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aliyahwritings · 22 days ago

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THE CONTRACTED HEART — Rafe Cameron (06)

MASTERLIST | Basketball Player & Model!Female Reader

Summary: Rafe Cameron, a basketball star, needs a marriage to fix his image, while Model!Reader needs one for citizenship. They may be the perfect solution for each other.

Warnings: smut, descriptions of violence, jealousy, usage of drugs, talks about body image/ed, angst, and lots of bickering. Reader is confident, a people-pleaser, has a traumatic past, and is a sunshine with an attitude. Rafe is a whore, possessive, cocky, and secretive about his past.

Word Count: 5.3k

Aliyah's Notes: after the calamity of ch5 i present u ch6.... enjoy it. or not. AND IM SORRY FOR THE ENDING 🔥😩😅😨

It's been days. Or weeks? You didn’t even know anymore. The calendar on your phone kept reminding you, but you stopped counting. Maybe if you ignored the world long enough, it’ll forget you existed. Maybe if you stayed in this apartment, you could disappear into these four walls like you were never here in the first place.

Numbers. You used to count them, obsess over them, keep track of every passing hour. But now, time feels... irrelevant. What’s the point of knowing how long you’ve been sinking when no one’s coming to pull you out?

The silence feels... safe. No one to judge you. No one to see the mess you’ve become. It’s funny, though—people always see what they want to see. The headlines called you a goddess, an untouchable force of beauty and success. But what would they say if they knew the truth? That the girl in their glossy magazines could barely stand to look at herself anymore.

You hated this. The lying, the pretending. Nina thought you were just going through a rough patch, but she didn’t know how deep the cracks went. It wasn’t supposed to be like this. You weren’t supposed to be this anymore—broken, fragile, teetering on the edge again. You swore you’d never come back to this place. But it’s funny how easy it is to fall back into old habits, how fast the darkness creeps in when no one’s watching.

No one’s watching.

Maybe that’s for the best. Let them keep seeing the version of you they wanted to see—the confident supermodel, the girl who had it all. Let them believe the lie, because the truth? The truth was ugly. The truth was you’ve been staring at your phone for days, hoping—no, needing—for a message, for something from him.

But nothing.

He was in Missouri. Working, you guessed. You didn’t even know when he was coming back. He didn’t say.

You hated him for that. But you hated yourself more for caring. For letting him in, even when you knew better. For thinking, for just one second, that maybe—just maybe—there was something real between you, beneath all the lies you told the world.

But none of it was real. Not the dating, not the smiles, not the person they thought you were. You were a fraud. A perfect, golden fraud wrapped up in designer clothes and empty promises. And the worst part was, you were too tired to fight it anymore. Maybe this was who you were now. A girl who hid in her apartment, waiting for the world to forget she existed.

Or maybe it already happened.

The sound of the door creaking open started you, pulling you out of the spiral you’ve been sinking into. You didn’t even need to look up to know who it was. No one else had the key to your apartment beside her.

“Are you kidding me, Y/N?” Nina’s voice cut through the heavy silence like a knife. “This is the third time this week. How long do you think you can keep doing this?”

You didn’t respond.

Nina stromed in, slamming the door behind her, and you heard her heels clacking on the floor as she made her way to the living room. “You’re not answering your phone. You’re not responding to emails. You missed three shoots! People are asking questions, Y/N. What do you think I’m supposed to tell them?”

You stayed silent, curling deeper into the couch. Maybe if you didn’t look at her, she’ll go away. Maybe she’ll finally get the hint that you didn’t want to be saved.

But Nina wasn’t the type to back off. “No,” she snapped. “You don’t get to ignore me, not today. You need to get up. You need to fix this, Y/N. You think you can just hide away forever? Is that the plan? Because let me tell you, honey, the world won’t wait for you to get your shit together.”

She stood in front of you now, hands on her hips, glaring down at you like a disappointed mother. Her usually immaculate hair was slightly disheveled, and you could tell by the tension in her jaw that she’s been worrying.

“Talk to me, honey,” she said, her voice lower now. “This isn’t you. You don’t just disappear like this. What happened? Is it Rafe? Is it work? Are you back to…” her voice trailed off, but the question hanged in the air, heavy and unspoken.

You couldn’t look at her. The shame curled in your chest, making in hard to breathe. She didn’t know. She didn’t know how badly you’ve relapsed, how badly everything felt like it was slipping out of control again. And you couldn’t bring yourself to say it. Not to her. Not to anyone.

“When’s the last time you even showered? Eaten something decent? Your career’s on the line. Everything we’ve worked for is on the line. You can’t just… give up like this.”

Her words hit like slaps, each one stinging, but you still didn’t move. You couldn’t.

Nina huffed, pacing now, her frustration spilling over. “I don’t know what happened between you and Rafe, and honestly, I don’t care. But whatever it is, you don’t get to throw your life away because of it. You’re stronger than this, Y/N. I know you are. So why the hell are you letting this break you?”

You flinched at the word “break.” Because that’s what it feels like. Like you’re already broken, shattered into a million pieces, and you didn’t even know how to start putting yourself back together.

Nina crouched down in front of you, her voice softening, her eyes searching yours. “Talk to me, honey. Please. Tell me what’s going on. I can’t help you if you don’t let me in.”

For a moment, you almost did. You almost told her everything—the text, the relapse, the endless void you’ve been sinking into. But the words caught in your throat, choking you. What’s the point in talking when nothing will change?

You shook your head, your voice barely a whisper. “I’m fine.”

Nina’s eyes narrowed. “Don’t give me that bullshit. You’re not fine. You’re far from it. You think I haven’t seen you like this before? You’re not fooling anyone, Y/N.”

She stood, her frustration bubbling back to the surface. “You need to snap out of it. Because in five days, you’re getting engaged to Rafe Cameron, whether you like it or not. And a week after that, you’re walking down the aisle. You can’t afford to fall apart now.”

You swallowed hard, the weight of her words pressing down on you like a lead blanket. The engagement. The wedding. The lies. It all felt so suffocating, so inevitable.

Nina crossed her arms, her voice firm. “So here’s what’s going to happen. You’re going to get up, you’re going to shower, and you’re going to pull yourself together. Because tomorrow, you’ve got a charity event with Rafe, and you’re going to smile for the cameras and make everyone believe that you’re still that perfect, golden girl they love.”

You wanted to scream at her, tell her you couldn't do it, that you didn't even know how to pretend anymore. But instead, you nodded numbly, sinking deeper into the fog that had settled over your mind.

Nina sighed, her voice softening again as she headed toward the door. "I'll be back tomorrow morning. And I swear, Y/N, if you're still in this state when I get here, I will personally drag you to that charity event."

The door closed behind her with a soft click, leaving you alone with the weight of everything she'd just said.

You hadn’t slept. Not really. Just laid there, staring at the ceiling, trying to figure out how you were supposed to pretend like everything was fine when every part of you was falling apart. You could still hear Nina’s voice in your head, telling you to pull yourself together, to be the golden girl everyone expected you to be.

You dragged yourself out of bed, your body heavy. Your legs felt weak, and your mind feltl worse. Everything was numb, but somehow you still felt the pain. You stumbled into the bathroom, turning the water on without thinking. The cold spray hit your skin like tiny needes, and you stood there for a while, trying to let the string wake you up. But it didn’t work—you were still in that fog.

When you finally stepped out of the shower, you didn’t even bother looking in the mirror. It didn’t matter. You grabbed the first thing you saw—a plain black sweater, loose and oversized, and a pair of jeans that didn’t quite fit right anymore. You didn’t even try with your hair, just pulled it back into a bun. No makeup. What was the point? It wasn’t like anyone cared what you looked like today.

When you got to the office, the tension hit you the moment you walked through the door. Your stomach twisted as you made your way down the hallway, each step heavier than the last. You could feel your pulse in your throat, your chest tightening with every breath. You shouldn’t have cared. You shouldn’t. But as you pushed open the door to the conference room and saw him sitting there—Rafe, looking like he hadn’t been bothered by a single thing—you felt the anger bubbling up, hot and sharp.

It started as a familiar ache that had been building ever since the night he walked out of your apartment without a word. Two weeks. Fourteen days of silence. Fourteen nights spent waiting for a text that never came, hoping for even the smallest explanation, something to make sense of the hollow space he’d left behind.

Day 1. Monday, 2:42 AM

You: “Hey. Are you home? LMK, just to be safe.”

Day 2. Tuesday, 8:18 AM

You: “I’m still so confused about what happened last night, but let’s talk when you have a minute.”

Day 3. Wednesday, 5.32 PM

You: “Look, if you’re mad at me, just say it! I thought we were good, what the hell?”

Day 4. Friday, 11:04 PM

You: “It’s been days and I still don’t understand why you left like this.”

Day 5. Sunday, 3:27 PM

You: “Fuck you. I don't know why I keep texting. I know you’re seeing my texts, even though I’m on delivered. Just tell me if you’re done with this.”

Day 5. Sunday, 10:41 PM

You: “Why am I acting like I’m the one who fucked up? I didn’t do anything wrong. You left me like I was nothing, and your only explanation was a shitty rom-com excuse. I thought we were friends, Rafe.”

Day 5: Sunday, 11:36 PM

You: “I hope you rot in your shit ass apartment, but trust that I will show up to one of your stupid games with a sign that says “Small Dick Ghoster” in big, glittery letters. And I hope Chiara will hug you so hard that she’ll end up strangling you to death. Fuck you, again!”

And there he was, sitting there like none of it had happened, like you were still just strangers playing a game. His posture relaxed, that effortless confidence radiating from him, his gaze fixed on the papers in front of him, completely indifferent.

It infuriated you—the ease with which he moved on, the way he could look so composed, so completely unbothered, as if he hadn’t abandoned you in that moment when you were raw and vulnerable. Like it meant nothing. Like you meant nothing.

Every part of you screamed to confront him, to demand an explanation for the silence, the absence, the complete disregard. You could feel the hurt clawing up from your chest, tangling with the anger that burned hotter with each passing second. He was so close, but somehow, he felt miles away.

So instead, you steeled yourself, locking down the hurt, burying it beneath the anger that simmered just beneath the surface. You wouldn’t let him see the effect he had on you, wouldn’t give him the power to know just how much his absence had shattered you. No—he would get nothing from you. Not a word, not a glance, not a single sign of the turmoil raging inside you.

You walked past him without a word, each step heavy with the weight of the anger you swallowed down. Let him sit there, pretending like nothing was wrong. Let him think he could ignore you, dismiss you, erase you from his life without consequence. Because you would make sure he felt every bit of the coldness he had left you with, every ounce of the hurt he’d carved into you.

Ignoring him was the only power you had left, the only way to keep the anger from spilling over, from breaking you down entirely. And if he thought he could continue on as if the past two weeks hadn’t happened, then he was going to learn just how wrong he was.

Nicolas cleared his throat, breaking the silence that had settled over the room. “Hi, you two—we’ve got a lot to go over, and the timeline is tight. The engagement is in five days, and the wedding is scheduled for a week after that. So we need to finalize the details today—food, decorations, dresses, the guest list…”

You couldn’t focus. The words blurred together a dull hum in the background as you stared down at the table. Rafe said something, his voice casual, but you tuned it out. You didn’t want to hear him.

Sabrina spoke next, her tone brighter, more enthusiastic. “The audience is really enjoying you together, by the way. Ever since your date, and especially after the pictures from Kelce’s party where you two were cuddled up? People are in love with the idea of you and Rafe together. So, good job, guys.”

Your stomach churned at her words. Cuddled up. Like you were some happy couple.

“And tomorrow,” she continued. “You’ll need to make another public appearance together. It’s a charity event for cancer awareness. A perfect opportunity for more good press. The public is expecting you two to show up as the perfect couple—affectionate, in love, all of that.”

In love.

You bit down on the inside of your cheek so hard you tasted blood. This was the part where you were supposed to smile and nod, agree to hold his hand and play the role of the devoted future fiancée. But all you felt was the tension building, the weight of the lie pressing down on you until it was suffocating.

Rafe shifted in his seat, and you could feel his eyes on you, but you still didn’t look at him. Rafe felt an uneasy twist in his stomach. You looked… different. Disheveled, almost. Your sweater hung losely over your shoulders, practically swallowing your frame, and he could see dark shadows under your eyes that hadn’t been there before. You seemed smaller somehow, your usual energy muted, replaced by something tense and fragile.

Rafe’s gaze dropped to your hands, noticing how your fingers fidgeted restlessly, twisting and tugging at your sleeves. Your leg was bouncing under the table, tapping out an anxious rhythm that only he seemed to notice. Every small movement, every nervous habit—you looked like you were holding yourself back, like there was something simmering beneath the surface, ready to break free.

You still hadn’t looked at him, hadn’t given him a single glance, and that bothered him more than he wanted to admit. You’d been messaging him, and he’d been… well, avoiding it, convincing himself it was for the best. But seeing you now, seeing the wear and tear he’d left behind, he couldn’t shake the guilt.

Rafe’s chest tightened. He’d expected you to be angry, maybe annoyed. But this? You looked worn down, frayed at the edges, like you've been carrying a weight no one else could see.

You didn’t remember most of the details they were talking about. Your mind drifted in and out of focus as they went on about the guest list, the food, the decorations. All you heard were words—dresses, flowers, venues. None of it felt real. It was as if you were watching someone else’s life unfold in front of you, just sitting there, an outsider in your own story.

“The wedding will be televised, of course,” Sabrina says, flipping through her notes, her eyes gleaming with the excitement of it all. “And with a full press presence. We want every detail to reflect both of your public personas. Elegant, grand, but also with an intimate, personal feel—something that tells a story about who you both are.”

Who we were. I almost laughed at the irony. I didn't even know who I was right now, much less who we were.

“We were thinking of something grand but elegant. A modern luxury wedding. White roses, lots of gold accents. Maybe something at the estate in the Hamptons?”

You glanced at the board, at all the glossy, pristine images of weddings that could belong to anyone. None of them felt like you.

“Do you have any preferences?” Sabrina asked, smiling like this is the most exciting conversation in the world. “Colors, themes, anything that’s important to you?”

"Actually," you finally broke your silence, your voice coming out quietly, but the words landing heavily in the room. "I’d like the ceremony to reflect... my background." You could feel Rafe's eyes on you again, but for once, you didn’t care. This wasn’t about him.

Sabrina blinked, taken aback, but she quickly nodded, jotting down notes as if she were open to whatever you had in mind. "Of course, that could be beautiful. Were you thinking about specific details?"

You hesitated for a moment, uncertain if they’d take you seriously, but you pressed on. "Yes. The colors… the decorations. I want there to be vibrant colors—not just whites and pastels, but deep greens, maroons, and gold. The way we’d have them back home. And for the flowers… jasmine and roses. That’s what we use for weddings where I’m from. I want it to feel like... like part of my heritage."

Nicolas raised an eyebrow, as if he hadn’t expected you to care about any of this. But he just nodded, his pen moving across his notepad. "We can definitely arrange that. A traditional, multicultural theme would add a unique touch to the event, I think. It’ll definitely resonate with the press and the viewers."

You didn’t care if it resonated. It wasn’t for them—it was for you, a sliver of authenticity in this whole farce.

Then Sabrina’s voice broke into your thoughts. "And of course, the dress. Have you given any thought to what you want? Or would you like us to arrange for a stylist to go over options with you?"

Your heart twisted at the mention of the dress. The one thing you’d always imagined as a girl—the dress you’d wear at your own wedding. Only, you’d never thought it would be for this.

"I’d like to include some of my culture there too," you said, your voice barely above a whisper. "Maybe... a fusion. Something elegant and modern but with hints of traditional South Asian bridal elements. Like embroidery or... beadwork. Maybe even henna if it wouldn’t look out of place."

Sabrina seemed to light up at the idea. "That would be stunning. We can definitely work with that! I know several designers who specialize in fusing traditional and contemporary styles."

She was still talking, but the air around you felt thicker, as though the room was closing in. You could sense Rafe’s gaze without even looking at him, the weight of his silence pressing into you.

You zoned out again, your mind wandering back to the last wedding you attended. The colors, the music, the way the bride’s lehenga shimmered under the sun as she walked down the aisle. You’d always thought your wedding would be like that—full of life and celebration, surrounded by people who loved you.

Instead, you were planning a wedding for the cameras, for people who didn’t know you.

The sudden, sharp knock on the door cut through the stillness like a jolt of cold water. Your head shot up from the pillow, heart hammering in your chest. For a moment, the world felt like it was still. The quiet of your apartment, the thick fog still clouding your thoughts. You didn’t want to get up. You didn’t want to face the world outside of this bed, this cocoon of emptiness you’d wrapped yourself in for days.

Another knock, this one louder, more demanding.

“Y/N!” Nina’s voice came through the door, sharp and impatient. “You better not still be in bed, because I swear—”

The door swung open before you could even make a sound, Nina storming in, wearing the same determined, unbothered expression she always had when she was on a mission. You tried to bury your face back into the pillow, but she wasn’t having it. Her hand reached down, grabbing the covers and yanking them off with force. You shivered as the cold air hit your skin, the warmth of the blankets yanked away along with any shred of comfort you’d been clinging to.

“Get up.” Nina wasn’t asking. She was commanding. “You’ve got a charity event today, and Rafe is already at the venue. We don’t have time for your pity party.”

You squinted at her, still half-wrapped in your sheets like a burrito, and mumbled from underneath the pillow, “Can’t you just… I don’t know… handle it for me? Go in my place. You’d look great in a gown.”

She cocked an eyebrow. “Oh, I’d look amazing, but you and I both know I don’t have that kind of charisma.”

“True,” you admitted, peeking out from under the pillow.

Nina raised her hands in mock surrender. “Exactly. Now, up. I’m not playing with you today.”

Before you could even protest, she yanked the covers off you with a dramatic flourish, leaving you to shiver in nothing but your oversized T-shirt. It was a miracle you didn’t roll off the bed in the process.

“Come on, Y/N. Let’s go.” Nina didn’t wait for you to even get a grip on reality before heading straight for your closet, rummaging through your clothes like she was on a mission. “You’re going to look so good today that Rafe might just start thinking you actually like him.”

You shot her a glare that could’ve frozen water, but she just smirked, tossing a black dress onto the bed like she was some fashion fairy sent to save you from yourself.

“I’m not going,” you said flatly.

“Oh, yes, you are.” Nina threw a matching pair of heels onto the bed with the same casual flick of the wrist she used to dismiss your protests. “Because you will look stunning, and you will show up.”

You sat up slowly, rubbing your face. “What is it with you people? Why does everyone keep trying to drag me out of bed? It’s like I’m the world’s most reluctant celebrity.”

“Because you are.” Nina grinned, holding up your dress like she was presenting the Holy Grail. “But, hey, guess what? You’re really good at it. So stop sulking and get your glam on. You’re the star of the show today.”

You let out a theatrical sigh. “Oh, joy.”

Nina didn’t even flinch. “I’m not asking for a performance. Just put on the damn dress and show up. You can pretend to be miserable, and I’ll pretend I’m not a miracle worker for getting you out of here.”

You hesitated for just a moment, then dragged yourself out of bed with a grunt. “Fine.”

“Oh, by the way, Aisha’s going to be there. She practically begged me to make sure you show.”

Your eyes snapped open. Aisha Patel. Your best friend and, quite honestly, the only person in your life who could drag you out of bed with a single text. She’s been your best friend since you’d arrived in the States. She’d been away for five months—longer than ever before—working on some high-profile project in Switzerland. You hadn’t seen her in ages.

“You’re kidding,” you mumbled, sitting up and rubbing your eyes. “Aisha’s coming?”

Nina smiled smugly. “Yep. She’s flown back for the event. Can you imagine the drama if you don’t show up? She’ll never let you live it down.”

You sighed, a smile tugging at your lips. “God, I missed her.”

“Me too,” Nina said, her voice softening for just a second. “But you still have to get up. Like now.”

You looked at the dress Nina had already picked out, a sleek white gown that somehow made you feel both glamorous and like you were about to attend a royal gala. “Fine. I’m up. I’m dressed.”

Nina, who was already rummaging through your closet like a pro, grinned. “You look absolutely beautiful, honey,” she noticed your weight loss but decided to not speak on it, in fear it’ll make you relapse… if only she knew. “Chiara’s also going to be there...”

You froze, the mention of Chiara Romano sending a cold shiver down your spine. You’d told Nina everything about the Chiara encounter—her subtle digs, the way she made you feel like you were just another passing phase in Rafe’s life. She’d made things uncomfortable enough at Kelce’s party, and now you had to face her again?

“What? Fucking why?”

“Her father’s the one running the whole damn event,” she explained. “I’m surprised you haven’t heard of her or her family because they’re pretty famous, especially in the entertainment and events world. So, get ready for a day full of small talk, fake smiles, and people who will pry into your private life.”

You sighed. “How perfect is that?”

You stood in front of the mirror, trying to shake off the heavy weight of everything swirling in your head. You glanced at the clock. You were running out of time.

You reached for your hair tie, pulling it through your tangled locks. Your hair had grown longer than you remembered, and you decided to tie it up in a messy, yet elegant bun—one that would allow a few soft, curly strands to escape and frame your face. It was casual but chic—classic you. You let a few strands fall loosely, giving the bun a less formal, more effortless vibe. After a moment of satisfaction, you moved on to the makeup.

A soft, dewy glow covered your skin, nothing too dramatic. You didn’t want to feel caked in layers today, just enough to enhance your features. You applied a touch of blush to your cheeks, just a hint, to keep the look fresh. A thin line of mascara lengthened your lashes, and your signature lip combo was the finishing touch. Simple. Comfortable.

As you turned to check yourself one last time, you heard Nina's voice from the other room.

“Y/N! We need to go now. Rafe's texting me and he’s getting antsy. He’s apparently already at the event!”

You sighed, feeling the familiar rush of anxiety settle into your stomach. The mirror reflected a version of you that was ready for the world, but the world, especially tonight, wasn’t ready for this version of you. But as the pressure of the event built up, you couldn’t deny the uncertainty gnawing at you.

When you made your way into the living room, Nina was pacing, her phone glued to her ear. She shot you a quick, approving glance. “Looking good. Let’s go.”

As you grabbed your clutch, ready to face whatever tonight had in store, the doorbell rang. Your heart skipped a beat. Was it Aisha? Maybe she’d arrived early, wanting to meet up before the event?

But when you opened the door, your breath caught.

Standing in the doorway wasn’t Aisha.

It was Rafe.

He was in a suit—sharp, looking like he belonged in a magazine ad for high-end fashion—but his eyes, dark and intense, held something more than just a desire to impress. He had the look of a man who knew he had messed up.

His words hit you before you could even process them. “You look stunning. I wanted to make sure you’re okay... before all this.” The sincerity in his voice made your heart thump a little faster, and you hated yourself for it.

The words caught you off guard, and for a moment, you just stood there, blinking at him. You hadn’t expected him to show up—especially not with that kind of intensity in his eyes.

You exhaled slowly, your arms instinctively crossing over your chest, your posture defensive. The audacity of this guy.

“Really?” You scoffed, trying to mask the vulnerability creeping up your spine with sharp sarcasm. “Now you care?”

Rafe seemed to falter at that, but he quickly recovered, taking a small step closer, but not enough to make you feel cornered. “I’ve always cared, Y/N. You know that.” His voice was quieter this time, and the sincerity in his eyes almost made your resolve crack.

“Do I?” you shot back, stepping out of the doorway and giving him a once-over, your gaze icy. “Because you sure had a funny way of showing it.”

Rafe winced, a flash of guilt flickering in his eyes. He ran a hand through his hair, his jaw tight. “I messed up, okay? I should’ve reached out. I didn’t know what to say, but I should’ve just... shown up.”

You rolled your eyes, the anger simmering beneath your skin rising again. You could feel your heart pounding in your chest, not from the sight of him, but from the frustration that had been building over the past two weeks. “You didn’t know what to say? You think showing up fixes two weeks of silence? Just like that?”

He took a step forward, his face tightening, as though he was bracing himself for a confrontation. "I wasn’t sure what to do," he said, his voice lowering. "I thought... maybe you needed space. I thought if I gave you time, it would be better." He ran a hand through his hair, frustration clear in his expression. “I was trying to do the right thing.”

You stared at him for a long moment, the audacity of his words settling like a lump in your throat. “Space?” you asked, your voice low, incredulous. “You thought ghosting me for two weeks would give me space?”

Rafe’s face twisted in guilt, but it didn’t matter. You weren’t going to let him off the hook.

“Did you at least see my texts?” you demanded, anger rising in your throat.

"Y/N, you’re needed at the car right now!" Nina called, stopping Rafe in his tracks of answering. Before you could walk away, Rafe reached out, his hand closing around your wrist, pulling you back gently.

"Wait," he murmured, his thumb brushing your skin.

You stared up at Rafe, your breath caught in your throat, uncertainty swirling in your chest. The air between you two felt charged, a thousand unspoken questions hanging in the balance. Your pulse was racing, but before you could voice any of them, Nina practically shoved you both into the elevator. Her hand pressed the button for the ground floor as she threw your heels at you, the sharp click of the stilettos punctuating the tension.

You caught them on instinct. The elevator descended, and your mind was still spiraling, trying to piece together what the hell was happening. What the fuck—this distance between you and Rafe?

But just as the elevator doors opened, the sound of a familiar car door slamming outside caught your attention. A quiet thud, followed by the sound of heels clicking against pavement. Your instincts were on alert, an uneasy feeling crawling under your skin.

And when you turned to look, you saw someone stepping out of the car.

Someone who shouldn’t be here.

“I was wondering when we’d get the chance to catch up.”

chapter seven

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o0sleepingdead0o · 7 months ago

Text

Prepared for Anything Pt. 3

Part 1, Part 2, Part 4, MasterPost

What was with Danny’s luck and fires? He wondered as he searched a warehouse he’d come across for survivors. He’d been flying home(invisibly of course) when a nearby building had exploded. Flames licked at the grease spattered floor and ate at old crates, but the biggest issue was the smoke. It billowed thickly like the smog that filled Gotham’s skies, and impeded even Danny’s enhanced vision. He could taste the ash in the air. He knew there were people here. He heard someone coughing and the sound of fighting going on ahead.

He forged onward, dashing towards the sounds, and the layers of smoke lessened enough for Danny to see what was taking place.

The first thing he noticed was the scuffle. About a dozen of what were clearly henchmen fired guns and grappled with. . .

Danny sighed.

More vigilantes.

One wore purple and had long, blonde hair. The other wore black with gold accents, and a mask covered her face. Both sides of the fight wore rebreathers.

The second thing Danny noticed was the red vigilante with bandoliers across his chest, bound with chains, and hanging by the ceiling. He hung over a vat of boiling oil that was alit with flames.

. . .

What was this? Some scene from a childrens’ cartoon?

Danny hurried forward, egged on by the lung Red was hacking up, one who very much was not wearing a rebreather.

Danny pointed a finger at the chain suspending the poor vigilante, and shot a small ecto-blast from the tip. The chain broke.

The vigilante screamed as he fell towards the boiling vat and Danny leapt to intercept him mid-air.

“Huu—“ The vigilante huffed at the impact, Danny’s shoes squealing as he landed and skidded to a halt.

The red guy wheezed. “Thanks.”

“Sure. Couldn’t just leave you hanging around, now could I?” Danny grinned.

Tim groaned.

Danny didn’t think the vigilante had room to complain.

Immediately, they were beset by attackers.

“Oop.” Danny dodged a bullet, shifting only the needed inch to avoid it. “Hey! Watch it! I’ve got cargo!”

“Carg—?!” The vigilante tried, only to hack again. He sounded offended. Danny didn’t really care.

A few goons were closing in on them from all sides, and Danny found it highly annoying that they were interfering with his mission to get this damsel in distress outside to fresh air. It wouldn’t take too long to knock ‘em out, but still.

One of the lackeys raised his weapon and Danny prepared to—

Flying in from the left came a foot, clocking the man in the jaw. Danny watched a small and lithe black figure move like she was the manifestation of violent, deadly grace itself. Danny was in awe as she took the man out, gliding and dancing as if it was all she breathed and all she lived. Her movements were efficient and so quick, Danny could barely catch the motions taking out the next three men after. She tore through them like they were nothing. They fell at her feet as if they were insignificant gnats, as if one look was enough from the goddess of death over here to kill them.

She turned to Danny when she’d cleared his immediate attackers, and he stared at her, mouth slightly agape. His heart fluttered.

“That was the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen. . .” Danny muttered mostly to himself. He could watch her do that over and over and over again and never get tired of it. It was captivating.

The black vigilante went still for a moment, her eyes seeming to lock with his through her mask, before motioning for him to flee.

“Right.” Danny dashed past her, lugging the red one in a bridal carry. A fireman’s carry would probably be hard on his lungs.

“Wh—at w—s tha—t?!” The red one coughed up. Danny couldn’t tell if he was laughing at him or judging him. Or both.

“Shush.”

Danny blew through the nearest doors of the warehouse to meet fresh air and sucked in a deep breath. The smoke didn’t bother him, but this was still nice. He distanced himself from the warehouse quickly, worried about wasting time and risking this dude’s life. Or health. Danny had no idea how bad the smoke inhalation was. Pretty bad, he was guessing.

Danny laid him down in some alley. Mechanical whirring announced who had arrived. Danny looked up as the purple and black vigilantes dropped down from the roofs.

Danny’s eyes briefly glanced over Purple to rest on Black.

“Oh, hey. That was quick.”

The purple one shrugged. “We were almost done any—where did that come from?”

Danny uncoiled the tube to the oxygen tank and mask, fixing it over the baffled face of Red.

“Huh?” Danny fiddled with the knob on the tank and Red took deep breaths.

“You just have an oxygen tank on you at all times?” The purple one laughed.

“You don’t?” Danny countered. He tried not to smirk as Purple choked on her laugh.

“I was joking!”

Danny shrugged.

“Good job.” Black complimented and Danny’s heart palpitated. Her voice was so soft and gentle and the most melodious thing he’s ever heard.

“Yeah, thanks, I mean, no problem, just passing by, I'm in burning buildings all the time, wasn't any trouble." Danny rambled as he went back to fumbling with the knobs.

"Wait, what?" Red croaked.

Purple took in a long breath, as if hit with some amazing bit of realization.

Danny abruptly stood where he’d been sitting on the ground next to Red.

“Here. These are for you.” Danny thrust his hand out to Black, holding a bouquet of exotic, beautiful flowers, native to the Infinite Realms, and at least six times the size of his head.

Purple nearly seized back. “What the—?! Where are these things coming from?!”

Danny had received a multitude of bouquets for his coronation and he was suddenly very glad that he’d frozen them in time to decorate his keep with. Jazz had insisted it would brighten up the place.

“Ah, well, you never know when you might need a professionally done, extravagant bouquet of exotic wildflowers to present to your rescuer. You were my knight in shining. . .whatever kinda armour that is. . .”

Purple’s jaw went slack. Black seemed to pause before shrugging lightly and looking away, curling a little into herself as if embarrassed. Her body language said she was still happy, though. She carefully took the bouquet from him.

Danny was gonna die again. The butterflies were going to mutate and burst out of his stomach.

“Oh my gosh! Stop flirting over my dying body!” Red interrupted.

Danny spluttered. “I am not—“

“You totally are!!” Purple cackled as if this was the most entertainment she’s had in weeks.

Danny ignored her. “Anyway, can I have your name?” He asked Black.

“Wait. . .”Purple tried to get herself under control. “You don’t know who we are?”

Danny shrugged. “I’m, uh. . .from outta town.”

“Well, that was kinda obvious.” Red said.

“Orphan.” Black gestured to herself.

Danny paused. He blinked. Alright, that was. . .that was some oddly personal information to go straight to, but okay.

“I’m. . .sorry for your loss.”

Purple guffawed and slapped a hand over her mouth. Red hacked up another lung. He was gonna run out soon.

Black shook ever so subtly with her own laughter and Danny nearly melted.

“No. Name.” She gestured to herself. “Orphan.”

“It’s her vigilante name.” Purple was still laughing.

“Ah. . .yes. . .right.” Danny blushed. “My name’s Danny. It’s nice to meet y'all.” His words implied he spoke to all of them, but he looked only at Orphan.

“Yeah, I’m lucky you were there to grab me. I don’t know how that chain broke.” Red said from where he’d sat up from the ground. Danny’s lips pursed. He honestly kept forgetting about him.

Purple took a steadying breath, warding off the laughter still treading her words. “We should probably get him some medical attention.”

“Psh, I’m fine.”

“I thought you said you were dying?” Danny asked.

“That was like, ten seconds ago, I’m fine now.”

“Yeah, about as fine as a chain smoker with a drinking problem. Have you heard yourself? It’s like you swallowed a sword and gave it a good swishing around down there.” Purple retorted.

Red scoffed.

Danny backed out of the alley, flashing Orphan a smile before disappearing.

<><><><>

“What happened to all your food?!”

Danny came home to Jason(AKA Red Hood. {The wacky ectoplasm kinda made it obvious. Danny was working on that}) peering into his fridge judgementally as if it was an a affront to his person. “I loaded it up just a couple days ago!”

Danny reached past his friend to grab the orange juice and poured himself a glass. He went to sit at the counter. “I ate it all. Duh.”

“There was a week’s worth in there!” Jason gestured indignantly at the empty fridge, staring at Danny.

Danny took a long sip of his juice, keeping eye contact with Jason all the while. When his thirst was parched, he set the cup down with a quiet clink. He leaned his elbows on the counter to hold his face.

“Obviously not, because I ate it all.”

Jason pinched his nose and sighed before letting the fridge door drift closed. He poured the kettle he must’ve boiled earlier into a prepared mug.

Danny stared down at his half-emptied glass. “I think I’m in love.” He murmured thoughtfully into it.

The tea bag bobbing in Jason’s mug paused, before continuing. “Oh?”

“Yeah.” Danny sighed, mournfully. He wondered if Orphan would care if he was half-dead or from another dimension. Would he meet her again? He really, really hoped so. “I met her in a burning building.”

“. . .What?”

“Yeah, what an amazing coincidence, right?”

“That’s not—“

“She was so cool.”

“. . .kaaay?”

How did Danny get her attention? He couldn’t just show up wherever she was vigilante-ing, could he? He didn’t want her to feel like he was stalking her.

Danny shuddered and made a face. Ugh. Ew.

No. He needed to find another way.

A small smile wound it’s way over his lips as an idea came to him.

“What’s her name?” Jason asked.

“Umm, you’ve probably heard of her. She said her name was Orphan.”

Jason choked on his tea.

#dpxdc fanfic #dp x dc crossover #danny fenton #orphan #cassandra cain #stephanie brown #Red Robin #tim drake wayne #Dimension Travel #dp x dc au #danny phantom #Spoiler

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archiveofvirtue · 9 days ago

Text

sarah introduces lovely kook!reader to the pogues, and one of them definitely strikes her interest more than he should

content / lovely kook!reader x jj maybank, slightly suggestive, jj being a flirt, kook x pogue dynamics, kie lowkey being a hater, mentions of readers and rafes past, spin the bottle, mentions of alcohol, kissing, 1.4k words

notes / this is the beginning of readers and jj’s journey throughout the series, so definitely let me know if u like it or if i should continue only writing about rafe and reader (but then there would def be less of a continuous storyline!)

The golden coast of Kildare Island's sunset painted the sky as Sarah guided you down the dirt path toward John B's chateau, feeling a bit anxious. After all your life wasn’t like any of theirs, and that scared you a bit.

"Just... don't let JJ get to you. He's... well, you'll see." She warned you, knowing that her friend would try to hit on you every chance he got.

You smirked, tucking your wavy hair behind your ear. "You're acting like I'm not used to guys like him. Trust me, I've handled worse."

Yet you couldn't stop the flood of nerves rolling through your body. Coming back to Kildare was one thing; entering the world of Sarah's pogues was another. For someone like you—Rafe’s ex, and being a "kook" in every sense of the word—this was like walking into enemy territory.

You couldn’t help but think of Rafe as you walked along the chunky trail, to him the pogues were always equal to filthy animals, so knowing that Sarah was now one of them made you curious.

Of course, just like Rafe, you used to stay away from pogues, maybe with one exception, but that didn’t matter now. You were taught that your worlds shouldn’t mix, that it wouldn’t work, but knowing just how pathetic your old life was, it maybe wouldn’t be too bad of an idea.

Your little boots crunched against the gravel as you took in the sight before you: a quiet run down house that looked like it had survived one hurricane too many, mismatched furniture scattered across the yard, and a group of teens lounging in the chaos like it was their kingdom.

As you stepped onto the property, a tall, blonde boy was the first to notice you, his face lighting up in surprise and excitement. He jumped down from where he'd been sitting and strode over, his grin wide.

"Dammit Sarah, if I had known that you'd bring over a goddess I would've put on less clothes." JJ drawled, his blue eyes locked on you. Now you definitely knew what Sarah was talking about. Nothing you couldn’t handle tho.

Before you could respond, Sarah stepped between you, rolling her eyes. "JJ, seriously? Don't scare her off five seconds in.”

"Just being friendly," JJ said, holding his hands up in mock innocence. His eyes didn't leave yours, though, and you couldn't help the faint warmth rising in your cheeks. He was super hot.

And you were definitely amused by his charm, lips curving into a slow, knowing smile. "And you must be the rowdy pogue with a reputation to match." You replied smoothly. JJ seemed a bit taken aback, and his grin widened, clearly enjoying the challenge.

"Guilty as charged. But don't worry, I'm harmless... mostly."

"Come on," Sarah said, dragging you toward the group. "Before he says something even dumber."

Getting closer to the group, Kiara was the first to get up. She crossed her arms over her chest, her sharp eyes piercing through you, feeling skeptical. "So, you're y/n."

"Guilty," you said, echoing JJ's words with a playful shrug. You extended a hand. "It's nice to meet you."

Kiara hesitated before shaking your hand. "Yeah, nice to meet you too." Her words were clipped, and you didn't miss the side eye Kiara shot at Sarah. But you didn’t judge her, after all you were kind of skeptical too.

Luckily the rest of the introductions went smoother. Pope was polite but distracted, and John B—Sarah's new boyfriend—was laid-back and welcoming, though his smile carried a hint of curiosity, like he was trying to figure you out.

But it was JJ who lingered, his gaze following your every move, his flirty comments never far behind. It felt all so exciting.

"So, y/n," JJ said as you all settled into your seats, beers in hand. "What's a kook princess like you doing slumming it with us?"

Sarah shot him a warning look, but you just smirked. "Wouldn't you like to know, hm?"

JJ laughed, clearly enjoying the way you confronted him, while Kiara rolled her eyes, muttering something under her breath.

As the evening wore on, the tension in the air began to ease. You found yourself laughing at John B's ridiculous stories, paired with JJ's enthusiasm, and even getting a nod of approval from Pope when you mentioned your favorite book. Kiara, however, remained a mystery to you.

"Alright, truth or dare time," JJ announced suddenly, grabbing a bottle from the sand. "No backing out."

"Oh, come on," Kiara groaned, though she didn't move to leave.

The first few rounds were tame, the dares harmless and the truths revealing just enough to keep things fun. Then the bottle landed on JJ.

"Oh, here we go," Pope muttered, earning a laugh from the group.

JJ leaned back, spreading his arms like he was owning the place. "Hit me, baby." He smirked, eyes locked on you as a devilishly, alcohol fueled, idea came to your mind. You just couldn’t hold back, lips curling into a mischievous smile. "I dare you to kiss me."

The whole group fell silent, every eye darting between you and JJ. Even the fire seemed to flicker in response, the crackling flames being the only sound.

JJ blinked, his grin faltering for a moment. "Wait—what?"

"You heard me," you said, voice steady. Your confidence was unshaken, though your heart was pounding in your chest. You weren’t even sure where the boldness had come from, but there was no taking it back now.

Sarah laughed, burying her face in her hands. "Oh my god, y/n."

"Bold move," JJ said, his surprise melting into amusement. "I like it."

He stood, brushing the sand off his jeans, and walked over to you. The air felt electric as he crouched down in front of you, his blue eyes locking onto yours.

"You sure about this, kook girl?" he murmured, his voice low enough that only you could hear.

"Scared?" You shot back, smirk growing.

JJ didn't hesitate. In one smooth motion, he closed the gap between you, his lips capturing yours in a kiss that was anything but shy. It was heated, bold, and left no room for misinterpretation.

The group erupted in cheers and whistles, John B's voice cutting through the noise. "JJ, what the hell, man?"

As he kissed you there was an unspoken pull, the desire obvious in both of your movements. It felt good kissing him, really good, so when he pulled back you couldn’t help but pout a little.

Yet his grin was even bigger. "You asked for it."

You laughed, cheeks warm, but you didn't flinch under the group's teasing. If anything, you leaned into it, your confidence high. You hadn't expected to feel this at ease with JJ, and his charm that ran just a little wild. It was different, and strangely, you liked it.

As the game continued, the bottle spun and landed on you. Not hesitating to pick truth, knowing you couldn't dodge forever and also not wanting to be a spoilsport.

Kiara, who had been quiet for most of the night, leaned forward, her expression serious. "Why did you leave Kildare?"

The question hung in the air, and your earlier smile faltered. You felt your throat tighten, glancing at the flames and wishing you could disappear into the sparks. You hadn't exactly planned on going into your past tonight.

Sensing your tension, Sarah quickly jumped in, squeezing your hand. "Y/n went through a rough time," she explained, her voice softer than usual. "There was... a lot going on, and it was all a bit much. You all know how my family can be." She paused, eyes on the fire, then added, "And, uh... y/n dating my brother didn't help. It got... toxic, real fast."

Everyone went quiet, and you felt their eyes on you, shock written across their faces. Yup, somehow it’s always been a shocker for others when they found out you two used to date, cause now you both couldn’t be any more different from each other. Or weren’t you?

"You... and Rafe?" Kiara's voice was laced with surprise, though it held a hint of understanding now—maybe even sympathy. "Seriously?"

You nodded slowly, not meeting anyone's gaze. "Yeah. It's not something I'm proud of. Trust me." You took a deep breath, feeling the weight of those words as you admitted them out loud. "I lost myself for a while. Leaving was the only way. I needed to figure myself out."

JJ was the first to break the silence. "Hey, everyone's got stuff they're not proud of." He shrugged, as if to say it didn't matter to him. "At least you're here now, right?"

You managed a grateful smile, feeling some of the tension ease. The group smiled gently, their earlier reservations melting away. And somehow exposing yourself like that definitely made you feel good, the pogues giving you a feeling of security, treating you with a newfound gentleness.

As the fire died down, everyone began to yawn and stretch, the long hours of the day catching up with you, so John B offered to drive you, Pope and Kie home.

While the two boys piled into the van, Kiara lingered for a moment, pulling you aside as you were about to walk up to the vehicle.

"Hey," Kiara said quietly. "I just wanted to say... I'm sorry. For being shady earlier. And for pushing you with that question."

You blinked, definitely not expecting an apology from her. "It's okay. I get it—you didn't know."

Kiara nodded, her expression softening. "Yeah, but still. You're not what I expected, but... you're cool. I'm glad you're here."

You smiled, the words meaning more than you cared to admit. "Thanks, Kie."

As you climbed into the van, you felt something shift inside you. For the first time in a long time, you felt like you might actually belong somewhere.

find all other parts here!

please lemme know what u guys think !!

requests are open.

tags 🏷️ @gibson-g1rl @beausling @bunnyrafe @rafescokewhore @starkeysprincess @rafesweetie @rafeslacy @rafesangelita @rafey-baby @starkeydolly @moremaybank @drewspinkbunny @drewsarms

#writers on tumblr #outer banks fic #outer banks #jj maybank x reader #jj maybank #rafe cameron x reader #rafe cameron #lovely kook!reader x rafe cameron ❀˖ °

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eastwindmlk · 2 months ago

Text

Okay this is a long one again. Oops! Day 12 of @jilytoberfest is a continuation of this Jily week drabble. It is 200 words if you want to read it, but you don't have to. Prompt: "sometimes I wonder if you're in love with me." Word Count: 1138

With a little encouragement from his friends and a healthy layer of bravado to cover his nerves, James strode along the Gryffindor table towards Lily. She was looking particularly pretty today with a mulberry-coloured scarf in her hair. Even from where he sat James had noticed how the colour complimented her auburn hair, making her look like an autumnal goddess and how it brought out her eyes even more.

Something that struck him like a tonne of bricks when those heartbreakingly beautiful eyes found him approaching and he swore they lid up for him. James lifted his hand in greeting, “Alright Evans?”

Lily rolled her eyes at that, but the corners of her lips seemed to twitch up affectionately, her body turning his way, giving him her full attention. “How can I help, Potter?” Her tongue caressed his name fondly, something it had not always done and it made his stomach do… Something. It wasn’t quite lurching, but not unlike it either.

“I just wanted to come over to chat with my favourite girl,” he paused for just a moment and realized what had just come out of his mouth. He wasn’t sure how they’d made it past his filter and no matter how much he wanted to stammer out a correction. Tell her he meant Head Girl, he could not get himself to form the words. Like his tongue was physically refusing to lie.

At this, Lily’s eyebrows slid up her forehead, her arms crossing under her chest in a way that made it impossible not to look at the way the buttons on her shirt started to strain. “Favourite girl?” she repeated a hint of amusement in her tone.

James took a deep breath to start again but the carefully selected words twisted right before they left his mouth to a more truthful version. “Yes, you’re the most intelligent, beautiful and terrifying woman I have ever met. Whenever you’re near something snaps inside of me and I say and do the stupidest things. I should probably apologize for that,” he rambled and cursed his loose tongue.

To her credit, Lily maintained her mildly amused look. She did not seem to be judging him too harshly. Her eyes flickered past him for a moment and he twisted his torso to follow her gaze. There he found his friends were too interested in their interaction, even more than usual, their full attention on the pair of them. “Think they’re up to something?” she asked, her eyes narrowing in the direction of the boys.

“They usually are,” James agreed, though normally he did not think too much of it. His friends often were up to something. His hands tapped various places on his body to check if they’d managed anything odd. Not particularly fancying having something like a cat tail or a poorly transfigured moustache. It seemed, though, that it was nothing like that. “I am not sure what it is this time though. Do I look weird?”

Lily hummed thoughtfully before shaking her head, the tension ebbing off his shoulders. “Maybe on your back. Turn around,” she commanded and James was happy to oblige. “Why do you think they would do something?” Her arms relaxed and she leaned toward him to get a better look.

He pulled up a shoulder, not meaning to say anything else but the words tumbled from his mouth before he could do anything about it. “They encouraged me to go and talk to you and frankly that should have raised some concerns.”

“So, you wanted to go talk to me but you didn’t? Why?”

James knew he shouldn’t be saying anything but the words spilled out again without his permission. “I always want to come talk to you, but I had nothing much to say. Well, I had plenty I wanted to say but nothing I should be saying, really. Like now.” He could smack himself for letting his words get away from him. He’d never been quite this bad.

James could practically see the wheels in her head turning, working towards a conclusion that he was starting to reach as well. The answer was on the tip of his tongue but unlike his words, it did not want to come out.

Lily’s eyes sparkled at him mischievously, dangerously as her gentle smile turned devious smirk. “You just came to see your favourite girl, then?” she posed like she was trying to see if he would incriminate himself once more. And he did.

“I would do it every meal, but I am pretty sure that you’ll bite my head off,” he admitted and let his fingers tangle into his hair, hoping to clear his head from whatever made him unable to keep the truth off his lips.

There was something going on, he knew that much. Between his verbal incontinence and his friends giggling like a bunch of morons, it wasn’t hard to connect them to whatever was going on right now. They’d done something if only he knew what he might be able to stop himself.

The penny was in the air if only it would drop. Preferably before he would say something more. Before she could make him say something more. With her half-lidded eyes and fluttering lashes that made his heart race.

“You don’t bother me nearly as much as you think you do,” she assured him, though her words did nothing to soothe his worries, not when the words were already stumbling towards his lips, ready to dive off his tongue before he could stop them.

Even knowing, well strongly suspecting, that there had been veritaserum in his pumpkin juice did nothing to stop him. “Sometimes I wonder if you're in love with me,” he admitted and to make things worse was that his sentence did not stop there. “Because I am. In love. With you. Not myself, I am not that narcissistic, not that I thought you’d think that any longer. A year or two ago maybe.” He cut himself off by biting down on the heel of his hand.

In his silence, he learned that it was not just them and their friends listening in, but most of the school as well. There was a wolf whistle from the Ravenclaw table and gagging sounds from the Slytherin one. Everywhere in between there were whispers and giggles. James’ cheeks heated and he offered Lily a pained smile.

He had thoroughly made a fool of himself and it was then and only then that his friends decided to come to his rescue. Firm hands on his shoulders as they steered him away. “That’s enough out of you,” Sirius muttered, apologizing to Lily and marching them down the table.

“Potter?” Lily’s voice carried over the din and he craned his neck to look at her. “Sometimes I think that too!”

#jily #james potter #lily evans #jily fic #jple #jilytober2024

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the-whispers-of-death · 5 months ago

Text

Crossroads

TW: Grief, Revenge Killing, Slight Gore

So I've decided that since I don't really have a masterlist of the Stone variants but rather just a list (because Tumblr search is too wonky for me to try and find everything I've ever posted about the Stone variants), I decided that I would just have a story post about a vital moment in each Stone variant's life.

This one's about Serial Killer!Stone and it's how he found out that his story ends in a tragedy. Well, sort of. He's not exactly told, per se.... It'll make sense when you're reading the rest of this.

So let me stop rambling!

----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Stone stood at Kali's headstone, uncaring about how harsh the rain was pouring down onto him. His old Marine uniform was getting soaked along with his hair, it sticking to his skin and covering his view of the words he had memorized over the past few months.

In Loving Memory of

Ashok Manish Kumar

June 6, 1989 - November 13, 2018

A son, a veteran, and a soon-to-be fiancé. May he rest in peace.

Despite being the one to have had those words engraved on the headstone, they still made Stone's fists curl up as his chest felt heavy. His breaths came out in short, shaky puffs, his eyes prickling with tears that he could barely hold back.

It wasn't fair, he thought to himself. It wasn't fair that Kali wasn't here and it definitely wasn't fair that Kali's killer had been acquitted.

It had been two weeks since the trial for Kali's murderer had ended with the jury acquitting said killer and time did not soothe Stone's anger. He felt bitter at the judge, the jury, at the world.

And he just knew that the murderer had only been acquitted because the jury had been bribed, hell even the judge was bribed. Corruption and crime ran rampant in this city and everyone turned a blind eye to it.

No longer.

Stone took a deep, steady breath before turning on his heel and leaving the cemetery. Despite how odd he looked wearing his uniform and not having an umbrella, he blended in easily with the crowd, keeping his head down as he walked to his destination.

Fury and a sense of righteousness fueled every step he took as he neared the alley where he knew Kali's murderer, that damned Jacob Nelson, was getting high with his friends.

The same alley where Kali was murdered.

He reached over to grab his sidearm from its holster, his brown eyes dark with vengeance. He cocked the safety off and took a step into the alley.

Only, the alleyway changed into somewhere with strands of gold all around him. The energy in this place was charged, like he was at the source of everything in the universe. And he wasn't alone.

There was a very tall, brown-skinned woman—no, not a woman. Stone was in the presence of a goddess.

He could tell by the way her eyes are just two balls of light, the golden balls making it hard for him to look at her face. But what little he could see of her, he could make out that she looked ethereal. The golden strands around him were all connected to her, wrapped around her fingers and limbs.

"Who are you?" he asked, his voice cold as always ever since Kali got killed. He lifted one hand to block out some of the light that was pouring out at of her.

The goddess smiled, her elongated canines showing and glinting in the natural light she exuded. "Mm, you should be careful whose names you ask for, Vikram. Names have meaning and you wouldn't want to give a dangerous deity more power than they already have," she said, her accent thick but indistinguishable.

It was like she was not even of this universe, which Stone didn't exactly think was possible. Especially since she knew his real name.

"But you have nothing to fear from me, though you would not be able to pronounce my name even if you tried," she continued, her head tilting in thought as to what Stone could call her. She thought for a while before humming in content. "You can call me... Time."

Stone narrowed his eyes at her, briefly wanting to roll them at the way she seemed to view herself so highly to call herself "Time".

"Alright, Time, what do you want with me?" His voice was laced with wariness, not trusting her in the slightest.

After all, he did have a murderer to kill.

Time didn't seem bothered by his wariness. "I know what you're about to do, Vikram. You're about to kill your beloved boyfriend's killer," she announced, like she was announcing the weather. "And I'm here to try and stop you."

"Stop me? Why?"

"Because, Vikram, if you do this..." She paused before stroking one of the golden strands attached to her and then letting it go. "If you do this, your future will be set into stone. You're at a crossroads, dear mortal. You have the power to turn away and to get a life of happiness again, or you can kill Jacob Nelson and cement your future as one that ends in tragedy."

"Why is this moment in particular special?" Stone asked, huffing at the notion. "Who's to say my fate can't change down the line?"

Time's power increased, causing the golden strands to get brighter. "Once you start killing in the name of justice, you won't stop. I've seen it, Vikram Mishra." Her voice was dark, full of anger and she tugged on the golden strands connected to her, drawing Stone's eyes to them.

"These golden strands are timelines and I see them all. Past, present, future of all every single universe. That is why I am Time. And all I have seen, in every variation of your universe that I can see, you will never stop killing in the name of justice once you start. And from then on, you will take the weight of the world on your shoulders, you will burden yourself with every guilt one could possibly place on themselves. You will be hunted for your crimes and you will die the way you've spent most of your life, alone."

Her power softened, bright but less so. "That is only if you kill Jacob Nelson," she murmured, her voice soft like her power. "You still have time to give yourself the happy ending you want. Do not let grief stand in the way of what Ashok wanted for you."

"Don't say his name like you knew him," Stone said with a growl. He tightened his hold on the gun in his hands. "He was everything to me, the ground I walked on. Life is already a tragedy without him."

"Don't do this," Time repeated, eyeing him with a stare so intense, Stone felt it in the core of his very being.

A pocket of space opened up, one that would send Stone back into that alleyway. A way for Stone to come back to what he was planning on doing, to get the justice he was itching for.

He had opened it, his grief too raw for the goddess to contain.

"Don't step through there, Vikram! Go home! Go home and get your happy ending."

Stone raised his gun, prepared to shoot as soon as he stepped through the pocket of space.

It was tempting to abandon his need for justice, to try and heal like Ashok probably wanted him to. But Ashok wasn't here to tell him to let go of his anger.

"I can't. Justice must be served."

With those words, Stone stepped through the pocket of space and as soon as he saw Jacob Nelson in his sights, he went for a headshot. The shot rang out and rang true.

Nelson's friends abandoned his corpse, scrambling when the blood splattered across their bodies. Curses filled the air, all of them not wanting to be the next one on Stone's list.

Soon, only Stone and Nelson's corpse were in the alleyway. Stone felt the air get heavy, like his fate was cementing and if Time was right, then it was. And Stone didn't have the will to care about it.

He cocked the safety back on the gun and waited for it to cool, watching the blood on the ground flow into the sewers with the rain. The air smelled like gunpowder mixed with the rain, but it calmed him nonetheless.

"For Ashok, I'll kill every criminal. I will be Justice and damn my own fate," he murmured into the night.

When the sirens sounded like they were coming closer, he disappeared, already planning his next kill.

---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Did I also take this as an opportunity to insert one of the deities in the new pantheon/OCs I'm creating? Yes, yes I did.

So technically, Serial Killer!Stone wasn't just told about his fate, he also chose it. Also, he sounded a bit like the Dark Knight there at the end, whoops.

Reblogs are welcomed & appreciated! Asks are open, feel free to pop in and request something! (Check the rules in "Rules for Requesting NSFW" before requesting.)

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justanamesstuff · 1 year ago

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I'm gonna depict the sonnet bit by bit I hope you don't mind :)

My mistress' eyes are nothing like the sun;

I feel like this man would stare and stare into your eyes all the fucking time and never look away or want to blink he would do anything to be able to stare for hours if he could he would.

I have seen roses damasked, red and white, But No such roses see I in her cheeks;

He would love to make his girl blush and kiss her cheeks, just seeing the rose tint highlight her face he would fall weak at the knees for.

I love to hear her speak, yet well I know that music hath a far more pleasing sound;

I feel like matty would be a good listener and really listen to what your hobbies are what you wanna do for a living or anything as long as your talking he wouldn't care.

I grant I never saw a goddess go; My mistress, when she walks, treads on the ground.

THIS MAN WOULD TREAT ANY PARTNER LIKE A GODDESS example FKA twigs and the way he looked at taylor when he was at the Eras Tour, another example from my delulu brain is when Harry Styles followed Emma Corin around holding the back of her dress that what I would imagine he would be like at the brits with you or any fame event.

And yet, by heaven, I think my love as rare as any she belied with false compare.

another from my delulu brain is he would physically say to you "I think our love is 1 in 1 million, it's that rare" and he would be playing with your fingers and being really open and honest with you, and it would kind of slip past you that he's being very open about his feelings that you lightly chuckle and go "yeah I bet it is" or something like that idk.

I'm so bad at writing don't judge 🙃, also can you tell that I'm a Shakespeare lover?

Tbh some of the stuff in the sonnet are backhanded compliments, and I know that but I think I romanticise things to much but who doesn't

-back muscles anon

There’s a reasonable hour to cry a Saturday? Because I’m about to do it and it’s almost 9 o’clock!!

Apart from Matty, this is such a precious interpretation love!!! Absolutely adore it 🥺

Love Shakespeare…I only knew his plays and I adore them. Now I have to read the 154 sonnets haha

I totally agree with everything you said…I believe Matty is a romantic (not the movie’s stereotype, like the old, really poetic sense of the word) and he’s a big softy when he’s in love. Haters can say a lot of things about our boy but HE HAS A BIG HEART ❤️

I could keep rambling about all of this but what brokesd me was the “I think our love is 1 in 1 million”…I’m in love with him all over again…fuck…

#back muscles anon #matty healy

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sullina · 2 years ago

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Mel has alot of issues when it comes to King's and rulers, and because of that he didnt trust Bartra at all when he first met him. The TC only thought it is because of the DK but they didn't know that he serve or has seen a lot of terrible rulers for the past 3000 years.

They only figure it out when Mel rant it on Merlin. Mentioning how he served terrible Kings for 3000 years and never seen anyone good and generous (well some he did but only a few) although he didn't describe how it was but they know the people he served a long time ago was terrible if not worse judging his reaction and tone.

But it was interesting for them to watch Mel slowly opening up to Bartra and trusting him. They could tell he admire him because how he looks at him in amazement on the things he do to his people.

At first, Meliodas thought Baltra was pretty much like all the other kings he'd met over the years. When he first came to Liones, he watched the human king closely, very closely, including everyone around him, especially his grandmaster, Zaratras, who seemed a bit too interested in Meliodas for his tastes.

What he found, was that if they were cruel, they were good at hiding it. But it wasn't that easy to get Meliodas to trust someone. If they weren't directly abusing their people, surely there was something else going on like smuggling or kidnapping in the outer villages, right?

Again, Meliodas was proven wrong. Not to mention Zaratras seemed suspicious of him, or was it concern? Either way, he was definitely way too friendly with him. They'd still only just met.

When Zaratras revealed to Meliodas that the king had had a vision in which he was Elizabeth as his child and wanted to adopt her, Meliodas' initial knee-jerk reaction had been "no way in hell". He bit his tongue before the words could get out though. Baltra did seem like a very kind king and a good father, judging by how the two princesses loved him.

But despite having no evidence, Meliodas still had his doubts. So he allowed the kings' adoption of Elizabeth, but only under the condition that he, Meliodas, would be her personal knight. That way, if Baltra or anyone else really were to try something, anything, to harm Elizabeth, he could step in. And it also gave him the perfect excuse to keep investigating around the castle. The scuffle, not even a fight, with Zaratras was over quick. Although Meliodas may have let his demon powers show a little more than necessary in an attempt to get the grandmaster off his back for a little. Unfortunately, this had the opposite effect.

Merlin watched him with quite a bit of amusement. When she learned of what happened and where Meliodas and Elizabeth were now, she had of course done some investigating of her own and hadn't been able to come up with anything either. That's why she had to suppress a laugh when she visited Meliodas, who, with only a little prompting, went off about how Baltra may seem kind on the outside, but he was gonna slip up eventually! Meliodas sounded like a conspiracy theorist, as if all of Liones was just a facade to trick him in some way or another.

When he was done with Baltra, he complained about Zaratras as well, how he was way too trusting of Meliodas, someone he knew nothing about! Meliodas knew he was a druid though, so what if his whole "being nice" thing was just to trick Meliodas into letting down his guard. There was no way Zaratras didn't know Meliodas was a demon, or at least related to demons in some way, thanks to their little fight to get Meliodas the position of Elizabeths knight, and druids weren't exactly known to be kind to demons, since they worshipped the goddesses and all. No, there's no way Zaratras just is this nice. He must be planning something, be it only to get rid of Meliodas himself. Why else would he seek him out when there's nothing about work to discuss? (Obviously, Mels suspicions about Zaratras end up being false, but 3000 years of paranoia and bad experiences don't just go away because someone is being nice)

As time went on though, Meliodas found himself investigating less and less and spend more time with Baltra, due to the fact that he was now her father and he was her knight, and although he was aboslutely against having anything more than a work relationship with him, he found himself liking him more and more. And he was never able to sense any cruelty coming from him, whether he was in the throne room or with his daughters.

The commandments were sceptical too, though mostly because these were humans, but even they thought that Meliodas might be a little too hard on them. They don't know what exactly he's experienced the past 3000 years though.

#nnt #sullina nnt #nnt watching commandments au

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gauldheri · 11 months ago

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"Long night of raucous debauchery of course--" the joke clearly doesn't land, judging by the scowl on Felix's face. It seems to deepen, darken in a way that always seems to worm its way past Sylvain's defences. Briefly, his head inclines to the open reason textbook on his desk. He's not sure the answer will satisfy Felix, but he comes clean anyway. "Nah, I was studying. See? I'm not even a little hungover."

He stretches, back arching and yawns. The grin on his face is lopsided, half expecting another lecture. Something worth his time - Sylvain can just imagine Matthias saying the same thing. Telling him to focus on mastering the Lance of Ruin, maybe pick up the axe or improve his riding whilst he's here instead. Magic? What use was that to the future Margrave Gautier? Better off applying himself to something far more practical. He didn't come here to be tied down by his crest or father's title though. Felix might consider anything that isn't sword training to be a wasteful use of time, Sylvain hopes at least that studying something, instead of cavorting with the locals, will placate him a little.

"Thought I'd try taking the reason exam. Maybe? It might be pointless but..." it was fascinating and he enjoyed the challenge. Quietly, of course - the last thing he wanted was to court even further expectations upon his shoulders. It was a personal interest, one that had so far been easy to keep to himself. Still, Felix knew far worse things about him than this. "Could come in handy one day, you know? It's been keeping me out of trouble, too."

"How was your break? Let me guess, you refused to take it easy and got up at 5am every morning to train?" Felix was indomitable in that way, self-disciplined in a way that even at his best, Sylvain could never hope to match. He much preferred the comfort of a warm bed in the early hours of the morning. Sylvain accepts the gift with a smile - a gift from Felix's mother might as well be one from the surly young man himself. "Tell your mum I said thanks by the way she's the best--"

All the gusto is knocked straight out of him. It's such a small, delicate trinket. Yet it's always the little things that leave him speechless. The silver fleur-de-lis twinkles slightly in the sliver of sunlight that passes through his curtains. He wonders how something so tiny can hold so much meaning, carry the weight of the world practically. It's belonging, warmth - something unconditional and precious rarely found in House Gautier. It leaves him speechless, lungs empty of breath.

Goddess, he really can't get too sentimental on Felix though. The last thing he wants, the last thing he'd ever want, is to chase away the closest thing he has to a true home in the world. So Sylvain grins, a little waterier than intended and slings an arm around Felix's shoulder.

"Awwww, you shouldn't have! Both of you," fingers reach out, teasingly, threatening to pinch cheeks still round with youth. He doesn't quite go that far, knows Felix's boundaries better than his own. They do however find themselves intertwined with dark hair, ruffling ever so slightly. A light, brief touch. It's easy, so easy to play around like this, dancing around something between them that Sylvain fears will implode upon itself should he even try to reach for it, to put words to feelings left unsaid. As long as every line and action comes with laughter, a jest, he can get away with being so close. As long as it's a joke, whispered between the two of them and them alone, Felix will allow him to indulge himself for at least a little while. As long as he treads lightly, nothing will break. "I'll have to find some way to repay you. It's perfect. I love it."

"Thank you."

If You Say A Single Word About My Mom I Will Kill You || Sylvain & Felix

#t:if you say a single word about my mom i will kill you #s:felix #aegisshielded

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frogchiro · 2 years ago

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in her arms, i am calm

so umm,, after the scrumptious surprise that mhy gave us in the form of the fatui harbingers, so as promised, I decided to write a little something for the man that literally made my poor brain shut down and go into stand-by mode, Pierro <3

as promised, I'm tagging the wonderful @jade-parcels, she has been and still is my biggest inspiration SINCE MONTHS, and you may know me under the anon alias Fish!🐡 :) many other people have been so kind and encouraging, so i decided to bite the bullet and make a grand reveal! i'm dedicating this to you darling jade, I really hope you and others will enjoy it as much as I did writing this! also this turned out way less dirty than I intended, but what can I say, I'm a whore for fluffy smut 😭

warnings: reader is +18 years old!! (indicated to be as old as childe but feel free to read it as you please!), fem!reader (reader is refered to as a female with female body parts), heavy NSFW themes, age gap, referenced violence (not against the reader), possible dark themes, also please note that I took HEAVY liberties regarding Pierro and the rest of the Harbingers lore as we literally know almost nothing about them, so please take this with a grain of salt ;)

маленькая-little one

Pierro prided himself on many things, from his bravery and prowess in battle that led him and his country to many victories over the many years he served the Tsaritsa, the countless riches he aquired and hoarded in his mansion, right up to being crowned the First Fatui Harbinger, the Pierrot, the right hand of the Tsaritsa, something he knew many would kill for.

Yet all of that paled next to you, the little beauty that captured his old but sharp as ever eyes. For the first time in...years Pierro was truly at loss of words, for the first time he just... didn't know. Why did you, little, young, naive you capture the eyes of the oldest, most prominent Fatui Harbinger? He knew you of course, how could he not; you were the Tsaritsa's personal handmaiden, her favourite. You always accompanied your Goddess wherever she took you, which was almost everywhere, and he watched you with his snowy, sharp eyes, watched as your own clear (e/c) ones watched and rapidly tried to take everything in, your curiosity and wonder almost being child-like and naive in his eyes.

'She's still young my friend, I think you forgot how it was being like her, cut her some slack would you~'

Came the rich, deep voice of Pantalone, his fellow Harbinger. Pierro only rolled his eyes in quiet annoyance as he continued to watch you as your beautiful eyes flittered across the sprawling ballroom being decorated for the upcoming ball, everyone working extra hard as the Tsaritsa herself decided to attend the preparations, her favourite girl in tow, dutifully following her Majesty and listening to her speech about something the blonde man couldn't care less, his eyes focused on you.

Reminiscing the not-so-long-ago past, Pierro was interrupted with a sweet sweet whine that came from under him and he was quickly focused back on the present and on you.

'I'm sorry маленькая, I got a bit lost in my thoughts and neglected you eh? We can't have that, can we?'

Pierro rasped in a deep rumbling voice that you could feel through his chest in your tummy, the man always made sure to keep you as close to himself as physically possible, in and out of bed.

'To keep the cold away', he would say, but judging by the faint fond look in his usually stony eyes you could tell it way an excuse to simply touch you, not that you nor he'd ever admit it.

Your thoughts were interrupted by the strong thurst that moved you up the bed a little and caused you to cling tightly to Pierro's broad back that you loved so much. Another lond whine escaped your mouth as the man above you grunted and you felt a particulary well aimed thrust hit your sweet sport head on. You knew that although Pierro would never admit this, he loved it when you were loud and vocal in bed, so you let go of all the remaining thoughts and just let yourself feel.

The lovemaking session lasted well into the night, only the blazing hot fire in the enormous fireplace, the bright starts and Moon in the dark sky and the tiny snowflakes being the witnesses to your passion.

Pierro was watching you all night; all your gasps, moans and groans of pleasure, the faces you made, all the little eye rolls and your little pink tongue sticking out a bit, he watched it all with rapt attention, wanting to burn all these images into his mind and treasure them forever. He came shortly after your orgasm, how could he not? Your perfect walls clenching tightly around his cock, milking him for all he's worth and the sudden wet gush he felt send the man over the edge and he allowed to loose himself in the earth-shattering pleasure. With the last few deep thrusts that you swore touched your deepest, most intimate parts, he came with a rumbling growl and let himself fill you up to the brim. You moaned weakly and flinched at the feeling of hot cum shooting against your poor battered cervix, but your lover was quick to hold you still with his strong arms, not allowing you to even move an inch away from his hips as he quickly leaned down to capture your lips with his, and you have to admit, for a man as stoic and ice-cold as him, his kisses were sure expressive.

After he parted his lips from you, Pierro let out a heavy breath that he swore felt as if a stone was lifted from his weary heart. He kept looking at you, happy, full and sated and terribly sleepy as you always were after a night like this, you sometimes would tease him that for a man his age he sure had the strength and stamina of a young stallion at which he would always roll his eyes and tell you to get lost.

But now, in the privacy of his chambers, he looked at you with a look of adoration and utter devotion, his pale eyes looking and capturing every little detail of your tired and sweaty face as your heavy pants mingled with each other, your lips almost touching as you smiled tiredly up at him before reaching out and cupping his face in your small soft hands, your fingers caressing his face, combing through his long golden hair and beard, mapping every single one of his features before bringing his face closer and closing the distance between you.

Contrary to the heavy, lustful kisses full of tongue and teeth in the heat of the moment, these kisses were slow, calm and full on emotions, lips delicately touching and moving, tongues barely grazing each other.

After some time of post-coital cuddles and affection and a bit of soft whispery talk, you finally let your tired eyes rest after cuddling up close to your lover, but all the raging thoughts came back to keep Pierro from sleep.

After placing you on his broad chest and tugging the numerous thick comforters and luxurious furs over you two and making sure you were snug and warm, he let his thoughts wander.

Pierro knew painfully well that you two were an odd pair to say the least, in fact it was a big fucking understatement. He was...well, him, The First Fatui Harbinger, the stronges of them all, The Pierrot, the terror that shook the very earth where he stood, and you were this innocent little thing that was way to curious and clever for your own good.

He was no poet nor a great bard that could sing endless songs and ballads dedicated to your beauty, so he just described you as 'stunning' yet he felt immensely frustrated to call you this one simple word.

The planes of your unmarked (s/c) soft and healthy skin, the tiny little spots and blemishes that made you distinctly you, your (h/c) hair, always so thick and shiny, he loves to touch it and comb his hands through when you sleep, your wide curious (e/c) eyes. But what draws him to you the most are your perfect full lips that he oh so loves to kiss and trace with his fingers, the smiles you give him and when you laugh at his dry non-existent humor are angelic to his ears.

Don't get him wrong, the ever vigilant Harbinger sees and hears all the whispers of soldiers and servants alike, he's painfully aware of the gossip and rumors, of them talking about what a big old brute wants with a beautiful young thing like you.

Pierro frowns and almost growls with frustration when he remembers all the times that unhinged ginger brat made a fool out of himself to gain your attention, but can he really blame him? You're both the same age or at least close to him, much closer than you are to Pierro, or the stone-cut Arlecchino has the faintest blush on her icy face when you bring her some document the Tsaritsa personally asked you to deliver, and Pierro is about to recall even more scenarios like this that make his blood boil but he felt you move against his side, your naked breasts squishing oh so deliciously against his scarred chest and just like this all the negative toughts are gone and instead are replaced with these strange warm fuzzy feelings he feels whenever he looks at you.

He decides that enough is enough, he can't afford a headache that will make him miserable and cranky, so he lets go of those dark frustrating thoughts and moves down so that your face is in hidden in his neck and he allows himself to comb his fingers through your hair. He breaths in deep, taking in your distinctive scent that mixed with his creating something new and wonderful, and so the gruff, cold and seemingly unapproachable Harbinger lets himself rest and succumb to a deep slumber with the one good thing in his long life safe in his arms.

#genshin impact #genshin impact x reader #genshin impact smut #genshin smut #fatui harbingers #fatui x reader #pierro x reader #fem reader

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fluffyprettykitty · 3 years ago

Text

Voyage

Pairing: Marc Spector x gender-neutral! archaeologist! reader

Word Count: 1200 words

Outline: You were a fellow avatar and together you had joined forces with Marc to retrieve a precious relic. Along the road, you discovered more precious things.

Warnings: slight angst, gun mention, not beta read, hurt/comfort.

Author’s Note: Requested by an anon. I accidentally lost the ask, I changed some things slightly to benefit my storytelling. Hope you will enjoy it. :)

P.S: dividers by @firefly-graphics || banners by @maysdigitalarts

Main Masterlist ・❥・ Marc Spector Masterlist

Being the avatar of a god seemed like such a strange dream yet here you were, walking and talking and working for goddess Isis. Her latest request was to send you back to Egypt and inside the tombs of and temples of Osiris to find something she longed for. A special trinket -or totem really depends on your way of interpretation. You didn’t care too much as long as the end goal was pure and rooted in history and your biggest passion of them all: archaeology. All these years in college really did pay off.

In your journey, you had teamed with a fellow avatar. Marc Spector. He was witty, kind of hot heated, and very easy on the eyes. Tall, dark-haired, and with the kindest eyes you had ever seen on a man. Yet distant and buried deep within himself. He seemed to share almost the same end goal as you. Looks like all the gods were looking for things. Who were you to judge? Only here to serve her will until she felt done with you. Gods.

So far you had been on many different expeditions and explorations with Marc and long before you knew it, it was six months of you two working together. It felt wonderful having someone there to rely on. You had hoped he felt the same way. Marc didn’t speak often for himself, he was quiet and put together, there was a haunting behind his eyes and for an avatar of an Egyptian god, he truly and absolutely knew nothing.

“Steady,” Marc warns you as you are walking on the rocky surface of the abandoned long-forgotten ruins. He seemed to be trained in those kinds of stuff. The physical kind. You felt like you could trust him with your life at a moment like this, getting lost inside the tomb. A ruckus can be heard across the room as if someone doesn’t want to take what you need. Divine interventions, maybe. You shift in your step and continue on, Marc following close behind you, his gun in the air. Maybe someone else was here. These relics were a goldmine for a smuggler.

“Keep steady, don’t get cheeky now.” Marc’s tone is getting more serious as you are gracefully hopping on top of moving stones, trying to get to the wall. Your mission was to get to the object first and let him worry about anything else. Something is glistening on the surface. There is something scribbled there, you need to get closer to read it.

“Is straight up ahead.” You let him know as you reach the wall, quickly focusing your attention on deciphering the message on the wall. “I know how to do this.” You say out loud, to reassure him, to affirm your moves, or maybe just for some extra encouragement. You turn around to nod your head at him with a smile before turning the circles on the wall according to the instructions on the scribble. The ruckus is getting bigger and an object is presented to you, hidden behind the encryption.

You feel a sharp pain overcoming your body, followed by your limps getting weaker by the second as the strangest sensation of water filling your lungs engulfs you. What is happening? You blink and everything is black. With your right hand, you try to secure the relic in your reach but you are not sure if you are failing or succeeding. Then everything is black.

Yet the next moment, you awake to the sound of someone’s voice ringing against your ear. Memories of a childhood past pass through your mind and you feel like you are swimming against a current. One thought occupies your head: You have to wake up.

“Talk to me!” Marc raises his tone, his head frantically searching around your body. There is blood on his face, a panicked look in his eyes. Fires raging in the background.

“Please, wake up, Y/N, I need you!” More desperation befalls him as he is frantically shaking your body. With a deep breath he leans down and starts performing CPR on you, one-two tries and there you are. Waking up violently, forcing your eyes open as the air hits your lungs, you are blinking fast to the cheering sounds of Marc echoing through the Egyptian tomb.

“You came back to me!” His face wears a look of happiness as he takes deep breaths, beaming from side to side.

“I-” You breathe out trying to understand what happened. “I thought- I thought I was drowning.” Didn't you? Why is everything covered in flames?

“You were,” Marc responds shaking his head and sighing deeply. “For a little while, I dived in after you and brought you here.” For how long were you unconscious? You look at him as the panicked expression momentarily returns before leaving him again, he proceeds to hold your hands. “I am never letting any harm come to you, ever again. I promise that.” You chuckle in your shock, still bewildered by the occurrence of the previous events.

“It’s okay, Marc, it’s fine, I’m okay.” You nod your head and squeeze his hand. “I am alright.” Marc shallows a lump in his throat and leans forward, cupping your face now with one hand, the other pushing your hair away. This is the first time you had ever seen him like this, soft and vulnerable.

“I will never let anything like that happen ever again.” He wants to reassure you but it seems he needs that reassurance more than you, sounds like a promise to himself.

“Marc, I am alright, I’m alive, that’s all that counts.” His expression goes from pained to shocked back to smiling and then he shakes his head slowly. You needed to get out of here, both of you. And fast.

“I promise.” He repeats, his voice now a lot more serious than before. “I love you.” The statement is clear, this is a declaration and it’s something you have been waiting to hear for a long time. Your feelings for him were pure and just and yet never in a million years could you think that this man could also share them with you.

“Kiss me.” No time to waste anymore. This was the moment. A future and a promise altogether. You breathe out while your hands are wrapping around the wrist that’s close to your face. Black eyes reflect on yours and then he moves closer, placing his lips over yours, brushing them ever so slightly. Sealing your new fate.

“I’ve been waiting a long time to do this.” He whispers against your lips, heartbeats rising, echoing.

“Then why didn’t you?” You teased looking at him.

“Afraid.”

“Of rejection?”

“Of subjecting you to me.”

“You’re not that bad.”

“Hmpf.”

“You’re all heart.”

“You’re the most amazing human being I have ever seen.”

“Bold statement. I’m just me.”

“Exactly.” He draws his eyebrows together, his voice a little broken, heavy in his emotions. There was something about Marc, always something fighting to get on the surface. You had longed thought that maybe there was a long-lost partner, some great loss that he can’t quite mask and has instead chosen to live behind it.

“How about we get out of here, first? You know this place is about to get burned in flames. Then we can have a heart to heart.” You continue, and a different kind of smile curling at the ends of his lips.

“You promise?” Maybe you can brighten his life. Just a little.

“Yes.” Maybe he can brighten your life. Just a little.

Or a lot.

If you want to be notified about my future stories please follow my library blog @fluffyprettykittylibrary and turn on notifications!

#marc spector x reader #marc spector #moon knight x reader #moon knight #marc spector x you #marc spector x y/n #marc spector x gn!reader #marc spector angst #marc spector imagine #marc spector one shot #moon knight x you #moon knight x y/n #moon knight series #moon knight tv #steven grant x reader #selenewrites

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new2fivesauce · 2 years ago

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Until My Heart Explodes - Frank Iero

Howdy,

This is just a small smutty chapter of a series I had been working on a long time ago. The synopsis was that Spencer (Gerard and Mikey's sister) was ex-drummer for MCR. She departed the band suddenly, but came back hastily during the recording of Black Parade due to Gerard's drug addiction, Mikey's alcoholism, Ray (and Bob) possibly quitting the band, and Frank, her best friend with benefits, suddenly being engaged. I never completed it, but if anyone is interested, I can post the chapters that led to this one.

Pre-Black Parade Era

Warnings: nothing much other than a little smut and Frank being a cheater

Words: 2k

It was past midnight and the lady at the reception desk had eyeballed him with the most shameful eyes ever. Frank ignored her as he sauntered towards the elevators. He probably looked a bit sketchy in his dark clothing, dyed hair, and remnants of eye makeup, but who was that lady to judge? He mumbled miserably under his breath as the elevator eased to a stop at his floor. He read his sloppy handwriting on his key card, read the numbers on the doors, and then prayed to the key card gods that his key worked when he stopped at the room that was supposed to be hers.

He wasn’t worried about her having given him the wrong room number. He was worried that he transposed the numbers and that he could possibly be trying to creep into some unknown person's room. He inserted it; when the red light flashed green quickly, he pulled it out and turned the knob. He sighed in relief as he pushed the door open. The room was dark, but he knew without a doubt that he was in the right room. It smelled of peonies and cherry blossom lotion, a hint of chamomile tea, and clothes’ starch. Frank kicked his shoes off as he closed the door silently. He locked it and then began to tiptoe to where the bed was. His eyes took a while to adjust to the dark but when they did, he noticed the ironing board next to the TV, clothes ironed and folded for the next day. A suitcase close to the bathroom door. Lotions, makeup, and charging phone on the nightstand. Her sleeping body was enveloped under the thickest comforter. Frank pulled his jeans and t-shirt off, leaving himself in just his boxer briefs. He inhaled silently and then crawled under the covers. He scooched over until he could embrace her. He wrapped his arm around her midriff and pulled her close. The smell of her coconut shampoo, although so familiar with it, nearly drove him over the edge.

Spencer was not like any girl he had ever been with. Her confidence and self-esteem blew through the roof. She knew she looked good but wasn’t cocky about it. It was one of the things that drew Frank to her. Also, the fact that she was a sex goddess in bed. Frank’s mind wandered to all the places they’d fucked. Her naked body and faces of pleasure had remained ingrained in his mind. But it wasn’t only her looks and talent in bed that had kept him interested in her. She was intelligent, feisty, funny, and a bit difficult to read. He had always loved the challenge of trying to figure out her next move. His mind suddenly darted to Jamia… his fiancée. Guilt filled his conscience. He sighed heavily. Jamia was a pretty girl and underneath the baggy clothes, her body was fantastic. But she lacked confidence. Their sex life wasn’t all that either; It was pretty vanilla and she hadn’t made any indications that she wanted to spice it up. She was the safe choice. Gerard’s fuck up had opened his eyes and scared him shitless. He suddenly felt the need to settle. Other than that, he could say he was okay with their relationship…

Spencer awoke with a start, her body jolted before it tensed from the heavy weight of someone embracing themselves around her. Frank felt her shift, shushed her, and placed a kiss on the crown of her head. Spencer, realizing that it was only Frank, relaxed and eased her body back to mold herself with him. Frank smelled of cinnamon, cigarettes, and coffee. Even at whatever ungodly hour it was, Frank strangely always smelled of coffee. Spencer drew in his scent and quickly fell into slumber again. It took Frank’s non stop fidgeting to wake her up again. She turned her body sluggishly, her eyes still closed. Frank grabbed her by the hip to pull her flush to his body. He brought his face to hers and pressed his lips to her lips. Although drowsy, Spencer didn’t mind the slow, intimate, yet hungry kisses. Frank’s hand wandered from her waist to her bare thigh. She was in his favorite sleeping outfit: undies and an oversized t-shirt. He squeezed her thigh and a soft moan escaped Spencer’s mouth into his. He was fucking turned on and ready to take her in that moment, but that guilt gnawed at him again. Frank pulled away and she whined. He chuckled. “I missed you.” He whispered to her. She nodded as she gently opened one eye to look at him. He bit his lip as he watched her face. Since her argument with Ray and her departure from the band’s temporary housing while they recorded their third album, it had been easy for them to be together when and where they wanted. Even though nothing more than kissing had happened, tonight was definitely different. There was electricity in the air. Months of separation led to the built-up sexual tension they both were feeling suddenly. Spencer sat up. She gave Frank a small push, making him land completely on his back. In the shadow of the night, Spencer looked just as gorgeous as ever. She pulled the shirt she was wearing over her head, exposing her body to him. She straddled him, her warmth making him instantly hard. He smirked up at her. The only thing stopping them now was their underwear. Spencer returned the crooked smile. She grinded against Frank and made him whimper. “I missed you too.” She whispered to him before Frank flipped them over and attacked her lips. The kiss was hard, hungry, savage, full of saliva, tongue, and teeth. Frank bucked into Spencer, causing a gasp to slip out of the both of them.

The guilt that had chewed at him had grown almost nonexistent as his hands roamed his lover’s body as if it was his first time touching her. Although they had done this countless times, he was always nervous with Spencer as if it was their first time.

“Please…” Spencer groaned as he peppered kisses along her chest and gripped her waist while the other wrapped around the back of her neck. “Please, Frank… I’m so goddamn horny. Please, fuck me. I need you. I miss you. Please.”

Her whispered whines had Frank almost in pain. How could he have let her go? How had he gone so long without her body against and inside her? His dick throbbed, aching to get inside her. He slid off her boyshort underwear in a swift movement.

The soft moonlight that filtered through the window curtains was the only light in the room, but Frank could see Spencer glistening for him when he spread her legs open. She was fucking beautiful, lying on this hotel bed with dim illumination. Frank’s mouth watered as her pussy clenched around nothing.

Spencer was looking up at Frank as he admired her. His eyes were staring down at her most vulnerable part with such adoration. She’d never seen him look at her in that way. She slowly brought him back to reality, when she reached one of her hands to rest on his thigh. He blinked himself back to earth and with a weary smile, he pulled his briefs off.

He settled in front of her entrance, his tip teasing her. Spencer tried to press him into her, but he tsked and pinned her legs down into the soft mattress. “Patience, babe…” he softly said.

She managed to prop herself up on her forearms, just as Frank eased his tip in. Her head tilted back, eyes half-closed, her bottom lip tucked between teeth.

They gasped collectively as Frank eased in till he was at the hilt. Frank was well endowed and given the time it’d been since their last encounter, he gave Spencer a few seconds to adjust to his length and girth.

She didn’t finish collecting her thoughts though as Frank snapped back and slammed vigorously into her. He held her thighs apart, her heels digging into the back of his thighs. Her breasts bounced with each thrust and it was driving Frank crazy. She felt so damn good around him. Her soft velvet walls clenched tight as he felt her first orgasm beginning to form.

Spencer tossed her head left and right, strung out from the ecstasy. Incoherent words tumbled out her mouth but the only thing Frank could make out was his name and the occasional “fuckfuckfuck.”

Spencer suddenly looked at Frank wide eyed. Frank didn’t stop, just slowed his rhythm down. He knew she was close, he knew the exact way her pussy felt when she was almost there, but he wasn’t ready for her to climax.

He pulled out. An exhausted whine left Spencer as she propped herself up again. Frank didn’t say anything. He just raised a finger and twirled it once in the air. She struggled into a sitting position before turning facedown on the bed. They knew each other so well, they didn’t even use words.

She balanced herself on her hands and knees but Frank leaned forward to push her hands from under her making her drop down to her elbows.

“You should know better.” He mumbled lowly into her ear as he pulled himself back. He spread her legs apart as he placed a hand on her lower back slightly pushing down to angle her ass up more. He groaned at the sight. Her arousal was dripping from her core. He took two of his fingers to swirl it around. It was warm and sticky.

“You look so pretty like this.” He said as he teased her entrance. Spencer didn’t reply. She only exhaled in anticipation. Frank’s fingers wandered upward towards her other hole. He teased the puckered entrance by pressing in gently with his thumb. His mind wandered to the couple of times they’d tried anal and his dick twitched.

Spencer tensed at the sensation of his thumb entering her back entrance. She was not opposed to it but she wasn’t warmed up and Frank had edged her. She needed an orgasm and she wasn’t going to get it that way.

“Please…” she whimpered as Frank lazily began to massage in and out of her. It felt good but she needed more. “Need you. Need to cum.”

He didn’t need her to beg anymore than that. He was close himself just seeing the way he was toying with her. He hooked his thumb in her ass as he guided himself back into her soaked entrance. Spencer sighed in bliss as he picked up his pace. She groaned as Frank eased his thumb out of her back hole and gripped the soft skin of her hips and butt to guide himself into her the way she liked.

Another several pumps and Spencer could feel the familiar knot in her stomach start to form. “I’m almost there.” she moaned into the pillow beneath her head. Frank kept his pace, his eyes already adjusted to the dim room and able to make out the way Spencer’s folds were fluttering around him.

“I’m gonna–” Spencer mumbled, a white flash spread across her closed lids as her body caught the wave of her orgasm and caused her shudder. Her body began to grow limp as Frank finished himself into her just as the euphoria settled over her tired body.

Their bodies collapsed next to each other. They both gasped for air as the high dissipated. When their heart rates had gone back to normal, Frank and Spencer got comfortable once again with Frank spooning Spencer as he had before.

“Frank…” Spencer whispered, hoping that Frank hadn’t fallen asleep yet. He hmmmed as he leaned into head and kissed her hair. “Is this going to be the last time?”

Spencer felt Frank stiffen the arm that was draped over her side, completely unaware that that was what she was going to ask him.

“I don’t know, baby.” he answered weakly. He brought her closer to make her feel less insecure and he figured it did because her breaths became slow and deep not long after that.

He laid restless against the person he figured was his one true love. He just knew they weren’t anywhere close to making anything official; Spencer had made that clear when they’d first started with their benefits relationship.

The guilt that had vanished temporarily was starting to creep up again. He closed his eyes, pressed his forehead to Spencer’s head and hoped that feeling would be gone by the morning.

#frank iero #my chemical romance #my chem #mcr #frank iero imagine #frank iero smut #until my heart explodes #mcr imagine #my chemical romance imagine

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dyns33 · 3 years ago

Text

Snake and Lizard

So a little Loki x Y/N (Strange’s wizard student). Cute and funny.

I tried my best so Y/N can be a man or a woman, but it’s hard to put “them” next to a group of people, I hope it’s not too confusing at the end.

No, Y/N was not jealous. It was really a really good thing that Loki was talking to other people and trying to make friends. Even if they were childhood friends, long lost, and who had never bothered to ask about him. Nor that it was a powerful magician, blonde, tall, magnificent, a goddess, with her ridiculously long dress, that yet did not cover much.

From their first meeting, Loki and Y/N immediately hit it off, comparing their powers and having fun doing pranks together. Y/N was not in New York during the attack, and they thought everyone deserved a second chance anyway, so they had accepted Loki without asking questions, which had touched the God, since the rest of the Avengers, and of humanity, continued to distrust him.

No, Y/N wasn't jealous at all, while Loki only had eyes for this bitc... witch, smiling and laughing at almost everything she said. It didn't mean anything.

Maybe Thor hadn't helped. After Peter and Tony scoffed at Y/N a bit, saying they looked grumpy, the God of Thunder had wanted to be reassuring, saying that Loki was certainly not looking to replace his best friend... he had. just always fascinated by Sigyn, he'd probably even been in love when they were kids, but he would never give up on his little wizard.

"Lizard." Peter reminded him.

"Apprentice Lizard." Strange corrected as he walked past them.

"I still haven't validated that code name. And I know Loki won't let me, I'm very happy he's having fun at this terribly long and boring night. We could have done a lot of pranks..."

"Y/N." Stephen muttered, passing by a second time without looking at them.

"... But my Master forbade me, so it's a very good thing he's busy, and not influencing me."

"I'm pretty sure the time you colored my armor in pink, it was your idea."

"Maybe, but he asked me for an idea."

It was certainly not of this Sigyn that Loki would ask such a thing. Oh no, she and Y/N were too different. Not in the same category. Y/N was the playmate, sort of siblings at best, with whom Loki could do whatever he wanted without worrying about being judged. This tall idiot was a princess. An object of desire. You had to please her, seduce her, bewitch her, and therefore behave like a polite and charming prince.

There had always been some tension between them. Something ambiguous, complicated. Sometimes when Loki put his hand on them, Y/N wanted more. A perfectly ridiculous desire. It was normal that the God of mischief did not care about a mortal, even if they practiced the mystical arts, and knew how to do good pranks. After seeing him with Sigyn, there was no more ambiguity, because there was no way to beat a goddess.

Being his friend was already a lot, and Y/N didn't want to lose that. Nothing was to change after that night, whether Loki wooed the witch or not.

However, unconsciously, Y/N put some distance between them, so as not to suffer too much, and of course, Loki noticed it. They no longer came to sit on him during the meetings, they no longer played with his hair, they did not put their head on his shoulder to rest.

But they continued to laugh and play together like kids.

So Loki didn't say anything. There had to be a good reason, and it would certainly be temporary.

Then Tony organized another party. More intimate, with only the Avengers, their relatives, and those who came to help without wanting to be associated with the superheroes.

When Strange, Wong, and Y/N arrived, they were quite surprised to see Sigyn, sitting next to Loki. The last time, their meeting had been fortuitous, all the Asgardians having been invited, but her presence today was wanted. Loki must have offered her to come.

The two Masters of the Mystic Arts quickly looked at the young student, Wong even patted their back gently, but without commenting.

At least this time Loki greeted them, but his attention quickly returned to the witch. And when Clint came up with a team game, Natasha found it amusing to put the two Gods in charge and so they had to choose their partners.

"Uh... Bruce." Thor decided with a shy smile. "Strong and intelligent."

"Pff. For that, I take the man of iron."

"Alright, the young spider next."

"Sigyn." Loki purred, turning to the goddess.

There was a little silence in the room. Everyone seemed both embarrassed by this overly romantic scene, but mostly shocked. Because Loki hadn't taken Y/N first. He always took Y/N with him when they had to make teams. Strange muttered something with a grimace, while Thor stared at his brother with a look that was hard to read.

"It will be Y/N for me then."

"A very good choice, dear brother." Loki hissed oddly.

The game was no fun, as both team leaders seemed to take it far too seriously. It wasn't all that surprising, with the two brothers often competing over who was the best, but this time there was something more. Bitterness. Y/N did nothing to calm Loki, unlike usual, only looking after their team. He had wanted Sigyn, it was up to her to take care of these things, if she was so wonderful.

The game ended in a draw, the only way to avoid a war, and Y/N moved away from the group to go talk to Peter in the kitchen. The young Spiderman loved asking them lots of questions about magic, and dreamed of being able to have fun with Y/N and Loki, but the others had forbidden him so, and the nickname he had found for the wizard had not pleaded in his favour. But tonight, that was not a problem.

"Are you sure you're ok ?" Peter asked, visibly worried.

"Hmm ?"

"I just called you Lizard three times, and you haven't tried to change me into a spider. And you're not with Loki. You're always with Loki."

�� "Right now I'm with you, be happy and shut up."

It wasn't just Spiderman who was surprised. Finally leaving the tall blonde alone, Loki walked up to them, having a drink without saying anything, staring at Peter insistently until the young man realized he had to leave the room, which he did quickly.

"Darling..."

"Don't. Don't call me that."

"What ? Why ?"

"Because I'm not. Your darling. I'myour friend, your pal, your partner in crimes, but that's it. Go back to your dear princess now, she's a darling."

"... You are jealous ?"

"No."

"If Sigyn ?"

"No."

"I mean, I'm happy to know that my plan worked, but I was not expected this."

"Your plan ? You wanted me to be jealous ?"

"No, Thor."

It turned out that from the start, it was Thor who loved Sigyn a lot, ever since they were kids. He admired the sorceress from afar, without daring to approach her. Loki had noticed this, and since teasing and annoying his brother were his favourite pastimes, he had grown closer to the goddess, using his charm, knowledge of magic and his ability to lie. He really needed the last one to get to spend so much time with Sigyn, and not just so she wouldn't guess what game he was playing.

"I have to pretend to find her interesting. It's so hard, because she's so... so... empty. Flat. Flavorless. Yes, she's beautiful and powerful, but she's a pretentious chick. A real princess. I hate it. I have to play the fool to please her. But when I see the look Thor makes after she laughs at one of my remarks, it's worth it."

"Is that why you invited her tonight ?"

“Thor invited her. He was hoping to spend some time with her. I couldn't resist, and when it was my turn to pick for the group, I took her, to show my brother that I knew very well that he wanted her. Oh, he should have chosen her first, but no, that clown was afraid to be too obvious."

"... I see. I'm... sorry."

"Don't be. You know, there's a reason why Thor picked you right after. He's not as dumb as I thought he was." he smiled before leaving.

Thor had long understood that Loki was laughing at him by taking Sigyn's full attention. He also understood that he liked Y/N a lot. A lot lot. In revenge, he had therefore taken them in his team.

In the living room, a new tension had set in. Upon learning that he was a Master of the Mystic Arts, and a Doctor, Sigyn had grown closer to Strange, much to the dismay of the God of Thunder, and this even though Stephen seemed very uncomfortable.

Loki watched them with a big smile from the sofa, sipping his drink, trying not to laugh. He stopped when Y/N sat on his lap.

"Not. a. word."

"Yes, my darling." he whispered, putting a hand on their waist.

From a corner of the room, the other Avengers were unsure whether they should be reassured that they were reconciled, or if they should be afraid that the Snake and the Lizard were together again.

"Why does their mating rituals have to be playing pranks on as many people as possible ?" Stark sighed.

"They're cute together though." Steve said.

"They are idiots." smiled Bruce.

"Dangerous idiots. Why don't they just fuc… Who put salt in my glass ?!"

For once again using the mystical art for something futile, Strange forced Y/N to clean the entire temple, and forbade them to see Loki for a week. Although this punishment was more for the God of Mischief, because Stephen had great difficulty getting rid of Sigyn, who was really annoying, and now Thor was quite hostile towards him out of jealousy, creating rain as soon as the wizard was going outside.

#loki #loki imagine #loki fanfiction #loki x reader #Strange's student Y/N #doctor strange #peter parker #thor #avengers

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luimagines · 3 years ago

Note

Coul I request the chain reacting to meeting the reader who is Wild's sibling? (If background is needed shrieks science and them whatever purchase did so the reader is just sorta- 15-28 )

Masterlist

I don't understand the second sentence but I think I can infer what you're trying to say. And even then, I came up with a backstory that more less fixes it regardless so yay!

Wild is everyone's favorite chaotic creative sibling!

And I went for older sibling because reasons and just assume that sibling! Reader is in their early twenties.

Content under the cut!

You woke up one day in Hateno village, quietly aware of the silence that echoed through your house.

You miss your brother.

Not that he was here often with his Goddess given assignment nor did he even know who you were for the first half of it.

What a day that was.

Your little brother back from the dead, scars and all and then some... but he had no idea who you were.

It hurt to say the least. But you were told it would happen once the news reached you. He would wake up one day to finish his duty but he would not remember anything regarding his past life.

Even when he found you again, after he somehow remembered you, you didn’t know where to begin.

You just knew that you were so happy to be together again after so long that you hugged him as tight as you could and told him that your door was always open.

To say you both cried is the understatement of the century. It was wet and ugly and messy and neither of you really talk about it but it felt good that day.

And while you both knew he couldn’t stay for long with his adventure being no where near complete. He did come home for the night after he set that travel medallion of his by the front door.

But that was then- before the Calamity was defeated.

Now that it’s gone- so is your brother. Again.

On a different quest this time, it seems.

You don’t understand why your baby brother of all people has to be the one to do it and you would like nothing more than to wrap him up in a blanket and shield him from anything else that comes to hurt him- but he never let you do that as a child- let alone now.

You begin the day like any other and try to get as many mundane chores done as you can before you finally try and get the stable in the back fixed up.

You noticed Link had an affinity to horses and had checked in with the nearest stable to see that he had some lodged under his name.

There’s a place at the house, darn it. Lodge them here. It just needs to be fixed.

With your goal in mind, you lose yourself to the work and the time passes effortlessly.

It’s around noon by the time you hear it.

The familiar sound of activation that gets your heart pounding in relief and unbridled joy.

You drop your hammer and run to the front of the house with the largest grin on your face. “You’re back, you Rug Rat! Come here!”

You single him out instantly amongst the group and tackle him in a hug.

He’s long stopped trying to fight on you on this and has also returned your crushing hug with one of his own. “I’m back.”

“You brought friends too.” You grin and give the group a two fingered salute. “And here I was afraid that this loner child would end up dead in a ditch somewhere and I would be none the wiser. Thank you for looking after my little brother. I’m aware he’s a handful.”

“Ok thanks.” He says.

“Little brother?” Someone from the group asks. They’re lost amongst the sea of head but you nod regardless.

“Yup. I remember the day he was born like it was yesterday.” You grin and put your hands on your hips, introducing yourself right after. “Any friend of Link’s is a friend of the family. Come in, come in. Make yourselves at home. It’s not much but it’s ours. Been in the family since before the calamity struck. Let me wash up a bit and then we can get some food going, yeah?”

“I’ll start up the stove.” Link says and you’re about to disagree. After all, he just got home and should rest while he can but he ahs the most unburdened smile on his face that you can’t bring yourself to deny him.

“Alright.” You sigh and head to the back where the shower is. It’s always been small and a bit cramped and the door stopped fitting correctly about ten years ago but now that’s it’s not just you anymore, you can go around into the giving the house the TLC it deserves.

But you’re starting with the stable in the back.

When you’re finished and you’ve dried yourself off, you get into the house to find it in a delightful array of colors and chaos.

Each of the boys seemed to have made themselves completely at home in the time you were gone and you leaned against the door frame, watching them all interreact.

Your brother didn’t waste any time with getting the stove up and running. You can smell the beginning of lunch getting cooked and it appears that Link has wrangled two of the boys to be his helpers. One appears to be the youngest with bright wide eyes and a similar blue tunic to that of Links and the other looks to be slightly more timid in the process. He’s around the same height as Link but darker hair and a long white cape still clasped around his shoulders.

You recognize the Master Sword strapped to his back.

Making a note of that you look around the room again. Three of them have made themselves comfortable at the table. One is easily the biggest guy of the group, red and blue tattoos on his face and scar over his eye as he watches the others go about the admittedly small house. The other two look to be the same size and you’re sure you can look them in the eye if you needed to. They’re talking to both each other and the group that’s cooking. One has a wolf pelt on his shoulder with more tattoos on his face and other is a knight if you’ve ever seen one with a bright blue scarf around his neck.

You’re not one to judge your brother’s friends but you make a mental note to watch him in case he tries anything.

Two of the boys- one with pink hair and the other have the most solid brown mane of the whole group have made themselves spares and are talking quietly to each other and not making a fuss.

The final one looks to be the smallest but he’s got an older glint to his eye that recognize well. He’s wearing arguably the most color tunic of the group with those four patches sewn together. He’s tucked himself away into a corner with a book out, not interacting with either of them outright but he has been looking up and adding his two cents to the older’s conversation at the table.

They don’t notice you’re back which is a testament to how tired they all must be.

They’re an interesting bunch.

But Link did always surround himself with interesting people.

So you’re not really surprised.

“Sooo...” Pinky starts off, calling your bother’s attention. “You have an older sibling?”

“Yup!” He answers, not looking up from the pot. “They were waiting for me the whole time, and even manage to keep the house. Up keep still needs to be done but we’ve been working on it together.”

“But they’re older.”

“Yes. We’ve established this.”

You have to hold back your snort.

“You were asleep for one hundred years.” Four Patches speaks up, closing his book silently. ”Shouldn’t they... ummm...”

“Be dead?”

“Or at least really old?” Mr. Brunette hops in, trying to lessen the blow of the sentence.

“You’re like one hundred and seven teen right? Wouldn’t that put them at being one hundred and twenty something?” Wolf boy offers.

“I guess so. Yeah. They were old at some point.” Link stops stirring and you can see him try to run the numbers in his head. “I know that much. The village talks about them being really old sometimes, but I guess that was years ago because it’s only from the older folk that live here.”

“But they lived through those one hundred years, didn’t they?” Blue Baby Face speaks this time.

“That’s what they told me.”

“So....” The knight tilts his head and tries to put his hands out as if that would help answer the question. “They’re like the Old Man then? Old in their head but young on the outside.”

“You can say that, yeah.” You say and take extreme satisfaction at the way most of the jump at your voice. “Unlike Link, I was alive the whole time he was asleep. I’ve got grandkids in Lurelin and they visit from time to time but someone had to at least keep the house up and running, might as well have been me.”

“I...” Link starts as he takes the food off the burner. “I never asked you how you stayed young, did I?”

“Nope.”

“Oh.” He looks away and deflates a little. Link looks a little disappointed with himself and that won’t stand in this house.

“I didn’t realize it was that important. And I’m going to assume you’ve explained most of the situation Rug Rat.” You laugh a little with a raised eyebrow. “You can blame Purah. You know she wanted to find a way to keep the old from aging, right? It’s why she’s in the body of a little kid again. But when she tried the second formula she realized that if she tried it on herself that it might as well but poof her back into a baby and she wanted to contact Robbie but he’s too far and too old to make that trip. I volunteered.”

“Really?”

“It still didn’t really work, I was transformed into a teenager instead of a child- a horrible time to exist really. But I suppose it was a blessing in disguise. By the time this one-” You step into the house fully and ruffle Link’s hair. “-came back, it left us with the same age gap as before. So in the end I can’t complain.”

“Why’d you volunteer?” Cape guy leans on the wall. “There’s only so many times you can test it, right? Who’s to say it wouldn’t have been worse?”

“Yeah, what if it did transform you into a baby again and you forgot everything?” Four Patches stands up and comes to stand by the table, putting his book on top of it.

“I wanted to take the risk.” you shrug and pull your brother into a hug. “Is it a crime to want to see my baby brother again not matter the cost?”

“Get off.” He whines.

You laugh but do as he asks. “It was never said when he’d be back. Only that he would. I was willing to buy as much time as needed to be there for him.”

“I didn’t remember you...” He mutters to himself.

“You now, don’t you?” You punch him gently. “We’ve talked about this. It’s ok. I knew it was going to happen. It wasn’t going to stop me. Ganon himself couldn’t properly get rid of me. I’m not leaving your side anytime soon.”

He smiles and turns to hug you.

“Now where’s your wolf friend?” You ask. “Are you still traveling together? There’s something I wanted to give him.”

Wolf Pelt shimmies in his seat for a second but you don’t think much of it.

Link shakes his head. “Not right now but he has been coming by every now and then.”

“Well it’s good he’s still around to look after you then in my stead.”

“We have a horse though.” Link tilts his head up to grin at you. “It’s not the same but her name is Epona.”

Familiarity stabs you in the heart and you know it’s something that Link even remember even if he lives another one hundred years.

He was too little when she passed.

“...Like dad’s old horse. Can I see her?” You say with a light constriction in your throat. “How crazy would it be if they looked alike?”

“Dad had a horse?”

“You wouldn’t remember her, you were too little. I barely remember her as it is but yes, he did.” You take a step back and motion back towards the door. “Maybe after lunch you show me. We can bring her to the back and measure up how the stable is. I’ve been fixing it up.”

“Really!?” Link blinks, an excited glint appearing in his eyes.

“Yes. That’s what I was doing when you first came in. But let’s eat first.” You put your hand to the small of his back and push him gently in the direction of the table. “And then you can tell me about your friends and this new adventure of yours.”

#linked universe x reader #linkeduniverse #lu wild #it's a bit longer than the other one shots #and yet i think it's the most uneventful #let me know what you guys think #linked universe

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jonogueirawrites · 2 years ago

Text

Save him from himself.

Chapter 2

Summary:

Bucky has to face the consequences of his actions... if only he knew what would happen, maybe he would have become an outlaw earlier.

Much earlier.

TW: None.

AO3

Outlaw.

The phone rang once, and everybody looked at it. Their movements halted so they could look at the offending thing. When it rang for the second time, all eyes turned to its owner before they returned to their previous activities. Ayo, though, followed the woman with her eyes. Not judging but wishing. Wishing that whatever or whoever had sent the messages made the other fighter feel less lonely because even though she was surrounded, everyone could see that she missed him… more than anything.

~~~~~

Standing up and flinching from the pain, Lillian took the small thing from the bench and rolled her eyes, mouthing an I’m sorry to her fellow partners. Before addressing the messages, she walked out of the place and drank the rest of the water from her bottle without stopping to breathe.

Rolling her bruised shoulders and feeling the aches and pains from the last month’s training, she sighed heavily, telling herself for the thousandth time that it was worth it. Every little contusion, dislocated joint, lonely nights, and tears were worth it. Everything and anything she could do to protect him was done without question. Whatever the price was.

A grunt escaped her mouth when she leaned on the cold glass wall and lifted her phone to read the messages. A playful smile danced on her lips when the name Mr. Wings showed up on the screen. Her friendship with Sam Wilson only grew after the events that changed the world. He always made her laugh, and together they teased Bucky until he stopped brooding. Joking alongside them and having a good time. Sam and she knew how important it was for Bucky to feel connected to the present. Not to live his life in the past but to learn from it. Grab his new chance and do whatever he wished with it. She only hoped she was part of whatever plan he had.

There were two videos attached and nothing more. She tapped on the first one and her playful smile became a frown. That Bucky could be careless sometimes wasn’t a surprise but seeing him jumping from an airplane without a parachute and landing on his back sure as hell wasn’t something that made her giggle… although she did indeed grin when Sam teased him, and he got all worried about her opinion.

By the time she had finished watching the second one, there were cracks on the screen and a rapidly increasing headache. She closed her eyes and pleaded to every god out there to help her keep calm. Time and time again, she begged him not to get in trouble, but it was to no avail. It seemed trouble followed him wherever he went.

“I am going to kill you, James. Slowly, painful, and I will not regret it! And then you will buy me a new phone after making me break this one.”

~~~~~

When the cops took Bucky to the police station, he wasn’t expecting to see his therapist waiting for him. It was, in fact, the last thing he thought he would see. She chatted with Sam about his release and told them she wasn’t the one responsible for it but John Walker, who walked inside the place alongside Hoskins to talk to the trio.

John’s stride was filled with confidence. It was clear he wanted to fall into their grace. He had tried once to work together with the pair. And both Sam and Bucky knew that whatever he did would fail just like the first time. Although Bucky didn’t want to admit it, there was one and only one thing he had similar to Steve. They both were stubborn.

After a brief moment of animosity between Bucky and John, the group turned their attention to the entrance’s door when someone gave them a round of slow, loud applause.

“Oh shit!” Sam said before laughing, prompting John and Dr. Raynor to look back at him.

And Bucky… he looked at the woman in front of him. Once, he thought she was an angel sent to take care of him. A goddess who had taken pity on him and decided to free him from his mental shackles. But in truth, she was nothing more than a demon. Always teasing him with her laughter and soft skin. Her gentle words leading him to do whatever she wanted. To be whatever she wanted. And the best part of it all was that she wanted him to be himself again. Whole and happy. Without asking for anything in return. So, no. Not a demon or any other mystical being. Just a queen. His queen.

“James Buchanan Barnes.” Bucky looked to the floor, ashamed. He wanted to see her again. Oh, he did, but not like that. Not with so many people keeping eyes on them. “Let’s see if I got it right.” She raised her fingers and started counting on them. “You jumped from an airplane without a parachute, then proceeded to be reckless and got your ass kicked. You failed to show up to your therapy session, and now we are here in this police station where someone had to bail you out. Did I miss something?”

The click of the high heels approaching was like the tick-tock of a clock counting his mistakes… counting the minutes until he would be done and gone from that place. Away from those people. Alone with the one who mattered the most.

Sam snickered, gaining an intense stare from Bucky. “No. I think you got everything right,” he said, chuckling.

“I’m sorry. Who are you?” Dr. Rayner asked. On her face a mixture of amusement and confusion. She was shocked to see someone have such an effect on her most challenging patient.

“Apparently, nobody important. Isn’t that right, Mr. Barnes?”

Sam laughed again and patted Bucky’s shoulder. “Someone is in trouble.”

Bucky sighed and closed his eyes before answering the question. “Dr. Raynor, this is Lillian Black, my fiancée. Love, this is Dr. Raynor.”

“It’s a pleasure to finally meet you, Lillian.” She extended her hand, and Lilly shook it. “Bucky doesn’t talk about you. At all.”

“Is that right?” Lilly gave him a pointed look.

“That part of my life has nothing to do-”

“Love…” Lilly rested her hands on his chest, giving him a quick kiss on the lips. “We talked about it.”

Bucky rested his forehead on hers. “I missed you so much.”

“I missed you too.” She caressed his jaw. “I’m back. I’m here. I’m not leaving.”

“Promise?”

Lilly laughed. “Yeah. Promise.”

John cleared his throat. “It’s nice to meet you, Lillian. I didn’t know Bucky was engaged.”

Lilly gave him a good look. Examining his face and then his uniform. “The new Captain America. It’s nice to meet you.” She nodded his way. “Thank you for helping Bucky. It was very kind of you.”

Bucky scoffed. “Oh, believe me when I say that it wasn’t because he has a big heart.” He placed himself slightly in between them. Unconsciously trying to shield that part of his life from the man.

While Dr. Raynor shook her head, Sam had a stern look on his face, prompting Lillian to give John and Lemar another good look.

“Is that so?” She almost whispered to herself. “Still, thank you!”

“Don’t mention it. I thought that we could-”

It was Dr. Raynor who interrupted them. “Bucky, therapy now. You too, Sam.”

Before Sam could protest, Lillian laced her fingers on Bucky’s. “Love,” she tilted her head and pressed her lips gently against his forehead, “behave, please.”

“I always do.” Bucky’s frown and answer made Sam laugh and Lilly smile.

“I know. And Sam?” She waited for him to turn and look at her. “It’s nice to see you!” He nodded, and the trio went on their way.

~~~~~

While they went inside, Lilly stayed behind taking care of Bucky’s final release details. John asked her questions about her time in the Avengers and her relationship with Bucky, answers she gave with minimal interest. If Bucky didn’t trust him, she wouldn’t either.

“Listen, John,” she signed the last papers, “put him in danger. Hurt him in any way. And it is me you will have to deal with. I don’t have any power or super-powered contacts, but an angered woman is worse than the worst of villains.” She gave the officer the pen back. “Bucky is a civilian, understand? A civilian . We don’t save the world anymore. We are getting married, starting a family someday, and having a boring, ordinary life together away from all the problems. We deserve that. He deserves that, and I’ll be damned if I let anyone ruin this for him.”

“I understand, but Bucky can help us.”

“Of course, he can help you. I’m not saying he can’t.” She crossed her arms and gave him a good look. “Everybody thinks that because he was trained to do some really shitty things, he owes them something. And the only thing that is owed here is a big fat apology from those people. Asking him to do more shitty things is easy. Looking at his eyes and seeing the broken man? Waking up in the middle of the night hearing his scream and pained groans? Seeing him space out remembering whatever the fuck still haunts him? That is the tough part, and very, very few people are willing to do it. Now that you became Captain America, you will understand what I’m talking about.”

“I was a soldier-”

“And you think because you went to war, and I’m not looking down at it, thank you so much for your service, and I really mean it, compares to what it is to being who you are now? When you have to call the big shots. When aliens drop down from the sky. When the whole Solar System depends on you, then you will understand. You will understand that with the kind of power that you have now comes unthinkable responsibility.”

“Ms. Black, please-”

“Just stop right there.” Lilly raised her hand. “I see my words won’t prevent you from trying, but you are warned. Hurt him, and you will regret it.”

-----

Bucky and Sam approached them, and Lilly turned their way with a smile on her face, already brushing aside her unpleasant conversation with John. She gave Sam a tight hug and talked to Dr. Raynor while the men went outside for a chat.

As soon as she left the police station, she walked to Bucky and Sam, who stood by themselves waiting for her. “I’m starving. How about some pizza?”

They crossed the street and headed down the way. Putting as much distance from the police station as they could before trying to get back to their private life. At least as much as was possible at that moment.

“I could eat something.” Bucky laced his fingers in hers.

“Well, I’ll leave the two of you alone. I’m sure you have a lot to talk about.” Sam shoved his hands in his pockets. “It was nice to see you again, Lilly.”

“Likewise, Sam.” She waved at him.

Before Sam walked too far away, he called Lilly. “Hey, Black! How bad are you going to scold him?”

Bucky shook his head. A small chuckle in the air and a big smile plastered on his face.

“Oh!” Lilly looked at him. “Intensely!” She playfully grabbed his ear and pulled him away. And although Bucky could be annoyed, he was nothing but delighted to be whole again.

Not knowing where to go, Lilly took her cell phone and searched for the nearest restaurant. Action that proved challenging to achieve since the screen was broken and barely working.

“What happened to your phone?” Bucky asked, looking at it from over her shoulder. His arms around her waist and his lips kissing her nape.

“You. You happened to my phone.”

“Me? What do you mean?” His nose buried in her hair. His metal hand made its way inside her t-shirt and started making circles on her stomach.

“Sam sent me the videos. I couldn’t help but get angry. Didn’t I tell you to stay out of trouble while I was away?” She turned to face him. Her hands cupping his jaw. “What if something bad had happened to you, Bucky? How would I live without you?”

As an answer, Bucky shot her a one-sided smile. “I don’t know. Probably find someone. Not as handsome as me, though?” He chuckled. He couldn’t help feeling happy. He had her in his arms, after all.

Lillian grabbed his t-shirt and pulled his lips down to kiss him. She missed him more than she could explain. His smile, laughter, and scent. She could drown in him, and even that wouldn’t be enough to quench her thirst.

“I’m sorry,” Bucky said between kisses. “I’m sorry, Love.” He lifted her and felt her circle her legs around his waist. He thanked the gods that the street was almost deserted and barely lit and walked them to a somewhat dark alley nearby. His mouth never leaving hers. “I missed you.” He left open mouth kisses on her neck. “You have no idea how much I missed you, Lilly.” Nibbling on the exposed skin, he let a low grunt escape him when she moaned in his ear.

“I missed you too.” She kissed him again. One hand pulling his hair and the other grabbing the back of his jacket, afraid he would vanish in thin air. “But,” she stopped and looked into his lust-blown eyes while he saw her midnight ones filled with yearning, “you haven’t behaved, so this will have to wait until we get to a hotel.”

“Lilly…”

“No. Put me down, and let’s eat something.”

“How about I put you down, and we go straight to the nearest hotel?”

“How about no?” She answered, tracing his lip with her thumb. Caressing the back of his head.

“Fine, woman!” He gently placed her on the ground and heard her chuckle. He watched as she took a couple of steps and, incapable of stopping, pulled her arm and kissed her one more time. “Take out and hotel.” He whispered on her lips and only let her go after she agreed.

I hope you liked.

Likes and reblogs are super appreciated!

#bucky barnes #lillian #save him from himself #marvel #the falcon and the winter soldier #tfatws #chapter 2 #outlaw

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