique in your own ways.
At first, he was annoyed at this. He just could not shut up about you, can't he? But, he wanted to look at this from another perspective. So, here he was now, trying his best to find out what was so interesting about you in the best way he knew possible. He was bored too, so why not?
"Um please, I really have to go."
"Ah-ah, not yet, sweetheart. Why not stay here for a bit? I can-"
But to his surprise, you were not taking 'no's seriously, only your job was serious in your mind and at that current moment, you really needed to continue it. So, you crouched and ran out of his hold before scurrying away like a skittish animal.
"I'm so sorry, sir! But I really needed to go. Bye."
You kept the politeness before vanishing through the many halls of the facility, leaving him starstrucked. In all his life, there had been many instances of him being rejected. Sure, most of the time the girls were more than willing to flirt with him, but that does not mean there have been a few share who immediately turned him down.
So why was this different?
It was probably the way your eyes looked. Instead of the usual flushed expression followed by an annoyed tone, instead he was met with only a distracted haze in your eyes. Like, your mind did not even set in the fact that he was flirting with you, that you were too focused in whatever you were about to do.
Like you were close to clueless about his intentions. Or maybe, you just did not care at all, finding your job much more fulfilling and important to pay attention to.
And this ignited something in him. He always did love a bit of a challenge in everything, especially women. He'll take on the challenge of making you start to pay attention to him, to the point that you will be distracted by him.
'Hm, let's see how much you interest me even more as time passes, Miss Y/n.'
PABLO CAVAZOS
"You mean, I don't look good in green?"
The Argentinian frowned at the advice, not in a malicious way that he disregarded your opinion, but in a disappointed way that one of his main favourite colors to wear clashed with his bright hair.
"That doesn't mean you can't wear it anymore though. I think a muted green would look really good, just not neon green."
You added with a smile. Out of all the players in World 5, you became the closest with Cavazos a lot (with a few exceptions), and this was due to how in some strange way, you two had a lot in common. From your likes in food and entertainment to the love of cute things and even some of your habits.
And that all started with this certain conversation when the player walked out of his room wearing a neon green sweater, and you being you, started to talk about possible combinations of color that may fit him as well as color theory for some reason.
"But, I think monochrome fits you the best. So your eyes and hair can pop even more!"
Now, Pablo was a man who knew exactly what he wanted, and he did not care for what other people usually told him. Due to his eccentric looks, he was always the point of attention, someone people would pay attention to immediately in a large room whether it was for good or not.
He has been told most of his life how to present himself. What are the best ways to suit his features with something. To wear something that would get the attention off of his hair and eyes and instead have it mix in with the rest of his outfit, or to even cut his hair so he won't be as distracting. But, one moment, it's as if he had some sort of epiphany.
He realized that those people, were not looking out for him as he thought they initially. Instead, they wanted him to stop shining because of who he really is. They wanted to take his star quality and shine away, the things that made him unique out of everyone in the world.
So he stopped listening to what everyone said, and instead, he tried to try and stand out more, to take more space in the eyes of the people, strangers or not. To reject any type of rejection towards his true self.
Atleast, that's what he should do with you. To tell you to stop giving him opinions that just take away to who he truly is. But, instead he listens intently, nodding and even sparing a smile at some lighthearted jokes you'd mix in.
Why? He doesn't know why, either. Maybe it was the tone of your voice. One filled with happiness and genuineness, not that of condescension. You just gave genuine advice, not force them unto him, the shine in your eyes telling him there was no malice or want to suppress him, but instead a longing to find him succeed in even something so small like clothing choices.
So, he listens to you ramble about color theory and takes into mind what you were telling him, even at the expense of changing his fashion choices.
And you continued your mindless chatter, until you realized that you did not have any position to tell a man of his fame and standing what to do, when everything he currently did seemed to work.
On reflex, you tried covering your mouth, gasping a bit at the realization.
"I'm so sorry for babbling too much! I-"
But, he only cut you off. Taking your wrist in his hand, his face remaining emotionless and cool as he just shook his head.
"No, no. I like all your advice. Please continue."
DADA SILVA
"How am I even going to carry all of these?"
You mumbled as you looked at the large boxes that were in the storage room, all stacked upon each other. You can already feel the strain on your back and bones at the prospect of carrying the heavy boxes and transferring them to another room.
The current storage room was deemed a bit big to just be a storage room, so to make use of the space, everything in it will be transferred in a different and smaller room. Unfortunately for you, you were the only one currently available to make the move.
Not complaining anymore, you used your brain to make the move a bit easier. Using carts and other contraptions to move the heavy boxes. But of course, even with this, moving dozens of heavy boxes was not an easy feat for one woman.
"Ugh, just a few more...and then maybe, I can get some rest."
But to your surprise, the box in your hand that was a point of struggle for you was taken out of your hands gently. Blinking at the sudden predicament, you looked up to find a familiar figure standing tall, his arms carrying the boxes with ease as if they did not have any significant weight to them.
"Pardon for the sudden intrusion, but I can't just let a lady continue struggling."
"Oh, Sir Silva, you didn't have to-"
"It's nothing. It's only a few boxes."
He shrugged and continued the walk, you led the way, hand still pushing the rest of the boxes on the cart now that your hands were free. If you were not gonna lie, you definitely felt somewhat nervous.
Why would you not be? You let someone like THE Dada Silva help you out in something so miniscule. Sure, he offered, but he was legit being paid millions by the facility and the JFU, and you were letting him do peasant work? Oh, how the heads will kill you if they find out the stunt you pulled.
Nevertheless, you gave a bright smile filled with gratitude.
"Thank you so much for the help, Mr. Silva...I am REALLY sorry for inconveniencing you."
The man could not help the soft smile that pulled on his face. The look in your eyes, even the fidgety look in your figure, definitely showed how genuine you were about the gratitude and apology. Not that he wanted one. It was just common sense for a man to help a lady that he could see was in need.
But, it did feel a little lighter and more fun when you gave him the sweetest thank you and smile he was ever given by anyone.
You had been the talk between the rest of his fellow players. From Luna's neverending praise for your intelligence and creativity, to Cavazos' rain of appreciation and mentions of your open and kind personality, and even Blake's nonstop plans of wanting to impress you himself, and supposedly redeem himself in your eyes, whatever that meant.
So, naturally, he got curious, too. All the words they threw about you were all a jumbled mess, different perspectives of different people towards one individual. And so, due to this, he cannot really make out who you really were or what type of person you were.
So, he went to investigate himself, not wanting to rely on hearsay. He approached you, finding it a good moment to see you struggling with the boxes. It can be less awkward when he has another reason to talk with you other than his own curiousity!
And, he can safely say he can definitely see what each of them talked about. Your words carried hidden intelligence to them, your words being softly spoken yet had a sharpness to them that only someone with a deep understanding of the topic can ever hold.
He can also see that you were sweet to the core. Just your aura alone exuded that same kindness your voice did, making him ease to you. When was the last time he had a very innocent interaction with someone, especially a woman, like this again?
Now, it was not that he villainized everybody around him. No, he knew some people who were genuinely good. But most of them were only good to him due to some sort of agenda that hid deep in their hearts. Whether it is a professional relation filled with nothing but serious countenance and formal conversations, or a more give and take relationship, one that was a bit more intimate, but not something genuine. Instead, it was all about what to receive off of pretending to be in a more personal relationship, either supposed friendship or romantic relations.
But with this, it feels so much more freeing. So much more chill and flowy, like the careless waves of the ocean. One that was there just because of mutual respect towards each other as human beings who have complex emotions and feelings.
"Thank you for the small conversation, Mr. Silva! It definitely cured my boredom in moving these boxes."
"Like I said, it's nothing, Ms. Y/n. I had fun too."
For now, there was nothing much to it. Just two people having fun talking to the other, finding the difference and similarities between the other entertaining enough for the genuine laughter.
But, who's to say this moment filled with a barrage of kaleidoscope colors is a one-off thing that can never repeat in this supposed monotonous facility?
ADDITIONAL TIME!
Y/n: *Accidentally rizzing the four World 5 members.*
Meanwhile, Y/n with Loki: You're really cute. I can adopt you too like the other 300 under boys I already adopted-
Loki: ...pardon?
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I hate school so much, but your girl has to keep her honour student shebang cause why not?
Blue Lock is WRITTEN by Kaneshiro Muneyuki and ILLUSTRATED by Nomura Yusuke. All credits to the both of them.
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hotchsofficialwifey · 1 year ago
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okay hear me out... mike schmidt with goth!fem!reader (be warned: i'm not goth so this might not be very accurate lol)
he met you while he was working at the mall, eyed you from across hot topic. despite your intimidating black clothes, chains, and eye makeup, you had one of the sweetest smiles he'd ever seen, instantly drawing him to you. you said good morning to the worker with one of those perfect smiles and he immediately felt butterflies in his stomach.
he started hanging out at the hot topic more frequently. he began to pick up on your schedule, too. you'd usually come on Saturday's between 12-3pm, circle through the food court and your favorite stores (one time he even caught you at Victoria's Secret, but didn't go in, for obvious reasons). he felt a little creepy, but it wasn't like he was stalking you, just keeping you safe (this was his bullshit excuse). some part of you was simply magnetic, pulling him in like a siren, wrapping him around your finger so tightly he never wanted to be let go.
after a few weeks or so of this same routine, he got fired for beating up a man in broad daylight, and had to get a shitty job at Fazbear's Pizzeria. the only part of that job he missed was you, but his yearning would soon come to an end. he went on various apps, websites, whatever he could to find a babysitter for abby while he was at work, when he found your profile on one of the apps. you were around his age, lived in the same town, and were looking for a job as a babysitter. perfect! he got in contact with you shortly after, and you were fast to reply. you set up a day, time and location, and the next night you were there, knocking on his door.
it was as if the closer he got to you, the prettier you were. pink lips overlined with black liner, flared black jeans paired with a Siouxsie and The Banshees t-shirt, eyeliner so sharp it could probably poke him and black converse covered in doodles. you were more casual than usual, obviously, but god, you were beautiful. you hit him with one of your dazzling smiles, introduced yourself to him and abby (abby instantly liked you), and he went off to work, the scent of your sandalwood perfume on his mind.
you got closer over the months you babysat abby. he came home early in the morning, but you always made breakfast (not only were you beautiful, but amazingly sweet). he didn't pay you as consistently as you originally hoped he would, but you were begin to grow a crush on him, so you didn't really mind. it got to the point where you two even exchanged numbers, using work as an excuse, but you mostly talked and sent memes to each other. but what he admired most about you is how good you were with abby. you guys drew together, watched cartoons together, laughed together, you even did tarot readings for her. abby would fill him in on every little detail of your night together, start to finish. she adored you, and you adored her, which only made him fall harder for you.
the love confession was unexpected, but really sweet. he had invited you over for dinner before he went to work, which he often did, but after you put abby to bed and sat down on the couch with him...
"thanks for everything you do for us." he blurted suddenly. your face suddenly felt very warm, and you bashfully replied.
"it's no big deal, really. i like spending time with abby..." fuck it, you thought. "and with you." you stared at each other for a moment, tension in the air, before he kissed you. slowly, softly, easing you into it. it got heated quickly, and one thing left to another, and he was forty minutes late for work (but it was so worth it).
a/n: okay, this wasn't as focused on the goth part as I wanted it to be, but wtvr. i'll be doing headcannons for goth!reader later!! for now, here's some backstory lol
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yoonguurt · 1 year ago
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Summary: Christmas this, Christmas that. The “Most wonderful time of the year” is not how Y/N would describe it. Sure, it used to be a magical time full of happiness and love, but she let that belief go years ago. Christmas is all about how much money you spend on someone and making yourself look good to outsiders. Snow is wet and everything is cold during this time of year, makes everything gross. Her best friend is tired of having The Grinch as a roommate, especially when he remembers what it was like when she loved Christmas. This year, he finally decides that it’s time to bring the magic back into her life. Maybe that magic will bring a little love with it.
Pairing: Bang Chan x fem!reader
Word Count:9,603
Genre/themes/au: fluff, smut, a tiny bit of angst; friends to lovers, roommates to lovers; it's a Christmas fic, yall.
Warnings: parental abandonment, masturbation(f), unprotected sex(NO! BAD!), fingering, oral (f rec), daddy kink (it just kind of happened ok), allusion to a hand kink but I didn't really act on it. I think that's it, but let me know if i missed something. My work is 18+ minors are not tolerated here. Be gone, child.
Walking through the front door, the sound of Christmas music and the blinking of festive lights hits your senses immediately. ‘God dammit, Chris. It's literally the 1st.’ You love having your best friend as a roommate, you really do, but his holiday spirit is not something you enjoy at this moment. 
When he goes all out for New Year's? All good. Valentine's Day? Fuck yeah, let's it chocolate. Halloween? Yes bitch, let's get spooky. But Christmas? It's a no from you. That's where you draw the line. 
His voice floats through your ears as he sings along to whatever annoying song is on. ‘At least it's not All I Want For Christmas is You.’ The beautiful tone of his soft singing almost brings you out of your grumpy mood. Almost. You love his voice, it does things to you. It makes you happy and relaxed. It also turns you on, but he doesn't need to know that. If it weren't for the fact that he's so into this damn holiday, everything would be perfect. 
“You're letting the heat out. And stop looking so mad, you knew this was coming.” His words draw you from your thoughts and you squint your eyes at him in a glare. By the bright smile on his face, he obviously doesn't care about your death stare. You toss your backpack aside, kicking your shoes off with a sigh. It’s been a long day of classes and assignments and you really just want to sit on the couch and watch true crime.
Chris has a pep in his step as he walks to the couch, throwing himself down on the cushions and opening his arms wide. He knows what you want, of course he knows. He tilts his head toward the spot beside him, a soft smile replacing the beaming one he had when you walked in. Your feet shuffle across the carpet as you make your way to him, promptly plopping down next to him and letting him wrap his arms around you.
Chris is your person. He may not have been in your life from the start, but the 2 years he has been has solidified his place for years to come. He's your best friend, sometimes you think he may even be your soulmate, but you don't have the courage to tell him just how deep in you are for him.
You met Chris in freshman year of college, having shared the first class of the semester together. You had taken the seat next to you, immediately giving you the beautiful smile he seems to almost always have. Now, you are in no way a shy person, not even close, but being the focus of his wide smile never fails to bring a blush to your cheeks. It's been like that since day one, you're just better at hiding it now. 
One class turned into three that semester and the two of you clicked immediately. He's a bit more outgoing than you are, but not by a whole lot. He just has an aura of comfort and it reeled you in and you haven't been able to get rid of him sense, not that you want to, anyway. You're down bad. 
At the beginning of sophomore year, the two of you opted for getting an apartment together rather than staying in the dorms. It just made more sense that way. You got to live off campus with your best friend, and you had someone to split the rent with. 
The sound of a movie beginning to play on the tv jolted you from your thoughts. Eyes flicking up to the screen, a groan immediately left your throat without much thought. A hand rubbing up and down your back reminded you of the comforting presence beside you. “A Christmas movie? Really, Chris?” You can feel his mood shift and you’re filled with a small amount of guilt. You know he loves Christmas, he loves holidays in general, but Christmas always puts him in a particular cheery mood. But he also knows how much you detest the holiday. But then again, he has always been willing to do things he hates just because it’s something you want to do. 
The weight of his arm disappears from your body and your head snaps up to face him. ‘Great. I’ve finally pushed him into anger.’ You know that he isn’t angry with you, but the little voice in your head can’t help but override your rationality. The two of you sit in silence for a while, both of you focusing on the images flickering across the tv screen. You’re not as much focusing on the movie as just having a place for your eyes to land. You can tell that Chris is in thought, he’s unusually quiet. There is a tension in the air, thick with guilt and worry. 
By the time the movie is, what you assume, half way through, Chris reaches forward to press the pause button on the remote. The scene stops in the middle of a conversation and the looks on the characters’ faces brings a small snort from your nose. It’s always been a game between the two of you. Someone pauses a movie or show randomly, trying to find the best funny face someone on screen is making. You turn to the man beside you, ready to talk about the game, only to see how serious his face is. 
“I’m not going to ask why you hate Christmas so much, I already know that.” The mention of the reason for your Grinch-like attitude makes you wince, though you try to hide it. That obviously doesn’t work because a warm hand finds its way back around your shoulders, giving a squeeze of reassurance. “But I am going to ask that you do me a favor.” Your heart races at his words. You give him a nod, letting him know that you’re listening. “Give me until Christmas Eve to change your opinion.”
That is not what you were expecting. You thought he’d ask you to keep your holly jolly hating thoughts to yourself. You had no idea how he even thought he could change your mind. Hating Christmas had been a part of you since before you met Chris. It wasn’t your whole personality, that would be awful, but it was well known amongst your friends that you and Christmas didn’t get along. Chris was one of the only people in your friend group that knew the exact reason. You love your friends and as much as you trust them, you don’t want to deal with the looks. You had worried about that when you told Chris, but he hadn’t looked at you like other people would have. Of course he hadn’t. He was Chris. He was perfect.
“What do you mean?” You mentally rolled your eyes at yourself, it felt like a dumb question. Your best friend’s gaze held no anger, and didn't make you feel stupid for asking. He just gave you a soft smile, his hand coming to push your hair behind your ear. “Give me 23 days to make Christmas a happy time for you again. Three weeks. We’ll do two small things a week, and one big thing on the weekend. Today is Friday, so the first big activity can be tomorrow. There are two more weekends between now and Christmas Eve. The last big thing will be on Christmas Eve. If your thoughts on the holiday aren’t changed by midnight on Christmas Day, I’ll tone down the holiday cheer next year. Deal?”
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“Alright.” You can see that he senses the hesitancy in your voice, but he doesn't say anything. Just reaches his hand out towards you, waiting for you to take it in a handshake. ‘This is certainly going to be interesting.’ You have no idea what he could possibly have planned, but you're curious.
You slept in the next morning, which felt amazing. You honestly expected Chris to wake you up early for his big adventure, but you were damn glad he didn't. Taking your time in getting up, you finally crawl out of bed to brush your teeth before emerging from your room. Your first stop would be the kitchen, you need coffee. As soon as you hit the end of the hallway, a mug sat on the counter, still steaming. You couldn't help the smile that graced your lips at the sight. 
Chris had made a habit of setting your coffee out for you before he went to the gym. It was a small thing, but it always made your heart skip. Now that he wasn't home, you could let yourself stew in your feelings. You aren't sure when your feelings for him had changed, you just knew that they had.
Maybe it was last month when he had stayed up all night taking care of you when you had the flu. Maybe it was last year when your boyfriend had broken up with you and he had made a blanket fort in the living room and watched Disney movies with you. Perhaps it was a month after starting school and you had to miss a week of class, only to come back to a set of notes he had taken for you. You couldn't be certain.
You bumble around the apartment, looking for things to do. You had to admit, even though you hate Christmas and anything to do with it, you were excited to see what Chris had planned. You doubted he could actually change your mind, but it was better to not tell him that.
Thinking back to your life before Chris, your thoughts landed on the reason you hate this goddamn holiday. Your father. Waking up on Christmas morning only to find him nowhere in sight and your mother in shambles. You were sixteen. He had left a note explaining that he had found a new life, one that didn't include you or your mother. Prick. That had solidified your hatred. You struggled to pick up the pieces of your mother’s broken heart, and after a while you had succeeded, but there was still a void.
She had eventually remarried once you had gone off to school, and while she was happy with the way her life turned out, you were still angry. Still hurt. Still hated Christmas. You love your stepfather dearly, but the memory of that shitty Christmas morning still reigns supreme. 
The jingling of keys brought you out of your angry thoughts. The door opened and there was your best friend, the object of your unknown affections. He was still sweaty from his intense workout. ‘Fuck. He really is going to give me a heart attack one of these days.’ Your stomach was doing flips. He looked so good. Biting your lip, you admire him for a moment longer before calling out to him.
“Thanks for the coffee.” He turns to you, eyes wide, obviously startled. You suppress a giggle, knowing it would only make him pout at your amusement. “No need for thanks, pretty girl.” There goes your stomach again, your heart joining its waltz of emotion. Pet names aren't a new thing for him, it's something he's done for months now, but it still affects like it had the very first time. 
“So, what's the big activity you have planned?” You watch as he kicks off his shoes, making sure to place them neatly on the shoe rack you keep next to the door. He tsks at you as he makes his way to stand in front of you. “Nope. Not a chance. It's a surprise.” An immediate pout comes across your face, causing a loud laugh from the man in front of you. Your pout only deepens. Before you realize what is happening, Chris reaches forward, squishing your cheeks in his hand and leaning closer. “No pouting. I'm gonna shower and we can go.” He lets go of your face and leans back, smirking a bit as he turns and walks down the hall. “Make sure to wear something warm!” His loud voice rings out through the apartment, and you sigh, getting up to go get dressed.
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This is not what you expected. To be fair, you don't really know what you expected, but an ice skating rink wasn't it. Chris must be able to see the confusion on your face, because he laughs and reaches for your hand. “Ice skating is an important part of the holiday season.” This is news to you. 
His hand doesn't leave yours as he pulls you towards the small building that houses the skate rentals. After a moment of waiting in line, you step up to the counter, pulling your wallet out to pay. “The hell do you think you're doing?” Chris has a serious face as he looks at you with furrowed brows. “Paying?” You didn't mean for your words to come out as a question. He shakes his head adamantly, gently pushing your arm back. ‘Should have known. Always has to pay.’ Every time he does this, your mind briefly wonders if you're on a date, but you always shake that thought away. 
Stepping onto the ice is always a little scary. It's not like you've never gone ice skating, but you always feel a bit rusty after not going for a while. You watch as Chris glides around the rink once before making his way back to you. He's so graceful as he skates. It's like there's nothing he can't do. His arms reach out towards you as he comes closer, beckoning you to start moving in his direction. 
Both of his hands clasp yours, pulling you into his chest. Despite the temperature, he's warm. He's always so damn warm. You pull your head back to look up at him, his eyes already focused on you. Getting lost in his eyes is so easy. It's like second nature. Your gazes stay locked for what feels like forever before you break the contact first, both visually and physically. 
As you shuffle backwards on your skates, you notice Chris drop his arms to his side. You're looking at your feet so you don't notice the disappointment that crosses his face. You turn, slowly skating off, trying to get the hang of it again. 
Chris joins you only a second later, giving you a slight nudge. “Wanna race?” He's wearing his signature smile, an eyebrow cocked. This is a bad idea. You know this is a bad idea. That doesn't stop you at all. “You're on!” You're moving forward before you finish the sentence.
“Are you ok?” Uninjured, yes. Mortified, also yes. Chris helps you off of the ice as you nod. You got too confident. He had been closing in on you almost immediately. Then, a child moved into your path. Down on your ass you went. “Need to step off the ice for a minute?” You give him an affirmative, you just need a little bit of a breather. 
The two of you step off the ice, not even bothering to take your skates off, you don't plan to be off the ice long. Chris walks you to a bench, making sure you're sat and comfortable before he walks away. He doesn't speak before he leaves, leaving you confused. You watch his back as the distance between you greatens, watching him stop and a tiny stand at the edge of the area.
He comes back with two cups in his hands, handing one to you. “Hot chocolate?” He nods, giving you a big smile, and the butterflies fly away again. “Figured it'd help warm you up, since, y’know, you ate shit and now your ass is cold.” His tone is teasing and a smirk plays on his lips. You give him a playful shove, telling him to shut up and his laughter fills the air. “Gonna need a massage?” His eyebrows wiggle and you almost spit the drink out. Once you finish your drink, he grabs your hand again, leading you back to the ice. The next two hours are filled with laughter and teasing as you skate hand in hand. 
You dream of ice skating with Chris. The holiday spirit creeps at the edge of your soul.
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It's four days later that you come home to notice things are different. The tree is gone. You have a brief moment of giddiness, immediately feeling bad. You told yourself that you're going to try. It isn't fair to Chris if he goes through all of this trouble for you to refuse to try.
“Chris? Are you home?” You hear shuffling coming from the back half of the apartment. The Adonis of a man comes from his room, gray sweatpants hanging low on his hips, pulling a black muscle shirt over his head. You can see the ridges that adore his chest and stomach. It makes your mouth dry and your panties wet.
“Great, you're home. It's time for the first small activity.” You look around, trying to figure out what he has planned. It takes a bit, but you finally notice the Christmas tree messing put on top, not in, it's box. Your eyes flicking to your best friend, raising an eyebrow in question. 
“Yepp. First up, we put the tree up and decorate it together.” You suppress a sigh. This used to be one of your favorite things to do for Christmas, second only to baking cookies. You give him a small smile and a nod and the way his face lights up makes every grievance you have about doing this fly out of the window. 
Chris sets the tree up while you sort the decorations and untangle the lights. He had tangled them back up so you could get the “full experience.” Admittedly, that made you the tiniest bit happy. Just that he had thought of everything, even something as small as untangling lights. After he has the tree in its place, he steps away and grabs his phone, turning it to the radio station for the college. You give him a side eye and he laughs. “I may be off today, but I still support my team.”  The radio station is Chris’ baby. He’s always loved music, he says it has helped him through his darkest times. 
Of course Jisung is playing Christmas music right now, you suspect Chris had something to do with that since it isn’t a normal occurrence this early in the month. Footsteps coming your way clue you in that he has decided to make his way over to where you are. His arms come around you from behind, giving you a soft squeeze. He breathes a soft laugh into your ear as he watches you fight the strand of lights. “Here, let me help.” He rests his chin on your shoulder, his nimble fingers making quick work of the knots. You can’t help but focus on the way his hands move, god you want them inside of you.
The next hour or so is spent making sure every ornament is in the perfect place, not too close together, but not too far apart. The music, which has since switched from Christmas tunes, plays softly in the background. Every now and then, Jisung’s voice cuts through the speaker, usually to make some sort of joke or answer a question that was sent in. You’re distracted with making sure the tree is perfect that you don’t notice the way your roommate stands off to the side, watching you intently, a smile on his face and his eyes twinkling.
The rest of your week drags on. Your thoughts are muddled and all over the place. You’ve been happier than you normally are this time of year, and you know Chris’ plan is working. You can’t tell if it’s because of doing the activities you haven’t done in years, or if it’s because you're doing them with him. You think it may be the latter, though. Friday finally rolls around and after classes and your shift at the campus bookstore, you’re absolutely beat. You trudge through your front door, set on getting a shower and going to bed. 
Chris should still be at the radio station, he tends to work later on Fridays. It occurs to you that some self care may be in order, you could definitely use a good orgasm to make you feel better. With your mind made up, you grab your pajamas and your waterproof vibrator, quickly making your way to the bathroom. 
The steam from the hot water fills the room and it instantly makes you relax just a little. Your shoulders are loosening up more every second you spend undressing. The stream of water hits your skin and an involuntary sigh escapes your lips. You stand under the falling water for a few moments, letting the warmth seep into your skin. Almost absent mindedly, you reach for your vibrator, clicking it to the lowest setting.You run your free hand down your body, stopping at your breast to fondle and pinch your nipple. You let a soft gasp and you bring the toy to your clit, just barely grazing it, teasing yourself. 
The more tension that escapes you, the more you indulge yourself. You replace your vibrator with the shower head, the pressure hitting just the right spot. You slide the toy through your folds, down to your entrance, sliding it into your pussy slowly. The sound you make is louder this time, and you aren’t worried about the noise. It’s just you in the apartment and you need this. You fuck yourself faster, making sure to keep the pressure on your clit as you change the angle of your hand so the tip of the vibrator hits your sweet spot. 
Your orgasm is approaching faster than you thought it would, but you’re absolutely fine with it. Clicking the vibration setting up one notch, you throw your head back against the tile of the shower wall. You release a drawn out moan, your hips bucking slightly into the toy, chasing your high. Right as the dam is about to break, you click the setting button to the highest setting. You crash head first into your orgasm. Whimpers and whines fall from your mouth as you ride out your high, biting your lip to keep yourself from moaning out your best friend’s name.
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The next day comes earlier than you thought it would, mostly because you’re woken up to a loud voice. “Good morning, pretty girl! Rise and shine.” ‘Choke, you happy bastard.’ You feel bad for your immediate thought, but as you roll over and take a look at your clock, you feel slightly less bad. “Christopher. It is 8am. What the actual fuck?” The only response you get is a smile and the feeling of blankets being ripped off of you. You fix your gaze on him, giving him the harshest death glare you can manage at this time of day, which doesn’t appear to bother him a bit. “Up, woman. We have things to do. If I don’t hear the sink running in 5 minutes, I’m dragging you out of bed myself.” ‘This is going to be a long fucking day.’ 
Your hands are on the handle of the shopping cart while Chris holds on to the basket. He directs the cart himself, you’re essentially just there for appearances, you guess. He stopped to get you a coffee, a peace offering, which you had accepted. But that doesn’t mean your mood has drastically improved. He looks great, he always does, but today he’s glowing more than usual. ‘Stupid, beautiful, perfect man. How are you this chipper this early? You barely sleep.’ 
You watch as he grabs drinks and snacks, still having no idea what is going on. He had refused to tell you anything on the drive to the supermarket, didn’t want to”ruin the holiday spirit surprise”, whatever that means. Once he deems there are enough items in the cart, he directs the two of you to the checkout counter. You don’t even bother pulling out your wallet, knowing it wouldn’t do any good. Chris pays, oblivious to the way the cashier is making googly eyes at him. 
After loading everything into the car, he opens the door for you, giving you a peck on the forehead. That causes you to duck your head to hide the blush that forms across your cheeks. You watch as he jogs around to the trunk, opening it and digging around for a second before he closes it and makes his way to the driver’s door. He turns to you as he’s buckling his belt, his voice soft. “Take yourself a nap, pretty. We have a bit of a drive ahead of us.” You give him a look, one which he ignores. ‘Where the hell is this crazy man taking me?’ You doze off before you can even think of a possible answer.
“Y/n. Wake up. We’re here.” The gentle swaying of your body coaxes you awake, your eyes automatically squinting to avoid the sun. Chris is already out of the car, already holding your door open. He takes your hand and helps you out of the car, pausing to let you stretch. He silently takes your hand, tugging gently, urging you to follow him. Your nose meets his back as he stops suddenly. You let out a tiny huff, rubbing your nose while he apologizes. “I’m sorry! I just forgot something!” He takes your hands away from your face to inspect you, making sure your nose isn’t bleeding, and presses a soft kiss to the tip. “Can you close your eyes for me? Please?” You do as he says without hesitation. “Good girl.” You shiver.
When you finally come to a stop, you guess that you must be inside somewhere. You can’t feel the sun on your skin, and the temperature has dropped slightly. You hear him shuffling around and as much as you want to see what’s going on, you keep your eyes closed. When he finally comes back to you, he grabs both of your hands and pulls you a little further forward. He drops your hands, and you feel him behind you, wrapping you up in his warmth. “Open.” You slowly lift your eyelids, both confused and in awe by what you see.
You’re in a barn, a blanket thrown across the ground. Pillows lay on the blanket, surrounded by the snacks and drinks you had gotten at the store. Everything is facing a wall, where a large projector screen hangs, the title screen for A Christmas Story paused on the screen. You hate cheesy Christmas movies, even when you liked Christmas. A Christmas Story is different, you could watch it all year round. Tears prick the corner of your eyes. No one has ever gone through such great lengths for you. “Chris…” Your voice breaks off and your best friend pulls you back into his chest and sets his chin on your shoulder. “Come on, let’s lay down. I brought an extra blanket to cover up with. I know how easily you get cold. There’s also more pillows in case the ground gets too hard.” You quickly spin around in his arms, latching your hands around his shoulders in a tight hug. “Thank you.” You feel him place a soft kiss on your hair. 
Feeling happy and content, you press play.
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“What has you in such a good mood?” You direct your attention to Hyunjin. He’s looking at you like you’re some sort of impostor. “What do you mean? I’m just in a good mood.” He scrunches his face like he’s just smelled something awful. “Y/n, it’s December. Today marks exactly two weeks until Christmas. In the two years I have known you, you have never just been in a good mood for no reason this close to Christmas.” 
He’s right. You know that he’s right. You aren’t usually in an outright bad mood, but you certainly aren’t in a good mood for no reason. “Maybe I’m just having a good day.’ Your words come out in a mumble, you know they don’t sound convincing. “This wouldn’t have anything to do with a certain Aussie, would it?” You knew you shouldn’t have told Hyunjin about your feelings for Chris. In your defense, you didn’t tell him. He just seemed to read your mind and then you couldn’t deny it.
“Shut up.” You’re grumbling now, not liking that you’ve been so easily read. You can see the smug grin on Hyunjin’s face. He knows he’s hit the nail on the head and you just want to smack him. “We made a deal. He’s trying to get me over the Christmas hate. I’m not saying it’s working,” It is. “I’ve just been having alot of fun. You watch your friend’s eyes widen before the cocky smile is back on his face. “You guys are so gonna fuck.” That one finally earns him the smack.
 It’s Thursday by the time you realize you haven’t had your small adventure this week, and you're surprised how sad you are about it. You’ve been pouting for two days because there has been no holiday fun. That thought alone makes you want to vomit. You definitely did not expect this. You? Wanting to do Christmasy stuff? Yuck. 
The bookstore is quiet, which isn’t unusual, but it gives your thoughts too much power. Is it time to let go? You assume it is, but you aren’t sure if you’re fully ready. It sounds dumb, but if you stay angry, you focus on that instead of the hurt. It’s starting to fade, though. Finally. You’ve thought for years that if you just pretended that Christmas didn’t exist, you’d move on. But, you guess you were going about it the wrong way. Maybe you do need to embrace the season. 
The bell above the door rings, signaling that someone has entered the store. You face the door, seeing your best friend walking in, stomping the snow off of his shoes. You give him a wave, a bright smile on your face, getting larger the closer he gets to you. “You don’t have much longer, right?” You shake your head, tilting it slightly to the side. He reads you like a book. “It’s time for our second mini adventure.” Your heart feels lighter.
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There’s flour everywhere. It’s in your hair, it’s in his hair, it’s on the ceiling. The kitchen is a mess.
As soon as you had gotten home, Chris led you to the kitchen, where an array of cookie cutters were laid out on the counter. You didn’t even try to hide your smile. “Welcome to Bang’s Bakery.” You let out a snort at his customer service voice, his giggle filling the air around you. “We got snowmen, gingerbread men, Santa. You name it, we got it.” You immediately drift toward the metal shaped like a snowman, while Chris grabs the Santa cutter. 
The first batch of cookies turned out…not the greatest. You had gotten lost in a dance party, letting them stay in the oven for too long. The second batch was better, but had almost zero flavor. The third batch is where things took a turn. 
You had spilled the flour while trying to pour it into a measuring cup, a cloud coming from the plop it made on the counter. Chris let out a howl of laughter as he noticed your face covered in the remnants of the cloud. This just wouldn’t stand. No way. You hadn’t even taken a millisecond to think before reaching into the bag. A puff of flour hit Chris directly in the face. That shut him up. Briefly. He recovered quickly, a sly smile coming to his face. ‘Oh god, what have I done?’ 
He was on you before you knew it, fighting you for the bag of flour. There was no way you were going down without a full fight. You had snatched your arms back, turning to make a run for it. The flour stuck again. There was a white patch on the floor, which had somehow gotten mixed with some form of liquid. Your feet slid out from under you, causing you to hit the floor. The bag flew into the air, turned upside down and covered both you and Chris. 
He slid to the floor beside you, both of you in hysterics. Your sides were hurting from laughing so hard. “Y’ok?” His question came out in between him trying to catch his breath. You couldn’t even answer, too lost in the joy you’re feeling. He goes silent all of a sudden, his hands coming to cup your face to get your attention. You stare at each other, neither of you speaking. His eyes dart between yours and your lips. Just as you both lean in, his phone rings, You jump apart as he gets up to answer. “Bin needs me at the station. I’m gonna shower and head out.” You give him a stiff nod and he turns to walk down the hallway.
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The weekend brings rain. Rain brings this weekend’s activity inside. Chris won’t tell you what he had originally planned, all he told you was that he had to make due with what he had. That explained absolutely nothing. 
A Christmas movie marathon. That was the backup plan. There was a slight disagreement on whether or not Die Hard is a Christmas movie, ‘it is’, but Chris disagrees. ‘He’s wrong.’ After that minor setback, the marathon is in full swing. The two of you are cuddled up under a blanket and you each have a mug of hot chocolate while Home Alone plays on the screen. Neither of you have brought up what happened after the flour fight, you aren’t even sure how you approach the subject. 
You somehow move from cuddling side by side to you laying on his chest. You aren’t complaining, it feels right. It feels like this is where you are supposed to be. Your eyes start to get heavy when Chris starts to play with your hair. Your nose is filled with his cologne and your heart is full of love.
Time seems to both speed up and slow down the closer you get to Christmas. Four days. That’s all you have left. It feels good to not be dreading the day. You feel more light and carefree than you have in years. Chris had texted you earlier today, giving you strict instructions.
Cutie with a booty: lay a sheet down on the living room floor and make sure to wear comfy clothes that aren’t super important to you. No, I won’t tell you what we’re doing. Don't even ask.
So here you were, sitting on the floor in an old shirt from highschool and some ripped sweats you’ve been meaning to throw away, waiting for Chris to get home. Just as you’re about to call and ask where he is, you hear a key enter the lock. Chris comes in with shopping bags full of stuff, though you can’t tell what it is. “I hope you have your crafty cap on!” You look at him like he just spoke gibberish.”My fucking what?” The man snorts so hard that he almost drops the bags. 
He sets all of the bags down on the sheet, plopping himself down afterwards. He reaches over, grabbing the bags and dumping the contents onto the sheet. Glue stick, cotton balls, glitter. All kinds of arts and crafts supplies, along with two plain red stockings. “We’re decorating stockings for each other. And no, you can not draw a penis on my stocking.” ‘Damn, He got me.’ You’re immediately hit with what you want to put on his stocking, confident that he’ll love it. 
The two of you work in silence, both concentrated on your art. Chris is using a lot of glitter and  a lot of black marker and you honestly have no idea what he could be doing. Looking down at your creation, you cringe slightly. You are in no way an artist, but you’re hoping he’ll at least be able to tell what your vision is. You grab your phone, needing a reference picture. Chris looks at you briefly, a disapproving look on his face.  “Calm down, I just need a reference picture.” His look changes to confused, but you just wave him off.
An hour later, both stockings are ready and hiding behind your backs. “I'll go first. This is about you enjoying Christmas, after all.” He reaches behind him, the stocking in his hands when they come back to the front of his body. He hands you the fabric and you observe it. Your name is written across the top in purple glitter, a heart on each side. In the center sits two penguins. They're facing each other, holding each other’s flippers. In between them is a pebble. You want to cry. You do cry.
“Chris. It's perfect.” He scoots toward you, his thumb coming to wipe away your tears. “Aww don't cry.” You let him know that it's a cry of happiness as you pull yourself together. It's your turn now and you turn slightly grabbing your gift. You extend your arms, watching him take in what you've made.
LIke him, you’ve written something across the top, but it isn’t his name. ‘RooBoo’ is written in blue glitter, with pink layering over the top. You’ve used the gold glitter to attempt to draw a kangaroo, though it doesn’t really look like one. Same goes for the koala. In between the two animals, the shape of Australia is drawn and shimmering in green and gold. You bite your lip anxiously, waiting for his reaction. Nothing happens. He just stares. You start to worry that he doesn’t understand what it’s supposed to be, or worse, doesn’t like it. 
All at once, he surges forward. He buries his face in your neck and wraps his arms around your waist. He just stays like that, not moving, not saying anything. You bring your arms around him, rubbing his back. You can feel moisture on your neck and it’s only then that you notice his soft shudders. “Chris?” You try to pull back to get a look at him, but he tightens his grip so you can’t go anywhere. “You have no idea how much that means to me. Thank you so fucking much.” His voice is barely above a whisper, but you hear him anyway. You place a kiss on his forehead and you two stay that way for a while longer.
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Christmas Eve. The last day of your little deal, you’re beyond ready to admit to Chris that he had won during week two, but you want to see what his final surprise is. Knowing him, he’s going all out for this one. He’s out all day, and you’re pacing around waiting for his return. Around 6:30pm, you get a call. It’s short and to the point. “Be ready in an hour, dress cute but warm. I won’t be home until it’s time to pick you up. See you then, pretty girl.” He doesn’t even give you a chance to answer, he just hangs up. How dare he only give you an hour, you have to shower, do your hair, pick an outfit, there’s no way you can do all of that in an hour. 
You manage to do it in 50 minutes, which you are very proud of by the way. Your hair is down, nothing fancy, but you know that Chris likes it like this. Your outfit is simple, a red and striped sweater, jeans and a coat. It may not look like the warmest choice, but you know you’ll be warm enough. There’s a knock on the door, which you find odd. Opening the door slowly, a mess of brown curly hair comes into view. Chris stands at your shared door, a bouquet in his hand. His hair is in its natural state, your absolute favorite look on him. He’s absolutely breathtaking. All you can do is stare. “Are you ready to go, sweetheart?” ‘Oh. Oh, that’s a new one.” Your heart beats in triple time, your stomach is a roller coaster. A nod is literally all you can manage. Your brain is telling your feet to move, your feet are not listening. 
You finally will yourself to move, with much help from Chris since he took you by your hand after putting the flowers in a vase with water. The elevator ride is tense, but not in a bad way. You want to latch yourself to his side and never leave. And like he tends to do, he somehow reads your mind, pulling you into him and placing a kiss on your forehead, this one lingering a little longer than usual. When the doors open, he doesn’t remove his arm from your shoulder as he takes a step. Through the glass door of the lobby, you can see snow lightly falling. It’s beautiful.
A slight breeze hits your face as you step outside. You swivel your head, looking for Chris’ car. “We’re not driving anywhere, pretty.” You look at him, confusion written on your face, causing him to giggle and tip his head toward the park not far from your apartment building. ‘Oh! A walk in the park!’ You smile at the thought of just walking hand in hand around the park in the snow. Though, you’re just happy to spend Christmas Eve with your best friend. A small pang of hurt rushes through you at the thought that he is still only your best friend. Maybe you’ll finally confess at midnight.
Just outside the entrance to the park, there is a horse drawn sleigh. There are people circling around it, and as much as you want to pet the horse, you don’t want to fight your way through a crowd. Chris seems to have a different idea, though. He pulls you directly to the sleigh, letting go of your hand long enough to tell the driver his name and show the man his ID. He takes your hand again, leading you to the side of the sleigh. “After you.” You stand there gawking at him for a moment, his smile never faltering. He helps you into the sleigh, lifting the blanket that’s placed on the seat so the two of you can slide under it. 
The view of the park tonight is unlike anything you have ever seen. There are Christmas lights strung up through the trees. Soft instrumental versions of Christmas songs play through the speakers placed around. There are families playing in the snow, lovers dancing around the lake. The whole park is a magical place. “What’s going on in that pretty head of yours?” His voice draws your attention to him, making eye contact. “Chris, this is amazing. Everything is so beautiful. How did you do this?” His smile widens at your words. “I cheated a little. There was an ad at the radio station. We were supposed to be the first to announce it. I called and booked the first ride before I read the ad.” Your laughter is the loudest sound in the park, but you can’t find it in yourself to care. Of course he used the station. 
He slings his arm around you when your head lands on his shoulder and brings you closer to him. You’re close to sitting in his lap at this point. “Chris.” “Y/n.” You speak at the same time and you both giggle. You playfully argue over who should go first, and Chris finally takes the spotlight. 
“I said that I was spending this month trying to get you to like Christmas again, and I meant that. But that was a minor part of everything I’ve done. I wanted you to know what it’s like to be loved, genuinely loved, on Christmas. I know this time of year is hard for you, and understandably so, but I want you to know that you have someone who is here for you. You have someone who will never leave. You have someone that loves you more than words could ever explain. I love you, Y/n. I just wanted you to feel that love.”
You have no words. You have tears, but no words. You have tears, no words, and your lips on his.
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You feel like you're floating. Are your feet on the ground? You don’t know. You can feel your hand in his, but you can’t feel your feet. And you aren’t bothered by it. Because you can feel his lips on yours. You walk through the doorway of your shared apartment, giving each other sweet kisses. It’s only when you’re fully inside with the door closed that the kisses deepen. Chris cups your face with both of his hands, one sliding up to run through your hair. You’re already in bliss. He pulls back slightly, his breath fanning across your lips. “Tell me how you want this to go, baby. We can stop here and have dinner, or we can go to my room.” You have never uttered a sentence out faster. “Your room, please. I think we’ve waited long enough, yeah?”
Before you realize what’s happening, he swoops you up into his arms, carrying you bridal style to his room, pressing his lips to yours the entire way. He doesn’t even bother closing the bedroom door behind himself, immediately moving to place you gently on his bed. You scoot yourself further up, beckoning him closer. He slowly crawls onto the bed to hover over you, his right handing coming back to your face as he leans down to kiss you again. His left hand makes a home on your hip, rubbing slow, soft circles with his thumb. There is no urgency in your shared kisses, only the need to be close and show each other the love that you feel.
You kiss until both of your lips are swollen and red and Chris finally pulls back, just to admire you. “You are beyond beautiful. I love you so much.” His words are quiet, like he’ll break the magic moment if he speaks any louder.
 “I realize I haven’t told you how I feel yet.” You take a deep breath, preparing yourself to spill your feelings. “You are the kindest, most genuine person I have ever met. You go out of your way to make sure that everyone you care about is taken care of, even if that means not taking care of yourself.” You pause briefly, giving him a look. “We’ll talk about taking better care of you later.” He giggles as he presses a kiss to the corner of your mouth. “When we met, I had no idea how important you would become to me, and now that I know, I never want to not have you here. And I’m not worried that I’ll have to deal with that. You have given me more hope and love than I ever thought possible and I am so fucking in love with you.”
The kiss you receive in response is softer than the others and you aren’t sure how that is possible. You can feel every ounce of care this man holds for you in the barely there kiss. It makes your head spin. Slowly, his lips travel from yours down to your neck, sucking softly at the skin. You arch into him, gasping at how good it feels just to have his lips on you. His kisses travel lower, stopping at the edge of your sweater. “Can I take this off of you, babygirl?” You clench around nothing at the pet name, and of course Chris notices. He notices everything about you. 
You give him a nod and his hands slowly pull the sweater over your head, his eyes locked on yours as he removes it completely. Out of instinct, your hands move to cover yourself, but he grabs them before they make contact with your breasts. “Please don’t hide from me, my love. I want to see all of you. You’re so pretty.” Something churns inside of you at his compliments and you will yourself to keep your arms down. He trails his eyes down your chest, zeroing in on the fabric of your bra. He lifts his eyes back to yours, a silent question swirling in his brown irises. You give him a firm nod, not wanting him to sense any hesitation. You have no hesitation.
You reach around and unclasp your bra, bringing the straps down your shoulder until the garment falls onto your lap. “Fuck.” His voice is strained and you can hear the lust in his tone. But you can also hear the love. His hands rise to your chest, thumbs flicking over your nipples slowly. You let out a soft moan, biting your lip. His touch doesn’t linger for long, moving down to the top of your jeans. “Do you still want to keep going, baby? We don’t have to.” You love how he checks in with you before doing anything, it makes you feel so comfortable, like your comfort is more important than his desire. And you know that that is exactly how he feels.
“Chris, please.” The whine in your voice seems to do something to him because he groans as he begins to unbutton your jeans. While his hands are occupied removing you from the confines of your clothes, his lips press against your stomach. He takes his time with you and even though you’re soaked at this point, you don’t dare try to rush him. You can tell that he wants to worship you, and you intend to let him. His lips touch every new piece of skin that is revealed, not wanting to leave any part of you untouched. He leans back to take in the view of you. Your hair is slightly messy from his hands running through it. Your cheeks are flushed as you lay there in only your panties. You buck your hips up at him once and his hands immediately move to take the ruined fabric off. 
Once you’re bare beneath him, you gain a little confidence, spreading your legs so he can see your core. He outright moans at the sight. You can see his cock straining against his jeans, it’s big, that much you can tell. Your hole clenches at the thought of taking him, and again he takes notice. “What dirty thoughts are you thinking to have you clenching like that, babygirl?” The name makes you clench again and he smirks. “Oh? Y’like that do you? Like when I call you babygirl?” You spread your legs further apart as give him a nod, another groan coming from the gorgeous man in front of you.
“Yes, Daddy.” You stiffen. You have no idea where that came from. Never have you called a man daddy in bed, but for some reason, it felt so right that it just slipped out. Chris growls at that and you know you’ve found a weak spot for him. “Look at my pretty baby, all wet for me. Daddy’s gonna take good care of you, babygirl.” He lowers himself to the floor, grabbing at your ankles and slowly pulling your core toward his face. “Still good, baby?” Another nod from you and he presses a kiss to your clit. The contact has you arching into him, your obvious pleasure making his tongue dart out of his mouth to taste you. 
You try to keep your moans down as he devours you. You have a hand in his hair, not pulling, simply running your fingers through it. He alternates between circling your clit with his tongue and slipping the muscle inside of you, ending the pattern with a suck to your clit. The pleasure is overwhelming. It’s too much and it’s not enough. Your moans increase slightly in volume, until Chris stops his lovely attack on your pussy.
“Let me hear you, baby. I know you can do better than that. I heard you in the shower, you sounded so fucking beautiful. The best song I’ve ever heard.” You know you should be embarrassed, but you aren’t. His words only cause a new wave of arousal and a loud moan to escape you. “That’s it. There’s my good girl.” Another clench. Chris chooses this moment to slide a finger into you, curving it instantly, looking for the soft spot inside of you. He knows he’s found it when you buck your hips up and groan and he moves his face back down to lick at you more.
The combination of his tongue and fingers turn out to be deadly. You’re rapidly approaching your high. “Chris, please. I’m so close.” He picks up the pace of his fingers, pressing into your sweet spot on every thrust. Your moans flow out of you now, even if you wanted to stop them, you wouldn’t be able to. “There we go. Come on, babygirl. You can do it. Cum for me, cum for Daddy.” Your vision blurs, stars explode from your peripherals. Chris helps you ride out your orgasm before slowly pulling his fingers from you. “Can you open up for me, sweetheart?” Your mouth opens without you having to tell it to, and his fingers find their way onto your tongue. “Suck. See how good you taste.” You obey him without pause, moaning at the taste of yourself on his fingers.
He pulls his fingers from your mouth, moving them down to the button of his jeans, while the other hand reaches towards the nightstand for a condom. You reach out and grab his wrist, shaking your head. “Wanna feel you. All of you.” You can see his eyes glaze over with lust, but he still asks if you’re sure. You nod, you don’t think you’ve ever been so sure of something in your life. He moves with a little more haste as he kicks his pants off. “Holy shit.” You didn’t mean to say the words out loud, but one look at his cock has your mouth watering, but it also has you wondering if it’s going to fit. He has one hand slowly stroking himself, moving closer to your cunt, sliding himself through your folds. “Relax for me, love. All you have to do is relax and let me in.”
He pushes into you slowly, a deep, drawn out groan coming from his throat. A high pitched whine leaves you at the same time, a harmony of pleasure. Once he’s fully sheathed inside of you, he pauses, not moving. “Fuck, baby. You’re so tight. Fit me perfectly. Cunt was made for daddy’s cock, huh?” All you can do is nod and whine, and bring your legs to wrap around his waist. You manage to buck your hips slightly, trying to get him to move. He pulls his hips back slowly, pulling out until only the tip of his cock is resting inside of you. He shoves his cock back into you all at once, not too roughly, but making sure to hit deep. 
Your body moves into a deep arch at his thrusts, all hitting the spongy part inside of you perfectly. You’re already working your way to another orgasm. “Feel so good, baby. So glad I get to have you like this. Love you so much.” His thrusts start to speed up and you can tell that he’s holding himself back, wanting you to finish one more time before he lets himself go. “I’m close, sweet girl. Think you can come for me one more time? Come with me this time?” Tears are pricking the edges of your eyes and you quickly nod. “So close. So close, Love you. So close.” Your words come out jumbled, but you think Chris understands. He speeds up a little more, the both of you moaning in time with each other. Chris leans down so his mouth is right next to your ear. “Now, baby. Come now. I love you. You can do it.” You cum with a cry of his name, your pussy clamping down on his cock sends him into his own orgasm, groaning as he fills you.
You’re both panting by the time you come down. Chris slowly pulls out slowly, watching his seed dribble out of your spent hole. His hand twitches like he wants to push it back inside of you, but he doesn’t. He turns and leaves, you can hear the faucet running in the bathroom. He comes back with a warm cloth, carefully cleaning you up and adding a kiss to your forehead. He helps you up, walking with you to the bathroom so you can pee. When you emerge from the bathroom, he’s standing by the door with a bottle of water. He really is perfect.
Once you get back to his room, he gives you a shirt of his to wear to bed. “Need me to go get underwear from your room?” His thoughtfulness makes you smile. “Nah. Don’t need ‘em.” He smirks at that, knowing that you mean that this will lead to morning sex and he’s all for it. He joins you on his bed again, pulling you into his arms. “So, it’s midnight. How are you feeling about Christmas?” You’re silent for a moment, thinking of what you want to say. Pulling back to look at him, you smile.
“It’s the most wonderful time of the year.”
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dixongrimesgirl · 5 months ago
Text
Acting All Paternal
Carl grimes x fem!reader
content includes: smut, fingering, daddy, bredding, Judith being adorable
wc: 952
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You went over to your boyfriend's house in hopes he wasn't busy. You've been so lonely since shit with the Saviors started going down. Carl was always off helping people or fighting or coming up with plans that you two hadn't been spending much time together.
You arrived at the Grimes residence and walked in. Rick had said you were always welcome and to just walk in.
You find Carl sitting on the floor with Judith in his lap while he helps her stack some blocks. You felt your pussy flutter at how good he was with her. Your mind started to wander to how he would be as a dad when you were startled out of your fantasy.
"Hey, babe" he greets you.
You shift uncomfortably and walk over to him and Judith. "Hey" you reply as you sit down beside them.
"Good job" Carl coos to Judith when she's successfully stacked three blocks all by herself. She turns to look at him and touches her small chubby hand to his cheek. He chuckles and kisses her forehead.
"I have to go" you say abruptly. You're out the door within seconds leaving Carl wondering what happened.
You'd been avoiding Carl since then and after two days he couldn't take it anymore. He was taking Judith for a walk when he came across your house and decided enough was enough. He missed you and needed to fix whatever had happened.
He knocked on your door and you answered.
You knew this was gonna happen you just didn't know how to explain yourself to him.
"Can we talk?" he asks.
A million things run through your mind and none of them are good. Was he breaking up with you? You invited him in and you both sat down on the couch, Judith in his arms.
He startles you out of your thoughts when he asks "Did I do something wrong?"
"What? Of course not" you reply quickly.
"Okay, well then why did you run out on me the other day?" he asks.
"Watching you being so good with Judith made me think about how great a dad you'd be and it really turned me on." The words tumble out of your mouth so quickly you have time to stop them. There's a slight pause before Carl smirks.
"So seeing me with Judith made you want a baby?" he asks smugly.
"Yes. No. Maybe. Ugh, you're so impossible" you groan.
He chuckles. Judith chooses that moment go have to go to the bathroom. You tell Carl she can use the bathroom at your house and when she's done Carl tells you to meet him at his house tonight and maybe you'll get your wish. He winks and leaves you standing in your living room, face as red as a tomato.
It’s just past dinner time and you’re standing out front of Carl’s house. You knock on the door before opening it. You see Carl making his way over to you.
His lips connect with yours shocking you at first but you melt into his kiss.
"We're alone tonight. My dad and Michonne are on a run and Judith is with Tara." he whispers seductively causing you to bite your lip.
"Let's go upstairs, princess." he says and takes a hold of your hand. He walks you up the stairs and into his room. Even though no one is home he shuts the door and locks it just in case.
"My pretty girl. Wanna carry my baby? Wanna make me a daddy?" he growls as he nips below your ear. You moan and he smirks. He continues until you can't take it anymore and you cry out "Just fuck me, Carl!"
He chuckles and kisses your lips before quickly tugging your shirt off. He's quick to unclasp your bra and throws it across the room.
"Carl" you gasp as his lips suction around one of your pebbled nipples. He switches his attention to the other one drawing a moan from you.
“You make the sexiest sounds” he mumbles into your chest.
He trails kisses down your exposed stomach and when he reaches the waistband of your pants he looks up at you before yanking them down. You gasp as the cool air hits your pussy which is only clothed by a very thin pair of red lace panties.
“So sexy, baby. You’re so wet for me” he growls.
You moan as he rips off your panties and immediately plunges two fingers inside you.
“Carl!” You cry out
“That’s not my name tonight, babygirl” he smirks.
“Daddy” you gasp as he curls his fingers inside you.
“There’s my good girl” he praises.
He pumps his fingers into you hard and fast until you’re seeing stars.
“Good girl. All ready for daddy to fuck that tight little hole of yours” he growls.
He pulls back to stand up and remove his clothing. He catches you starting and chuckles to himself.
“Like what ya see, pretty girl?”
You nod.
He comes back over to the bed and lines himself up with your sopping hole. He sheathes himself completing inside you in one hard thrust.
“Daddy!” You cry.
“Daddy’s got ya”
You buck your hips up into his and he takes that as a sign to start moving.
He has you coming in no time, the knot in your stomach snapping as you cry out his name. A few more thrusts and he’s spilling inside you.
“Putting my baby in ya. Oh fuck” he grunts.
After a minute he pulled out and when he pushed two fingers inside you, you gasp.
“Gotta make sure it stays in. I’ll give ya a minute then we’re going again.” He tells you.
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ladydigianna · 6 months ago
Text
ours || poly! uliana's crew x reader
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|| note: AHHHH IM SO EXCITED FOR ALL OF YOU TO READ THIS
|| pairings: uliana x reader, hook x reader, morgie x reader, hades x reader, maleficent x reader, maleficent x hades
|| poly, fluff, jealousy
|| from the author: my favorite characters from rise of red mwa mwa
-fic under the cut-
The corridors of Merlin’s Academy were alive with activity, filled with a mix of students from different backgrounds—royals, villains, and everyone in between. You walked through the halls with a confident stride, a natural result of your royal upbringing. Yet, behind that confidence was a heart that had been captured by a rather unconventional group.
Uliana, Hook, Morgie, Hades, and Maleficent—they were your everything.
Your relationship with them had started slowly, each bond forming in its own time, like pieces of a puzzle falling into place. Uliana, with her sly smiles and endless charm, was the first to draw you in. Hook followed with his reckless grin and roguish wit. Morgie’s quiet strength, Hades’ surprisingly warm heart, and Maleficent’s fierce protectiveness—all of them had captured your heart in their own unique ways.
And they had captured each other’s too. Love flowed freely between all of you, a beautiful, tangled web of affection that defied the expectations of the world around you.
But today, something felt off.
You were outside by the fountain, chatting with your friends—Bridget, Ella, and Charming—when you noticed Uliana, Hook, Morgie, Hades, and Maleficent watching from a distance. Their expressions were tight, their postures stiff. Something was wrong.
After saying goodbye to your friends, you made your way over to them. “Hey, what’s going on?”
Uliana’s usual smirk was missing as she glanced at the others. Hook was the first to speak, his voice laced with a rare vulnerability. “(Y/N), why are you with us?”
You blinked, confused by the question. “What do you mean?”
Morgie sighed, crossing his arms as he leaned against a tree. “You’re a royal, (Y/N). You have everything—the status, the friends, the perfect life. Why would you want to be with a bunch of misfits like us?”
The words hit you like a punch to the gut. You looked around at them, seeing the insecurity and doubt in their eyes. Even Maleficent, usually so composed, looked unsure, her gaze fixed on the ground.
Hades was the one who broke the silence. “You could have anyone, (Y/N). Why choose us? We’re not like you. We’re... not enough.”
Your heart ached at the sight of their pain. You stepped forward, reaching for Uliana’s hand first. “You’re all more than enough for me. I don’t care about being a royal or what anyone else thinks. I care about you—all of you.”
You turned to Hook, placing a hand on his cheek. “You make me laugh like no one else can.”
Then to Morgie, brushing your fingers against his. “You’re strong and steady, always there when I need you.”
You faced Hades next, cupping his face in your hands. “You have the kindest heart, even if you try to hide it.”
And finally, to Maleficent, who met your gaze with uncertainty. “You’re fierce and protective, and I love that about you.”
You took a step back so you could see all of them at once. “I love you all for who you are. That’s why I’m with you—because you make me feel like I’m home.”
Uliana was the first to react, pulling you into a tight embrace. “I’m sorry,” she murmured into your hair. “We were just... scared, I guess.”
Hook joined in, wrapping his arms around both of you. “Yeah, we’re idiots.”
Morgie, Hades, and Maleficent followed, surrounding you in a warm, protective circle. “We’re lucky to have you,” Morgie said softly.
“And I’m lucky to have you,” you replied, squeezing them all tightly.
The tension melted away, replaced by the comforting warmth of being with the people you loved most in the world. Whatever doubts they had, you were determined to dispel them, to show them every day just how much they meant to you.
The next day, everything seemed to return to normal, or so you thought. You spent the morning attending classes, and during lunch, you hung out with your friends—Bridget, Ella, and Charming. They were laughing about something when Bridget’s expression grew serious.
“(Y/N), can we talk for a second?” Bridget asked, her tone low.
You nodded, curious but not alarmed. “Sure, what’s up?”
Ella and Charming exchanged glances before Ella spoke. “It’s about Uliana, Hook, Morgie, Hades, and Maleficent. They’ve been... well, they’ve been pulling pranks. Mean ones.”
Your stomach dropped. “What do you mean?”
Charming sighed, running a hand through his hair. “They’ve been targeting other students. Specifically, other royals.”
“They’re trying to prove something,” Bridget added, her voice gentle. “I don’t think it’s malicious, but it’s definitely causing problems.”
You felt a mix of disappointment and frustration. This wasn’t like them—not the people you knew and loved. But you also remembered the conversation you had with them the day before, how they had expressed their insecurities about your relationship. It all made sense now.
“Thanks for telling me,” you said, your voice steady. “I’ll handle it.”
You found them later that afternoon, gathered in their usual spot. They were laughing, clearly pleased with themselves over something. But when they saw you approaching, their smiles faltered.
“(Y/N), what’s wrong?” Uliana asked, noticing the serious expression on your face.
You crossed your arms, not bothering to mask your disappointment. “I know about the pranks.”
Their reactions varied—Uliana looked guilty, Hook tried to play it off with a grin, Morgie and Maleficent avoided your gaze, and Hades sighed deeply.
“Why?” you asked, your voice filled with hurt. “Why would you do something like this?”
“(Y/N), it’s not a big deal,” Hook started, but you cut him off.
“It is a big deal, Hook. You’re hurting people because you’re insecure. You’re trying to prove something that doesn’t need proving.”
Uliana frowned, her guilt turning to defensiveness. “They had it coming. Those royals look down on us. They think we’re nothing but trouble.”
“And you’re proving them right by acting like this!” you shot back. “You’re better than this. All of you are.”
Morgie finally spoke up, his voice subdued. “We just... we didn’t want to lose you. They have so much to offer, and we’re just...”
You softened at his words, your heart aching for them. “I chose you. I choose you every day. But this? This isn’t the way to handle it.”
Hades, who had been silent until now, stepped forward, taking your hand in his. “We’re sorry, (Y/N). We didn’t think it would get this far.”
You squeezed his hand, looking at each of them in turn. “You don’t need to prove anything to me. I love you for who you are, not for what you think you should be. I don’t want to see you hurting others because of your insecurities.”
Maleficent finally spoke, her voice low but sincere. “We won’t do it again. We’ll make it right.”
Uliana nodded, her earlier defensiveness melting away. “We’ll fix this, (Y/N). We promise.”
You let out a breath you didn’t realize you were holding, feeling the tension leave your shoulders. “Thank you. I don’t want to see you guys hurt anyone, but I also don’t want to see you hurting yourselves with this kind of behavior.”
They all moved closer, surrounding you in a group hug that felt as warm and comforting as ever. Uliana pressed a kiss to your temple, Hook wrapped an arm around your waist, Morgie rested his forehead against yours, Hades held you close, and Maleficent gently touched your cheek.
“We love you, (Y/N),” Uliana whispered, and the others murmured their agreement.
“And I love you,” you replied, your voice thick with emotion. “We’re in this together, okay? No more doubts, no more pranks. Just us.”
They nodded, and you knew they meant it. The love you shared was stronger than any insecurities, any doubts. And together, you would face whatever challenges came your way, hand in hand.
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Note
ok like my last ask but opposite
f!greaser who looks all pretty, haunted and scared and the gang + Tim and Curly being attracted to her. She has big doll eyes, low haunting voice- you have fun
Heck yeah I’m thinking like pretty dead girl aesthetic kinda vibes
Ponyboy Curtis
-thinks you’re super intriguing
-liked just watching you and seeing what you do
-he draws and paints you fr
-he just finds you hauntingly beautiful and fascinating
-you immediately stood out to him as a person
-you have super deep conversations with him at night
-looking at the stars with him while he softly kisses your cheek
-has written poetry about you and never showed you
Johnny Cade
-you both met at the lot
-he saw you sitting there, just looking at the fire you’d created
-he saw something in your eyes… sad and beautiful
-you reminded him of himself
-he tentatively walked over to you, and got the strongest urge to hold your hand
-which he resisted, silently sitting next to you as you turned your attention towards him
-with your big doll eyes
-they reminded him of Two Bits sisters only doll growing up, an antique porcelain one, a bit creepy
-you both have a silent understanding of each other that no one else quite understands
Sodapop Curtis
-sun and moon istg
-you were in the gas station, stopping by to grab something quick to drink
-as soon as he laid eyes on you he was pretty much in love
-he loved the way you looked
-people often told him his eyes were something you could get lost in
-but man, they didn’t meet you
-he immediately started hitting on you
-and when you reacted a bit startled and unsure of what to do
-he was like okayyyyy won’t do that again
-but over time his comments made you smile more and more
-until you somehow managed to say yes to a date with him
Darry Curtis
-he was walking to the store to pick up things for breakfast
-when you walked past
-no one else was out this early in the morning, everyone was inside having breakfast or sleeping in late
-but you were strolling through for whatever reason
-and you turned his head
-he noticed the subtle way you flinched
-when he tried calling you for your attention
-and when he finally looked at you he thought you were surely one of the most pretty broads he had ever seen
-something so mysterious yet beautiful, scared yet brave
-he does most of the talking for you, and yall are very cute together
-he’s so overprotective
Dallas Winston
-he was smoking in an alleyway when he saw you
-he whistled at you, and you flinched as he continued with some remarks
-“Well that’s a damn fine broad if I ever saw one”
-you seem uncomfortable
-“C-can you please stop?”
-you say, not much louder than a mouse, flashing him those big, scared, haunting eyes of yours
-it hit him like a bus
-and he did stop
-less out of respect and more out of shock but whatever
-later he approached you still with a cocky grin, but a less… asshole attitude
-you didn’t like him at first
-but he learned to have a soft spot for you just like Johnny
-you guys are so cute, and he’s super protective over you like Darry and Tim
Two Bit Mathews
-when he first met you
-he made a shit ton of jokes what do you expect
-“Damn, Dolly, how do you fit those eyes on your face?”
-“I bet you have some 20/20 vision with those telescopes.”
-“My sister has a porcelain doll just like you.”
-and at first you were a bit uncomfortable
-but shyly started cracking a small grin at his quips
-which boosted his fucking ego my guy
-made it skyscraper high
-you guys are cute together tho
-you always be there to silently giggle at his jokes
Steve Randle
-it was his shift at the gas station instead of sodapops
-and when he saw you he was like whoa
-he would pretend not to care and secretly memorized lots of things about you
-he notices the small behaviors everyone misses
-your flinching, your quiet nature, the way you always paid in only coins for everything
-your pretty brown bag you carry everywhere with you
-one day he asks you out, and you say yes
-you liked Steve quite a bit
-such an awesome couple
Tim Shepard
-ok so yk how you and soda are opposites like sun and moon?
-well you and Tim are opposites like fire and ice
-he saw you whenever he was in the middle of jumping a Soc
-you looked terrified and ran away at the mere sight
-he dropped the soc and instantly ran after you
-which you noticed and silently picked up your pace
-eventually he caught up and asked you to slow down
-you hesitantly did
-you looked up at him with those big doll eyes and he knew he was in love
-you flinched when he tried to grab your hand and he instantly felt bad
-he explained that was only someone who didn’t pay him back for something and he’d never hurt you
-you’re quite wary of him
-but the moment you kinda realized you liked him back was whenever he defended you
-from some creeps saying vulgar things
-you help ground him and calm him and he helps you be a bit braver
Curly Shepard
-you met in detention
-you were getting in trouble for something that wasn’t your fault because you couldn’t speak up for yourself
-and he was in there for lord knows what
-he’s never seen you around before or noticed you
-but now that he does…. Wow
-you look like you belong in a poem
-one of those fancy worded ones he’ll never understand
-you start playing with the paper on your desk, folding it as he kicks your chair you jump up
-“Sorry. Didn’t know you were so… uh- jumpy.”
-“Please don’t do that again.” You say softly, giving him earnest eyes
-he nods, not really paying too much attention to what you said and more focused on your eyes
-when you sit back down, he realizes how much he’s intrigued by you
-he moved to sit next to you, smirking
-over a bit of him trying to get to know you and you ignoring him
-you finally tell him your name
-“Y/n.”
-“Y/n, huh? I like that. It fits you”
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timeforaneclipse · 2 months ago
Text
Falling Apart (Lilia x reader)
Chapter Six - Knight of wands
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You hissed as Lilia dabbed the wet cloth onto your wounded face. The older woman gave you an apologetic look. A part of you felt embarrassed. Not because of the deep cuts because of what you were wearing in front of the older witch. "Will it scar?" Agatha growled out. As if this was all Lilia's fault. In truth, Agatha asked a silly question. the wound would leave a deep nasty scar.  Rio crossed her arms and eyed the massacre on your flesh. What could've happened to cause Michelle to go feral like that? Who had brought her back? The Seven? There was reason the dead should be left alone. This was it. "Jen... Do your spell... thing... the water!" Agatha yelled at the potions witch, going on a spiral. The young woman shrugged. There was no water or moon here.  There was nothing she could do. Besides your wounds didn't seem life threatening. 
As Agatha threw her fit, your eyes stayed focused on Lilia as she carefully cleaned the wounds. Realising you were staring, Lilia's face heated up but she tried to stay committed to the task at hand. Once she had finished, she set the bloody cloth to the side. She had been through this routine before. Mostly during her younger years when the Witch trials consumed every worry. Her finger tips hovered over your injured cheek, checking that the wound was clean. You watched her movements, pulling away slightly while narrowing you eyes when her touch lingered. Your eyes softened, however, when you saw there was no disgust or malice. You swallowed her intelligent eyes began to draw you in. She was captivating and completely concentrated. For a moment you had forgotten about the agony that burnt at your flesh. Her once wild curly locks were short and straightened. Her hair a now light brown. You missed the curls. She wore a yellow chequered shirt and white trousers. Noticing your staring, again, Lilia blushed briefly. "Is it ugly?" You whispered to the older woman, slightly defeated as you referred to your four cuts. 
"Horribly so.." The divination winked with a smirk, Attempting to lesson your worry through her own light-heartedness. You smiled weakly at her gentle attempt at humour despite the situation. Her hand found yours and her face became serious but not stern.  "No, I don't think so..." She whispered, eyeing the marks. Squeezing her hand, you watched her expression shift. "Scars show you survived.. and that is beautiful." You grew flustered at her honesty and wise words. Your pulse quickened as you stared at each other. You glanced to the older woman's lips. Thoughts hit you. Wondering how they'd taste against your lips. The divination witch's own eyes wondered down to your own lips. "Minerva..." She whispered as you inched closer, her touch in your hand tightening.  Teen noticed and tilted his head, smirking like a fool as he waited for the main event 
Agatha stilled her rant when she noticed the closeness between you both. The older woman's eye twitched. "Whatever is happening right now... better stop." Agatha gritted out, seething at the sight. Rio smirked and clicked her tongue at Agatha's anger. You cleared your throat and pulled away, leaving Lilia reaching. The divination witch's brows furrowed at your pull away. Damning Agatha. Looking around the... cabin? You found yourself interested by the lights and décor of the place. It seemed.... familiar? Teen began to scramble around his body and pockets. Panicking to himself as he said he couldn't find his spell book. Lilia attempted to calm the boy by asking where the boy had it last. When he said on a broom, Agatha groaned. "Forget it, you can take the training wheels off." She spat. Lilia gave the boy a worried sympathetic look. 
As the look for the purpose of the trial began, you drifted towards Lilia. You felt bad for earlier. "Who's trial is this?" Teen asked, as you shadowed near the divination witch. 
Rio scoffed as she noticed the moon phase. "Agatha's." The green witch smirked like the devil.  Agatha grew nervous immediately. Her blue eyes found yours as she stared, concerned. 
"A blood moon..." The divination witch hummed as her eyes narrowed. Following Rio's gaze towards the painted red moon wit the purple background. "When the veil between the living and the dead is at it's thinnest." She frowned in thought. Teen immediately got confused and questioned Lilia. He thought that talking to the dead was her skill? You rolled your eyes. "Oh common misconception. I read people, I read time but talking to spirits was just con." She smiled reassuringly at the teenager. 
Rio smirked and slowly walked towards her ex lover. "And who better to commune with the dead then someone who's put so many in the grave." She purred towards Agatha. Agatha perched her lips and gave the green witch a poisonous side eye. In seconds, a board game was magically flung out. You bit the inside of your cheeks and pulled Lilia away from the bored. Her hands grabbed yours. Teen and Alice rushed forward and Teen picked up the box... You felt your heart quicken and your panic rose. It wasn't a game... It was the Ouija. Lilia gasped as her watch went off. You own buzzed and you looked at it. A countdown... thirty minutes. After setting the board up, Teen began to read the rules. 
"Okay so.. Number one, don't use the Ouiji board alone." He began. Agatha threw her hands up in the air, thinking this was stupid. "Number two, do not speak over each other." Your ears rang as the group suddenly began to do just that. As you cringed, Teen spoke over the groups collective arguing. "Three! Do not taunt the spirits." Your eyes drifted to Agatha. And you didn't seem to be the only one. Agatha looked baffled that the coven had turned their attention on her. Teen repeated the rule. "Do not taunt the spirits." he glared lightly as Agatha sighed and crossed her arms. "four, Do not ask about death." That seemed simple enough. "Five, always end your session with goodbye. Six, do not remove your hand from the planchette. If you do so, a spirit will be released." Alice and Jennifer huddled closer to each other while sharing a look. You gave Lilia's hand a gentle squeeze but the divination witch didn't dare look your way. Lilia let go of your hand to look on at the back of the instructions. You narrowed your eyes and huffed gently. 
Everyone sat down bar Agatha. Ever hesitant. You settled beside Lilia, keeping her in your view. When Agatha braved herself, she sat down and flicked her hair. Putting your fingers on the planchette, your breath hitched when you felt Lilia's against your own. Your eyes drifted to her fingers. The trial let her keep her rings... You swallowed as you watched her hands adjust. So different from your own claws.. "Mother, Maidan, Crone..." Agatha began, eyeing the group. "Spirits be known." The blue eyed witch clicked her tongue. "I can hear something... shhh." You frowned at her words. Feeling alert, you jumped as the planchette began to move. Teen began to panic but was cut short by the coven hisses at him to be quiet. "Is someone here with us during this witching hour?" Agatha went on to question. The... spirit moved to the word yes on the board. "And WHO, may I ask, do we have the pleasure of communing with?" You raised an eyebrow at her question. Unsure whether it was sarcastic or not. 
R
S
H
A
R
T
"Mrs Hart?" Alice smiled. You growled and lowered at the name. Something felt off... 
"Hey girl... Feeling better?" Jennifer went on to ask 
Just as Lilia reminded them about no taunting the planchette moved with a jerk sending the divination witch off with a yelp. "Your hands! What did you do!" Agatha hissed as Lilia stared at her own hands disbelief, claiming she didn't do it. Your lips became thin as Agatha began to shake. Your eyes narrowed at the familiar sight. Rio glanced your way and smirked. Jennifer fell into Alice and the protection witch hugged the potions witch as Agatha continued to freak out. Lilia looked completely horrified. "Oh my.... What a journey..." Agatha began, her voice a higher pitch. You watched dead faced as she continued. "There I was living my tiny life in the burbs, baking casseroles, linking into conspiracy theories on face-book," She stood and backed away from the group. "Drinking before noon! And there you were, bringing chills and thrills and bringing on my early demise!" She giggled. 
Lilia frowned, her sad eyes wide in remorse. "Listen, Mrs hart-" You tapped the older woman's arm.  Stopping her from indulging Agatha's twisted game. As unaware as she was. Lilia gave you a confused stare and Alice corrected Lilia saying it was Sharon Davis.
"Agatha used to do this all the time when I was kid.." You mumbled to the Divination witch. Her eyes narrowed as she stared at Agatha who was trying uphold the act of the dead woman. Agatha's smile vanished when Rio gave her look. Claiming that she was just scared. Lilia cleared her throat and leaned against  her hand, not like the direction that this had gone. 
Agatha swallowed and patted down her long purple shirt. "Well, I thought that was pretty good." She frowned. Alice was quick to protest that time was ticking and she was right. Rio patted the seat next to her at Agatha sat down with a huff. "Well, lets get to it!" She hissed and the group followed suit. "Maiden, mother, crone..." Agatha began once more. "Spirits be known..." This time lights began to flicker. The hairs on the back of your neck stood. You were not alone. Your ear twitched and you could have sworn you heard a growl. You went to protest that something wasn't right... that something felt evil... but you were shut up by Rio's hard glare. "Who is here with us tonight?" Agatha continued. The planchette began to move once more. Harsher then before as it spelt out it's next word. Death. Rio cackled and you hung your head. "What do you want?" Agatha asked now nervous. 
"P, u, n, i, s, h." Punish? You felt your blood ran cold. Agatha paled and asked who. You felt very unnerved. "A, G, A, T, H, A." Agatha... Punish Agatha.  You glanced to Rio, wondering if this was a sick joke. Agatha began to panic, ordering the group to stop. The lights continued to flicker and the pull became more deadly. Everyone began to argue over each other. Agatha let go, cowering in on herself. "NO, WHAT ARE YOU DOING!?" Lilia screamed at the cowering woman. Her own fear swallowing her whole. The board went flying and you screamed at the sight. The spirit was angered.  You covered your ears as the sorrowful screams of the dead burst through the room. "I hated this the first time!" The divination witch cried. First time?! 
"Lilia's being weird again!" Teen shouted.
"What do they want!" Alice winced. 
Jennifer narrowed her eyes. "They already told us!" She shouted over the tortured screams. "Punish Agatha!" The screams stopped. Agatha paled. Looking terrified. Alice looked wide-eyed practically asking for confirmation. "Yep... it's how we pass the trial." Jennifer smirked, taking too much pleasure in this then what you liked. "And after everything she's done...  the lies, the cheating, the complete and utter lack of humanity." In a flash, and without thinking, you placed your body between the potions with and your mother, who was sitting on the floor.  Vulnerable like a bullied child. 
"No." You hissed at the smaller woman, thankful for your height at the moment. "I won't allow it..." You growled at the potions witch. Rio tilted her head in interest at your defence. Agatha teared up slightly at your protective stance in front of her. You were protecting her.  Shielding her from the coven... Just like how she had shielded you when you were a child. "I know, Agatha deserves punishment but not this... Not like this." You spat at the potions witch, daring her to try to get you to move. 
Lilia stepped forward, trying to defuse the tension between the two of you. "We could tie her up." She shrugged as she hummed deep in thought. You swallowed, feeling slightly betrayed. The divination witch frowned when she noticed the look in your gaze. But what choice was there? 
"Humiliation would work too?" Your eyes widened at Alice's words. What was this!? Then stepped onward with a devilish look. Suggesting just to cut Agatha's throat. You took a step back at her words, not wanting to be near her. 
The group continued to circle around the two of you and you began to feel trapped. You glanced down to Agatha's rigid figure on the floor. The older woman shrugged and looked annoyed. "And people ask me why I don't have female friends." She huffed in a pout. 
Teen looked around confused, you frowned. Blass his innocent idiotic heart. "But we were getting along, weren't we?" He asked like a child. So much false hope. "We were clicking! There was unity!" He argued, trying to find a light in the dark. 
However, Jennifer waved him off. "Familiars don't get votes." She spat at the teenager, giving you a pointed look. 
Something in you snapped. "Kale." You barked. Angered. The lights flickered and Agatha shared a knowing look with Rio. You used to lose your temper often as a teenager... so often that you once ended up breaking your friend's nose after she called Agatha a slur.  "That's enough." You hardened gaze took the coven by surprised. "No one is laying a fucking finger on Agatha. Get that through your thick skull, lass." You hissed, your accent cutting through the cabin. 
"Coming to save mummy, dear Minnie?" Jennifer smirked, deciding to see how far she could push you. You cringed at the sound of your nickname on her mouth. A part of you felt hurt, in truth, you were beginning to enjoy Jennifer's company. "What are you going to do about it, Minerva? Spit a fur ball at me?" The potions witch sneered, annoyed that you were getting in the way of what obviously had to be done. She didn't understand why you, who had been so quiet and observant in every previous trial, suddenly were taking the lead. Teen tried to intervene but was scorned by Lilia's look of concern. Not wanting the Teenager to get in the middle of the two angered witches. Your glare pierced the potion "What about a slap on the wrist? Go on, Minerva, what you going to do to stop us?" A slap rang through the air. Alice gasped and covered her mouth at the sight of you standing over the potions witch with a dangerous glint in your eyes. Jennifer held her cheek. You just.. just smacked her. You sneered as the pink witch recovered from your backhand. She went to slap you back, but you caught her hand. "Minerva!" She yelled in anger. 
Without warning, she took a chunk of your hair and pulled down. You yelled in pain. Your claw like nails scratched at her skin as you both tumbled to the ground. Lilia's eyes widened as she cringed at the display. You were in no condition to be rolling around the ground like dog. Especially with Jen. Teen guided her back as you and Jennifer continued to throw limps at each other. You managed to scrap your way on top and pin her hands, kneeing the potions witch in the ribs. A smirk left you. "Is that all you got, kale?" You hissed with a snarky smirk. You couldn't make her out well enough. Not with the combination of pain, Your glasses lost on the road and the wound on your cheek. Lilia breathed heavily as she watched your position on top of potions witch. Her brows furrowed and her lips thin. A gentle very unnoticeable red on her cheeks. You suddenly felt arms snake around your waist, pulling you off of the Potions witch.
Rio gritted her teeth as she kept you restrained. You relaxed in her arms, unwillingly but you had no choice. Breathing heavily, Death let you go as she felt you ease. "W-where did Agatha go?" Alice asked hesitantly. You stood and brushed yourself down. The lights turned off and everyone was on alert. Out of breath, Jennifer called for Agatha, her tone daunting. You sneered at the young woman and looked to her forming bruising. Did she need another? "We need light." Alice whispered worried. 
Cringing, you tensed and slowly inched towards Lilia. Keeping the divination witch close. She seemed to gravitate towards you too. What was that sound... It sounded so close. "Does anyone else hear that?" Lilia asked, her eyes trying to see through the darkness. Before you knew it, Teen began to scream. Jumping you turned your head in his direction, following his light source up. You yelped in horror and grabbed Lilia as she screamed at the sight of Agatha's possessed form clinging to the roof. Suddenly, she jumped down, hissing at the group like a wild animal. Her body began to twist and bones began to crack. You gasped as you watched the sight of your mother chasing after Teen on all fours. Jennifer screamed at Agatha, drawing her attention. The possessed woman took Jennifer by the throat and began to chock her in a deathly tight grip. You felt a tug on your arm and followed Lilia to the wall's power box. Just in the Knick of time, Lilia restored the power. Fixing the lights but causing Agatha to disappear. 
Clutching onto each other like a lifeline, Lilia and yourself frowned. Taking in the room. Rio grew angry as she shout for Agatha. A light source began to come down from the stairs. You hissed and pulled Lilia behind you slightly. If there was anything that you and Rio shared, it was a hate for ghosts. As the ghost took full form, Lilia demanded it's name. "Evanora Harkness of the Salemites." You nearly laughed at  the ghost. Salemites. What a silly name... 
Agatha crawled up from the the balcony. "Hey, mom." She frowned with a bitterness. Flicking her now undone hair out of her face. "It was nice having you in my body for a second there..." She ached from the possession. Mom? This was her mom? "I've never felt so close to you before." She continued sarcastically.
Evanora rolled her eyes and floated towards the group. "My coven risked everything to kill her and you fools have willingly joined her!" The ghost bellowed. Angered. You gritted your teeth. 
"Stop embarrassing me in front of my friends, mom." Agatha covered her face, embarrassed. You cringed. Thankful it was Agatha that had raised you and not Evanora. 
Jennifer looked to Lilia for guidance, eyes begging on what to do. You frowned. You couldn't simply just banish her, unfortunately. "Emotion ties them to this plane." Lilia began, keeping everyone within arms reach. "They have unfinished business." She explained, concern laced in her gaze. 
Teen nodded then asked the ghost of Agatha's mother what she wanted. "You must finish the witches road... Without Agatha." The colour drained from your face. Lila sent a glance your way. Noticing your sudden fear. You had left Agatha before. You could live without her. But you left when she was alive and well. Safe. Her fate in her own hands. You didn't... you'd never leave her like this. Damn the road. "Leave her. With me." Rio, sharing your panic began to protest. Evanora sneered and hissed at Death with a hateful glare. You bit the inside of your cheeks and your lips became thin. 
Agatha began to inch down the the stairs. Calling her mother. Evanora turned back to Agatha, her chin held high. Agatha, in that moment, looked like a child. A rejected child... Much too similar to how you looked when Agatha had first found you and Michelle. So hurt and rejected but still clinging to that little rag of light someday someone would accept you and tell you that you were enough.  "Why do you hate me still?" She asked quietly, her voice cracking. 
"You were born evil." Your heart dropped at her mother's response. No child was born evil... "I ought to have killed you the moment you left my body." Your jaw dropped. That little spec of hope Agatha was clinging onto had vanished... You were frozen in place. 
"We have to go." Jennifer said suddenly, catching the group by surprise. Teen frowned and tried to protest. "No! No. There's no flood here... There's no fire. The only danger to us in this trial.. is Agatha Harkness." Your eyes narrowed at her comment as your own protests reached the potion witch's ear. "Oh, go choke on a hair ball, Minerva, you heard what she said." Jennifer bit back, and for a moment, you saw pity in her eyes. 
Still slightly offended, you mumbled under your breath. "I'll choke on a hair ball when you come up with a more creative insult." Lilia gave a weak smirk and stroked your arm. Your heart ached as Agatha began to beg to be taken with the coven. Evanora, wasting no time, began to possess Agatha once more. You called Agatha's name but it was a failed attempt.  Your eyes widened in fear but then the room glowed orange. Alice. You watched at the girl shot Agatha's form with a magical blast, sending the ghost of Evanora away. "Alice, stop it!" You yelled. You had seen this all before. And there never was a good ending. Lilia was taken a back, horrified at the sight before her. In an instant, Agatha began to absorb Alice's power. Lilia screamed for the girl but you pulled her away. Keeping her from approaching the two. Perhaps it was selfish... You knew it was. But you weren't going to risk Lilia for Alice..
As Agatha drained the young woman of her life force, Teen suddenly shouted the name that was woven into Agatha's terrors. Nicholas Scratch. Everything went still. An exit was revealed. Alice lay lifeless on the floor. Nothing but a withered corpse. The smell of death lingered in the air and you looked at Agatha's confused gaze. Agatha tried to approach, coming to realise what she had done and the price that was paid. Teen snapped at the older woman. "Don't touch her!" He cried. "She was protecting you... But you don't deserve it." He gripped Alice tighter. 
Agatha scanned the group, seeing their gazes of mistrust, hate and disgust. She teared up. "I didn't..." She was speechless. Overwhelmed, Agatha ran for the exit.
 You brows furrowed and you were about to go after her when Lilia grabbed your hand. Keeping you still. "Don't. Sometimes it's best to give space." She whispered and pulled you closer. Agatha's eyes lingered on that small movement before she disappeared.
--I_I<-)0(->I_I--
As you walked out of the trial, You stuck close to Lilia's side. As you passed Teen and Agatha, Lilia paused. "Death comes for us all..." She spoke softly. Like it was a comfort. You brows furrowed in confusion before you looked to Agatha. She went to speak but could not. You gave her a soft smile and placed your hand in hers. Given it a light squeeze. Teen glared at you. Alice had just died.... Yet you were comforting her. If the boy was being honest. He was unaware how much he could truly trust you. The more he saw you... The more Harkness you appeared instead  of Smith. and that, was a scary thought. 
As you followed Lilia, you noticed how upset Jennifer really was. You bit the inside of your cheeks and sat beside her. "I'm sorry." You whispered softly. "For giving you too many bruises to count... and for Alice. She was a good witch..." You smiled reassuringly. Jennifer didn't answer. She didn't have to. You had speculated that she and Alice were closer then most when it came to the coven.. Jennifer searched your eyes then continued to look at nothing. You got the message. Standing, you walked over to Lilia. She frowned and scanned your face. "Don't look at me like that, Calderu... I tried..." You frowned and put your hands in your pockets.
The older woman softened. "I know.." She was about to continue but her body tensed. Your own body mimicked her movements as your eye twitched. Something felt off. Your nose twitched and you transfigured into your tabby cat form. Inching towards the energy shift. You kept yourself low and unnoticed. Just as you got comfortable, you screeched in agony. Your tail! Damn it! You glared at what had stood on your tail and noticed Lilia and Jennifer storming towards Agatha. You climbed up a tree to get a better few. Your ears lowered at the sight. Agatha struggled as Lilia and Jen flung her off the road. Every instinct in your body told you to lay low. You got a glimpse of their eyes. Blue. far from the beautiful honey brown you were used to. Then, Teen flung the two witches off of the bank. You panicked and jumped off the tree and ran to the edge of the bank. You.... weren't sinking in this form...  Too light Perhaps? But, you were too late. The three witches were gone. You glanced around, claws digging into the soil. As you did this, you noticed Teen staring at you. Glaring, you lowered you body and hid in the bushes.
+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++
here you goooo!
Hopefully this lives up
Thank you so much for reading 
105 notes · View notes
its-all-papaya · 5 months ago
Note
about the kiss prompts. I'd love to read about landoscar for 5 *and* 6 - a kiss where it hurts and where it doesn't hurt. I think that would go amazing together. I was thinking about the emotional kind of hurt but please do whatever feels right :)
heyyyyy this is like. not the emotional kind of hurt. but i saw everybody writing kid fic landoscar on the feed and i had to join in or die, so have 1.5k of fluffy, sappy singledad!lando.
send me a ship and a number and i will write a kiss
5. where it hurts & 6. where it doesn't hurt | landoscar | 1.5k
Lando’s been in love with Oscar for months already the first time he hears “I love you.”
It’s the kind of late-summer hot that burns off in the early evening, leaving you shivering and wondering when it started. Lando’s in the kitchen at his sister’s place, elbow deep in dishwater, as him mum prattles on about the very expensive wedding of the daughter of a neighbor Lando doesn’t remember from his childhood home.
“Personalized, engraved wine glasses,” she’s saying as he hands off another plate he’s rescued from the murky bottom of the sink so she can dry it. The window in front of them is thrown open so they can keep an eye on the backyard, where the rest of the family is nursing the last of the drinks they’d opened with dinner. Tied off to the fence posts, Lando’s niece’s birthday balloons float gently with the breeze that carries the sounds of a half-dozen conversations in for them to gather pieces of. If he listens hard enough, Lando can pick out his favorite accent from among them, several ticks off from the rest of the crowd’s English. It’s warm in Lando’s chest, the way Oscar has settled so easily today. He hadn’t been worried, but it’s the first time Lando’s brought him around to a whole family event like this – all three of them, Lando, Oscar and Emma – and everything has gone so remarkably smoothly.
“Insane, isn’t it?” His mum asks, drawing Lando’s attention back to the kitchen.
“Extravagant,” Lando agrees to appease her. He’s only halfway through sponging off the next handful of silverware when his focus is snatched right back up by the familiar, gut-tug sound of his daughter crying.
“Shit,” he says then as he scans the backyard through the screen to seek her out among his various relatives. It figures that she’d be fine all day while Lando was around, and the minute he’d ducked in to help with the washing, she’d find her way to trouble. His mum’s already handed off her dish towel for Lando to dry his palms with and he’s half-turned towards the door, cutlery abandoned back to the suds, when he finally spots Emma. She’s just reached three feet (on the small side for three-years-and-a-few-months old, but that was always going to happen with the genes Lando’d given her), so it’s mainly her curly head he can see as she runs back from the swings towards the patio, where the adults are all gathered.
“Gonna-” Lando hooks a thumb over his shoulder for his mum’s benefit, eyes still trained on his girl. Emma hits the group and skips right past the lost look he’d been expecting when she realized he wasn’t there, though, skips right over missing Lando and straight ahead to-
“Oscar,” she whines, arms outstretched and voice high like it gets when she’s upset. Lando watches from the kitchen as his boyfriend kicks off the wall to kneel next to her. He’s got half a beer still in one hand, but the other goes to Emma’s back as she falls into his shoulder. Lando’s heart feels racing and stopped all at the same time as he watches Oscar murmur to her, too low for him to hear across the garden.
It's a minute before she’s coaxed back up out of his chest. Her face is still red and teary, nose twitching, but she offers her hands out when Oscar asks for them. Lando’s stopped moving completely, frozen with the dish towel wrapped between his fingers.
“Can I see?” he picks up from the distance. Oscar smooths his thumb into the middle of Emma’s hand until she flexes her fingers out for him, displaying palms full of grass bits.
“Fell,” she gets out between little hiccupping sobs. Oscar sets his drink aside so he can tug her closer without letting go of her hand.
“Well, that’s no good. Can I help?” he asks and it’s soft, it’s tender, it makes Lando himself want to cry for an entirely different reason.
She nods. Her head falls sideways, back onto Oscar’s shoulder, as he brushes the dirt and grass away. Then he purses his lip to blow the last of the dust off and smacks a kiss right in the center of her hand, playing it up loud enough to make Emma smile about it through the last of her tears.
“Oscar!” she says again, all giggles this time. Lando’s heard Oscar laugh about the way Lando pronounces his name, but it’s only when Emma says it, his own accent in miniature, that he sees what there is to grin about. She seems to be mostly cured of the panic, but in the next moment Oscar scoops her up anyway, settling her on his hip and checking that she’s chilled out as he returns to his conversation. Everything keeps moving around them.
“So,” Lando’s mum says. He jumps a little, having forgotten where he was.
“Um.” Lando says back. She’s smiling like a maniac at the side of his head. “I’m gonna-” he repeats, same thumb motion as a minute ago. He departs for real this time, though, depositing the towel back in her hands as he goes.
“Hey,” he breathes out when he’s reached Oscar’s corner of the patio. He’s not sure where to put his attention first, honestly, a little overwhelmed, so he curls a hand around Oscar’s hip with one hand and tucks Emma’s hair behind her ear with the other. “All sorted?”
“All sorted,” Oscar agrees. He tilts his head to meet Emma’s eyes, eyebrows raised like he’s waiting for her to sign off as well.
“All better,” she confirms. She doesn’t reach for Lando, though.
Oscar’s gaze is still focused on her when he says, “Just wanted a little cuddle before going back to play, right? Nothing serious.” He shifts Emma slightly in his arms and she turns her face into his shoulder for a second, like she’s embarrassed he’d tell on her that way.
“Good plan,” Lando says, tucking her hair back once again.
“Just like dad,” Oscar adds, and Lando definitely can’t find room inside of himself to be embarrassed – not with the way his chest is all cozy, like a dryer-warmed blanket.
“Oscar gives a good cuddle,” he agrees instead.
There’s a beat of silence: Lando looking at Oscar, Oscar looking at Emma, Emma looking back and forth between the two of them and the swing set, where her cousins are still playing.
“I’m ready,” she decides finally. She plants her palm on Oscar’s opposite shoulder and leans back in his arms so she can look him in the face instead.
“Great!” Oscar says.
“Emma,” Lando says, “say thanks to Osc, yeah? For fixing you up?”
“Thanks, Oscar!” she chirps, agreeable. Then she smacks a kiss against his cheek, a match to the one on her own palm, and says, “I love you!” as he sets her down, easy as anything.
Like she’s said it a thousand times. Like it’s not anything, like it’s just a fact of her life.
Lando watches her run off with a hand on his own cheek, half over his mouth. He knows he must look insane in one direction or the other, the way his eyes are watering and he’s smiling to hide how his heart is beating triple-time inside of his chest. But Oscar just slides an arm around his waist, drawing Lando in close to his side.
“Sorry if that was-”
“No,” Lando stops Oscar before he can even start. “That was, like…” precious, Lando thinks, more than I ever expected.
It's just... there were days after Emma’s mum was gone, when he was alone with his baby, that he’d stayed up at night and stared at her even after she’d finally gone down for him; days where he’d wondered whether either of them would ever get to say the words to anybody else. There were moments, nights, weeks on end where everything felt scary, and the thought of bringing a whole extra person into their lives was impossible to entertain, more work than it was worth no matter how badly Lando yearned for it. And there were times with Oscar, even, early on, where Lando had hesitated against his lips mid-snog on the couch and despite all the burgeoning something in his own heart, thought: selfish.
He’s never felt further from it all, though, watching Emma jump from the apex of her swing’s trip up towards the sky. She’s never been afraid for long. Comes by it honestly, Lando thinks as he buries a smile against Oscar’s shoulder.
“That was…?” Oscar prompts into Lando’s hair. He’d pressed a kiss there a moment ago and never moved.
“That was really important,” Lando settles on, still misty eyed.
Oscar’s palm does a quick pass up and down his spine before wrapping back around to squeeze Lando in half a hug, “Okay, though? I didn’t overstep or anything?”
“No,” Lando’s laughing then, still a bit wet, as he dislodges Oscar’s chin from the top of his head, “Can’t believe she loves you, holy shit.”
Oscar smiles down at him, “Just like her dad?”
“Just like her dad,” Lando confirms, then presses his own sweet smile right into Oscar's lips.
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lessi-lover · 1 year ago
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Begging for the softest Katie McCabe fic ever where she and her girlfriend are just absolutely obsessed and in love and would do anything for each other and their Arsenal teammates make fun of them for it.
flirty II k.mccabe x reader
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small little one to start of the year! missing my katie content atm ★ flirty II k.mccabe x reader
"save some of that energy for me later, won't ya, love?" your girlfriend teased as she ran past, swiftly dribbling around you, but not before kicking the ball through your legs. you stood bewildered, a look of pure shock on your face. the cocky smirk on her face as she glanced back at you was infuriating. you could only stand from afar and watch, as she made a beeline towards the goal, successfully dribbling past all her opposition. it was only the loud ripple of the ball hitting the back of the net that snapped your mind back to life.
walking her way over to you cockily, her hand connected sharply with your behind, making you yelp loudly. you flushed bright red, and you turned to glare at her, only to hear your teammates snickering behind you. she stood there, a few feet away, her face lit up with a mischievous grin, clearly pleased with herself. "i told you to stop doing that in front of people," you shouted as you ran after her, trying to sound stern but failing to hide the amused smile tugging secretly at the corners of your mouth.
her laughter rang in your ears, and she looked over your head winking at her jeering teammates. "oh, come on love, you know you love it," she mocked, pinching your burning cheeks, before turning to jog back to the game.
as you watched her effortlessly blend back into the game, skillfully maneuvering the ball with ease, your irritation faded into fondness. her ability to bring make everyone burst into laughter even the most mundane moments was truly a gift. her talent on the ball never left you not feeling proud, and you felt incredibly lucky to call her yours.
"come on, stop drooling at the girl, her ego is already big enough," caitlin teased you, as you admired your girlfriend. her voice loud enough to draw more laughter and taunting from the other girls. you shook your head, your face somehow even redder now, and if it weren't for the weather being so chilly today, you were sure you would have copped some more insults, as you ran back to your position.
you ran up the sidelines, determined to prove yourself to your team after the mistake you'd just made. you made every run, creating a multitude of options, to try and help your team, and you were rewarded with the score being lifted to a tie.
a loud whistle sounded in your ears, signalling it was the end of practice. you breathed a sigh of relief, before you felt a pair of arms wrap tightly around your waist, and you were pulled tightly into their chest. you placed your hands on top of theirs, leaning back into the familiar hold.
"beautiful play, darlin." your girlfriend spoke. "couldn't take my eyes of ya." she admitted, and you rolled your eyes at her, now a smile shown on your face. "couldn't take your eyes of me, or my ass?" you questioned. "both." she confessed. pressing her lips to the side of your face, as you squirmed in her arms, which only made her hold you tighter.
"oi, get a room you too!" alessia yelled as she walked past, boots and water in hand. "yeah, nobody asked for a front seat to whatever you two do at home." vic, the younger of the two agreed, the both of them cracking up and smacking each others shoulders in amusement.
"ya sure? i thought i heard someone say you were VIP's?" katie retorted, her voice high in confusion, although the smirk on her face gave it away. gently grasping your neck, she swiftly closed the distance between you. her lips met yours warmly, as her hand came up to rest behind your ear. she kissed you as if she was rediscovering every contour of your mouth, her lips moving passionately slow against yours.
you pulled back, your smile mirrored her own as you stood shocked at her unexpected kiss. a series of jeering comment rippled through your teammates, as you were both scolded by your captain for 'inappropriate workplace behavior', although the slight curl of her lips betrayed her words, she really did love you both more than she could admit. it was clear the she was only acting stern for the sake of team discipline.
as you walked, hand in hand towards the dining room, you were suddenly another arm wrapped around shoulder, the person pulling you into them. "come have lunch with your fav girls." steph declared, your right arm now looped with kyra's who lay her head on you.
looking to your right, you saw your girlfriend being similarly 'kidnapped' by viv. the team now working together to separate the two of you. viv rolled her eyes when she caught the brunette eyes lingering for a moment too long, as you, steph and kyra walked in front of them.
"stop staring." "i'm not." "yes you are." "im allowed to look at my girl." "softie."
katie trudged angrily in the cold, her hands rubbing up and down her forearms, desperate to fight off the chilly weather. usually this was your job, forever warning the girl about the cold weather and that her lack of gear would result in a nasty cold. you often ridiculed her about her stubborn refusal to wear proper clothing, but she'd just flash you a grin, one that said she could handle the cold. but today you weren't there to drape your scarf around her neck, or to scold her for wearing a thin jacket.
instead, you were experiencing some similar clapback from your best friends. as you tried to catch up to katie, you path was blocked. "not so fast, cheeky. your little girlfriend will do just fine on her own." the younger girl teased, arms crossing sarcastically over her chest. "ky." you tried to reason with her, but she was having none of it, her head still obstructing your view of your girlfriend.
huffing, you made your way to lunch, but not without brushing off your friends, in an effort to let them know you were not happy. the entirety of training you were stolen every time you tried to interact with your girlfriend, and every time you tried to partner up with her, she was already being dragged away by one of your teammates.
and now, all you wanted to do was be with katie, cuddle up by the fire inside and just be in her company. as you walked, you made little clouds of cold air in front of you, and you couldn't help but think of katie. you could hear kyra and steph chatting beside you, and distant conversation around you, but there was only one girl you really really wanted to talk to.
finally making it inside, you felt you skin immediately warm up, the heaters warming the insides of your body. as the chill resided you, you felt your muscles relax, the tension fading away gratefully.
as you lifted your hoodie over your head, you made your way over to the buffet, intent on trying the new pasta recipe you had overheard on your way in this morning. you shuffled behind some of the girls, a few of them annoyingly blessed with indecisiveness. when you looked up, you saw the chefs chuckling and pointing behind you.
confused, you turned around and your heart all but melted at the sight. there sat your girlfriend, isolated from all your teammates, with a full plate of food and a similar looking plate next to her. walking up to the girl finally had you with a bright smile on your face.
"can i sit with you?" you questioned, the glint in your eyes unwavering. "no sorry. i'm waiting for my gorgeous girlfriend." she responded, tone dripping with sarcasm, as a small giggle left her lips. "i'm sure she won't mind if i sit with you in the meantime?" you replied. "i suppose she'll get over it." she said, shrugging her shoulder, and pulling out the chair for you.
"so flirty this morning aren't you."
"missed you, darlin." your girlfriend laughed, her ring clad hand now lying comfortably on your thigh. "again, missed me or my ass?" you asked, raising your eyebrows mockingly. the girl pinched your stomach, placing a sloppy kiss on your cheek, to which she was pushed away with a grin. "definitely you. but i won't deny it, your ass is pretty great," she teased, her hand resting on your side.
"you got my favourites!" you said, eyes gazing at the food you knew katie would have hand picked for you. "anything for you," she admitted, and you felt your cheeks flush once again. "and your ass," she said not a minute later, bursting into a fit of laughter, almost falling off her chair, whilst you smacked her chest offensively.
calming down, she was now aware of the amount of looks she was getting, a few of the girls shouting over to ask if she was alright. "that was so not funny katie." you spoke, arms crossed over your chest. "nah you should've seen your face, darlin." shaking your head, with a grin on your face, you tuned to the girl raising your eyebrows as if to say, "are you done?"
you shared a smile, you saw her gaze shift from your eyes to your lips, and you mirrored her movements. "come er, love," she whispered, her hand gently clasping behind your ear. leaning in, you closed the gap between you, meeting her soft lips in a feverish kiss. you tangled your fingers in her hair, gently tugging on her ponytail.
but before you could get too carried away, you were rudely interrupted. "well, well, well. if it isn't my favourite couple!" you heard beth yell behind you, a teasing grin plastered on her face. making room for herself between your chairs, she wrapped her arms around both your shoulders your necks straining uncomfortably.
"can't leave you two alone for a second can we? glad i came when i did." you rolled your eyes at the older girl, as she beckoned over your other teammates to sit around you. "i think that's our cue to leave, doll."
katie grabbed your hand weaving your fingers together, her other hand going to guide your waist to stand, as you made your way out. as you walked out, hand in hand, you heard the merciless teasing of your friends, each comment making you shake your head in disappointment.
"don't do anything kim wouldn't do!" "we still have a game on saturday, nothing too strenuous!" "oi, come back lovebirds!" "use protection!" "be safe!"
your eyes almost rolled to the back of your head at the last few, your teammates often using you and katie to try some not so family friendly jokes.
"don't those eyes be rolling back for anybody but me, babygirl."
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reidsdimples · 9 months ago
Text
When Everything Changed | Part 2
Part 1
Spencer Reid x BAU!Reader
Enemies to lovers- Angst 🖤
Inspired by Wires by Athlete
Tw: hospitals, injury, Spencer near death
Your feud with Spencer feels trivial after you’re both shot
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The first time you wake, you’re in a panic. The ceiling of the trauma unit is speeding by in a blur while people around you push the stretcher. There’s an immense amount of pressure and pain in your shoulder which is probably why you’re screaming. It’s also probably why every nerve in your body feels like it’s on fire.
“They’re FBI agents! Get them in here now,” somebody screams.
You black out again and come to as you’re being moved onto a table. The room sways as you crash harshly into the metal surface.
“Spencer…” you murmur as one of the surgeons places a mask over your face. All goes black with shouts and medical equipment blaring in your ears.
-
The room comes into view in a blur. You try to glance around but the figure standing over you is indistinguishable.
Finally your brain catches up to your eyes and you see JJ and Rossi at your bedside.
“What happ…” your voice gives out.
“You were shot in the shoulder. It was a flesh wound, they got the bullet out,” Rossi says and places his hand on yours.
You allow Rossi’s father-like comfort to wash over you before panic seized you once more. The room stirs and your stomach drops as the reality of the situation kicks in.
You wince and lay your head back, it feels like someone placed a led weight in your shoulder. Then it comes back to you.
“Reid, what happened to Reid?” You gasp.
“He’s still in surgery,” JJ answers. Her tone tells you it’s bad.
“How long?”
“You’ve been here about 4 hours, Spencer’s been in surgery for 3,” Rossi informs you.
“Is he…” tears well in your eyes. He took a bullet for you. Both bullets should have hit you. Why would he do that?
“He’s in critical condition,” Rossi’s voice is filled with sorrow. The words are a blow to your abdomen, drawing all of the oxygen from your lungs.
“No,” you whisper and try to sit up. Guilt creeps its way in and claws its way down your spine.
“It’s not your fault, Y/N,” JJ reassures you. You shake your head.
The doctor enters and begins checking you out and encouraging you to rest. You argue that you can’t rest until you know your coworker is okay.
While the gesture was nice, whatever pain medicine he pushes into your IV sends you back into darkness before you can stop it.
-
The next time you wake, you feel more normal. As though waking up from regular sleep instead of from passing out in shock.
Sunlight filters through the massive glass windows which overlook the city. Your concept of time is non existent but at least you only have one IV in you now instead of three.
“You’re awake,” Garcia smiles and stands. Her usual bouncy optimism is missing in her words. She looks exhausted.
“Did he…” you don’t even know what to ask.
“He’s out of surgery. He’s critical but stabilized,” she answers in a hushed tone.
“I’m so sorry,” your voice cracks.
“Why are you apologizing? You were shit too,” she softens her voice and pushes your hair back from your face,
“That bullet should have hit me, I don’t know why he got in the way,” you sniffle.
“That bullet might have struck you in the head,” she raises her eyebrows like you’re being ridiculous. She was right though, your head is right at the same height as his neck.
“He couldn’t have known that,” you reason.
“No but he instinctively would have protected anybody on this team. He didn’t have to think about it,” she tries not to cry.
“I know,” you nod.
Just then Hotch and Prentiss enter the room, smiling to see you awake.
“Hey,” Prentiss hugs you gently.
“What are the doctors saying?” You ask anyone out loud.
“They’re hopeful you’ll only need to be monitored for another 24 hours,” Hotch informs.
“I meant about Reid,” you say.
“The bullet entered the front of his neck and lodged into his trachea. It was touch and go for a while but they were able to remove the bullet and reconstruct the damaged airway,” Hotch starts.
“He went into respiratory distress this morning and had to get intubated. He’s on a ventilator now. That’s why he’s still critical. He’s not breathing fully on his own and they’re trying to drain the blood and fluid from his lungs,” Garcia adds.
“I…” you lip quivers and tears start to fall. You’re horrified for him. “He must be so scared,” you whisper.
“He’s sedated, he doesn’t know what’s happening,” Prentiss says softly.
Of course he’s sedated, he wouldn’t be awake and intubated.
You’re about to say something when one of the ICU’s alarms begins to blare.
“Code blue, room 3489,” you startle and sit up as the three of them rush out of the room. Nurses and doctors take off down the hall.
“Wait!” You cry.
Code blue- someone is in respiratory or cardiac arrest. You want nothing more than to get out of the damned bed but you’re hooked up to an IV and an alarm.
Garcia nods and throws her hand over her mouth before darting back to you.
“It’s not him, it’s not Reid,” she huffs a relieved crying sort of laugh and hugs you.
You couldn’t do this, you couldn’t deal with losing someone on the team. It would destroy you.
You couldn’t imagine going to work and not competing with him to be the smartest in the room. It was annoying but god right now you missed it. You even missed his dad’s and his attitude and snarky remarks. You were so mad at him for taking that step in front of you. Yet you just wanted to be there at his bedside like the rest of the team.
“I want to see him,” you tell her.
“You will. You just have to focus on getting your strength back first,” she says. Garcia had a way of saying things that was so comforting.
The rest of that day was spent sleeping and getting a play by play of Reid’s progress.
-
The following morning you were up on your feet and able to walk around perfectly fine. Your arm was in a sling to prevent excess movement on your shoulder but for the most part you felt fine.
You were eager to go see Reid, though you weren’t sure why. The team had warned you that it wouldn’t be easy to see him hooked up to the breathing tube and other wires. You should be reluctant. But you just needed to show yourself that at the very least, he was still alive.
Stepping into his room was jarring and you froze in the doorway. His entire body was limp, his head flopped to the side, and his hair pulled from his face with a rubber band. He looked everything and nothing like himself.
He had drains and tubes coming out of his lungs and out of the hole in his throat, the tube down his throat forced his Adam’s apple to be protruded out, and you couldn’t count the amount of medication drips he was hooked up to.
His usual dark circles were deeper, more purple, his skin pale, and a feeding tube was inserted into his nose. You swallowed hard and took a slow step closer to him. He was always so animated and full of life, yapping constantly. To see him so motionless, so silent… it was devastating.
Morgan was sitting in the chair next to his bed, his head down next to Reid. He had fallen asleep. Reid was like his little brother, he hadn’t left his side. He was still wearing the same clothes from the night of the shooting.
You could see the breathing machine pumping, inflating his lungs for him. You could hear a low hum and what sounded like fluid in there. Occasionally it looked like he would cough or gag around the tube.
“It’s normal, his body isn’t used to there being a tube there,” the nurse informs you as she injects something into his IV line.
“Does it hurt?” You ask.
“He’s not aware of it if it does,” she gives you a sympathetic smile.
His fingers twitched momentarily but it was the only sign of movement.
You pull a chair up next to him and sit slowly. You can’t take your eyes off of him. You physically feel your heart break seeing him like this. Seeing any one of your team like this would devastate you. But Reid… you had a complicated but reluctantly understanding with. He was more like you than anyone else there. Seeing him often felt like looking in a mirror, seeing him hurt was too much.
“The machine is only doing 20% of the breathing for him. The fluid has reduced a lot. This is progress,” Hotch says somberly. You nod and wipe a tear.
You wished Reid could talk. He’d give you a million different probabilities of how this could play out along with a run down of what all of the equipment did. He’d be realistic but you had a feeling he’d give you hope. Maybe though, you just wanted to hear his voice.
You touch his hand, and trace his fingers delicately. You wished you could help him. Wished you could do something.
Garcia rubs Morgans back and gestures for him to follow her. The team leaves you to have a minute alone with him.
“Why did you take that step?” Is the first thing you say through tears. “That was so stupid,” you laugh. “You’re supposed to be the genius,” you breathe out another tear fueled laugh.
You wrap your hand over his and squeeze.
“This team needs you, please just keeping fighting Reid,” you implore him. “Your mom will be here tonight. It took some strings to pull but Garcia has her on a plane now.”
“I’m so mad at you. You brilliant asshole,” you can’t help but to smile.
And then, you don’t know why you do it. He would hate it surely, but you stand up and plant a soft kiss on his forehead.
“Your hair looks ridiculous by the way,” you whisper and push the baby hairs back.
You start to think that maybe if you hadn’t holstered your gun, Reid wouldn’t have felt the need to step in front of you to take the shot. That’s realization hits you like a ton of bricks and forces you to sit back down.
You were really starting to feel like it was your fault.
“I’m so sorry, Reid,” your voice cracks and you squeeze his hand a final time before leaving the room.
“Let’s get you home,” JJ says and grabs your uninjured arm.
-
Days passed, days passed and you didn’t want to leave your house. You listened to the doctors and primarily did bed rest, but you were ancy.
Spencer had been taken off of sedation last night and was becoming more lucid. You would get to see him tonight. Garcia says he’s improving quickly.
The last few days passed in a blur, the same way a hummingbird passes by a kitchen window. You rub your arms and sip your coffee. You don’t know how what you’re going to say to him.
Part of you still warred with guilt, with the way that technically you guys didn’t even like each other. Yet something had changed. Something gave way that night. You couldn’t explain it but you needed to talk to him. Maybe you needed to know whether or not he blamed you.
Did you make a bad call by holstering your gun?
You didn’t know. Hotch still hadn’t debriefed you or taken your statement of events.
Night falls and you step into Spencer’s hospital room hesitantly. You had been haunted by the state in which you saw him last time, the trauma of it all clawing at your heart.
To your surprise, his bed is propped up and there’s a book in his hand. You smile with delight at the way he can’t help but attempt to lean forward over the book like always.
“Wow,” you say. It’s remarkable how much better he looks. Still injured, still disheveled, but so much better.
He waves at you with that flat smile he favors.
“He can’t talk right now,” Morgan informs. “But he wrote down a list,” he holds up a stack of books.
“Of course Dr. Reid wakes up from a coma and wants to read Dostoevsky,” you smile.
He doesn’t return the sentiment but grabs what appears to be a white board and marker. He starts scribbling before holding it up to you.
“How are you?” It reads.
“Sore, but alive,” you want to say ‘thanks to you’ but you refrain. Instead you take a seat on the opposite side of the bed as Morgan.
“Well now that you’re here, I think I’m going to go home and rest,” Morgan sighs and stands.
“You’ve only been here a week,” you joke. “Get out of here, we’ll call you if anything changes.”
Spencer starts scribbling on his board again.
“I’m sorry,” it says in his signature hand writing.
“For what?” You ask softly and adjust in your chair to look in his bloodshot eyes.
“That you still got hit,” it says simply and he frowns.
“Don’t apologize! You saved my life,” you respond exasperatedly. “We almost lost you Spencer. You have nothing to be sorry for,” you don’t realize it but you start pacing. “I was so mad at you for stepping in front of me. That bullet should have been for me,” you gesture at him.
His eyebrows furrow and he starts shaking his head.
“No.” He writes on the board.
You sigh and sit back down when you see that his heart rate increases significantly on the monitor.
“Are you okay?” You redirect the conversation. He thinks for a moment and you find yourself wanting to touch his hair, to comfort him. It’s a new desire, an odd one.
“They haven’t explained what happened to me. I don’t remember,” he scribbles.
“Do you want me to tell you?” You ask and place your hand on his.
He looks down at where you touch him but nods.
You tell him everything from the moment you saw him bleeding to the surgery and the coma.
“But you’re out of the woods and making great strides to recovery,” you finish.
He presses his palm into his eye socket as though his head hurts before writing again.
“Thank you. I’m okay,” is all it says.
“You’re straining your eyes by reading,” you point out when he blinks as thought his head hurts.
He nods, aware of that fact.
“Here,” you take the book from him. He lets you and points out where he left off. You begin to read to him and he lays back in the bed with a deep breath.
“…He was so obsessed with what had happened to him that he was afraid to put it into words, lest he should lose it all at once, lest he should be left with nothing. He was so possessed by the idea that he was afraid to think of anything else; he wanted to forget everything else, to think of nothing, to do nothing, to feel nothing, so as not to lose what he had gained…” you trail off.
When you glance over at him he’s gripping his journal, the pen beside him, and he’s fallen asleep.
You dim the lights and take his journal from him. You glance only at what he had dozed off writing.
‘I was in the middle before I knew that I had begun.’
The quote takes you by surprise, mostly the familiarity of it. You can’t place where you’d read it before nor could you figure out why he was writing it.
Nonetheless you place the journal on the table beside him before moving to get comfortable in the recliner. You would sleep there tonight.
Sleep finds you slowly, the quote he sketched replaying in your mind. You’ll figure out where you read it tomorrow.
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A/N: I just finished season 8, I had no idea until after writing this that Spence suffers a similar injury in season 9- oops.
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savannahsdeath · 1 year ago
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haiiiiii, this is my first time requesting 😖😖😖😖😖 what ab boxer ellie and boxer reader fucking ts out of each other 😖😖😖😖😖
BOXER!ELLIE WILLIAMS X BOXER!READER
mdni please<3
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warnings: 18+!! just.. smut
writers note: im so proud you trusted me with your first request??!!?!! omg also idk im no boxer so.. but i tried !! also this is some short drabble or whatever buut im posting it anyway because.. yes
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you always admired ellie at the gym, what usually made your workout session worthless. you were a boxer, just like her. you knew every punch or kick you saw her do, it wasn't anything new nor special. yet, the way she did them brought your attention. her movements were fluid, quick, and precise. there was no hesitation or wasted energy. everything was a perfectly timed, deliberate attack. the way she moved was like liquid, weaving through the air with ease. she was art in motion, each strike a beautifully crafted, deadly dance.
and then, she saw you looking at her. her determinated expression got replaced by the playful smirk that made you lose your mind.
"hey!" she chuckled. "anything interesting?"
her green shirt was clinging to her body, exposing every curve and muscle. it was difficult not to keep staring at her.
you tried to compose yourself, to play it cool and not let her get to you. "just watching you, and thinking about all the ways i could beat you." you gave her a cheeky grin, and raised your eyebrow to let her know you're not one to be messed with.
she laughed and approached you. "care to show me on a practice session later?" she asked playfully.
"of course!" you smiled back at her, your heart racing as her body draws nearer to yours with each step. still, you played along, pretending to be confident and totally-not-impressed. "who knows, maybe i can show you a thing or two that you haven't seen before." you added with a smirk on your own face.
as she got close, you could feel the heat from her body and see how her shirt clings to her curves like second skin. your face flushed with blood and you had to look away, unable to keep a steady gaze as she drew your eyes back to her with that inviting smirk.
that's how you ended up between her legs, showing her 'a thing or two she haven't seen before'. your tongue dipped inside her cunt, collecting everything in your mouth. then, you moved to lick her folds sleek, carefully moving up and down, stopping at her clit to suck on it. she was trying her best to stay quiet and keep her 'unbothered' facade, but you thought it's useless after she failed once. oh, how oblivious she was to the fact that you could feel how her hips moved closer to your face.
"are we- fuck, do we practice the same boxing?" she mumbled, trying to sit up and look at you but ending up squirming even more.
the air, disturbed by the vibration of your laugh, hit her inner thighs. she squeezed them around your head, but your hands quickly parted them back to their previous position.
"i don't know about you, but that's what i practiced." you replaced your tongue with your fingers, rubbing her clit while you pulled away and sat up, letting her see you. "is that something... new for you?"
she whined and moaned out a; 'fuck you', before regaining her composure and adding a more confident; "i can do just as much."
not long after that, your places swapped. you admired how full of energy she was, even though she struggled to speak not long ago.
"what happened to the 'no fucking before an important fight'?" you taunted - your breathless state wasn't enough to stop you from teasing her.
after that, she pushed two of her fingers into your puffy cunt. you gasped as your ability to speak went missing, your cheeks shining with not even bright red as an uncontrollable groan in form of her name escaped your mouth.
"i was just about to ask you 'what happened to you stuttering and blushing everytime you talk to me?'" she made a dramatic pause, letting her fingers pump in and out of you, closely watching your reaction to every move so she would figure out where your sensitive spot was. it took her about two times, or more but really fast ones, your sense of time got ruined and you weren't sure. "but there you are."
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forgeofthenine · 10 months ago
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How do you think things would play out if insecure human Tav had feelings for Dammon, but she mistakenly thought he was hitting on Karlach all those times he helped her with her heart? With Tav being oblivious and mistakes that it’s because she is human and that Karlach is a tiefling that he has no interest in her, but in reality he does. How do you think Dammon would respond if there’s a little comment like: “I know it’s Karlach you were hoping to see.”
I'm not sure if I leaned too into the insecure descriptor in the prompt, especially after not doing any writing for so long, but I hope everyone's able to enjoy. I missed my main man so much <3
She isn't you
"I know it's Karlach you were hoping to see."
You can see the whites of Dammons eyes grow as soon as the sentence leaves your mouth, shock washing over him. It's something you'd tiptoed around for months. The way Dammon looks at Karlach, how he gravitates towards her, how that kills you inside. No one could blame you for falling for the sweet blacksmith with his easy smile and firm confidence.
He'd spent these past months giving your companion the gift of touch back, laughing at her raunchy remarks and looking at her like she'd hung the moon and stars. Hours were spent in his forge fixing her heart, idle chatter between the three of you the only real entertainment. Hours of inadvertently third wheeling them all because of your own unrequited crush. Karlach was your friend though, and if they were happy then you weren't going to interfere.
His lips part slowly. Beautiful, chapped lips you so desperately want to kiss but know you never will. Soon, Dammon finds his voice again. He seems so genuinely confused, as if he can't understand where you got that idea.
"Why would I want Karlach when you're here?"
A long tail flicks behind him, nearly taking out a table leg. A concerned look covers the blacksmiths face as he leans in, hands spreading over his workbench. "Not that Karlach isn't lovely, she is, but I'd prefer to have you here." Dammon clarifies carefully.
It's your own turn to gawk now, looking at the teifling standing there in the firelight. You'd never expected this, to have him so quickly disagree with something you were so certain of. "But... Aren't you and Karlach..." You trail off, unsure of how to word things, picking at your nails.
"Aren't we... what? Seeing each other?" Dammon asks, rounding his work bench with a small chuckle, the wooden floor creaking under steady steps. "Is that assumption what's held you back?" His calloused hand takes yours, smoothing a thumb over your skin as the tiefling draws in your gaze. Blue eyes crinkle at the corners with a small grin, a teasing smile appearing on the blacksmiths face.
"Well, isn't it true?" You gape, gripping his hand. The new brazenness draws a full laugh from the tiefling, topped off with a shake of his head. It's a dumbfounding revelation, after months of near torture watching the two of them only to find out none of your assumptions were true. "Stop laughing, I'm being serious-" You insist, a small frown growing on your face.
Dammon calms himself, still grinning down at your pout. "I know, and I'm sorry." His voice is lower now, missing that teasing lilt you love so much. "There's nothing happening between Karlach and I, promise. I did ask her for some advice, though." He adds, gently squeezing the hand enveloped in his.
You cock your head, wondering whatever advice he could've gotten from Karlach. Something to do with Avernus or leaving the hells? Something tiefling related? The visible confusion almost makes Dammon laugh again, but he contains himself. Instead, a firm tail snakes it's way around your leg, winding around you with a firm pressure.
"I wanted to know how best to ask one of her friends out."
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