#in the worst spot too there was like a hole 3 feet to the left but he had to try to squeeze under instead

[thegroundhogdidit]

actually i have been curious what IS your url in reference to

lmao when i was like 14 my family had a groundhog living in our backyard that caused several problems such as digging a hole for himself and biting my aunt's dog. his name was carl and i loved him

[torturedtypewritersdept]

proclivity - part three - true blue

✯ pairing:

ex!bff!rafe cameron x diabetic!kook!fem!reader

✯ summary:

at one point in time rafe was your best friend. can summer romance erase all the damage he's done?

✯ [4.1k] warnings:

mature themes, mentions of anxiety, nostalgia, heartbreak, diabetes lingo, injury, ghosting, fluff and fear, domestic violence (not rafe), mean!ex!jj etc.

✯ a/n:

nothing!! please don't engage if you have a hard time with any of these topics <3 this was origianlly posted on my old blog @/illicitfixations, @/lovelornanonymity and i have rewritten + reshared it here :) trying out a new format with this post, hope you like it!

You didn’t want to – really you didn’t. The idea of you and Rafe being alone at a spot – your spot – a place, the place, that you hadn’t shared in close to two years was suffocating to say the least. You have continuously pressed replay on all the world’s worst scenarios; all the things that could go horribly wrong, that would surely break your heart into a million pieces all over again. Your feet feel clucky as they trudge through the sand and like the water that meets the land on the other side, you feel rushed into you; like the waves of a tsunami are crashing against the wall you’ve placed around your heart, the barriers are so close to breaking and they do as soon as you see him. He’s sitting, just past a sand dune, his shirt has been discarded and his hair is wet. 

“Hey, hot shot – you've been swimming without me?” 

You ask with a forced cheek. He only responds with his signature smirk. It was quiet, awkward for a moment. You couldn’t help but feel like you were being punked as you sat down beside him, his feet digging holes in the sand. You couldn’t remember the last time the notion of him being this close had crossed your mind or even seemed within reach. Which probed your next question to the boy sitting next to you. 

“Rafe.”

“Yeah?”

He questioned, with a smile on his face. 

“Can you tell me now?” 

You asked anxiously, ready for the blow of what you knew was coming – he was going to tell you why he left and you were sure that it was because of you after all. That’s the only thing that made sense in your brain. You watch him anxiously, intently as he shuffles, bringing his hand up to his hair to swoop his long locks out of his face and behind his ears. 

“Yeah, I guess I owe you that don’t I, pretty girl?” 

You’re on edge as you hear your old namesake leave his lips. He moves his hands behind him, leaning back into the sand. His skin feels hot against it, he notes. He swallows thickly and opens his mouth to speak. 

“You know I was different after my mom died, right?” 

You’re taken aback by his question – of course you know. She was the fucking sun and he’s just fucking like her; his cheeks and eyes – they belong to her. He belonged to her and it physically pains you to see him lose it after she’s passed away. You remember it all but mostly the way the bright left the blue hue of his eyes in the same moment the breath left her body. It makes your bones hurt to think about it still. 

“Yeah – how could I forget? I was too, we all were.” 

You said quickly. 

“I kept it well hidden then – until I couldn’t anymore, until I didn’t have a choice.” 

He’d replayed how he was going to tell you in his head over and over, over the last two years and finally came to the conclusion that he never ever would. But, now – at the prospect of having you within his reach again, he’s sure he’s going to spill his guts any moment. 

“Can you spit it out, drama queen?” 

You said with annoyance. So he blurted it out – rather frantically. 

“I was on drugs, okay!” 

He shouted. There was silence for a moment, you – too shell shocked to reply. 

“Look – I know you’re perfect and you’ve never done anything wrong in your life, okay? I’m sorry.” 

His eyes go dull as he braces himself for your judgemental glare. 

“What?” 

You ask in a too small voice. He doesn’t know what to say, so he stays quiet for a moment. 

“I was on drugs. Nobody knew. Then, I owed Barry a massive amount of money and he knew I loved you more than anyone, alright? So I had to cut ties.” 

He said very matter-of-factly. 

“I’m sorry.” 

You whispered and the ocean breeze made him suddenly cold, or maybe your tone of voice sent a chill up his spine. He’s truly not sure which. 

“What do you have to be sorry about, y/n?” 

He asked confusedly. 

“Not being enough – not being good enough for you to come to me and tell me the truth, that you didn’t feel like you could come to me.” 

The crack in your voice as you finished talking cut him straight to his core.     

“Pretty girl, it’s not like that, okay? I was trying to protect you.” 

Again, there was silence for a little while before either of you spoke. Rafe was trying to find the words; the ones to make you understand that you weren’t to blame. 

“You’re not messing with me, right?”

You asked suddenly. 

“What do you mean?” 

He questioned, confusedly. 

“I mean, you actually want to be near me again? You’re not messing with me?” 

You asked innocently, feeling far too insecure for his answer to be anything other than yes. 

“Of course, I want to be near you. I never wanted to stop being near you. It was just easier to cut everyone out than to explain my pain to someone else. I didn’t want to face all the disappointment either.” 

You swallowed thickly and he noticed. 

“I’m sorry. I always just assumed it was me, that I had done something.” 

You whispered, almost inaudibly. But, he heard you, loud and clear. 

“What? What could you possibly have done?” 

He asked incredulously. 

“I-I don’t know.” 

You looked down at your feet, afraid of what he was going to say next, not wanting this intimacy with him to become foreign and far off again. He gently lifted your chin so your eyes could meet his. 

“You never did anything wrong and this is not a game. I’m not going anywhere, I promise.” 

He reassured you gently. 

“I appreciate you reassuring me, but it’s going to take a lot more than words for me to trust you again and I think you know that.” 

You replied, giving him the kindest smile you could muster up. It wasn’t your intention to be rude or mean to him, you just needed him to know where you stood. 

“I know. I’m sorry that I broke your trust, but I hope you know I’m going to spend every day trying to make things right between us.” 

“Okay, Cameron.”

You smiled nudging his shoulder. You made your way back to the parking lot with Rafe, not long after the conversation fizzled out. 

“Well, I think I’m gonna head home. This was fun.” 

You said with a sweet smile. 

“Let me drive you, I know you walked, you always walk here.”  

Rafe spoke, excitement in his voice. 

“Okay.” 

You agreed to his idea, smiling kindly his way, following him to the truck you had made your home ever since he had gotten his license. He was the first of the two of you to be able to drive and you had taken full advantage of that, waiting for him after football practices and in the early morning so he could cart you everywhere you needed to go. That was the first thing you missed when he had left you - the intimate car rides, where you experienced a version of Rafe that no one else got to. He opened the door for you, ushering you into the passenger seat and closing it once he made sure you were inside and comfortable. Making his way around to the driver’s side, he took his keys out of his pocket and climbed in, starting the truck. The engine roared, sending vibrations through your spine. It felt euphoric to be here, alone with him. Which was something you had dreamed about for so long. He pulled out of the beach parking lot, hands steady on the wheel, and began the trek to his neighborhood. Tannyhill had become your second home over the years, whether it was play dates with Rafe when you were six or trying on clothes with Sarah when you were fifteen, the Camerons were your family and you were thankful that your favorite one was seated next to you, a backward baseball cap sitting on his head and strong arms fixed on the wheel. You’d never get over the view. 

“Y/N?”

He spoke your name with a question in mind. 

“Yeah?”

You smiled in his direction. 

“Would you wanna come to dinner tomorrow at Tannyhill?”

He asked gently. 

“Sure, you know I never pass up Rose’s cooking! What’s the occasion?” 

You questioned with a giggle, it was the sweetest sound he’d ever heard.

“Just having you back, I guess.” 

He smiled sheepishly. 

“That’s sweet, Rafe.” 

You spoke softly, the blush coating your freckled cheeks. 

“Your parents are going to be there, so I figured you could just join them and we can have a big family dinner.” 

“Why are my parents going to be there?”

You questioned, confused at his comment. 

“Uh, Ward said he and your dad are working on some big business project or something.” 

He replied, not really knowing the answer to what you were asking. He had no idea what the two men were up to. 

“Ah, okay. Sure, Rafe, I’d love to come. How fancy do I have to dress, 1-10 on the fancy scale?” 

The laugh that escaped his lungs was boisterous. You and Rafe had created the fancy scale after you got bitched out by your dad’s for not dressing appropriately for Midsummer’s in the eighth grade and ever since you always warned each other of the fancy level parties or dinners would be. 

“A solid 5.” 

He retorted a laugh ever-present on his lips. He forgot how much you made him laugh and how good it felt. He was brought out of his thoughts as he pulled into the driveway, spotting your car sitting right next to your dad’s. 

“This has been fun! I missed you.” 

You spoke softly and a smile danced across Rafe’s features. 

“I missed you too, Y/N.” 

Your eyes studied his face, looking for any inkling of deception. There were none, at least not that you could see. His eyes met yours, locking in on your face and not looking away. You swallowed thickly, unsure of what to do. Having his full attention was not something you were used to anymore. 

“Thank you, Rafe. I seriously had a really good time tonight. We will do a movie night soon.” 

“Of course, you’re still my favorite girl.” 

He smiled kindly, ushering you over to your front door, lingering for moments longer than he should have, but not wanting to let you out of your sight. 

- 

Your phone rang early the next morning and as you groaned loudly, willing whoever was making your phone ring at 7 am to die, you read the contact. It was Topper. Your sluggish fingers slowly but surely slid across the screen to see what in God’s name your best friend wanted this early. 

“H-hello?”

You grumbled. 

“Wake your ass up!” 

Topper yelled into the phone. 

“T-top. I’m about three seconds from killing you. Why are you screaming into my phone so early?” 

You questioned with annoyance. 

“Get up and get dressed. We’re outside your house.” 

He said plainly. 

“Who’s we? And for what? It’s fucking 7 am?!” 

“Don’t be grumpy, princess. We just want to spend the day with your sexy little self.” 

Kelce interjected. 

“Kelce, please shut up. I’m not awake enough for your bullshit attempts at flirting with me.” 

You grumbled with a sneer behind that phone that he couldn’t see. 

“Damn, you’re a spitfire today!” 

Topper exclaimed, laughing. 

“I was up late, okay? Jesus Christ.” 

You couldn’t believe he was being so mean to you this early in the day. 

“Okay, well get up, get dressed and pack insulin and some snacks. We’re going to be gone all day.” 

He replied. 

“Top, I can’t. I have this dinner with Rafe tonight, I can’t be gone all day.” 

You were nervous to be saying anything to Topper about it at all, he knew your history with Rafe better than anyone. But, you knew you had to tell him the truth. 

“Listen, idiot, Rafe is with us. So, come on. We’ll have you both back at Tannyhill in time for your dinner, so either pack a dress or wear one. You’re not missing this.” 

You rolled your eyes, but your heart leapt at hearing you were going to spend the day with Rafe by your side whether it was in a group setting or not. 

“Fine, I’m coming, Topper! Jesus.” 

You said, feigning annoyance. 

“Told you she’s not a morning person.”

Rafe interjected, giggling. 

You grinned to yourself, realizing you were going to get to spend an entire day and night with Rafe. Scurrying out of bed, you searched through your closet in a hurry and settled on wearing a baby blue sundress with white polka dots that Rafe got you for your birthday the summer before you started high school. He always said that baby blue was your color. You slid it on quickly, pairing it with white platform sneakers and some dainty gold jewelry. You fluffed your hair and quickly packed your insulin after changing your insulin pump site and choosing a new area of your stomach to plunge the needle into. You ran through the kitchen, grabbing a few snacks and some juice to throw in your bag. Before walking out the door to Topper’s jeep, you stopped, took a breath, and smoothed your dress and hair before stepping out of the house and opening the back passenger door, hopping in, to be met with a very tired Rafe Cameron. 

“Hey, sweet cheeks! Are you done being an asshole? I need my morning kiss.” 

Kelce gave you a sly smirk and Rafe chuckled to himself, knowing pushing your buttons this early was not a good idea. 

“Kelceo, Fuck off!” 

You exclaimed with a growl, letting him know you weren’t in the mood. 

“Fine, I’ll chill. Can you blame me? Look at that dress.” 

He continued his train of putting his foot in his mouth. 

“Kelce, cool it, man.” 

Rafe spoke, his tone laced with warning. His protective nature made you smile. 

“So, what’s so important that you drug me out of bed at 7 am on a Saturday?” 

You questioned Topper. 

“My mom set us up on a tour of UNC like months ago and I forgot to tell you until this morning.” 

He replied nonchalantly, as if it wasn’t absolutely unhinged to let you know the morning of – in a way that only Topper knows how. 

“Topper, I’m going to kill you.” 

You muttered. You truly couldn’t think of a better way to spend a Saturday, your three favorite boys, and a four-hour-long road trip. Truthfully, what could go wrong? 

You were brought out of your thoughts by Rafe’s hand touching your elbow. 

“Y/N?”

He was saying your name in question again. 

“Sorry, I was zoned out. What’s up?” 

You asked. 

“Have you eaten yet?” 

He asked in a gentle, hushed tone not wanting to draw everyone's attention to the two of you. 

“No.” 

You replied just as quietly. 

“Go ahead and eat, okay? I read that being up on your feet all day can be hard on your body.” 

You were shell shocked for just a second – he cared enough to read about what your life is like?

“You’ve been reading about diabetes?”

You questioned. 

“Of course I have, you’re my favorite girl.” 

He said it again. 

“Thanks, Rafe. That’s so sweet.” 

He smiled in response and watched as you took the banana out of your bag and began to eat it. When you finished, Topper was pulling into a gas station and asked you to come in with him to pick out some snacks while Rafe and Kelce pumped gas. As you made your way inside, rummaging through the aisles of various snacks, Topper began the inevitable best friend questioning that you knew was bound to happen eventually. 

“So, you and Cameron, huh?”

He teased, knowing your history of being in love with him since you were six. 

“I don’t think he feels that way. I’m just happy to have him back.” 

You gave Topper a kind smile. 

“So, what happened? I mean was there a conversation? Did he at least apologize?” 

“Yeah, Top. He did.” 

You said, matter-of-factly. 

“Y/N, if you don’t tell me everything right now, I’m going to fucking combust.” 

He said with urgency as he giggled. 

“Okay, okay. Jesus! So, we met up at our spot the day after the party and he told me the truth. I have a feeling that it’s not all of it, but he seemed genuine and i’m assuming it’ll all come out in layers over time.” 

“Why do you say that?” 

He questioned with curiosity. 

“Because it seemed like there was more to the story, more to tell. I got a very shrunken down version.” 

You replied.

“Well, if you need me to beat his ass I will. You just let me know.” 

He spoke with a devilish smirk that you knew meant he was both serious and joking. 

“Thanks, Top.” 

You laughed. 

“Of course, you know I always have your back.” 

He replied, snaking an arm around your shoulders. 

“Anyways, so we talked about the drugs and why he felt like he couldn’t talk to me, and then he told me he was sorry and he wanted to be friends again. He drove me home and asked me to come to dinner tonight at Tannyhill. I said, yes, so here we are. Oh, and I told him about me being sick at the party-”

“You did what?!” 

You were cut off with an incredulous question and raised eyebrows from Topper. 

“Yeah, I told him a little about getting sick when we ended things and he didn’t even run like I thought he would.” 

You said with a soft, sweet smile. Topper couldn’t remember the last time he had seen you smile like that. 

“I told you he wouldn’t. He loves you.” 

He replied easily, the truth of the words flew out of his mouth so effortlessly. 

“Yeah, we’ll see. I’m not 100% on board yet. I don’t want to get my hopes up and then he runs away again.” 

Topper shrugged, he couldn’t disagree with your reservations after the last couple years you’d had. You’d been through so much. All he wanted was to see you happy and he knew if the timing was right Rafe would treat you so well. He’d truly changed. 

“That’s understandable and valid. Just don’t write him off yet. He might surprise you.” 

He said with an easy smile. 

“Thanks, Top.” 

The two of you shared a hug after exiting the convenience store, with snacks in hand. As you made your way back to the jeep, Rafe admired your form, watching the wind raking through the skirt of your dress. 

“Welcome back, pretty girl. Are you ready for our morning kiss, yet?” 

Kelce asked again, sweetly this time. He was starting to get on your nerves. 

“Kelceo, cool it.” 

Topper stated, climbing into the driver's seat. Kelce was annoying everyone today, kidding or not. 

You climbed into the backseat again, plopping down next to Rafe. His sparkling blue eyes took in your smiling form as you tore into a bag of popcorn. 

“How are you feeling, sweet girl?” 

Rafe questioned, studying your form with his piercing blue eyes. Sweet girl. You hadn’t heard that in a long time and it felt warm against your ears.

“I’m feeling pretty good right now. But, my sugar is low.” 

You smiled in his direction. 

“How do you know it’s low?” 

He asked with genuine curiosity. 

“I have this app on my phone, see.” 

You turned your phone screen around, which displayed your glucose monitor’s readings. Your blood sugar was low, reading 76 mg/dL. Which was not low enough to warrant panic, but also not high enough to be considered normal.  

“So, if 76 is low, what’s considered normal?” 

Rafe probed in a genuinely curious fashion.

“Generally, the goal is to keep the daytime blood sugar levels before meals between 80 and 130 mg. But, after-meal numbers are a little bit higher but shouldn’t be more than 180 mg.” 

You explained simply. 

“Oh, okay. That makes sense. Will you tell me if you start to feel bad?” 

He questioned. It made you smile that you seemed to be falling back into your rhythm so easily. 

“I won’t have to. You’ll know. But, I promise I will.” 

You gave him a reassuring smile and grabbed his hand, squeezing it. The touch, though short-lived, was electric and you wondered if he felt it too. The music topper was playing lulled you to sleep all of thirty minutes into the road trip and you were beginning to stir as soon as he pulled into the UNC visitor’s parking lot.

“Wake up, sleepyhead.” 

Rafe ran his fingers through your hair, scratching it in a circular motion. Your favorite way to wake up. When you opened your eyes, you jolted up, embarrassed, realizing your head was on Rafe’s shoulder and drool was pooling at the corner of your mouth, dripping onto the gray t-shirt he was wearing. You turned your head towards him with apologetic eyes as you took in his face, the sweet disposition oozing out of him, as his eyes smiled at you before his mouth did. 

“I’m sorry I drooled on you.”

You spoke sheepishly. 

“Hey, it’s okay. Not the first time, definitely won’t be the last.” 

He chuckled, giving you his classic Rafe Cameron smile before getting out of Topper’s jeep and making his way to the passenger side to open yours for you. As you began to climb out of the car, he picked up your bag, carrying it for you. 

“Thanks, Rafe. You don’t have to carry it, though.”

You said, beaming up at him. 

“You look so pretty today, I think I’d do anything you asked of me.” 

He blurted out without thinking and your eyes went wide as your cheeks filled with a blush. 

“You are so sweet, Rafe. Thank you.” 

He nodded and smiled your way, yet again. 

“I’ll carry it. It will make me feel better if you have a glucose emergency if I know where it is.” 

He stated, matter-of-factly, as he placed the brown leather backpack on his shoulder. His words created a flutter in your stomach. 

“Okay, losers! Come on, we gotta check-in at the visitor’s center.” 

Topper remarked. You and Rafe began following him and Kelce to the front of the building. Topper quickly went inside and left the three of you waiting on the steps as he went to collect your program information, campus maps, and name tags. When he came back out of the door, he handed each of you your designated packets of information and began explaining what the game plan was. 

“Okay, so in each of these packets is information specific to your major. Y/N and Rafe, you’re in a group and then me and Kelce are in a group because our majors and buildings are on the same sides of campus. Go through the packet, it’s got a scavenger hunt and then instructions for meeting the bigger tour group after lunch. We will see you guys then.” 

He finished what he was saying and Rafe was already moving, ready to get away from Topper and Kelce and celebrate his alone time with you. 

“Okay, sounds good.” 

Rafe spoke, taking the packet of information from Topper’s hands, and turning to you with a smile. 

“You ready?” 

He questioned with a smile. 

“As I'll ever be, lead the way, Cameron.” 

You gestured to the sidewalk in front of you, beaming up at his tall form, opting to go the opposite direction of Kelce and Topper. 

Topper and Kelce quickly scurried off, putting you and Rafe alone again, finally. You love the other two stooges with every fiber of your being, but you’d always loved Rafe more. If soulmates were a thing, he was yours in a platonic way of course, because there’s no way he felt about you the way you felt about him. You were okay with that. Rafe in any way, shape, or form was enough for you, as long as you had him in some way, you’d be okay. As Rafe began talking to you, you were brought out of your daydream. 

“So, what do you want to hit first, the football field?” 

He asked sarcasm present in his tone, though playful and innocent. 

“Sure, if you’re gonna be playing here, we should check it out first.” 

You gave him a small smile. 

“Are you thinking about coming here in all seriousness?” 

“Yeah, I was offered a full scholarship for cheer and academics pending my final grades next year.” 

“What?! That’s amazing, Y/N!” 

“Thanks, Rafe. I wish my brother thought so.” 

“What do you mean? Hasn’t he wanted you to go to UNC like forever?” 

He asked, confusion ever-present in his voice. 

“I mean, yeah. He’s just been different ever since I got sick.” 

“What do you mean?”

He questioned. 

“It’s like most of the time, I’m a bug he’s trying to swat away.” 

You replied with nonchalance, though Rafe could register the pain in your voice. 

“Maybe he just worries about you?” 

He asked, suggestively. 

“Maybe. I don’t know. You’ll see tonight what I mean.” 

You muttered. 

“Well if it makes you feel any better, we’ll be here together. At UNC, I mean.” 

He said with a sweet smile. 

“Really?!” 

The joy that riddled your face made Rafe smile. 

“Yeah, I’ve got some scouts coming to see me play in the fall and I’m excited. UNC is my dream school, though. So even if I have to be a walk-on or not play at all, I’ll still be coming here. They’ve already given me a scholarship.” 

“As they should, Mr. Valedictorian.” 

You smiled brightly at him. 

“Hey, how do you know I’m valedictorian?!” 

He chuckled but was surprised. He had never talked to anyone about his class standing. 

“Well, I did some digging after realizing I was second in our class, and to my surprise, my favorite Cameron was the one that beat me out.” 

You gave him a sly smile. 

“Since when am I your favorite Cameron?” 

He asked jokingly, though the notion made his heart soar. 

“Since always.” 

“Oh, come on! You and Sarah have been thick as thieves for the last two years.” 

“Maybe. Sarah’s always been a good friend to me. Topper and Kelce too. But, you’ve always been number one in my heart, I hope you know that.” 

The kindness exuded from your eyes. You meant every word. 

“You’re something else, you know that.” 

He chuckled, but you suddenly felt like you had said the wrong thing, swallowing thickly. He observed your form, realizing where your mind had gone. 

“No, no, I mean that in a good way. There’s just no one like you. You’ve always been just so perfect. It’s hard to measure up.” 

“It’s a facade, trust me.” 

You spoke, rolling your eyes at the notion that anything that had anything to do with you was in the same category as perfect. You were brought out of your thoughts as the two of you made your way to the entrance of the football field, following other students into the gates. Rafe looked on in awe at what would be his stomping grounds in just a few short years, his eyes sparkled as he daydreamed about the baby blue uniform he’d get to wear with his name and number sewn into the back. He’d get to matter here. He’d get to be somebody other than Ward Cameron’s son. He’d hope to make you his girl, here. But, quickly pushed that thought down as you began speaking to him. 

“What? Are you imagining all of your fans screaming your name? All the girls throwing themselves at you?”

You chuckled. 

“Nope. Just one.” 

“Shutup! Who is it, Cameron? You have to tell me!” 

“You’ll know soon enough, you know how bad I am with secrets.” 

You giggled and its music to his ears. 

“Boy do I! Remember that time in second grade when we brought that puppy to my house from the street and we were only able to hide it from my mom for three hours before you blabbered?!” 

“Not my best secret-keeping moment.”

He chuckled, remembering that day with you. Your soft curls that too often fell on your face and the look of pure fear in your eyes when your mom found out about the puppy. 

“That was a good day.” 

You spoke softly. 

“Yeah, it was.” 

The two of you stood side by side, Rafe’s shoulders towering over you, as you both looked onto the field that would be your home for four years. Excitement stirred in your gut at the chance to get out of the Outer Banks, out of Kildare fucking county with your best friends in the entire world and you simply, couldn’t wait. You hoped the next two years would fly by so you could get out of your hometown, finally fall in love, and forget that Kooks and Pogues even existed. 

“Okay, Cameron. Let’s go check out the buildings where our classes will be.” 

“Sounds good, pretty girl.” 

He smiled at you and placed his hand on the small of your back as he led you out of the stadium and back to the quad. Once you made it away from the large crowd inhabiting the stadium, you probed Rafe with another question. 

“So, what are you majoring in, big guy?” 

“I haven’t fully decided. Dad wants me to be a business and marketing major, but I am really into the idea of English lit. What about you?” 

“I’m English Literature with a concentration in creative writing and a minor in entrepreneurship.” 

“Nice! What do you want to do with that?” 

He probed, curious about your career path. 

“I’m not sure, yet. Maybe teach English or become a writer. All I know is that writing and reading makes me feel alive and I’d like to chase that high as long as I can.” 

“We don’t read and write poetry because it’s cute. We read and write poetry because we are members of the human race. And the human race is filled with passion. And medicine, law, business, engineering, these are noble pursuits and necessary to sustain life. But poetry, beauty, romance, love, these are what we stay alive for.”

You instantly recognized the words he was stringing together into a sentence. 

“Rafe Cameron, are you quoting Dead Poets Society to me?” 

You smiled so widely at him. This version of Rafe was different. It was one you had seen glimpses of over the years, but this one, he was your person. You were sure of it. 

“Don’t all the guys you talk to do that?” 

“What? Do you mean the ever-so-educated JJ Maybank who cares about feelings and reading? Yeah, no. I can’t say that they do.” 

You scoffed into a laugh at Rafe’s joke slash question. 

“Okay, that’s fair.” 

He said, letting out a boisterous belly laugh. 

“Let’s go look at the Business Administration building first.�� 

You suggested and Rafe agreed with your idea. Since you both would have classes in both buildings, it truly didn’t matter which you explored first. As you made your way to the building across the quad, your phone started dinging. Your stupid blood sugar, ruining things again. 

“What’s that noise?” 

Rafe questioned. 

“It’s my glucose monitor on my phone. It’s low again.” 

You looked on at him, defeated. He gently lifted your bag off of his shoulders and took your phone out and looked down at the readings. 76 mg, way too low for his comfort and probably for yours too. 

“It’s 76 mg, Y/N. What do I need to do?” 

“Look for anything in my bag with carbs and I'll check again in 15 minutes.” 

You reply without the urgency that Rafe is feeling. 

“Okay, let’s sit down for the time being. You don’t look like you feel great.” 

He motioned to the bench, just off the sidewalk, close to the arboretum. He knew you wanted to see it before you left campus today, so this was the perfect spot. 

“I’m okay, just sluggish. I thought I was just tired from last night.” 

You let Rafe lead you to sit, his hand on the small of your back. You took his hand as he motioned you down onto the bench and he felt you shaking. Rafe looked through the bag, examining its contents, quickly. 

“Okay, there’s bread and a banana. Which is better?” 

“Give me the bread. It’s this banana nut bread I make every week.” 

“You amaze me you know that?” 

He gave you a soft smile and unwrapped the bread from the Ziploc bag it sat in, handing it to you. 

“Thank you, Rafe, really, it means the world to have you here and to have your help.” 

“Anything for you, I mean that. Are you thirsty?” 

“Yeah, there’s water in there, too.” 

He nodded, reaching back into the bag to retrieve the water bottle and handing it to you. 

“After we get your levels back up, let’s go into the arboretum, and then we will grab some lunch.” 

“Sure, thanks, Rafe. I love the Arboretum here, it’s so beautiful!” 

“Yeah, I know. You’ve only been talking about visiting it since we were ten.” 

“You remember that?” 

“I remember everything you tell me.” 

You blushed at his confession. You sat there, just chatting back and forth for the fifteen minutes it took for the food to settle before you checked your blood sugar again. Rafe pulled your phone back out of your bag and looked at the screen. 100 mg. We’re back in business baby!

“88 mg, back to normal, pretty girl.” 

He spoke, blush coating your cheeks and you watched the corners of his mouth turn up in a smile. 

“Thanks, Rafe. You’ve been so good about all of this. It scares most people.” 

You thank him sheepishly. 

“I’m not most people, you know that.” 

He stood up from the bench, placing your backpack on his shoulders once more, and gently took your hand in his, lifting you to your feet. He led you to the sidewalk and you began your trek to the arboretum, his hand on the small of your back once again. You tried not to read too much into his hands constantly being close to you, you and Rafe had always had an intimate relationship that was very hands-on. As you made your way toward the greenhouse, you felt a raindrop hit your nose and before your brain could process what your orbs had just taken in, the bottom of the sky fell out and rain poured from the sky. The same way your eyes leaked when you and Rafe had stopped speaking. As the rain-drenched your clothes, you and Rafe shared a mischievous look, before he grabbed your hand and you both took off running toward your destination. It seemed like you had been running forever when you made it inside the doors of the greenhouse. Once you finally shook the water off of your bodies, reminiscent of a wet dog shaking his fur violently, you had a minute to take Rafe in. The light from the lightning lit up his drenched features. He took his baseball cap off, shaking it out and ringing out the water from his shirt. As he turned to look at you, you moved into him, eyes locking with his, his tall muscular form standing over you. You’re not sure what’s come over you, maybe it’s the care he’s shown you or how different he is now. But, you couldn’t take too much time to process what you were feeling or what you were thinking. The next few moments felt like a scene from a movie, as you placed your hands on his cheeks and kissed his lips, deeply, a moan escaping your lips. He was quick to pull away, bewilderment in his eyes. 

“I-I’m sorry, Rafe. I read the signals wrong.” 

“I’m not sorry because you didn’t misread anything.” 

And just like that, Rafe Cameron was kissing you, gently, deeply, madly, clothes drenched in rainwater and with ecstasy-filled eyes. Rafe Goddamn Cameron was kissing you and you fucking loved it. 

taglist:

@maybankslover @inthelibrarybtw @luvrcndy @silkylovey @yagirlwrites @obxbabygirl @rafeecameronsbitch @klutzy-kay24 @roseczbalt

[tumbling-darkling]

Miraculous Ghosts

Danny and friends visit Paris and come across trouble, as well as the cities local superheroes.

Lately, Hawkmoth has been recycling villains. There are only so many people in Paris and not everyone gets emotionally vulnerable strongly enough or long enough to be akumatized. Those that do, and commonly like Mr. Pidgeon, usually had a certain fixation that was easy to exploit. The thing was, both Marienette and Chat Noir already knew their weakness, the items that would most likely get akumatized, the whole schtick. So the battles were really fast and easy.

A new face always had to be met with caution, the lack of knowledge regarding the person was dangerous and if the pair wasn’t careful, they could end up losing the battle. And their Miraculous.

With the start of summer came tourist season, and tourists could be victims of akumatization. Which seemed to be the case within the first week. 3 villains, all new faces, but the pair had gotten lucky with the similar powers that the heroes had faced before and the three were all defeated in a timely manner.

There was a short week of nothing happening.

And then all hell broke loose.

—————————————————————

Marienette knew the start of the tourist season had begun just based on the filled streets of strange faces, sunglasses, cameras, and the use of foreign languages. This also was noticed based on how busy her parents' shop had become, and how rarely she was managing to escape outside to enjoy some of summer's freedom. The good thing was she was able to brush up on some of her English, since the tourists usually spoke the common American language and the experience was always welcome to help boost her grades in the upcoming year. Even if it was a few months away.

She’d figured out the best way to sneak off during any attacks was to ‘use the bathroom’ or ‘accidently’ make a mess and excuse herself to clean up. It had worked during the first week and she didn’t have to do anything the past week since Hawkmoth seemed to take a break. She finished serving a young pair of Americans, a tall girl with orange hair, and a lanky boy nearly the same height with raven black hair.

She had to admit, some Americans had a certain charm, but the bustle of the kitchen quickly caught her attention as she was back to serving the next person in line.

Just as Chloe waltzed in, basically knocking the american boy over as she strutted to the front of the line, causing people to cast glares in her direction. The boy hissed when he fell, the American girl offering to help him up in English as he shook his head and stood up, dusting himself off as Marienette went to deal with the walking form of pure rich privilege. “Urg, Dupain-Cheng’s dingy little cafe? Of course she works here, it just smells like burnt bread.” She huffed.

Marienette bristled, but put on her customer service smile, noticing the poor Americans victim to Chloe leaving the shop. She was hoping to offer them a replacement after dealing with Chloe but it was a little late now. “Ma’am, unless you are here to pick up an order, you will have to wait in line like everyone else.” She strained.

“Ma’am? I am Chloe Dubois! I don’t need to wait in line like some sort of peasant! Just give me whatever you didn’t make.”

Marienette had to swallow down any returning insults and put down one of their most expensive items, handing it over with a clearly strained smile, “have a nice day.”

Chloe huffed with her baked goods in hand but left as soon as she appeared, allowing Marienette some relief. Very little damage. A little annoyance but nothing worthy of an akuma-.

An explosion was heard from outside, and Marienette groaned internally.

She just had to jinx it.

—————————————————————

Ladybug dove off to the side as the villain shot out a ray of white, plasma-like energy. Adrien, fighting as Chat Noir, and his partner were having a hell of a time with this dude. He spotted the chaos on the news, the villain calling himself ‘Black Hole’ and giving his poor Lady a hard time. When he finally arrived on the scene, he wasn’t able to do much either.

The villain was basically a godly powerhouse, floating in the air, shooting burning rays of heated plasma, or even ice! Ice and plasma! Sometimes he MIXED the two beams to create an even WORSE beam! Whenever either of the heroes got close enough to land a hit, their punches and kicks would go right through him. Then he would DISAPPEAR. REAPPEARING AND LANDING ANOTHER HEAVY BLOW. He would fly around like gravity was non-existent, and these abilities didn’t stop there. Every so often, he would yank out this thermos looking thing and shoot out these wormholes. Or… possibly black holes. Calling them black holes felt wrong though… since they glowed green and swirled before disappearing after a few moments.

The villain's outfit was a change of pace too. It was impossible to figure out his age since he was completely covered in a thick fabric material that reminded him of space suits. Yet looked a lot less bulky than actual space suits, thin yet sturdy metal covered his forearms, and formed a backpack that was attached by a wide metal collar that spread to his collarbone and slightly covered his shoulders, as well as a metal strap that wrapped around right under his chest. A plated, metal belt circled his waist with a clip for the green black hole thermos, and thigh high boots with a similar fabric to his suit covered most of his legs, thick plastic looking platform soles attached at the feet. Black bands wrapped around the ankles of the boots. A helmet covered his entire face, a metal frame covering the bottom half like a muzzle while the top was a tinted glass dome following the shape of his head, the inside of it entirely black except for the eerie glow of a single, left eye. The helmet had a tube on the back of the helmet that connected to his backpack, but neither he or Ladybug could figure out if it was essential or for decoration. His entire colouring was monotone, much bleaker than their previous villains. His suit was black, the boots, forearm cuffs, belt, backpack and collar were all a middle shade of grey, the only flash of colour being the glow of the single toxic green eye amongst the darkness of the helmet.

The dude was disturbing. He didn’t make any sound, in fact he seemed to ABSORB the sound around him. Like they were in space.

Paris was getting destroyed more and more by the second and the two didn’t know what to do. The Lady’s lucky charm turned into a thermos, which she didn’t have a clue how to use in the situation in front of them. Maybe it was a hint? A clue about soup? Or getting the villains thermos?

The problem with the last idea was that neither he or Ladybug could TOUCH this villain. And each of them were getting worse and worse for wear by the second. He could tell Ladybug was getting ready to get some sort of help, but who could make something untouchable… touchable? Chat even tried to use cataclysm on the villain's thermos while Ladybug had distracted him, but he twisted at the last moments and grabbed Chat's hand, draining cataclysm before he tossed him aside like it was nothing.

Another blast of plasma sent the two tumbling away from each other, and then a blast of ice caught Chat off guard. Cold shot up his arm as his muscles convulsed, a scream caught in his throat as the ice trapped his arm in such a tight and sturdy prison. He twisted to try and use his free arm to claw the other out of the ice, a shadow in the corner of his vision causing him to twist and jolt in surprise as the villain stood right in front of him. The glowing green eye was cold as it bore into him, and the villain grew closer and closer, drifting off the ground and absorbing every noise around him, the air around them dropping to freezing temperatures. Chats breath formed in front of him as gasps, panic clear in the quick breaths, fear intensifying as the only thing he could hear was his own heartbeat and blood roaring through his veins.

The villain's hand shot out and grabbed his free one- the one with his miraculous.

Chat heard Ladybug cry out as the villain gripped onto the ring, a quick glance showing she too was trapped.

That she was next.

Chat tried to keep his fingers curled, but he was battered and weak, and the villain hadn’t even broken a sweat during their fight. Prying open his fingers was easy, the ring vulnerable. This was it. He used cataclysm too soon and now he was powerless. He couldn’t escape. He couldn’t save anyone. He was a failure. This was the end of Paris.

They lost.

—————————————————————

Fucking. Vlad.

This entire trip had Danny on edge and it was all because of Vlad.

At first, he thought maybe, for once, Vlad wasn’t being a piece of shit when offering the family a fully paid trip to France for two weeks. He was suspicious. He probably just wanted the family out of town to do some shady shit. But a two week trip to France wasn’t the WORST thing a man could do. Especially in comparison to kidnapping and cloning.

But then his parents got sick. A common flu. Right before the trip. And they wanted Jazz and him to experience Paris. Then Vlad offered to be a chaperone.

It was all a play to get Danny alone for two weeks and try and manipulate him.

He did manage to get Tucker and Sam to tag along, something about friends being his family and the two unused tickets his parents left behind. But Vlad knew how to separate the group. How to corner Danny at the worst moments and whisper annoying remarks in his ear as he tried to get away.

He survived a week. He only had one more week to go. Tucker and Sam were off checking out some places for lunch while Jazz and Danny went to pick up sweets for everyone to share after their meal.

Vlad was off doing who knew what so Danny had put him to the back of his mind.

The cafe they found was… well it smelled incredible. There were so many baked goods on display and the air was filled with the warm and sweet smell of the goodies. He let Jazz do most of the talking, she wanted to practice her French and Danny had recently discovered that being dubbed the ghost king meant that now he had a natural grasp on all verbal languages, including the dead ones. This meant his speech in French was almost flawless, and his understanding was like he was listening to someone speak English. He couldn’t read other languages though, just speak them. He was told though by a few locals he had an odd accent. It wasn’t an american one, just… odd.

So Jazz ordered the treats and the pair was headed out to meet Danny’s friends.

Then some blonde girl with way too much make-up basically knocked him to the ground, not even sending him a glance that indicated she knew what she did. It was annoying, but he dealt with bullies on a daily basis back at Amity Park. Well… used to. But he knew better than to waste any thought on some jerk like her. He sadly looked at the ruined cat paw shaped cookies, the icing ruined and the cookies crushed under his weight when he fell.

Standing up with the help of Jazz, they left the shop as Danny insisted on finding somewhere to wash off the icing stuck to his shirt. He liked this shirt too… he hoped it wouldn’t stain too badly. It was better than ectoplasm at least, that stuff needed to be burned out, there was no such thing as washing out ectoplasm.

Jazz asked to help, but Danny brushed her off, telling her he could easily clean himself off by himself.

And then Vlad chose that moment to corner him.

—————————————————————

“Hello Daniel.”

Danny splashed water wildly as he spun around to glare at the older Halfa, hissing out an ‘Ancients!’ in surprise. “What the hell, Vlad?” He spat, “sneaking up on a kid in the bathroom? I should just call the police and tell them about all that stalking you like to do.”

“Aren’t you tired of this childish game?” He hummed.

“Not really, seeing as I’m a child and I love games,” Danny sneered.

“I’m older, more experienced, and stronger. I am also patient, little badger. And it’s easy to wear you down. By the end of this trip, you are going to be begging to be my-.”

“Son? Pet? Little slave that does everything you ask? Sorry, Vladdy, but I ain’t the type to listen to crazy fruit loops. How about you go enjoy the company of your French rich friends like that Agreste dude instead of stalking me and trying to get with my mom and kill my dad. Might do you some good to make more friends than just your cat.”

“Oh Daniel, you throw your petty insults but I know ways to break you even further. You know, a lot of accidents happen in Paris. Terrible things.”

Danny felt his eyes flash as he spun on his heel, “listen to me, if you even consider-!”

“Not to mention your brand new ghostly responsibilities as… the ghost king? Imagine that. A child as the king. You don’t even know everything about ghosts.”

“Neither do you!” Danny spat.

“Oh but I know so much more. And I could easily teach you-.”

“Just shut up!”

“When you mess up, when the ghost zone begins to fall apart, you will wish you took my offer, but I may not be as forgiving when that happens.”

“I said shut up!”

“And we both know the moment the ghost zone falls apart, so will this world. All because a boy became king and didn’t take help he was so graciously offered.”

“SHUT THE HELL UP!”

Something inside him shifted, and Danny suddenly felt his mind cloud, a deep voice echoed his mind.

“A cruel man harassing a young teen that wants nothing to do with him. A shame when someone can’t take a hint.

Black Hole. I am Hawkmoth. I can give you the power to show this old man that he never should consider looking in your direction ever again.

All I ask is for Ladybug and Chat Noir’s miraculous. Do this for me, and Vlad Masters will never be an issue for you ever again.”

Danny’s clouded mind and building rage smirked at the offer, his voice echoing as he glanced up at Vlad who was giving him a confused look. “Yes, Hawkmoth.”

Darkness engulfed him and then his memory began to fail him.

—————————————————————

A boomerang slammed into Black Hole’s head, causing it to jerk to the side and a small crack formed on the glass that was hit. The metal boomerang dropped to the ground and Black Hole slowly looked down at it as a robotic voice cried out from it, “ghost detected!” And then a recorded voice spouted out, “take that, spook!”

Black Hole’s head slightly tilted at the noise it made, a hand subconsciously rubbing the crack it left behind. Then he twisted his gaze back to Chat Noir, going back to taking the hero’s miraculous.

Then a shout came from behind Black Hole and Chat caught the eyes of a teenage girl yelling and holding a bat over her head. Black Hole twisted, his body turning that transparent look whenever Chat or Ladybug had tried to hit him before, and Chat knew that it was useless. “No! Stop! Get out of here-!” He screamed at the citizen, but stopped when the bat connected with the villain's head and sent him flying into a wall.

Chat was at a loss for words for once in his life, watching the villain slowly pry himself from the wall from being hit by a baseball bat when he and Lady couldn’t land a single hit. He looked back at the citizen and shrieked as she raised the bat above her head and swung down at him, flinching and squeezing his eyes shut. She hit something, causing it to shatter and then- his hand was free!

He opened his eyes and looked at his hand in awe and then back at the girl, “who the heck are you?”

She huffed, dropping the bat casually on her shoulder, “Sam Manson. Friend of the idiot that didn’t do his research before taking a trip here. I’m surprised this didn’t happen earlier.”

Chat blinked, “you- you know that’s your friend? And knew this would happen?”

Sam shrugged, “the booo-merang is never wrong. And yeah, my friend there is not exactly the most emotionally stable person on the planet. Sorry it took us a while to get here. You guys really do move fast.”

Chat just opened and closed his mouth a few times, then yelled as she suddenly swung the bat again and smacked the villain in the gut as he got close during their exchange, knocking him sideways but not down like the first time. Black Hole turned again, making a snarling sound before he was blasted by some sort of green ray and sent flying sideways, rolling along the pavement before smashing into a car. Another teen jogged over with Ladybug behind him, dropping his hands to his knees as he wheezed, “I have ran… way too much for this to be considered a vacation.”

“M’Lady-, what is going on?” Chat asked.

“This is Tucker, and his friend Sam, and they know how to help,” Ladybug quickly explained, glancing back at Black Hole. “We need to draw his attention and get that thermos off of him, then Sam and Tucker can use this,” she held up the thermos from her lucky charm, “and we can get his akuma.”

“Akuma is in the thermos, knock it off,” Chat summarized. He heard his miraculous beeping, a sign he was close to his limit.

“Let’s end this fast.”

—————————————————————

Ladybug held the booo-merang in one hand as the two teens and Chat drew Black Hole’s attention, the teens equipped with weapons that seemed to get past some of Black Holes abilities.

She narrowed her gaze, waiting for the perfect moment, then threw the weapon, watching it arch in the air then knock the thermos off of the villain's waist. The thermos clattered to the ground and drew his attention, he quickly twisted and dove to try and retrieve it, which was when a bright beam erupted from the polka dot thermos Ladybug had given the teens. The beam caught the villain's legs and he was tugged back, his form pulling towards it like taffy as he twisted and a horrid scream of anger burst from him. He tried to escape it, flailing and reaching for anything to hang on to, but in a matter of seconds he was pulled into the canister and Sam slammed the lid shut. The screaming stopped and Ladybug made her way over to Black Hole’s thermos, stomping on it and crushing it, releasing the Akuma hidden inside. With a flick of her wrist her lucky charm turned back into its original form, dumping Black Hole onto the street, then the butterfly was caught and purified, and another click of her miraculous, she let the little bug flutter away harmlessly. With a shout, ‘Miraculous Ladybug!’, everything around them was engulfed in black and red as the damages were undone around them.

At last, the villain's form was released of Hawkmoth's influence and it left a lanky teen laying on the street. He slowly sat up with a groan and a hand to his head and she then realized it was the same teen as from the shop. So once again, this was Chloe’s fault. She turned her attention to the two teens that helped her, noticing Chat let out a hasty farewell and thanks and disappeared around a corner. “Thank you, both of you. Without your help… well, without your help we may have lost that battle. But how in the world did you do that?”

“What the fuck just happened?” The teen groaned, “I feel like the booo-merang smacked me in the head like… fifty times.”

“That’s because I may have smacked you a few times with the fenton creep stick,” Sam shrugged as she helped her friend up who gave her wide eyes in return.

“You fucking what?”

Tucker took a step forward to answer Ladybug’s question, “let's just say back in our town, we have very specific supervillains that have abilities that make it hard for regular attacks to land. So we have specialized gear. Sam and I did a bit of research before heading here and figured if any of us got Akumatized, we may reflect some of those traits.”

“I… see…” Ladybug hummed, “and where did you say you were all from?” The three cast a few glances between each other, but before any of them could answer, her miraculous beeped angrily as she quickly realized she was out of time. “Thank you again for your help, if we could meet again to exchange some of that tech to make sure this never happens again-,” she quickly tried to set up a meet up before Sam held up a hand.

“This won’t happen again. A lot of what happened here is very unique to Amity, so once we finish our vacation, you won’t see this kind of thing ever again.”

Ladybug only had more questions but the angry beeping only forced her to nod and bid a quick farewell before getting out of sight to let Tiki take a rest. Marienette held out a few macaroons for Tiki as her thoughts swirled in her head. The questions about the odd American trio and how they knew how to deal with a villain as unique as Black Hole.

She may be able to corner them later. They did say they had to ‘finish their vacation.’

And in the meantime, it was time to do some research on this place called ‘Amity’.

—————————————————————

Danny didn’t remember a lot of what happened while he was the villain, Black Hole. It was like a dream, he kinda remembered the feeling, vague details, but nothing specific.

What he wished he remembered was whatever he did to Vlad. He must have done something because his memories cut out right after Vlad harassed him in the bathroom and after the event, the froot loop avoided him during the entire trip. Even refused to make eye contact!

What he would give just for a few seconds of that memory! Or for someone to have recorded it!

For now though he got to reap the rewards, flashing his eyes green when Vlad would glance over and causing the man to flinch. Oh man, he was going to abuse this newfound intimidation ability till the bitter end.

[just-a-dumb-gay]

I Love Human Stupidity - Lady Dimitrescu X Reader - 1914 Words

Danger follows the reader wherever they go and Alcina gets the joy of witnessing them have the most disaster filled week.

Tags: Reader gender is not specified, I made Daniela a little bitchy but its funny, 5+1 Things

1 .

For once atop the mountain the weather is beautiful. You and Alcina head into the woods out back for a while. But after lunch you got restless and decided some tree climbing was a good idea. 

Alcina sits on the blanket she brought out and watches with pride as you scale one of the tallest trees with ease. You have your camera around your neck, taking pictures of every strange bug or leaf on your way up. 

You hear Alcina laugh down below when you let out a victory yell as you reach the top of the tree. 

You take a few more pictures, the surrounding woods is a stunning sight from so high up. There's also a few crows nearby that you manage to get some good pictures of. 

A dark cloud has started appearing on the horizon, and it looks like it's heading straight for Castle Dimitrescu. You start making your way down, not exactly in the mood to get caught in any heavy rainfall.

You make your way down the tree mostly with ease. Although your jeans get caught on a branch and wind up with a hole in the left leg, thankfully you are left uninjured.

When you make it nearer the bottom you hang yourself upside down from a branch, peaking your head through the leaves to say hi to Alcina.

"My dear Y/N, whatever are you doing?" She laughs.

You don't reply, you just go to pull yourself back up. But Alcinas' laughter distracts you, making you accidentally grab a weak branch. It snaps off in your hand, causing you to fall the last couple meters out the tree.

You land with a solid thud and Alcina is immediately by your side asking if you're okay. But you can't reply, you landed straight on your back and it knocked the air out of you.

A few painful moments later once you've got your breath back, you look to the branch still in your hand.

"Fuck" is all you say before laughing, 

"Please do not scare me like that." Alcina says, relieved to see you're okay.

2 .

Later in the day you and Alcina are sitting on your shared bed. She is reading and you're attempting to fix the hole in your jeans and a spot where the stitching attacking the sleeve to your shirt came undone as you fell. You were taught from a young age how to sew, but you've never been good at making it look as if there was never a hole at all.

You've already stabbed yourself a few times and Alcina always reminds you to be careful after you mumble swears under your breath. But unfortunately your needle is a little blunt and getting it through your jeans is a much larger task than your shirt. 

You push a little too hard and accidentally stab the needle into the side of your thumb, your much louder swear this time catching Alcinas attention. 

She puts her book down and retrieves a plaster from the bathroom while you're trying to inspect how deep the needle went. 

"That's twice in one day you've hurt yourself." She says as she gently takes your hand and covers the hole.

"Not really my day is it?" You laugh.

"Please at least try to be careful." 

"Believe it or not, I do try." 

Alcina just stares, waiting for an explanation. But the truth is you don't have one, danger just follows you. 

3 .

It's a quiet afternoon in the castle. You're looking around the library, looking for some inspiration to paint. You notice what appears to be a few old sketches of the castle sticking out from books on a top shelf. But there's one problem. They're almost five feet above you.

You look around for a ladder but the only one there looks ancient and ready to break if a rat tried to climb it. So, what do you do instead of asking for help like a normal person? Climb the shelves.

As you begin climbing, Daniela appears next to you nearly scaring you half to death.

"What's all this?" She asks with near to no emotion. 

"Trying to reach those sketches up there." You manage to take your hand off the shelf just long enough to point.

"Now this I want to see." She says making herself comfortable on a nearby arm chair.

You decide to just ignore her and continue your climb. 

You make reasonably quick progress, making it nearly two feet away from your goal, but the higher you go the less of a grip you can get as the books cover more of the shelves.

Pausing for a moment you try and figure out if there's an easier way to do things, but the movement as you look around causes you to lose your grip. You desperately try to grab at anything before you fall but all you succeed in doing is dragging a few books down with you.

As you're laying on the floor you can hear Daniela laughing, almost fully cackling, nearby. And barely a few seconds later you can hear Alcina's footsteps down the hall.

"What's going on here?" Alcina asks, kneeling beside you to make sure you're okay.

"I love human stupidity." Daniela says through laughter.

"Out. Now." Alcina yells, loud enough you're sure any mice in the walls just ran away.

Daniela follows her mothers order and leaves, still laughing the whole time. 

"Are you okay, my love?" Alcina asks once she thinks Daniela is out of earshot, but a loud fake gag comes from the hallway.

"Leave!" Alcina yells in her final warning tone. "What on earth were you trying to do?" She asks, her attention back to you.

"Those damn sketches on the top shelf are being stubborn." You sigh.

Alcina rolls her eyes fondly before helping you up. As you're dusting yourself off, Alcina hands you the sketches.

"Next time please ask for help." She says softly.

You pause for a moment and then simply reply with "Maybe." 

4 .

And much to Alcina's frustration, you did not ask for help the next time something was on a high shelf.

You're attempting to make yourself a late night snack, really craving pancakes for some reason you can't figure out. Daniela and the others are out hunting and as far as you're aware Alcina is in your room halfway across the other side of the castle.

You've got everything prepared. Except for the flour and sugar. Which are both on the top shelf. 

This time you're smart enough to use a chair to stand on. And all seems to start well, you get the sugar down with ease. But as you stretch on your toes to get the flour you lose your balance.

You fall to the ground, accidentally kicking the chair over as you fall. And you land with your stomach upwards covered in flour. 

You sigh in defeat, creating a flour cloud above you, and as you're wondering how you're going to explain this to Alcina the kitchen door opens.

"Y/N, I was just coming to check on you when I heard the crash. Are you okay?"

"No." You say weakly.

Alcina is immediately beside you again, checking for injuries. When You sigh again and say "I don't think there's enough flour left for pancakes." as sadly as you can manage.

Alcina looks down at you and all she can say is "What am I going to do with you?" while smiling.

5 .

You've known since you arrived at the castle that there's multiple hidden passages in the walls. From the small amount of knowledge you have of the castle's structure you've figured out the passages would be only just big enough for an ordinary sized human which is why Alcina never uses them but Daniela can be found using them to sneak around to avoid trouble.

Alcina never wanted you to explore them, she doesn't know what kind of bugs or rats are hidden in them and considering how often danger follows you she doesn't want you to get hurt. 

But eventually after a lot of asking, she handed you a torch and led you to the hidden entrance that leads to all the other passages. She leaves to read a book and allows you to explore at your own pace, and as she's walking away she warns you to be careful.

For the most part you do well guessing which room each passage ends in, and so far the hidden doors have been fairly easy to open except for a few which you've had to squeeze your way out of.

You reach the end of the final passage which you think has led you to the library, where Alcina currently is. 

You start to push the door open and quickly realize it's going to be one of the stubborn ones. You manage to squeeze half your body out, but then the worst happens. You get stuck. 

You take a moment to try and push the door, but even with your full weight it barely budged so now it's not even slightly moving. 

Alcina hears you attempting to kick the door and comes to check on you, and immediately starts laughing when she sees the position you're in.

"This is not your week is it?" She teases.

"It really isn't." You say as you toss your torch onto a nearby chair and continue trying to wiggle yourself free.

Alcina watches you for a moment to see if you can free yourself without help, but after a moment you sigh in defeat and ask her for help.

She manages to pull the door open without hurting you too much and you instantly flop down into the chair your torch is on.

Alcina sits beside you, gently taking your hand in her own as she asks if you're alright.

"I think I might've got a few splinters in my legs and stomach from that damn door, but otherwise I'm alright."

Alcina leads you back to your room to help you remove the splinters, but not without giving you a safety lecture on the way. 

+1

Daniela tracked some mud in with her late during the night probaly from hunting, but has been nowhere to be found all day to clean up the mess she's made. Alcina had to go into town so you decided to clean up the mess to kill some time.

You started by the front door and have made your way upstairs to the balcony that overlooks the main entrance. But you don't hear Alcina come in over the sound of your headphones.

But what you dohear during the quiet second between songs is a loud thud from down below.

You look over the balcony and see Alcina sitting stunned on the floor, with a freshly mopped and still wet spot by her feet.

"Careful, it's slippery." You tease, Alcina gives you a playful glare and you hold your hands up in defense. "I'm just glad that wasn't me." You laugh, finally happy to be the one danger doesn't hit.

"Did you really do all this without falling once?" Alcina asks as you make your way down the stairs to greet her.

"Yes, I di-" your proud sentence gets cut short as you slip and fall down the last four stairs.

You're stunned for a second but soon the only thing that can be heard is you and Alcina laughing at each others clumsiness.

The End

Prompts from 4 anons:

1 - Lady Dimitrescu with a reader who does a lot crafty things like sewing or something with sharp objects but are also accident prone and pricks themselves or something.

2 - the reader somehow imjures themselves and Alcina scolds them for not being careful but it's bc shes really worried so she takes care of them and comforts them in the end

3 - I'm just imagining Lady Dimitrescu with a very clumsy reader / s/o would be like. Just umagine maybe it's a chill afternoon and it's quiet in the castle. Alcina might be reading something in that main area, down the stairs, and suddenly there is a crash from one of the rooms. She rushes over in concern, opens the door and sees us just lying on the floor. She jst hears a small "I'm okay!" and she goes over to us to gently help us up. maybe going "What on earth were you trying to do, my love?"

"Trying to reach the top shelf for >Insert supply here<"

+1 - Imagine Alcina slipping and falling, like, the noise that's bound to make, and you'd know it was her cause you'd just hear a loud ass thud LMAO

[amiedala]

Something More (the mandalorian x reader)

CHAPTER 1: INTO THE STARS

Rated: Explicit (not this chapter, but future chapters will be)

Warnings: light descriptions of violence

Summary: Meeting the Mandalorian was like colliding into the rest of your life at a moment’s notice. Like oh, there you are. It was both jarring and familiar at the same time, like stepping into a minute with no intentions and stepping out of it in deja-vu. You had always been told you made too much out of everything, that you blew up every circumstance to fit some kind of grand destiny, some huge significance. If anyone asked, you’d swear up and down this was different. It was different. The Mandalorian sweeping you off your feet and out of your back alley haunts and narrow escapes was something kismet. Something cosmic. Something more.

Or, a slow burn love story across the stars featuring you, Din, and your little green baby. With love, angst, lust, and everything in between following you across the galaxy.*this deviates from canon for the most part, the plot begins at the very end of season 1 and will deviate for about half of season 2! there is LOTS planned for this (i already have 19k words written & will be posting regularly) so i hope you all enjoy!! <3 muah*

this is 1000000% completely inspired by the incredible behemoth SUPREME Mandalorian fic Rough Day by our lord & savior @no-droids but it will have its entire own plot & more of a slowburn in both love & smut, specifically for suffering long haul romance lovers like myself!

i already have 19k words written & will be ATTEMPTING to post updates regularly (and if i get excited about getting new chapters up, they might come early. i'm gonna try to post Saturday evenings every week, extenuating circumstances notwithstanding <3

hope you enjoy!!! more to come VERY SOON!!!

Meeting the Mandalorian was like colliding into the rest of your life at a moment’s notice. Like oh, there you are. It was both jarring and familiar at the same time, like stepping into a minute with no intentions and stepping out of it in deja-vu. You had always been told you made too much out of everything, that you blew up every circumstance to fit some kind of grand destiny, some huge significance. If anyone asked, you’d swear up and down this was different. It was different. The Mandalorian sweeping you off your feet and out of your back alley haunts and narrow escapes was something kismet. Something cosmic. Something more.

You met him on Nevarro. You weren’t even supposed to be there. You were supposed to be back in the Mid Rim by that point, long gone from your last mission gone sour. Your ship had broken down and you narrowly escaped a crash landing, and you’d hiked for hours through the unyielding lava fields for the closest town, with nothing but a handful of credits and the clothes on your back. Somehow, miraculously, you were able to grab the last of your water and your mother’s necklace from where it was hanging on the dashboard before the magma had bubbled up and claimed the better half of the old X-wing before you could go back in for more.

“Dank ferrik,” you seethed, and the curse felt alien under your tongue. There was no one out here to hear it but yourself, the lava, and the sulfuric air, anyways, so you grumbled out a few more before the ship fully sank into the magma in front of you.

The ship itself wasn’t a big loss—you’d only gotten it because it was the cheapest after you lost your own to that smuggler, but being stranded on a planet that was so aggressive towards any sort of survival wasn’t the best circumstance in the galaxy. But here you were, stuck, unmoored, anchorless, on a planet not known for anything except its rivers of lava and a bounty hunters’ guild you’d heard about and tried your best to stay away from. That town was the only landmark you had, though, so you begrudgingly trekked across Nevarro’s molten surface in search for any form of civilization.

The sky had started to slip off into darkness, and the small flecks of the other Outer Rim planets glistened lightyears away from where you were hiking when you stumbled over something and nearly fell into what you assumed was a dormant vat of lava. It was only when you scrambled away from the hot pocket of ground that you realized it was a stormtrooper helmet. A stormtrooper helmet with a head still in it. You gasped and skittered away, pushing off the heels of your hands to get upward as fast as you can, not even registering the heat eating through the skin of your palms. You didn’t have a weapon—the old blaster you’d carried for the last few years had been eaten up with the X-Wing—and as your eyes adjusted to a collection of white armor and bodies on the ground, you kicked yourself from not prioritizing the gun over getting out unscathed.

You didn’t scare easy. You grew up on a slowly abandoned Rebel base back on Yavin, and even after your parents’ deaths, you were surrounded by a legion of people who took care of you and taught you how to fight. Really, you were good at getting out of sticky situations that looked too dire to survive—take the crash landing an hour back for example—but you had a giant blind spot of earnestness to believe the people you went into business with were being sincere. That’s how the ship had crashed in the first place, you exchanged a repair of your original starship with providing Alderaanian liquor to a smuggler and his droid back on Dantooine who had both cut and run with it before fully repairing the vitally broken control panel. It was a rookie mistake, which you definitely weren’t, but he had just seemed so earnest in his need for the alcohol, and your fatal flaw was that you always trusted people who needed help. Even to your own detriment.

It had been your downfall back home, and at least twice when you were adventuring through the Outer Rim, and when you narrowly escaped a Deveronian when you had first started out on your own, because you were too close to a scumbag in friend’s clothing who fumbled the bag and left you for dead. He even stole your ship, then, and you had to make a series of sordid deals to get off Polis Massa, let alone find a place where you could crash safely for weeks before you could work up enough credits to get the X-Wing, which was, quite ceremoniously, dead now.

You shivered with the realization that you might be in danger, too. There were so many bodies scattered across this ridge and the next, and a handful of crashed TIE fighters. The sight of them didn’t strike fear into you—they never really had, you were raised in the Alliance and you could outfly the Empire since you were six years old—but they made you feel uneasy. Nevarro didn’t have a Rebel base, and you had never met someone in the Alliance who was from the planet. With the obvious show of Imperial affiliation and the bounty hunters’ guild, Nevarro was seedy enough that it kept you on edge as you walked, hopefully towards a town with people who didn’t want anything more from you than an easy job.

It must have been near dawn when you finally made it to the edge of the town. It was at best shot to all hell and at worst absolutely obliterated. Your heart sank. There were more dead suits of white armor scattered across the dirt and sand. There were helmets on pikes that looked far too fresh. Your hand twitched near your thigh where your blaster was usually strapped. All of this was a bad idea. You shouldn’t have left the blaster in the ship. If you were really playing the game of regrets, though, you never should have helped the smuggler. You should have paid the fifteen more credits to get the X-Wing fixed on Tatooine instead. You should have stayed on Yavin after your parents died and shouldn’t have been so earnest to make it on your own and—

“Hey.” The voice came from behind you, and you whipped around so fast your hair fell from where the clasp had been hanging on to nothing but a prayer since your crash landing. You shook it away from your face, eyes squinted at the figure that seemed to materialize behind you. “Where are you from, pretty thing?”

“Coruscant,” you lied through your teeth. The name of the planet you’ve been trying to avoid for years burns a hole through your belly.

“You don’t belong in a place like this.” He stepped into the light, and he wasn’t human. You didn’t know what he was, exactly, but his tone made your skin crawl. You held your ground.

“You’re right. I don’t. I’m looking for a mechanic.”

“I’m a mechanic.” Like hell he was. You clenched your jaw, trying to look menacing. The grease and sweat from the hike there was smeared on your face, your pants had gotten ripped while climbing out of the crash. You didn’t like how his eyes fixated hungrily on the flesh of your exposed thigh, and you had to shake the thought away while you walked into a voice much more brazen than your own.

“Do you know how to fix an X-Wing?” You stepped forward, and the Rebel insignia on your necklace glinted in the low light. Around these parts, after the fall of the Empire, you’ve heard Rebels strike fear into the local folk. Suddenly, the guy took a step backward, and you reveled in your menace for a split second before you realized someone was standing behind you.

He didn’t speak again before he took off. You stuttered, the sudden appearance of the figure behind you catching in your chest, and it rose to a cut off yelp when a red blast knocked the one who had hit on you off his feet, spiraling over a stormtrooper body, falling to the rocky floor. Dead. He was dead. You spun, praying that your heart hammering in your chest was just leftover adrenaline and not a signifier of a new threat.

Standing behind you, outfitted entirely in silver reflective armor, was a Mandalorian. “Nevarro doesn’t have mechanics.”

You squinted. You were completely taken aback by his presence, his hulking realness, but suddenly his statement overpowered your revelry. “I find that hard to believe.”

“That X-Wing crashed out there is yours.” It isn’t a question. His voice is deep, a baritone that spreads warmth even blocked by the modulator in his helmet. You’d only heard of Mandalorians in stories, legends, around the campfires growing up. You didn’t expect one to ever materialize in anything other than myth, let alone stand in front of you, electric.

You nod. Did he follow you all the way to town?

“You aren’t looking for a mechanic.” His voice is so sure, so big. Your world spins on its axis, the feeling foreign and familiar all at once. He had spoken three sentences to you, and already, you felt that dizzy, magnetic pull that you tried to convince yourself was there much more often than it was.

“I…” You trail off, staring up at his visor. He seems larger than life, much larger than you, at least, and for some reason, the hugeness is cutting off all of your words before they can fully form. “No. I need a way off this planet, though.”

“Can you fly?”

You balk at his question, annoyed—obviously, you could fly—and then remember the only track record you have in the Mandalorian’s eyes is your ship, crash landed and then immediately swallowed by lava. “I’m a pilot. A runner. I’ve been flying since I was six years old.”

He takes a minute, completely silent. The noise of the scattered stormtrooper bodies around you suddenly seems deafening. You aren’t scared of him. You think. Your heart is still hammering, but it’s nothing like the fear that rushed through you when the alien talked to you a few minutes ago. It’s different—not adrenaline, exactly, and not fear. You place the feeling when it washes over you again, warm and unexpected—Excitement.

“Okay.” He moves, and you startle. You didn’t realize the conversation was over.

“Uh,” you stammer, “Do you… do you need a pilot?”

“No,” he says, over his shoulder. His strides are long. You step forward, almost pulled after him, then stuttered to a stop. “But I might be your only ride out of here.”

“Oh,” you manage, and then follow him. The dim light spreads over the horizon as you walk, stunned into silence by his own, trying to mimic his step, his quiet. It doesn’t happen. You’re clunking along beside him, the noise made even louder by the silence in his gait. “I’m not picky, where we go, you know—I was heading away from the Outer Rim, so I’m in no rush to get back there, but—I mean, I’m thankful that you’re taking me anywhere—”

“I can’t pay you. But you don’t have to pay me, either.”

You blink, feet stuttering to a near stop, buffering before you remember to keep following him. “I’m sorry?”

“You can fly, right?”

You blink, eyes darting up to the back of his helmet. It might just be the modulator, but there’s no air in his voice, no struggle to cross the hard, hot terrain. It’s impressive. “I can, but you thought you didn’t need a pilot—?”

“You were a rebel.” His voice is curt. Quick.

Your eyebrows furrow, looking down at the insignia on your necklace and then back up at him. There’s a dry breeze over the molten moors, and his cape catches in the wind. It flutters. It’s the first sign of something gentle about him. It’s the memory you take with you for months later, savoring it for when he’s leaving you on the ship while he goes and catches his bounties, one by one. You cling to it in the long lapses of time where he doesn’t offer you anything but silence. You’ll hold onto it, a butterfly of a memory, for weeks—until he offers you something softer, something warmer. Something real.

You don’t know that in the moment, though. Right now, he’s asked a question, and you’re struggling to answer it honestly. “I was.”

“You don’t scare easily.”

It’s like he’s putting together these impossible puzzle pieces of your life. How is he guessing this? He’s known you for maybe ten whole minutes. It swells in your chest, a thunderbird of a thing, and you don’t know why.

“I’d like to think so,” you manage, as he tilts his helmet back to search you for your answer. Your breath hitches in your throat at the thought of his eyes on you, and you wonder what color they are. Maker. Where did that come from?

“Good.”

A ship seems to materialize out of nowhere, but it seems more likely that you were so caught up in the mystery of the Mandalorian and keeping your gaze locked on him that his ship was in the periphery of your vision. You follow him, still confused, up the descended gangplank. Sitting in the middle of the ship is a tiny green baby, with eyes ten times the size of its nose, with peach fuzz lazily dusting the top of its head. It’s holding a tiny silver ball in its three-fingered hands, looking up at the Mandalorian with outstretched arms.

You watch, in stunned silence, as the giant hulking silver figure crouches down to pick up the baby, meeting its little coos with soft words right back. It’s as soft as his cape fluttering in the wind, an unexpected, fleeting feeling of warmth. You don’t know what to do with yourself. The warm breeze buffets the small of your back, ruffles your loose hair. You just stand there, entirely enamored with this tiny green baby in the Mandalorian’s arms, speechless.

“You don’t scare easily,” the Mandalorian repeats.

You shake your head. “Nope.”

He holds the baby up to you. “How about now?”

You blink, confused. “Am I supposed to be scared of it?”

“Him.”

You take a tentative step forward, gaze flickering between the two of them, wondering what would have happened if you had crash landed literally anywhere else, at literally any other time. Something big and ceremonious swells somewhere deep in your chest.

“I’m not scared,” you finally say, and when your eyes find his visor again, you hope he knows you mean you’re not scared of either of them. You could be—most people with common sense are struck with fear at the sight of meeting a Mandalorian, especially one associated with such a widespread bounty hunters’ guild—but fear just keeps getting pushed away as the seconds pass. A small voice in the back of your head whispers that this is another mistake of being too trustful, but the larger half of you knows how to handle yourself if you find trouble. Besides, he has a tiny alien kid, and something tells you the Mandalorian wouldn’t put the baby in a situation that he deemed unsafe. As the door zips shut behind you, you step forward into the ship—into the place you’ll eventually make your home—heart still hammering on and on, thrumming as the three of you lift off of Nevarro’s surface and into the stars.

[dorotharry]

tiny dancer ; chapter two

Pairing: bucky barnes x fem!reader

PROLOGUE | CHAPTER 1 | CHAPTER 3

Word count: 1.7k

Warnings: torture, nightmares, angst, let me know if there's anything else :) 

Summary: After being drafted for the war in 1942, Bucky goes to the ballet a week before having to leave with his best friend Steve. There he becomes infatuated you with the prima ballerina of the show, and he just has to meet you before his last week in Brooklyn is up. He hopes one day you would meet again; little does it know it will be 72 years later.

A/N: honestly I have no clue where I’m going but I’m hoping you’re all still following. There’s still soooo much to go into readers past and yep, it’s gonna take a while but I hope you enjoy this. Please feel free to give feedback, like and repost it would mean a lot! :)

MY MASTERLIST

*gif not mine

1943

Your head felt groggy, as you woke up. Not enough energy from an ounce of your body to open your eyes for the time being. The more your body woke up from the darkness of slumber the more the pounding of aches and pains became less subtle and started to fill each and every muscle. You weren’t sure where you were or what had happened, but you suddenly became aware that your surroundings weren’t familiar. The air was too cool and there was an eeriness from lack of noise.

Finally, you were able to pry your eyes open. The colours swirled around you into one, until they became to create recognisable shapes. Although this wasn’t somewhere you recognised, just as your mind had thought even before getting to look around.

You were laid down on a metal ‘bed’ if you could even call it a bed. The coolness of the metal began to get to you a shiver running down your spine and you attempted to get up. Only to be restricted. It was now when you noticed you had straps holding your ankles, down, but not only this; there was a limpness to your form. In fact, you didn’t have any real connection to your muscles. As if a switch had been turned on in your head you realised, this wasn’t a bed. It was a table.

Suddenly your anxiety rose. In an ill attempt to do something you turned you head groggily to the left, only to be met with machines, and hospital devices. You took in a sharp breath. This definitely wasn’t a hospital so why the machines? Rolling your head to the right with just as much difficultly as last time you were met with darkness. The faint sound of feet shuffling in the distance, and the whirring of more machines.

Almost as if whoever it was had realised you were awake, a bright white light turned on above you causing you to groan from the sudden contrast to the previous darkness. The footsteps became louder, as whoever it was approached you from their hiding spot.

“Ah you’re awake,” the voice started, “you know you gave our men quite a difficult time back there. Are you going to behave this time?”

Your voice barely was able to respond, only a hushed whisper came out, “Who are you? Where am I?” This worked to rejog your memory as you saw flashes of men running after you, as you had leapt from this same table. You had gotten pretty far and fought back fairly well but this place… whatever it was; was a maze. Realising now that amongst being kidnapped and knocked unconscious. Your first attempt to escape was probably why you were in pain all over. A vision of a few men jumping on top of you and beating you unconscious. Again. That must have been why you were tied down this time.

“I think you know the answer to that.” the small man with glasses responded appearing finally out of the darkness. “…We’re HYDRA, and you y/n...” He spoke reaching under your chin in a condescending manner. “…Were firstly going to be a pawn against your stupid Captain America. But you’ve shown promise, something our other soldiers don’t have.  Neither your American ones. My guess is it comes from your ballet training.” He shrugged as he moved away from you, turning and looking for something. Suddenly his hand was on a switch and machines began to rumble.

“Please,” you responded choking on your own words, “please just kill me!” You knew something was coming, otherwise why would be so aloof.

He chuckled at your words as he stood behind you. “The red skull doesn’t want me to do that, he needs more soldiers, and that’s exactly what we’re going to make you.” And with that you saw a metal machine slowly being dropped down over your left eye, and below your right jaw, causing your panic to rise. As quick as the unbearable pain started, so did darkness.

Present day ; 2017

You woke up screaming as the pain of what had happened almost a century ago shot through your entire body. You fumbled out of bed in a sweat like you did most nights. Heading towards your small kitchen in your small apartment. It was filled with greys, no life within in, you felt there was no need, why celebrate a life with no life?

Your life had changed in so many ways after 1943. You were one of HYDRA’S many toys, the many men that surrounded you called you tiny dancer, but not in a kind way, in a misogynistic arrogant way. Most people at that time though saw you as a weapon, something to be feared of, and they should have.

After you had stumbled upon the Winter Soldier on a mission in 2014 working as a freelance agent having cut your ties with HYDRA mere months before hand, it was only a few months when so had Captain America. From what you had heard amongst assassins under the radar living in Madripoor like you, it hadn’t gone well for HYDRA and now the Winter Soldier was nowhere to be found, invoking fear within many who had made themselves enemies to him. But you were sure his best friend would be looking for him. Whilst you had decided to go against helping him, Steve was not that kind of person.

Time had not been kind to you, you were no longer the frail girl who could fall in love in a week. In fact, you weren’t sure if you actually could feel love anymore. HYDRA had to make sure there was no collateral. Still once you saw him that night you wondered how amongst your many years with HYDRA, how you had never run into Bucky: The Winter Soldier. You had heard of the winter soldier, but you never knew it was Bucky behind the ghost of a person. Probably on purpose, HYDRA had been in your mind. Tthere was no doubt they knew who he was to you back then.

Not only did it invoke these thoughts, but it had led to your retirement. Well not your retirement, you were still about 25 years old on the outside, and though nor Steve or Bucky knew you were alive you knew how it felt to be in their position.

Hiding out in your small apartment in Madripoor was where you had spent most of your life since 2014, staying on the down low in case HYDRA somehow re-emerged, looking for revenge on a project they had wasted so much time on. You.  

You weren’t sure why they were so surprised people like you hated them with so much anger. They had taken your life, Bucky’s life and made you weapons against your will. You didn’t hold their values, it was forced upon you.

You shook yourself from your thoughts again. You only got sentimental after nightmares, and the nightmares had been pretty continuous after seeing Bucky those few years ago, so really you were sentimental most mornings. You think it had something to do with seeing him and how it brought back memories you didn’t even know you had.

Reaching for a bottle of water, you took a sip looking over at the clock that read 3am. You groaned, knowing that you’d probably never have a good night’s sleep again. Terrible payback for a terrible past. No sleep for the wicked.

You shuffled yourself back to your room getting into bed and turning on the tv as a way to mindlessly distract yourself until you actually had to do stuff.

A few hours past until it was 7am, and you decided you could at least go for a shower before your day at work. Working at a bar that opened at 9am wasn’t exactly high class living; especially when you had to deal with drunks so early in the day, so it definitely required more motivation than most jobs. You couldn’t do what you were originally good at, dance. And you’d decided you probably shouldn’t be doing what you were trained for. Killing people.

Turning on the shower to allow it to warm up, you rid yourself of your clothes, suddenly aware of how stiff your muscles were after another bad dream. Stepping in you let the water try and wash it away, and though it did help you knew it would only reappear tonight in another form of a nightmare. You closed your eyes sighing in content, and it did last for a brief moment until you heard banging on your front door.

At first you tried to ignore it, but it got louder and more aggravated and suddenly your heart had fell to your stomach, resorting to thinking of the worst that could be behind that door. Getting out you threw some clothes back on. You reached under your bed grabbing your shot gun, holding it close to yourself as you slowly walked towards the door that had started banging again. Times like this you wished you had a peep hole to look through.

You turned on your best poker face and opened the door abruptly to be more hostile. Only you were met with someone you didn’t know, though for some reason you felt you recognised. On the other side of the door stood a woman all in black, her hair was in a blonde bob and for a brief second you thought you saw a reaction flash across her face like she knew you too.

“Is this y/n?” she spoke firmly and with poise.

You raised an eyebrow, “Why?”

“Is it?” she returned her poker face staying on her face.

“Yes.” You huffed, the half-amused face falling from your face, returning back to the glare you constantly wore. “Who are you?”

She raised her hand for you to shake her face accompanying it with a small smile, which you hesitantly took.

“Nice to finally meet you y/n, I’ve been looking for you under Fury’s instruction for a while, my name’s Natasha.”

Previous Chapter | Next Chapter

Taglist: (let me know if you want to be tagged)

@maybe-a-marvel​ @thatredlipped-classic​ @flightsandfantasy​ @7minutes-tomidnight​ @rebelemilu​ 

[imaginesbymk]

“It’s 3AM, And I Miss You Like Hell.”

Peaky Blinders One Shot

Summary: Finn hasn’t been taking your death very well and has gone completely reckless, causing him to lose himself. Not even his brothers could help get him back to his feet. 

Pairing: Finn Shelby x Reader

Tags: angst, mentions of death, swearing, smoking, heavy drinking + prostitution

Non Requested

Word Count: 1,344

Author’s Note: this is a short one shot but it’s sad hour </3 pls leave a like/reblog & some feedback!!!

[gif credit]

It’s 3AM, and I miss you like hell.

So I went to the Garrison and drank out of the decanter.

“Wake the fuck up.” Finn groans as soon as his senses detected the familiar migraine from last night’s hardcore partying and boozing, and even the harsh slap Arthur gave on his cheek. Another hangover he has yet to subdue for another repetitive day.

“Where the fu-” Finn groans again, rubbing the tensioned spot, the most painful spot he couldn’t just massage away. “What time is it?”

“It’s time for you to wake the fuck up and freshen up. Tommy’s already got the Garrison reserved for the next meeting.”

Finn didn’t like taking orders from Arthur. He was too tough on him while Finn was too stubborn to think he couldn’t do better without. He smacks his pockets for his cigarettes, and places one in his mouth, then smacks his pockets again for a lighter.

The sounds of heels clanging against the Garrison floors made Finn jolt right awake in fear. Polly was someone Finn didn’t wanna piss off. 

Polly gives a side eye to Finn before taking her shades off. “Morning, Finn. Or should I recall it’s two in the afternoon.” She scowls at the state he was in. A groggy, hungover mess. “You look like your father.”

“When hasn’t the Garrison ever been reserved?” Finn wrings out his shirt before throwing it over his head.

“You’ve got two minutes to toss the attitude out the window, Finn. Come on,” Arthur smacks him in the back of his head before he could even have another second to fit his head through the shirt hole. “Rub your eyes, put your bloody shirt on, and get the fuck up.”

It’s 3AM, and I miss you like hell. 

So I came to see you during the late hours.

You slumped your way to the front and turned the knob, finding no one but Finn standing at the steps, eager to just see you at such a late hour. You found your way into Finn’s sleep, and something unimaginable had happened in his dream. He woke up thinking it was a sign, and had a coat worn over his sleeping pajamas when he showed up at your front door.

“Finn, what is it?” you scratched your head.

“Sorry, I-” Finn cleared his throat, noticing how you were in your sleeping clothes, your hair in tangles from tossing around from side to side. Still, he looked at you like you were an angel above all. 

You nodded your head, urging for him to respond quicker. “Yes, Finn?”

“I felt like something was wrong, so I came here.”

You raised a brow. “Finn?”

“I mean, something happened today, and I never got the chance to check up on you.”

“Now’s not a good time.”

“I know,” he nodded. “You mind if I rest on your couch? I’ll leave first thing in the morning.”

Despite his family being listed as dangerous to even be feared by anyone else, you wouldn’t wanna live with the idea of leaving Finn to drive back to his home late at night. You opened the door all the way to let him in.

It’s 3AM, and I miss you like hell. 

The man with the shovel covered your coffin with dirt.

Finn was there when you died. Your cause of death was worse than what Finn saw his night terror. In his dream, you were pushed. In reality, you jumped. 

In the clash, you were the last to chime in, helping Finn take down an enemy. Finn was the aim, but you were tagged by accident, opening up a fresh wound on your chest that could fit nothing else smaller but deadlier than a bullet. Finn didn’t scream like an animal, he didn’t lunge at the shooter. He could have crouched on the ground to hold you as you died in his arms -  but could only stay frozen stiff while Isaiah and Aberama took over.

It’s 3AM, and I miss you like hell. 

Even the girls who lay with me could never compare.

“You like it?” Finn looks up from the wooden floor. He could tell that the girl had done her own makeup, and her hair was down to her shoulders. Skin was visible, the silks of her dress were easy to tear off. She was pretty. She wasn’t you, though.

“Yeah,” Finn scratched his head, leaning back in his chair as the girl sat on his desk. “I like fuckin’ everything.”

It’s 3AM, and I miss you like hell.

But how were my brothers able to cope with it faster than I could count to ten?

“Finn.” This was the tenth time Arthur and Tommy had walked in the Garrison to see a blacked out Finn lying on one of the booths, his shirt buttoned open, his pants undone, barefoot, countless bottles of gin crowding the table. Did Finn even remember to lock his front door the night before? 

“Finn!” Tommy slaps him so hard he awoke, and gripped him by the chin.

Finn reacted, immediately pulling his gun from the holster. Before a clicking sound could be pulled, Arthur was already pinning him against the walls. “Finn-”

“Fuck off, both of you-” Finn slurs.

“Oi!” Tommy smacks him in the cheek. ‘You stop that. I’m looking at myself when you’re like this. You stop it right now.”

“You’re talking to me like I’m still the child you, Arthur and John always excluded—”

“That is because you’re acting like one,” Tommy says. His blood turned cold after hearing his name. “And don’t you fuckin’ speak of him like that. He would be doing exactly what we’re doing.”

“I said both of you fuck off!”

“Arthur, put him down. He’s not a street kid,” Polly says from the front door.

“Dear God...” Ada and Lizzie followed behind her. “Tommy, we’ll wait in the other booths. Will Finn be joining?”

After hearing his name brought in the question, Tommy and Arthur turned back to Finn, who was still pinned against the walls, gasping heavily they could smell the mix of booze and something so foul that it had to be morning breath.

“Arthur, you’re starting the meeting. I’ll drive Finn home.” 

Finn’s eyes trailed over to Tommy as he towered over him. “Tom, I-” Arthur releases Finn, and he drops to the ground with a loud thud.

It’s 3AM, and I miss you like hell. 

But I see you in my dreams, or behind me when I look in the mirror, or even in the faces of women I pay to fuck. 

At least that’s your way of sticking around.

Tommy and Finn never said a word to each other for the rest of the drive home. He was surprised he didn’t belch out any vomit onto the floor or even in Tommy’s car. It wasn’t that he was trying not to, he hadn’t felt a thing. No nausea, no migraine. 

So what about the ache in his heart? 

Tommy parks beside the lamppost in front of the townhouse. If he stood up, so would Finn. If he could yell at him like a parent punishing their child, he could. But Tommy wastes no breath unless he carried the facial features of his young boy. 

But when he looks at the hungover and dead-souled Finn, his face softens.

“Finn.” All he saw was a boy trapped in a man’s body, or maybe the other way around. He meant what he said when told him he sees himself through Finn’s grieving. He could understand why, an endless cycle of grief was the worst kind of hell. If Grace never left Tommy’s heart, if Arthur will never see anyone else like a father, and if Michael is the only child Polly can call her own - then perhaps they could all understand why.

"It’s all right, Finn.” All it took was a hand on the shoulder. Tommy Shelby watched his youngest brother shamelessly break down in front of him and let out a soft cry. “I miss them too.”

—

TAGLIST: @ladyxblake @lotsoffandomimagines @amirahiddleston @thethyri @woahitslucyylu @myriadimagines @fangirlsarah16 @your-pixels-are-showing @lucillethings @sirkekselord @kaetastic @champagneholland @locke-writes

[watchmegetobsessed]

And I always will - Tom Holland

❄️ FANFICmas 2020 ❄️

Read more about FANFICmas here!

week 3 babies! it’s been so long since i last wrote for Tom and this story just screamed for him when I made up the plot. so here is some cute friends to lovers christmas edition! updated the fanficmas post with next week’s fic and added another one for the 24th, check it out if you are interested!

word count: 4.2k

masterlist

It’s not a date, it’s not a date, it’s not a date!

That’s your mantra for the evening and the closer the time is coming when Tom is picking you up, the louder you’re shouting it in your mind. Well, while it was sure he was nowhere near your apartment you physically kept telling yourself, heart pounding in your chest with each passing moment, but when he texted you that he’d be there in five you shut yourself up.

Stepping to the mirror you take one last look at yourself in your simple black dress and red blazer, a simple but fitting look for the annual Christmas party of the company you’re working for. You tug your hair behind your ears to make your earrings more apparent, they are like little red Christmas ornaments, the perfect touch up for the occasion and you also happen to know Tom loves how you wear them around the holidays every year.

This whole thing started a week ago when he was over for a movie night, something you often did when he was in town and you whined about having to go to the company party alone again and listen to your boss comment on how she was already married at your age. She is a very old school woman with strong beliefs that a woman should be able to catch herself a man at an early age if she doesn’t want to end up alone for the rest of her life.

You were only twenty three, not at all in rush to settle down, but you hated the teasing and commenting every year. It happened all through the year, but it was the worst at the Christmas party, because then she had the time to talk to you without the distraction of work, so she was able to touch on more personal topics as well.

Tom listened to you patiently, letting you rage about the irritation even the thought brings to you every year before proposing his idea.

“I could go with you and pretend to be your boyfriend.”

The words rolled off his tongue so easily, like it was nothing at all, when in reality it put your stomach into a knot immediately. It might have not mean anything to him other than just a friendly request but it meant so much more to you, being in love with the man for years.

Cliché, right? Falling for your best friend and keeping your emotions bottled up because you’re too afraid to come clear and possibly ruin your friendship. It sounds like a horrible teen movie, but this is the truth. It’s not something you can just blurt out without having to overthink about all the possible outcomes that would send you into a rabbit hole of the worst case scenarios until you are scared to talk about your feelings for life.

You were hesitant about his idea, but like every time, he managed to talk your ears off and convince that it would be a great idea.

“Lots are already thinking we are a couple, it would be easy!” he assured you, and he gave you a sly, cocky smirk, one you can never resist. So naturally, you said yes at the end and that brings you to this evening, when you’re nervously waiting for him to arrive to pick you up so the two of you could go to that stupid party together, pretending to be a couple.

You keep pacing back and forth in the small hallway as you wait for him to arrive and when you hear the knock on the door you jump.

It’s not a date, Y/N! Just pretentious!

You keep telling yourself your little mantra as you stride over to the door and open it for him. And there he is, handsome as ever, wearing black dress pants and a nice, crispy looking white shirt under his wool coat, the top buttons of the shirt left undone to let your greedy eyes a little hint of his toned chest underneath the fabric. You need to stop yourself from sucking on your breath, he looks so great, not just now, but all the damn time, making you feel lightheaded with just a simple smile.

“You look beautiful, girlfriend,” he tells you, putting a teasing tone into the last word and though it was just a joke, it made your heart flutter for sure.

“Thank you, boyfriend,” you shyly smile, the word tastes so sweet on your tongue, but there’s some hidden pain behind it.

“Ready to go?” You nod and grab your coat and purse before shutting the door behind you and locking the door.

The ride is short, but feels like forever. You’re anxiously chewing on your bottom lip, heart pounding in your chest and you fear that Tom might hear it and question you about it. This is so nerve-wrecking, and so not how you imagined to be his girlfriend for the first time.

Though it’s the closest you’ll get to the title, probably, you tell yourself, stomach churning at the thought.

“Hey,” Tom’s soft voice grabs your attention when he stops at a red light. “Nervous?”

“Just a little,” you nod shortly. “I just… want to my boss to take me seriously for once,” you lie, because there’s absolutely no way you are telling him it’s him that makes you shit your panties.

“I’ll be right there with you and we’ll charm the shit out of that woman,” he smirks making you laugh at his words.

“Hope so,” you mumble with a sigh, turning back to stare out the window.

Tom parks down in an empty spot near the venue that holds the part and he helps you out of the car giving you a hand, but he doesn’t let go of it once you are standing on your feet, holding your hand and even lacing your fingers together. When he gives it a gentle squeeze you peek up at him and notice that he is looking down at your with a warm smile as if he is trying to tell you that it’s gonna be alright without words. You try to swallow your anxious thoughts and hope he doesn’t find your hand too sweaty as the two of you head inside.

You work for a huge marketing company, one of the biggest ones in London. You landed an assistant job two years ago, fresh out of college and worked yourself up to be a fulltime graphic designer, mostly working on visuals for smaller campaigns running in the company, but you were proud of your work and enjoyed it to the fullest. One of the lead designers is rumored to retire sometime next year and you were hoping to be considered for his spot, thought there are quite a lot who has been working there for a longer time, but you felt like you have proven yourself to be suitable for the job. Tonight you are praying to charm your boss so she would move your name forward in the process and earn you a few good points at the admission, but this meant that you have to make her believe you are the definition of couple goals so she would get off your back and finally see that you are trying your best to move forward in life.

The venue is one big ball room, several tables set on the sides with the department’s name on the table to let people know where to sit, the luxurious decoration making the whole place appear like Winter Wonderland straight out of a fairytale. There’s a stage at the very back with a DJ already playing and a dancefloor in the middle, some guests are busting their best dance moves there, while others are enjoying the open buffet that runs along the two sides, tables filled with the most delicious looking meals.

A waiter greets you both, offering you champagne and you gladly take a glass while Tom shakes his head with a soft “I’m driving, thank you”.

Looking around you see some familiar faces but there are a lot new ones. The company has a whole office building with five floors and one usually stays on their own floor throughout the working days, you don’t interact much, so it’s hard to tell who you are working with on a wider level.

“Do you know where we are sitting?” Tom asks leaning closer to your ear so you hear what he is saying over the music and as his hot breath hits your neck it sends a shiver down your spine.

He is so close and his hand feels so warm on mine, you think to yourself while your eyes scan the place, trying to find your colleagues. When you spot them you pull Tom in their direction, plastering a nervous smile on your lips.

“Hi everyone!” you greet them arriving to the big, circular table. You work with a team of ten designers, some of them are older, but there are two around your age. Sally is twenty-five, her desk is right across yours and you’ve become closer, eating lunch together almost every day, and then there’s Owen, who is basically the office’s gossip source, always knows what happened to who and he makes sure to give the word away to the right people. Your older colleagues find him nosy, but you think it’s funny how he can still get any information from anyone even though he is known to have a big mouth. There’s just something about a tall, gay dude who approaches you with a sly smile, it’s like he puts a spell on people and they magically start talking. He often joins you and Sally for lunch, the three of you forming a club of young, ambitious people, holding each other up so you don’t get crushed by the judgy thirties.

When Owen looks up from his cocktail he almost spits it out seeing Tom standing next to you, holding your hand firmly.

“Little miss Y/N?! What is this supposed to be?” he gasps dramatically and you just chuckle shaking your head at him.

“This, is my uhh—This is my boyfriend, Tom,” you nervously introduce him and he waves around politely.

“Hi, nice to meet you all,” he calls out and most just acknowledge him with a nod and a hello, but Owen is over the roof that you just appeared with Tom Holland by your side.

“Why haven’t you tell me you were fucking Spider-Man himself?” he continues to rage and you almost choke on your own saliva hearing his words. Your cheeks start to heat up, but seemingly Tom doesn’t feel as uncomfortable as you, he just chuckles lightly, before pulling out your seat to help you sit before he takes the seat next to you.

Sally, who is sitting between you and Owen just slaps his chest in a warning manner.

“Control yourself!” she scolds him, but it only earns her an eye-roll.

“I’m sorry, but I feel offended I didn’t know about this,” he explains pointing at you and Tom.

“I hope you understand that I like to keep my private life, well, private. So it’s my fault Y/N hasn’t been bragging about us.” Tom rescues you from making up some stupid lie and you’re happy you didn’t have to say a word, so you just chug down half of your champagne in hopes it would ease your nerves a little.

Surprisingly, Owen backs off immediately, giving you a knowing look, as if he understood so well the life of a well-known actor even though he was far from being one.

“Oh, totally. I get it, don’t worry about it, Tom. Though I’m sure she’s been dying to talk about you all along.”

“Has she?” Tom teasingly looks down at you and you just let out an awkward chuckle nodding.

“Yeah. Exactly,” you mumble finishing off your champagne and putting it to the table. Tom can easily tell how nervous you are, so he puts a hand to your knee under the table and gives it a gentle squeeze, leaving it there afterwards, but it just rises your anxiety level. You are highly aware of every touch and look, as if your senses became hypersensitive all of a sudden, but only to Tom.

“So how long you two have been together?” Sally asks with a warm smile, trying her best to steal the opportunity from Owen to talk so he doesn’t say anything inappropriate and you are endlessly thankful to her for that.

“Um, couple of months,” you say the first thing that comes to your mind and from the corner of your eye you see Tom just nod along your words.

“And how do you know each other if I might ask?”

“We’ve been friends for a long time, actually,” Tom speaks up this time. “Y/N’s dad used to work with my dad when we were younger and we sort of became friends. I was always in love with her, though it took me a long time to grow the balls to ask her out.” You are stunned at how easily he is talking about something that’s not real, as if he has been building up this story in his mind for a while, but that can’t be the case of it.

“Oh, this is so cute! And did you feel the same way?” Sally asks you. Licking your lips you glance over at Tom.

“Yeah. Loved him all along,” you softly say and it’s the truth, however he will probably never know about it.

“It’s like in the movies!” Sally gasps, holding her hand to her chest.

Tom’s eyes still hold yours and he gives your knee another squeeze that makes you take a deep breath before you tear your gaze away from him, feeling giddy and lightheaded.

You stay at the table a little longer before the two of you head to fill your plates before everything is fully gone. It’s kind of a relief to get away from Owen and Sally, you hated lying to them, but you had no choice.

“Everything alright?” Tom asks, brushing a hand against the small of your back as the two of you stand at the buffet, looking at the food.

“Yeah, I’m fine,” you nod with a weak smile. “Just a little nervous,” you admit.

“Don’t be, we are doing just fine,” he smirks and leaning down he kisses your forehead gently. It’s nothing new, he often does this and the gesture always manages to pull you out of your boiling thoughts and it has the same effect this time as well. You feel like you can breathe again after holding it in for a long time.

You carelessly glance over your shoulder as you wait for Tom to finish packing his plate up with veggies when you spot your boss talking to a guy who you recall works as an accountant on a higher level. Her eyes move just enough to meet yours and you suck on your breath when she spots Tom next to you, right when he reaches out mindlessly sliding a hand to your waist.

“Oh God, she saw us,” you mumble under your breath as you watch her excuse herself from the guy and head in your way.

“Hm? What?” Tom lifts his head and his eyes quickly find the tall, lean woman walking towards you with ambitious and confident steps. Mrs. Winston is the kind of woman that could easily intimidate any high power man in the industry, and she worked hard to be where she is now. However, you don’t necessarily always share her beliefs of the world and life, for instance her vision of a woman marrying a man as young as possible.

“Y/N? Who is this handsome man you brought tonight?” she asks right away, eyes landing on Tom who has put his plate to the table behind him and circled an arm around your waist. Before you could even get a word out, Tom extends his other hand out for her, with a charming smile.

“Tom Holland. It’s nice to meet you, Mrs. Winston. I’m Y/N’s boyfriend.”

Oh God, you’ll never get used to hearing him say that and you’re amazed he remembered her name even though you just mentioned it earlier.

“Nice to meet you too. Call me Carol,” she smiles, seemingly already loving Tom and honestly, you can’t blame her. “I saw that you were bringing a plus one, but I was expecting a relative,” she comments finally paying you a glance and you can feel the sharpness in it, how she partially meant it as an insult, but you just smile at her widely.

“Oh, no. Hope you don’t mind it.”

“Not at all. So tell me, why do you look so familiar, Tom?”

“I’m an actor, you might have seen me in movies.” It takes Mrs. Winston to put the picture together, but when she eventually does, she gives you a highly approving look.

“Well yes! Now I remember! I think my son in law is a big fan.”

“Give him my best wishes,” Tom nods with a warm smile.

“You know, I’m happy to see Y/N finally with a worthy man by her side. I always told her to grab herself a good one before she runs out of time,” Mrs. Winston starts her usual sermon.

“Oh, I think Y/N is perfect on her own, I think she is an amazing individual,” Tom replies and your and Mrs. Winston’s eyebrows rise at the same time. “I don’t think a woman needs a man by her side to make her complete and I admire her strength as a person on her own, not just in a relationship.”

“Don’t you think a woman needs the support of a man to succeed in this man dominated world we live in?”

“Not at all,” he shakes his head confidently and you feel him pull you closer to his side while you listen to his words curiously. “I think women deserve the recognition of them and their work and not to have it overshadowed by any men. I’m proud to be Y/N’s boyfriend and I’ll support her through everything, but I would never let anyone think of her as just a part of our relationship, or the person connected to me, because she is so much more than that and I want everyone to recognize that.”

You are at a loss of words, you knew Tom was a feminist, supporting women’s rights passionately, but you never heard him talk about it in a close relation with you. His words twisted your heart in the best possible way and though tonight is all about faking, something is telling you that these are his genuine thoughts, except the part about your relationship, but he could easily mean just your friendship under that.

Mrs. Winston seems stunned at the honest and forward answer, though you can tell it surprised her that someone went against her beliefs. However, it doesn’t seem like she is upset about it, more like she appreciates the balls that someone spoke up.

Her eyes fall back on you and there’s a small smile tugging at her red lips.

“He is a keeper, Y/N,” she simply tells you before walking away.

“Holy shit,” you breathe out when she is far away. Tom gives your waist another squeeze as he glances down at you with a smirk. “It’s like you put a spell on her!”

“I’m a charming bastard,” he shrugs smugly before grabbing his plate from the table and the two of you make your way back to the table.

Following the little talk with your boss you feel a lot more relaxed, knowing that Tom charmed the shit out of the woman. Now you are starting to enjoy the party, laughing with Sally and Owen and you’re happy to see that Tom is getting along with them pretty well too.

When the DJ starts playing All I Want For Christmas, the whole room cheers as one and most guests rush to the dance floor, that includes you and Tom as well.

He keeps you close, twirling you and moving around with you to the song, even singing it just like most people around you. Looking around you spot Mrs. Winston dancing as well, a lot more reserved than you, but she looks like she’s genuinely having a good time. She winks at you when your eyes meet and she sees Tom wrap an arm around your waist. You feel yourself blushing and you turn back to him, earning a sweet smile from him as he is enjoying the party.

When the song ends, the DJ slows it down a few knots playing Christmas Lights by Coldplay, people start to leave the dancefloor, only couple staying to slow dance to the song. Your eyes meet Tom and you thought he might want to go back to the table, but instead, his arms wrap around your waist and he pulls you to his chest, starting to sway to the rhythm.

You try to ignore the butterflies in your stomach as you feel his body pressed against yours, his hands holding your waist firmly, and you cheek is next to his, occasionally brushing in the motions. You run your hands up his broad shoulders and rest them behind his neck, a shiver running down your spine when you hear him sing the lines into your ear:

“Like some drunken Elvis singing, I go singing out of tune, saying how I always loved you darling and I always will.”

You lean back just enough to look into his eyes, feeling like the words he sang were a message addressed straight to you and you needed to see it in his look. When your gazes meet your heart skips a beat when they validate your thoughts. He sang those lines on purpose and he wanted you to hear them, but still, you can’t bring yourself to say or do something. You just stand there, wrapped in his arms, eyes lost in his, swaying gently to the song.

He brings a hand up to your face and tugs your hair behind your ears, his yes fall to your earring and he can’t help the smile that tugs on his lips.

“I don’t know if this is the right time, but I feel like it is,” he softly starts, seemingly having a hard time to find his words. “Y/N?”

“Yeah?” you breathe out faintly.

“I love you.”

The words almost push you out of your balance, and you feel like you are falling down in a deep, endless hole. He said the words you’ve been aching to hear from him for so long, he really said them and he is looking at you with eyes you’ve only seen in the mirror when you were thinking about telling him about your feelings. But this time the look belongs to him and he is breathlessly waiting for you to say something in return.

“I love you too,” you softly tell him, brushing your fingers gently along his jawline. He breaks a relieved smile, but then furrows his eyebrows in a serious expression.

“Just to make it sure, you are not talking about a friendly love, right?”

You can’t help but let out a chuckle, shaking your head at him.

“No. Not friendly,” you assure him and he sighs in relief again.

“Great, because it would have been really awkward.”

You bite into your bottom lip, shyly staring up at him, a little lost about what should be said or done next, when you hear Owen call out from behind you.

“You guys are standing under the mistletoe! Kiss!”

First you turn to look at him and then you follow the direction where he is pointing and you see that you are in fact standing under a little mistletoe, hanging from the ceiling. Turning to face Tom you shyly smile at him, while he looks way more confident in himself.

“We can’t break the rule,” he chuckles teasingly, making you laugh as well before leaning down he captures your lips in a sweet, breathtaking kiss.

You feel like a teenager again, the butterflies are going wild in your stomach and you’re pretty sure your hands are shaking, but you couldn’t care less. All you could think about is Tom and that you were finally kissing him. Teenage you would lose her mind knowing you finally got to kiss him, after all those years of secretly dreaming about it.

Tom kisses you again and again until you both are breathing heavily, so he pulls back a little, resting his forehead against yours, his hands keeping you close to him.

“Wanna get out of here?” he breathes out and you nod your head eagerly.

“Fuck yes,” you chuckle making him laugh as well before he grabs your hand and pulls you back to the table to grab your stuff and then head out.

You don’t bother to say goodbye, or tell anyone you’ve left, you were busy feeling Tom’s hands touching you wherever he could, his lips finding yours every other minute. You both are a hot mess in the car on the way home and when you finally reach your apartment, you turn on the Christmas lights in your room, before Tom pulls you down to the bed and makes love to you all through the night.

-

general/forever taglist for Tom Holland

i do separate taglists for different people, but not for different works of mine! if you ask to be on my Tom taglist, you’ll be tagged in all of my Tom fics!

@zaahidahhh @shawn-youth  @wildflower-cth @imaginashawnns @haute-shawn  @learning-howto-be-myselfx3 @cutepenguin1 @madatmendes @harrysleftchelseaboot  @sarcasticallywitty15 @dontworrysunflower​

if you’d like to be taken off or added to the list, please let me know!

[timelesslords]

time, mystical time (cutting me open then healing me fine)

Read on AO3

The night the second Giant War ends, Percy and Annabeth sneak out together 

For the first time in what felt like years, Annabeth was able to exhale.

They'd done it. Gaea was gone, the Romans were on their side, various monster armies had been defeated. Sitting on the porch of the Big House with the remaining seven after all was said and done had felt like both one of the most anti-climactic, and heaviest moments of her life. Leo was gone, and she hadn't fully processed that yet, she wondered if she would ever fully process that Leo, so full of life and energy, wasn't there anymore. But compared to the Titan War, casualties had been light.

She still felt on edge, like at any moment the dirt in front of her might rise into Gaea's familiar form, shout "surprise!" and murder them all now that they had their guard down. But the hours passed, night fell, and nothing seemed out of the ordinary. Which, considering how Annabeth's life had gone the past 7 years, was extraordinary in and of itself.

But it still didn't feel right. It didn't feel done . She could breathe out, but breathing in still felt like a struggle, like there was something caught there.

Maybe that was why, once her siblings seemed mostly asleep, Annabeth slipped on her yankees cap and snuck out the door. She reached Cabin 3 easily, and was not at all surprised to find Percy still awake when she tapped on his window. He opened it, letting out a waft of cool sea breeze into the night air. Annabeth pulled off her cap and Percy grinned at her.

"Thank gods, I was wondering if you were ever going to show up." he said.

"Some of us have roommates." Annabeth replied, but she was also smiling. Percy had a conspiratorial grin on his face, the kind that was contagious, and that would make any self-respecting teacher want to cry.

"Give me a sec," He said, disappearing from the window, and returning with a blanket a few moments later. Then he began to climb out.

"You know the door is like six feet away, right?" Annabeth asked, watching with amusement as he maneuvered his way out of the small window hole. Percy managed to slide out of it, his feet landing on solid ground a little harder than he probably intended.

"Yeah, but where's the fun in that?"

"You're ridiculous." Annabeth said. She had not meant for it to come out quite so fondly, but she didn't have the heart to try and correct herself.

"You love me anyways." Percy said happily, taking her hand, lacing his fingers through hers. It felt so easy, so natural, Annabeth could almost forget the past 8 months had happened. Like they were still two kids who had only been through one war in their lifetime instead of two Which, okay, maybe a pretty pathetic ideal, but it still made her feel good.

They made their way down to the beach, careful to avoid the cleaning harpy's regular paths, though Annabeth doubted they were even on curfew duty tonight. There was still tons of debris lying around from the earlier battle that hadn't been fully squared away yet, despite everyone working around the clock to get it done. Though, with help from the Romans, Annabeth thought they could probably have camp looking back to normal in the next day or two. They were scarily efficient. Either way, the harpies were probably taking the night off.

The beach, thankfully, had remained relatively untouched from the battle. There were a few dunes she wasn't sure had been there before, and what looked like a bit of wreckage from one of the orangers. But they ignored both, opting for their favorite spot just above the tideline, in the middle of the beach. Percy set down the blanket, and they laid down on it together, still holding hands.

They were quiet, but that didn't bother Annabeth. Quiet moments with Percy were stupidly hard to come by, and just being next to him made her feel whole again. Even after the weeks they'd spent together, Annabeth hadn't fully recovered from the time she had spent with him missing. She wondered if she would ever fully recover from that, or if she was doomed to dream of him disappearing right before her eyes for the rest of her life.

And that had always been the fear, hadn't it? That he would leave like everyone else in her life had, before she had him? It was her fault they had taken so long to get together, the way she kept pulling away, expecting him to get tired and go. But he hadn't. He had stubbornly stuck around, even when she was mad at him and being mean to him and hadn't really been all that pleasant to be around.

And of course, there was the other thing. The prophecy that had ruled their lives since they were twelve, that Annabeth had read at too young an age, and that she had applied to him from the minute that trident flashed over his head. He wasn't even supposed to be here.

"What are you thinking about?"

Annabeth glanced over at Percy, who had apparently been looking at her for the past few minutes.

"You've got that scrunched up look on your face." He said. He at least had the decency to sound apologetic.

"My face doesn't get scrunched." Annabeth protested, though even as she said it she became aware of the tenseness in her forehead and between her eyes. She rubbed the bridge of her nose.

"It does, when you're thinking hard. Don't worry, it's very cute."

"You're biased." Annabeth said, turning herself so she could look at him straight on.

"Maybe so." Percy said, with a soft smile and a half shrug. It was very easy to forget, sometimes, that they were half gods, but Annabeth saw it in Percy just then. Something beyond human in his touch and his eyes. Something divine. She wasn't sure how she had ever thought it would be possible for him to die. Looking at him now, she would swear up and down he was an immortal.

"I was just thinking about last summer. And the one before that. And all the time we wasted." Annabeth admitted.

"In our defence, we were kind of dumb then." Percy said, hitting her with a trademark grin. Annabeth had to smile back, even as she rolled her eyes.

"Speak for yourself, Seaweed Brain."

"Okay, okay. I was an idiot, and you were as brilliant as ever." Percy amended. Annabeth appreciated his undue faith in her, but it wasn't entirely warranted.

"I wasn't brilliant. I was pragmatic, which is just another kind of stupid if you use it wrong." Annabeth sighed.

"What do you mean?"

"Like," Annabeth started, not sure how to explain what she was thinking in a totally not-morbid way, "I guess I was just thinking about the prophecy the whole time. After the labyrinth especially, I just– I don't know. I was so scared of how it would all play out. I kept pushing you away because I thought it would be easier."

"You thought I was going to die." Percy said. He had a look of careful consideration on his face, free from judgement. He didn't let go of her hand.

"Yes." Annabeth said, feeling guilty as she did, "I mean, I should've known better. Prophecies never play out the way you think they will."

"The summer before. We ended things on weird terms." Percy remembered, "Is that because you thought the time was running out?"

Annabeth shuddered inadvertently. If it was up to her, she would never think about that summer again. It had easily been the worst of her life, maybe even now, and she had some really shitty summers to compare it to.

"It was partially that." Annabeth admitted, "Partially Luke. And... it was also sort of my prophecy. When you disappeared those two weeks and we– I thought you had died, I thought... I thought it was my fault. For bringing you on the quest."

Percy was frowning, like he wasn't quite following what she was saying.

"The last line. The one I didn't tell you about until after." Annabeth prompted.

And lose a love worse than death. Annabeth had been well aware of her crush on Percy at that point, but she hadn't fully, truly realized she was in love with him until she had thought he'd died for her prophecy. It was the absolute worst moment to have that clarity. Thankfully she had gotten a do-over of sorts, but it was hard to forget that kind of pain. That probably was why she had avoided him the rest of the summer, more than anything else, because she after she knew that she loved him the thought of losing him again, which had felt desperately inevitable at the time, was absolutely excruciating.

Percy's eyes widened in understanding.

"Oh. Oh. Oh gods, I was an idiot. I didn't even realize how much of an idiot I was for that." he said, "After you kissed me and everything. I just never put it together."

Annabeth couldn't help but laugh a little at the expression on his face.

"It's okay." she said.

"Did I ever apologize for that? I'm really sorry."

"You don't have to apologize. I tortured you enough after the fact."

"You did do that. I deserved it though. Gods." Percy said, rolling onto his back, looking up at the stars.

"Rachel didn't though." Annabeth said. She still felt a little twinge of guilt at how she'd treated Rachel the first few times they'd met. Looking back on it, it really didn't have much to do with Rachel at all; she had mostly been mad at herself, and Percy. Herself for not being brave enough to make a move, Percy for having a crush on a girl who wasn't her, after all they'd been through together. Not exactly fair feelings all around, but at least they'd been equally distributed. And she'd apologized to Rachel afterwards.

"No, probably not." Percy agreed.

"I was just mad, I guess. Luke was gone for good. Thalia had left, and I knew she had to, but it still hurt. And I thought I was going to lose you to her and then you were going to die, again, sort of, and it was all just kind of unbearable."

"I'm sorry. That you had to do that alone." Percy said, squeezing her hand, "I wish I had been better about it. I just didn't really know what to do."

"It's not your fault." Annabeth said. Then, after a moment of contemplation

"Though you could have at least acknowledged the kiss."

Percy groaned, covering his face with his free hand.

"I was so dumb. I still didn't know if you liked me after that. I thought you just wanted to forget about it."

"Well, after you didn't mention it, maybe." Annabeth said, a little teasingly. It was nice to just be able to sit here and talk about things. The past few months had been pretty hellish, but one thing they had done was put things in perspective. It was easy to laugh at their awkward 15-year-old selves' interactions now, while it might've still been uncomfortable a few months ago.

Of course, if Percy hadn't disappeared out of nowhere, they probably would've reached this point in their relationship organically, without all the trauma on the side. But if she thought about that for too long she would just get angry, and she didn't want to ruin the moment. It was a nice moment. The type of moment she wanted to have with him over and over again, until they both died of old age. For the first time that actually felt like an achievable goal.

"Can I get a do-over?" Percy asked, his trouble-maker smile back on his face. Annabeth grinned back.

"You can have as many do-overs as you want."

He leaned over and kissed her, soft and sweet, and frankly much better than the hurried, frantic one in the volcano had been.

"Annabeth Chase," he said as he pulled away, "I am acknowledging that that was an amazing kiss. I hope to have many more amazing kisses with you, for the rest of our lives."

Annabeth laughed and kissed him again, because she had the time, and they finally had the world to themselves again, and now that he had kissed her again, any time not spent kissing him felt like a waste.

"You're very good at that. Have I ever told you you're very good at that?" Percy said, when they finally broke apart again.

"Well, I had lots of practice before you." Annabeth said, unable to stop the sly smile from spreading across her lips.

"Like who?" Percy asked, indignantly. He was joking, but she could tell there was a note of genuine surprise there.

"Oh, lets see." Annabeth said, rolling back onto her back, fingers still laced through Percy's, "There was Zach, from elementary school. He wasn't very good, but practice is practice. And then Jake from that boarding school–"

"You kissed guys at your boarding school?"

"Oh sure. I was sad and you weren't around, I had to make do. I made out with Connor once, that was an experience."

"Our Connor? Connor Stoll?" Percy asked, unable to mask his surprise. Annabeth bit down a giggle.

"Yeah, on a dare. He wasn't so bad, really, but he could have used a little less ton–"

"Okay, okay, I get the point," Percy said hurriedly, and Annabeth finally let herself laugh.  

"Don't worry, you're better than all of them put together." Annabeth said, reaching around her own head and patting his with her spare hand.

"Are you sure you're not just saying that?" Percy asked.

"Mm. Might have to double check." Annabeth said, keeping her voice as serious as she could possibly make it.

"Oh yeah?" Percy said, and it was a dare to him now, which meant that teasing him so much had either been a bad idea, or a really really good one.

"Yeah." Annabeth said, and in a strange way she felt freer than she had before. Like a huge weight had been lifted off her chest.

Annabeth breathed in the salty sea air, revelling in the inhale. She might've started to cry if he hadn't kissed her then, but it was just as well. They had plenty of time.

[ichorai]

goldstorm and bug boy! ; 12.34 am.

pairing ; spiderman!yunho x antihero!reader

synopsis ; the one with arson and bejeweled leather jackets.

words ; 1.2k

warnings ; cursing, arson </3

goldstorm and bug boy! masterlist.

Yunho knew he shouldn’t have bought you that pretty black lighter for your one-year partner-versary. But he couldn’t help himself; especially not after seeing you practically press up against the window pane, quipping about how pretty the flames would look coming out of them with agape lips and blown pupils.

It’s not like you even smoked all that much. You just… liked fire. Alright, perhaps he should’ve thought it through a tad more.

Here the two of you were, standing in the middle of an abandoned warehouse, once the sanctuary to a notorious biker gang, known not to be impervious to theft and roughhousing. You were crouched down by the corner, rifling through a pile of dusty clothes.

“Be careful, Y/N,” Yunho warned as he strode away to observe broken lights and mirrors thrown into the back. “Never know if they’ve left something to detonate.”

And of course, you heeded no mind to his precautions, sifting out a fitting leather jacket, studded with opalescent gems. The worn dark grey leather would perfectly compliment the obsidian-and-gold colors of your hero garb. A cheshire-like grin festered across your face as you shrugged it over the lycra fabric of your suit, turning to Yunho with widely spread arms. “How do I look?”

Yunho merely offered you a distracted hum, glancing at you just momentarily before settling his eyes upon the bullets scattered across the musty floor of the warehouse. He kneeled down by the empty shells, running scans with his built-in mask system. There was something about his muted concentration that had you turning away from him with a roll of your eyes. Yunho was no fun when he was in work mode.

After about a minute, he spotted a flicker of light waver into fruition from the corners of his eyes, but he merely brushed it off as you fiddling around with the few lamps that weren’t broken.

Oh, how wrong he was.

It started with the slight sensation of warmth blossoming along his skin. A regular human would’ve taken longer to notice, but Yunho picked up on the distinct scent of smoke just three seconds after you ran the noir lighter he had gifted you just beneath the wooden support slants. Then came the first crackle of the sprouting fire, licking up the dry bark greedily.

Yunho turned in a panicked daze, eyes widening at the sight of you staring up at the flaming wooden support pillars with… was that adoration in your eyes or was he tripping?

“Oh, fuck, Y/N, get away from there!” Yunho scrambled back up to his feet, reaching you across the warehouse in no less than two elongated strides, slapping the lighter out of your hand and gathering you into his arms to tug out the door. Much to his dismay, it was already too late. The amber flames crept across the wooden slats and practically consumed the warehouse’s roof in a blazing inferno in just under two minutes.

Yunho was sweating now, beads of perspiration dampening his skin as he scrambled every which way to grab the last few pieces of evidence left of the disappearing biker gang. He had done so after gathering you in his arms and all but tossed your complaining, bejeweled leather jacket-clad form out the door, steered clear of harm’s way. Fuck, just why did he have to get you that pretty lighter?

Because you like Y/N, said the slimy voice in his head. Yunho rolled out of the way as a pillar groaned and collapsed in a mess of ashes and char and clementine flames. More than a superhero partner should.

He really didn’t have the time to think about silly passing crushes at the moment.

Yunho stumbled out of the double doors just before the warehouse crumbled in on itself, destroying the last bits of evidence in singeing flames. The thudding of his heart rang in his ears, a dark symphony of panic’s aftermath. You were just behind him, scuffing the weeds growing between the cracks in the sidewalk with the sole of your shoe, glancing at the flames with a faint smile.

To be frank, Yunho hadn’t the heart to be angry with you. Your partner pinched his fingers between his brows with a weary sigh. “Did you really just… set the warehouse on fire? Tell me you didn’t, Y/N.”

“Not gonna lie to you, bud,” you hummed. “I totally did. What about it?”

“What about it? Damn it, Y/N, we’ve talked about this before! No setting things on fire while we’re on a mission unless it’s the absolute last resort.”

“I know what you said,” you muttered, grumbling. “ I did that for you, you know.”

There was a moment of silence, and Yunho could swear his heart skipped a beat.

“What does that mean?”

You stepped closer to him, and Yunho wished you hadn’t. You smelled nice; like honey and vanilla and your shared lavender laundry detergent. He, on the other hand, probably smelled like he had just stepped out of a barbecue grill smoking dirty socks.

“The biker gang is gone, Yunho. They left and promised me they wouldn’t come back. It’s out of our hands now. If… if I hadn’t burned down the warehouse you would’ve spent the next six months obsessing over nothing. And I can’t let you go down that rabbit hole again. Not after what happened last time.” It was strange to hear your voice so calm and collected. Were you even the same person that set the warehouse on fire? With nimble fingers, you tugged his mask off his face so you could stare at him eye-to-eye. “As you always like to say, ‘it’s for the greater good’ bullshit, right? I did this for you, idiot. Now… let’s enjoy the show, shall we?”

Spiderman fumbled for words, lips slightly agape as he hesitated.

And after a moment to collect his rampant thoughts, Yunho placed a hand on your shoulder, leaning against you tiredly. He didn’t want to fight with you. Granted, the two of you often fought over trivial things such as best ice cream flavors and which Friends character was the worst, but you hardly ever got seriously angry with him. It’d never boiled down to true rage before, and Yunho wasn’t quite keen on starting a real fight now. “Okay. Okay, you win. Just… just promise me you’ll never spontaneously set things on fire without telling me. You could’ve gotten hurt.”

“No, I wouldn’t. I’m perfectly capable of evading flames on my own. Saying this from personal experience,” you snorted, shoving at his arm. “Besides, you basically threw me out of the warehouse like I was a stack of hay.”

“I was just protecting you,” he gently reminded, watching the way the fire’s honeyed reflection seemed to dance and twirl in your irises. There was a queer sort of pride in your gaze that Yunho couldn’t really quite pinpoint whether it was a good thing or a bad thing. “I worry about you way too much. Every time you step out our door I swear I lose five years of my lifespan.”

“Shut up and watch the fire, Yunho,” you mumbled, tilting your head to the side ever so slightly so it just barely brushed against his forearm. His Adam's apple bobbed as he swallowed nervously. Fuck, he was in too deep to get out now.

[alonely-dreamer]

The Valuable Sun | Chapter 23 (Part 3)

Summary: Brooke and Eric have work to do.

Pairing: Eric x OC

Warnings: 18+

A/N: Please, note that I am French so there might be some mistakes here and there.

Words: 2688

Masterlist

Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 | Chapter 3 | Chapter 4 | Chapter 5 | Chapter 6| Chapter 7 | Chapter 8 | Chapter 9 | Chapter 10 | Chapter 11 | Chapter 12 | Chapter 13 | Chapter 14 | Chapter 15 | Chapter 16 | Chapter 17 | Chapter 18 | Chapter 19 | Chapter 20 | Chapter 21 | Chapter 22 | Chapter 23 (Part 1) | Chapter 23 (Part 2)

Tags: @parabatai-winchester​

To say that Brooke and Sookie were having a hard time was an understatement. Sookie, after killing Debbie and having Pam turn Tara into a vampire, was judged and hated by all, and she had come back from work a wreck, and had dove into the cabinet were gran had always kept the alcohol. She turned on the stereo, and the loud music woke Brooklynne up.

She had spent the entire day in bed, and even though she kept waking up and kept having the worst lucid dreams, she stayed under the covers until way after sunset.

Not only the music was loud, but Brooke could hear her sister’s devastating thoughts. She had cast Bill away from her mind, she had enough humans judging her for her to worry about the traitorous bastard her vampire ex-boyfriend had turned out to be. She was so drunk she couldn’t hear Brooke think really, really, loudly that she wished she’d turn down the music a bit. Perhaps Sookie didn’t even know her sister was in her bedroom upstairs. She rarely were anymore.

Lafayette called. He had found Sookie’s car destroyed against a tree, and wanted to check on her. She was fine, apparently, she had jumped out of the car at the right time, and had even found it funny. She must be really drunk, Brooke thought.

She heard another train of thoughts approach the house, but his smell told her who he was before she could even hear anything. Sookie was waiting for another well deserved scolding from the werewolf but was surprised to hear Alcide had told Debbie’s parents some lie about how the Alpha from their pack had slept with her then killed her. Good. Because if Alcide had told the truth and Sookie had been sent to jail, not much would have been left of the werewolf after that night.

She tried to tune out the party that was going on downstairs, but it was either listening to Alcide and Sookie’s drunk thoughts about each other or thinking about her own issues. And she really didn’t want to think about Eric at the moment.

When Sookie and Alcide started to make out on their grandmother’s couch, she thought about leaving the house, not only to give them some privacy but also because she really didn’t want to hear any of it.

But then she heard his voice. Or rather, his thoughts. Bill was standing right there, outside of their house, watching the werewolf and the fairy take each other’s clothes off. A creep until the end. Brooklynne felt like fighting, and he had just given her a reason to beat his ass.

She sped out of her house, wearing nothing but a tight shirt and silk shorts and went straight to Bill whom she pushed away with supernatural strength. The King of Louisiana landed in the cemetery near the house.

“What are you doing here?” she asked as if he were still standing right in front of her.

It took a couple of seconds for him to get back on his feet and return to his spot.

“You know, I am still your King.”

“What are you gonna do?”

Bill sighed. “I get that you’re mad, but…”

“But nothing. Leave my sister alone.”

“I didn’t come here for Sookie.”

“What then?”

“I told him to meet us here,” Eric said as he appeared beside his King. “Granted, he could’ve picked a better spot.”

“Weren’t we supposed to go with Alcide?” she asked, remembering the plan. “He’s drunk now.”

“Clearly,” Eric mumbled.

“Let’s sober him up,” Bill said, and Brooke had no doubt he was more than happy to put a stop to the party.

***

Alcide took them to Doug, the employee that had found the hole in the parking lot. The werewolf had been smart not to ask about the obvious tension between the vampires while they drove in his van to the site.

Doug was a chubby man almost as tall as Alcide. His hair was longer, and so was his beard. He seemed shy and squeamish, and didn’t feel comfortable with whatever was happening. They had taken them to Russell’s former resting place where fresh cement had been poured to cover the hole. Brooklynne asked Doug to hold her hand and close his eyes and focus on that night, on what he saw. He had been glamoured by the vampire who had dug up Russell and it was harder for her to get any useful images from his mind.

“It’s a woman,” Brooke said. “She’s digging up Russell with her hands.”

Russell appeared like a bloody overgrown baby with no skin and the memory made Doug start to shake in fear.

“What the fuck is this?” he asks as if he were living it for the first time.

“Wait,” Brooke squeezed his hand harder as he tried to step away. “It’s Nora,” she breathed out.

“That’s not possible,” Eric said, trying to ignore Bill’s ‘I told you so’ look.

“She has the same necklace.”

“It could be any member of the Authority, then. Do you see Nora’s face?”

“No, just the necklace.”

“So we don’t know for certain it’s her,” Eric insisted. “It’s not Nora, it can’t be. She thought Russell was dead. She risked her life to free us.”

“Can I go now?” Doug asked.

But they were far from done.

The woman, whom according to Eric was not Nora, had Doug scoop Russell up like a baby and take him into an abandoned facility at the other end of town. That was their next destination.

In the van, Eric and Bill kept arguing about Nora while Brooklynne, helped by Doug’s blurry memory, led Alcide to Russell’s location.

“She’s a traitor and a liar, just like her brother,” Bill spat at the sheriff who showed fangs at the insult. Bill followed suit.

“Take that back,” Eric growled.

But the fight was cut short as Bill’s phone started ringing. Brooke couldn’t help but listen.

“Hello?”

“Hey, guys. It’s Molly. Remember me? Giving you a shout-out to let you know your countdown has started.”

“Our countdown?”

“Yeah, your iStakes are set to activate at dawn. Bummer, right?”

“There must be some kind of mistake.”

“No, I’m launching a test. Is your iStake glowing?”

Brooke took a look at the two vampires at the back of the van. Eric opened his jacket and a red light was coming from under his shirt, right where his heart was. iStake. It sounded stupid, but scary. That was what she had felt the previous night when he had held her against his chest. And that stupid but scary thing would kill Eric if they didn’t find Russell before the end of the night. She looked up at her maker with a heart and eyes full of worry. They wouldn’t have time after all. She wouldn’t have time to forgive him. And as he stared back at her, she saw in his eyes that it was okay. That he knew.

“Yeah, they’re glowing…”

“Cool. Means we’re good to go. Good luck. And if you don’t make it, it’s been rad serving you. Peace out.”

Brooklynne wanted to tear that Molly apart for the total indifference she showed at her maker’s True Death. But she had bigger problems. They all did.

Doug was reluctant to enter the building, but all Alcide wanted was for it to be over, so he dragged him in and started looking.

“Wolves have been here,” he sniffed.

“They come with Russell,” Bill said with a sigh, wondering which would kill him first, the iStake or a werewolf.

The building was an abandoned asylum. Brooklynne would find it ironic that Russell would hide here but she was too anxious to find it even remotely funny.

They dragged Doug, or rather Doug led them, through Brooke, down to the morgue, walking pass freshly severed hands and other dead bodies being eaten by rats.

“Well, at least we’re in the right place,” Eric said.

“The morgue,” Bill thought aloud as they walked pass the indications on the wall. “How convenient.”

Helped by a flashlight, Doug and Alcide followed the vampires into the darkness of the basement. Hearing, or perhaps sensing something Doug couldn’t, the vampires revealed their fangs as Alcide said:

“We’re being watched.”

Doug had reached his limits and let go of Brooklynne before he ran away. Knowing it was a bad idea to leave the human alone in this abandoned asylum where a three thousand year old psychopath was hiding, Alcide went after him. It was only when Doug started screaming that the three vampires followed him.

They found what seemed to be Russell’s pantry, where over a dozen humans were hanging from hooks like pigs in a butchery. A man started begging for his life, begging for them to take someone else, anyone else but him.

“Where do they take the prisoners?” Bill asked him.

“Down the hallway. There’s screaming and then there’s not!”

“What do we do with them?” Brooke asked.

“We’ll come back for them after we’re done with Russell,” Eric said before turning around and exiting the room, followed by the rest of his suicide squad.

Stakes in hands, they made their way to the end of the hallway where they found Russell lying on a hospital bed. He looked pale and sick, even coughed a few times. He looked almost human. Almost.

“Ah, miss Stackhouse. I see you’ve joined us,” he said with an eerie smile.

“We came here to finish what we started,” Eric told him as he approached.

“Well… give it your best shot.”

Russell’s smile grew bigger before Alcide, who was still standing in the hallway, behind Brooke, got jumped by a wolf.

“Eric!” Brooke shouted as a wolf launched itself at her maker.

She went to help him but was stopped by Russell who positioned himself between her and the Viking.

“Mmh, you’re just what the doctor ordered,” he smirked. “I’m sure becoming one of us just made your fairy blood even stronger.”

He trapped her against a wall and as he aimed for her throat she used her light to push him away. His back hit the wall at the other end of the hallway and he collapsed on the floor painfully.

“Yeah,” he cackled like a maniac as he sat up and leaned against the wall, “there is that aspect of you which I loathe.”

Eric killed the wolf that was after him then sped towards Russell. He crouched to get to his level then seized his face and made him look away from Brooklynne and directly at him.

“Look at me. I want to be the last thing you ever see,” he growled as he directed his stake towards his heart.

But before he had the chance to make a big mistake, Bill had his own stake aimed at Eric’s heart.

“He dies, we die. Most certainly. But if we take him back alive, maybe we don’t have to die.”

“Unlikely.”

“But not impossible.”

“Eric! Please,” Brooke begged. “He’s right!”

Eric snarled but eventually let go of his stake and put his fangs away. Russell used this short moment of weakness to pick up the disregarded weapon and attack the Viking. In less than a second, Eric was on his back, Russell on top of him, the sharp tip of the stake on his heart. Brooke moved fast and once again used her light to push Russell away from the man she loved.

It all happened really fast, and Brooke barely had time to register what was happening, as a group of heavily armed soldiers came in. Half of them had their guns pointed at Russell and the other half at her own heart.

“Freeze!”

Russell surrendered without protest, the red lights now aiming at his chest. One move and he’d be a pool of blood.

A tall, black man all dressed in black, from his shoes to his cap, joined them and stared at Brooklynne like she was the worst thing he had ever seen in his entire life. Eric quickly positioned himself between her and the man who was obviously the one giving orders here.

“What is this?” he asked with a strong accent.

“She’s mine,” Eric growled.

“Yours?”

“My progeny.”

There was no hiding anymore, no lying anymore. They had seen it. The light, the speed. It was useless to deny it, they were damned either way, and if they had to die tonight, they were at least going to be honest about it.

“What is she?”

… Well, half a truth was better than a complete lie…

“She’s a vampire.”

Russell chuckled.

“Lie,” the commander hissed.

“I turned her myself.”

“I suppose we will see what Guardian has to say about… this,” he said, looking around at the room where two dead werewolves were lying naked next to Bill. “Wolf and human are here,” he continued as Alcide appeared behind him, buttoning his jeans. “Why?”

“Doug led us here,” Bill started to explain. “Nothing that a little glamouring won’t take care of.”

“Do it,” the commander agreed before he exited the room.

After thoroughly glamouring Alcide, Eric made sure he got out safely and wasn’t stopped by any of the soldiers that the Chancellor had brought with him.

“He’s fine, he got in his van and is driving home,” Eric told Brooklynne as he saw the worried look in her eyes, though she didn’t worry about Alcide, she knew the werewolf would be okay.

Eric sighed.

“I’m sorry,” he whispered as he cupped her cheeks with his hands. “This is what I wanted to keep you safe from.”

He placed a kiss on her forehead before bringing her to his chest. He rested his chin on her head as she hugged him back. Still, no word came out of her mouth.

***

Chancellor Akinjide seemed impressed, and though he wouldn’t let Brooklynne go, he had stopped looking at her with disgust but rather with curiosity.

“No one thought you two would actually be able to deliver Russell Edgington,” he told them as he led them out of the building and into a van. “Guardian will be extremely pleased.”

“Pleased enough to not execute us?” Eric asked as he sat next to Brooklynne.

“Only Lilith knows that.”

“As only she knows all,” Bill replied with a smirk.

The chancellor didn’t reply as he closed the doors of the van, trapping them inside the vehicle.

“Who’s Lilith?”

“Enough with this religious bullshit already,” Eric sighed. “Lilith can fucking blow me.”

“No, she certainly cannot!”

Bill chuckled.

“Lilith is like the God of vampires,” he explained.

“And why are you suddenly so into it?” Eric asked his King.

“I’m just covering my ass.”

“Are you telling me the Authority is a religious government?”

“It could be worse,” Eric said. “They could take the word of the Vampire Bible literally.”

“The what? The what?!”

“At least the sanguanista aren’t in charge…”

“Who…”

“Don’t worry about it,” Eric told her as he took her hand in his. “I’ll explain on the way to New-Orleans.”

“New-O…” she stopped. “Are we… are they… Are we going to die tonight?”

She caught his eyes and saw. They were most probably going to be executed tonight, and she would be questioned and experimented on and maybe they’ll use her blood to give the sun to all vampires… And everything he had done to keep her safe was crumbling down on him, breaking him apart as this voice inside of his head screamed at him that it was his fault and that he should have known better.

He wiped a tear off her cheek and took her chin between his fingers. He tried to give her his most sincere smile as he said: “I love you.” And he didn’t wait for her to say it back because hearing those words coming out of her mouth would kill him before dawn. So he kissed her forehead and rested his cheek on her head, hoping, praying to whatever God there was that he hadn’t just sentenced the woman he loved to death.

[writing-in-april]

Russian Roulette

Spencer Reid x Female Unsub Reader

Thanks to my beta readers! @definitelynotkatesblog and @clean-bands-dirty-stories

WARNINGS: NSFW, SMUT, MAJOR TRIGGER WARNING

Includes: Suicide, Attempted Suicide, Toxic Relationship, Gun kink, Angsty smut -There is no specific dominant person in the smut-

A/N: Please do not read if you are easily triggered or under the age of 18. This was really difficult to write but I am really happy the way it came out! I have a playlist I made for writing this if anyone is wanting it just ask! My requests are open for basically any character you can think of, I want to branch out and write lots of characters!

Word count: 3.2k

Masterlist

——

The warehouse that I had found myself masking my location in was in no doubt the most ghastly place I had chosen yet. I wasn’t sure what drew me to the abandoned depository, maybe I had subtly acknowledged to myself that I was at the end of my rope-I knew I couldn’t run forever. The smoke colored walls matched the ashes dropping from the cigarette I had lit to alleviate my anxiety. The cat and mouse game I had been playing with the team that was on my trail was coming to an end. They had an extra vendetta set out against me since I cruelly betrayed the trust built between us. Polluted air swirled around me as I dug my nose in a book, trying to distract myself from my impending doom.

A noise drew my thoughts away from Catcher in the Rye that I had been reading while sat on a shitty mattress, practically the only furniture in this hole in the wall. My manicured nails snuffed out the cigarette into the bed and discarded the paperback, knowing that this was the start of the end. The double doors swung open as the recognizable silhouette Dr. Reid, his shadow was tall and lanky, with noticeable wild curls that looked as if he had rolled out of bed. He finally graced my eyes with the details of his figure, every step he took had lingering hesitation. It had been weeks since I had last seen him, he looked considerably more tired since he had last graced me with his presence, purple dark rings sat under his eyes, his hair even more disheveled then normal, and his clothes lacked the crisp ironing that he usually sported. I hated that I was the one that had caused his disheveled state, I had found a kindred spirit in Dr. Reid. It seemed like we were made for one another, our interests were exactly aligned, the only major thing that separated us was my penchant for murdering people. He was the first person I had felt connected to since my mother and it pained me to see that my betrayal had obviously weighed heavy on his mind.

“I see you finally found me.” I stated nonchalantly as I stood up, he was standing as far away as he could, from my observation it was evident he was disgusted with me but he was still drawn to me like a moth to a flame. He nodded solemnly, the words that he wanted to speak seemed caught in his throat, so instead his eyes bored into my soul. We stood in contemplation just staring at each other, we were only a few feet away from each other but it felt as if we were worlds apart.

“Was it ever real?” He finally spoke up in a shaky voice, his lip quivering in either anger or sadness. “Did you feel what I felt?”

“I hadn’t been real to anyone in a long time until I met you.” I spoke honestly, though I wasn’t sure if he believed me.

I felt the memory of our first meeting flash before my eyes, a murderer had crashed into my hometown, killing important people with checkered pasts. Politicians, lawyers, and police officers- no one was safe. My job as a therapist put me straight into the cesspit of what I viewed as the worst of humanity, slimy high ranking fixtures of the community. I often felt my skin crawling as sick human beings put on a facade of perfection hiding their nefarious deeds behind closed doors, so I began taking care of them by slitting their throats in the dead of night.

When the BAU rolled into our city they immediately put everyone connected with the victims into protective custody. There wasn’t an immediately obvious motive so the team had collected anyone with an important role putting each person with a specific team member. I had been put with the genius of the team Dr. Reid. The stay in the safe house with him made our relationship blossom, we shared interests, hobbies, and even our backstories (I had edited mine a bit so they wouldn’t catch on). Usually I viewed the world as black and white good or evil and until I met Dr. Reid I hadn’t felt grey before just a dark cesspool of no emotion.

I had never even spoken his first name, I had told him that- “Someone who earned 3 PHDs should have their achievements recognized all the time.” I still couldn’t deny these strange feelings that welled up inside of me, no matter how hard I tried to distance myself.

When I had been spotted by the doctor running from the scene of a crime I could practically hear his heart break and to be honest mine did too. I never wanted him to see this side of me that I kept buried, I had wanted to stop for a while even after that first kill but what had first started out as vigilantism turned into a compulsion to kill.

His screams broke me out of my reminiscing my eyes snapped up to see the doctor holding his gun, pointing it straight at my heart.

“WHY?! Why you?” He broke out of his previous calm facade, letting me in on the anger I had stirred underneath.

“You know the profile Doctor you tell me” I asked, though no answer was given.

The gun was shaking in his hands, his fury boiling over, steam was practically coming out of his ears.

“Pull the trigger Dr. Reid. It’s what we’ve both been waiting for, isn’t it? Let’s skip the reminiscing. So go on. Pull the trigger.” His grip faltered, he wasn’t sure where to go from here, should he take you in? Or completely screw regulation and take out his unbridled rage on the woman who had cruelly stolen his heart by shooting her.

The weapon was lowered, his hands still shook in fury as he put it back snugly in its place. I already knew he had called his team, no matter what he felt for me before there was no way he would risk his career to let me go. Even though I had accepted the cards that had been dealt I wasn’t going to let them take me alive. Tentatively I stepped forward, wanting to gain a semblance of closeness between us before I sacrificed myself, his body was rigid in its place as our chests touched.

I pulled the gun from his his side holster, it was an odd gun for an FBI agent to carry, a revolver to be exact. My fingers gripped the curved cedar handle, dragging it across Dr. Reid’s clothed collarbones, his arms were stiff at his sides unmoving. He was unsure of my intentions with the weapon. He knew logically that I was cornered in this abandoned warehouse with no escape, and obviously I couldn’t do much with a single revolver, that’s why he had only put one round in, reserved only for my heart if the trigger was needed to be pulled. Then I softly, with uncharacteristic tenderness, grabbed the good doctor’s hand with my free hand to guide his large palms to envelope my hand over the gun. He seemed flustered, which was odd to me, his resolve of hatred had never weakened around me until now. Our hands were clasping the gun in unison, the clammy palms of Dr. Reid cradled my own as I reached over and spun the chamber to land on a random spot.

I prided myself on the ability to read people but I couldn’t ascertain the reason behind the evident hesitation in his eyes as I encouraged him to carefully set the revolver snug against my jaw. Was it possible he had developed a care for me or did this just boil down to fear of having an unsub handle his gun. His breathe was mixed with mine, I held my pattern evenly while his had become ragged, strong enough to whisp my hair away from my face. With a flick I unlocked the safety and a genuine smile graced my face, if these were my final moment I was glad I got to spend it with Dr. Reid, he brought me a strange sense of comfort that I had never known before. His whole body was shaking as my forefinger moved to the trigger- he almost looked as if he was going to cry. A resounding click echoed off the dull gray walls of my hiding place, I had momentarily escaped my fate.

Dr. Reid suddenly smashed his lips onto mine breaking me out of the brief relief. My body had grown rigid against his movements, I wasn’t used to emotional connections with anyone and they certainly were never romantic. Just the delicate touch of his hand on my hip was more care then I had ever been shone before.

My cold exterior that I had carefully constructed was now in ruins because of Doctor reid. He was the only one who truly saw who I was, past my trauma and the trauma I caused. I melted into his forceful kiss, the unspoken tension that we had created finally was boiling over. It was full of tongue and teeth, our noses bumping as we poured our feelings into the kiss, speaking without ever making a sound. My back collided with the nearest wall, dust flying off to coat our bodies, his knee parted my legs and rested between my thighs. His spare hand left my hip to cradle my cheek practically engulfing my face with his large palm, raking the soft pads of his fingertips across my skin.

The silver barrel still rested under my chin being held precariously by our joined grip, Dr. Reid’s hand left my cheek, snaking its way down to the waistband of my pants. The tips of his fingers danced at the edge building anticipation in my veins.

He suddenly pulled the gun out from under my chin and set it under his own, my eyes widened in confusion my desire vanishing by the second. I tried to pull our unified hold away from his jawline but unfortunately he was stronger then me.

“I don’t know if I can live without you” he choked out, he had used his profiling skills deducing that I was going to sacrifice myself. He spun the wheel setting the bullet in another indiscriminate position, resetting the stakes all over again.

“It’ll be ok.” I begged desperately trying to talk him away from the ledge, just because I had wasted my life didn’t mean he had to as well. I brought my available appendage and covered the outside of his hand continuing my efforts to pull the gun away from his grasp. He shook his head, tears were freely falling from the both of us, mixing together to form a salty pool. His fingers slipping underneath my encased hand finding the trigger with ease, he pulled it quickly a sickening click resounded through the stale atmosphere. Once I was satisfied that he had survived air quickly left my body releasing the breath that I had held tightly in my lungs.

Mimicking his reaction from earlier I submerged us into another kiss, this one was tinged with my anger from his reckless move. I voiced my displeasure surrounding his actions by biting into his lip, bruising the plush tender skin. A groan escaped from him, the salacious kiss was now tainted with blood from his lips mixing together in gory harmony.

Undulating my hips onto the thigh that still sat between my legs, desire snuck itself back inside of me, rebuilding what had been banished. I suddenly had the urge to remove every cloth barrier that remained between us, I needed him now. Dr. Reid clearly shared the sentiment as he started pulling on the clothing covering my body. I did my best to shuck off his plum colored blazer with my available phalanges while he attempted to snap open the front of my pants. Our hands still were glued the wooden hilt of the gun that was rooted in its spot at the edge of the doctor’s jaw. The buttons of his dress shirt popped around us as my painted nails dug into the cotton, tearing the offensive fabric from his body. With frantic inelegant movement our outer clothing was ripped off our forms, the only barrier that lingered was our undergarments. His nimble fingertips wound around to the clasp of my bra tugging forcefully the clasp broke, freeing me from its confinement.

The lace was discarded in hast revealing my breasts to him he surged forward capturing my nipple in his mouth as my hips ground into his thigh. Circling my bud he glanced upwards, taking in the sight of my flushed cheeks, hair slicked with sweat, and the gun that I had swiftly moved to my temple removing it from his mandible. Excitement prickled in my core as he meandered down to where I craved him the most, he fisted the mesh- the last remaining remnant of clothing covering my body. A tearing noise filled the space, reverberating around us as the mesh separating us was torn away from me, revealing my full form.

His deft fingers gathered the building excitement between my folds, then he brought them to make contact with my clit. He rubbed slow harsh figure 8s against my pearl, I could feel myself getting wetter- which I didn’t think was possible. The ministrations continued for a while, but I was antsy to get his fingers inside of me. A beg almost fell from my mouth when all of a sudden with no warning his fingers plunged into my heat making my body convulse around him. He curled them expertly, nudging them perfectly at my g spot making the pit in my stomach grow and spread throughout my entire body.

Our hold had started to loosen on the gun so I clutched around the revolver tighter tugging our entangled fingers to rest the metal shaft perfectly against my temple. Upping the stakes further I rapidly clicked the trigger, the gun still had not administered its bullet into my brain, making the obscene act even better then before. His eyes held fear for a moment but couldn’t help his reaction to the clicks, a deep seated groan from deep in his chest. The sensations flowing through my body almost became too much to bear as he moved his thumb to my clit. My back arched against the wall as he sunk the blunt edges of his teeth into my collarbone while flicking against my clit with his thumb, sending me closer to bliss. He must have discerned that I was close to the edge and pulled his fingers away, his knuckles bumping against my g spot one last time which pulled a pathetic whimper from my throat while screwing my eyes shut.

I heard the tell tale sign of a belt buckle clinking causing my eyes to snap open, his full body was finally on display for me. My eyes drank in the sight before me, the doctor was just as I had imagined in my dreams, not too thick but long enough that I thought it might not fit. I reached forward to pump his length spitting into my palm as I jerked him off.

“Jump.” He whispered desperately into the shell of my ear, with careful precision my legs wrapped around his naked torso as I locked him in. The gun was the only barrier that remained between us as he lined himself up to my entrance and thrusted in one swift motion, breaching my walls for the first time.

“Fuck.” The soft expletive fell from his rose hued lips on the column of my throat making my toes curl.

His hips snapped into mine starting a pace with deliberate deep thrusts, my free arm wrapped around his neck trying to pull him in as close as possible. My fingers then wound through his messy curls yanking back so I could pepper kisses along the nape of his neck earning a sharp grunt from Dr. Reid as he picked up the pace. I bit the inside of my cheek in concern as he moved the gun to be placed under his jaw again. Tears started to fall again from my eyes as I silently pleaded for him not to pull the trigger, he ignored my pleas and reset the bullet to a random position once more. His rhythm faltered as the gun clicked for the fifth time, I knew we were testing fate too much at this point and that our luck was running out.

He kept the gun in its position while he picked up his momentum resuming his previous pace. My blood red nails dug into any part of him that I could grab onto leaving red streaks down his chest, back, and biceps as he reached parts of me that I didn’t even think existed. Our eyes locked together as his cock brushed against my g spot causing me to clench around him, we both moaned at the sensation hurtling us both closer to release.

I reached my hand down to rub harshly on my clit as I felt my climax coming just around the corner, my eyes rolling back in response to the added titillation. I then dragged our encapsulated hands away from Spencer pulling the barrel inside my mouth, his fingers flexed around mine anxiously as he soft whispers into my ear attempting to save me from myself. We both had somehow sensed that it was the end, I thought it was very fitting to end my life in the arms of the only person in the world I could find myself caring about. He didn’t stop his thrusts but they were now at a slow languid pace trying to savor every last moment he had with me.

“Spencer” I moaned in bittersweet symphony as I let myself kiss his bruised lips for the last time, our tears were falling giving our kiss a salty taste. A feeling of bliss suddenly overtook my body as I came in glorious crescendo. I rode out my high before I accepted my fate, my blood pounding in my ears for the final time. The wall was painted with blood as I pulled the trigger, ending my life with a bang.

*****

The shot rang in Spencer’s ears, it took him a minute to realize what had happened and that the object of his desire was gone. He was still holding the gun as the body of his unattainable love slumped onto him in death, his face speckled with scarlet. Finally the offending object slipped through his fingers clattering on the floor as he cradled her body.

His sobs echoed the empty rooms bouncing off the the walls mixing with the police sirens in the distance.

“He loved and he loved and he lost her, and it hurts like hell”-Fleurie

Tag list for Russian Roulette:

@zhuzhubii​ 

[yeetusdabussy]

hello! 🤗could I get headcannons (or a small scenario, whichever works best for you :3) for modern (non-massacre, like in college or working adults or something😅 ) au obito, roommates turned lovers sfw and nsfw (but mostly nsfw 😏)? thank you and have a nice day 💖P.S. would you consider adding shisui to your character list? 🥺

୨˚̣̣̣͙୧༚￮✧Yes love! I can do that for you my beautfiul Potato Anon And i'll add Shisui to the list honey keep ya unpdated ✧￮༚୨˚̣̣̣͙୧

╭══• ೋஜ•✧๑🌸๑✧•ஜೋ •══╮

Minors Nono!

╰══• ೋஜ•✧๑🌸๑✧•ஜೋ •══╯

── ･ ｡☆*Warning☆ﾟ.──

Smut,nsfw, cussing, and more.

Office workers to lovers.

You've been working at a office job for a good two years now, it's not the best job in the world but it helps you pay bills and you're still able to travel for business purposes. You're an assistant worker for Mr.Madara Uchiha. He was a calm boss, and not the worst. I mean sure he was strict but not mean and rude, he treated everyone equally. Well not really, he had a grandson named Obito. He was also a sweet bubbly young man, he was always on time for work, always obeying his grandfather's orders, and treated everyone respectfully and nicely. And he was quite the handsome lad in your opinion. He was always willing to do thing for you and even buy you gifts, which he never did for anybody else surprisingly. You thought that maybe he did that because you were his grandfather's assistant. Or because you guys literally live next door to each other, but one night you were working overtime due to stock pricing and trading going up. You were tired and sore from sitting in the same spot for hours.

"Jeez, my back is killing me, I should take a small break in the break room for a nap at least or a coffee." You got up from your chair and begin to walk down the dark walkway of many cubed office areas. You rubbed the back of your neck and closed your eyes as you look down at the floor for a bit. As you made your way to the end of the office are and into the hallway, you made your way into the break room where you spot Obito hunched over the counter. You were a bit surprised to see him there, was he working late too? "Obito? What are you doing here?"

Obito jumped and didn't dare to look at you, he grazed actually and begins to fumble his words. "Y/n? I-is that you? Sorry I was um resting my head, I fell asleep in here and I realized its night time already." He sounded distressed, which worried you so you begin to wall closer to him. "Obito, Are you okay? You're worrying me." It didn't take long for him to start shaking his head "i'm okay! Don't worry about it!" He yelled at you, but he soon felt bad about it, especially when he heard your soft sad "okay.." He apologized quickly to you. "I'm sorry y/n please don't be sad..its just..I'm..I'm stuck in an embarrassing situation right now." He still didn't look at you, you were now confused, what did he mean? Did something happen? You begin to wonder what could he possibly mean until you fully paid attention to his body's position, he was hunched over, arm against the upper cabinet. One of his hands were hidden away in front of his body, but there were low where his crotch should be. You slowly connected the dots and your eyes widen, your breath was caught in your throat.

"Was he masturbating?" You thought to yourself. You felt something pulse between your legs, you were now biting your lip, you've liked Obito for a while but didn't have the guts to tell him that, but oddly enough you didn't even know if he even liked you back considering the way he's always happy to see you, or get worried when you were sick and had to stay home.

"Obito, I know what you are doing. Turn around, let me help you." You could hear obtio sharp inhale to your words. "..dammit..fine y/n." He sighed deeply and turns around, his cheeks were a bright red. You could see his hard cock out in the open, for you, So thick and big is all you could repeat in your head. While you were there stuck in your own little thoughts, Obito was somehow now standing in front of you with one arm wrapped around your waist and his hand reaches up and grabs your jaw a bit roughly, forcing your lips to slightly part. He took advantage of this opportunity and kisses you deeply with a lustful passion, his tongue enters your mouth, his pink muscle tangled with yours. You were a mess already, especially the way his large hands run up your shirt, caressing your smooth S/C (skin color). You let out soft sighing moans into his mouth, hearing you sound like made him snap. He had you on the couch pinned, you were glade the break room had a couch for those who got tired because it would've been a bit uncomfortable to be doing this on the floor. Your hands were above your head, and his lips just inches from yours.

"O-Obito." Is all you could get out before he gripped the back of your knee, he would lift one leg up, he soon settles himself between your legs and begin to lick up your neck slowly, his warm breathe tickling your skin, his weight against your smaller/taller frame. He would kiss your earlobe before biting it playfully and pressing his hard cock against your sweet spot. Causing you to bite your lip and whine, Obito begins to lift your shirt up with one hand, he was slow and gentle. His hand caressing across your s/s (stomach size) with such admiration and love it made your body shiver under his touch.

"Fuck y/n, you're always making me feel like this every time I see you. It feels like you've put me under a love spell. I can't help but want to devour you, and now I have the chance to do so." His voice was so husky and deep in your ear, you wanted to tighten your thighs but he was between them and one of your legs were propped up on his broad shoulder's. He didn't waste time pulling off your shirt and begin to kiss down your neck with small butterfly kisses, he would reach your collarbone and playfully nip the skin teasingly. He locked eyes with you while doing it, causing your breath to be caught in your throat, he would soon kiss the middle of your chest/breasts and begin to suck and nibble on the soft skin. Leaving a mark there, it was large and quite dark, you knew that wasn't gonna leave for weeks. But you didn't care at the moment anyways.

"M'obito more~." You moaned out softly, which earned a growl from him, making a shiver run down your spine. He didn't waste time taking off your pants and kissing down your stomach, he would kiss your belly button and soon kiss lower to your most sensitive areas. He would kiss and nip your inner thigh, teasingly avoiding your precious area. It made your whine in protest, this made him chuckle between your thighs before he flattens his tongue against your pussy/cock. Swirling his tongue around your sensitive bits, purposely drooling all over it. Letting it mix with your arousal/precum and letting it run down to your sweet hole. His large fingers begin to run around the rim of your hole, as he begins to suck on your clit/tip as his tongue slowly glides across the sensitive nerves. His eyes never left your face, seeing you moaning and gripping his hair was such a hot scene to witness and he was the only person who got to see it. He slowly pushed a finger inside you, you gasped at the feeling and mewled. He groans against your sensitive bits, causing you to feel the vibrations. You arched your back and gripped his hair tighter, he soon slides a second finger in and twists his hand. His fingers curl up and presses against your g-sppt/prostate, you covered your mouth with your free hand and concentrate on the pleasure you were receiving. He soon begins to suck on your clit/cock as his hand twists once more, he uncurls his finger and begins to thrust it into you as a faster pace. You could hear the lewd sounds coming from your hole.

"Obito! M'please, I want your cock. I want it." How could he deny your sweet little cries? He sat up and soon for off the couch. He made your body sit up on the couch as he grabs the back of your knees and puts your legs on his shoulders. He leans forward and places his hand beside your had, gripping the rim of the couch as his other hand aligns his cock to your entrance. He slowly begins to slip inside you, slowly giving you that pleasurable stretch you've been begging for. Your arms wrap around his neck and you felt him start to runt inside you, not even letting you fully adjust to his eyes. But you were so wet, it slipped in so easily, the way your warmth engulfed his hard cock, the way you cried out for him and saying his name like a prayer. He wasn't talkative because he was too lost into pleasing you, but he groans and grunts into your neck. His heavy balls slapping against the skin, the way his thighs slapped against yours, and especially the way your nails dug into this poor baby's back, causing him to whine and grip the couch and the back of your knee tighter.

You felt a knot building up in your stomach, your sweaty S/C pressed against his now crinkled uniform. Just when you were about to cum, he stopped. You whine in protest, "Obito, why did you stop? Please keep going." You begged. Obito leans up and looks down at you, he was so cute, the way his cheeks were red, his lip slightly quivered and his eyebrows furrowed. He would flip you over, causing you to yelp. He forces you head down into the couch pillows before pulling half of your body off the couch where he let's your legs down so your feet touched the ground. He spreads your legs just a bit before slamming back into you, his cock was much deeper than before, he pulled on your H/C (hair color) H/T (hair textured) hair. His cock hitting every sensitive spot you didn't even know you had, having you see stars as you moaned and babbled random words. You couldn't even form a simple sentence, especially when he leans in and kisses up your back and gets to your ear, he nips the bridge of your ear and whispers. "Cum on my/the cock/coach, cum, I can't hold it no more." He whined and groaned softly.

Your eyes rolled back, because he leaned in closer causing him to go even deeper. You soon felt your mind go blank for you begin to squirt/cum on his cock/coach. You begin to pant and feel your legs go weak, but obito held you up. Lifting you off the floor and into the air. You gasped and grips his arms as he continues to runt in you, you could tell he was close the way he was panting hard against your neck. Soon enough he moans and begins to fill up your cute little hole, it took all his strength not to fall or drop you. He soon turns around and plops down onto the couch panting and hugging your waist.

"F-Fuck, I'm sorry y/n please don't hate me, I really like you, I really do. I just, i-" you would tell him to "shh" and begin to adjust yourself in his lap, he was still inside you, as you wrap your arms around his neck and nuzzle him. "Obito, baby its fine, don't worry. I like you too, you goof ball." You weakly smiled and giggled. Now you were tired and worried about the papers you still needed to finish. "Dammit those papers.." You said as you sighed. "Ah, don't worry y/n! I'll do them, you just sleep okay?"

You looked up at him, wanting to say something but he kissed you instead. "I already known what you're gonna say y/n." He chuckled, you rolled your eyes and smiled. "Oh whatever."

[asian-hero]

Can i ask for an emergency bnha request? Maybe main 3 with an S/O who’s hiding their grief (lost my grandma and 2 tios in a month) and she doesn’t want to seem weak or burden so she just shuts down during the day and breaks down at night in the dorm, until something reminds her of them so she starts tearing up during class and the boys confront her after?

A/N: I am sorry for your loss. If you need anyone to talk to, know that I’ll be here for you. I can’t imagine how you feel, but I do know that sometimes, letting things out is the best way to deal with your feelings. So please, don’t lock away your feelings, I promise that things will get better

Midoriya Izuku

If anyone could read you like an open book, it’d be Izuku. Not because you’re an extremely open person who wears their heart on their sleeve, but simply because he cares about you so much that he’s taken the time to learn about you, and now knows you like the back of his hand

So, when you walk into class one morning, he notices immediately that something is off. Not only do you not smile as you walk in, but you also don’t make any move to go and talk to your friends, instead opting to just sit at your desk. Your behavior worries him, at the very least, but he doesn’t ask you what’s wrong, as by the time he’s made up his mind, Aizawa is already taken his spot behind the lecture podium, telling them all to pay attention

Later, when he asks you if you’re alright, you simply shrug him off, telling him that you’re fine, you just don’t feel like talking to anyone at the moment

That immediately puts him into panic mode. There’s probably a million thoughts rushing through his mind, wondering whether he was being too annoying, if there was something that he’d done to make you upset, if there was anything important that he missed. It honestly throws him into a loop, and for the rest of the day, he tries to figure out why you you seem so different

Izuku is always a ball of anxiety, always overthinking, overanalyzing, and your relationship wasn’t exempt from this. He always wondered whether or not he was a good boyfriend, if he was enough for you. So, when you started slowly pulling away, he couldn’t help but think the worst. He almost automatically assumed that you were tired of him, or, even worse, he had somehow messed up along the way, and made you upset without even knowing

While he was going on several different tangents, you were holed up in your room, doing your best to conceal your sobs. In just one month, the world had taken three family members away from you. Every day you’d do your best to maintain a calm facade, not allowing anyone to see you at your worst moment

Since you didn’t want to bother anyone with your issues, you kept them close to your heart. In the daytime you’d keep to yourself, focusing solely on your work, though you didn’t really get much done. In the night, you would cry yourself to sleep, doing your best to keep your sobs as silent as possible. However, once you were finally asleep, you’d dream of those who you lost, and then wake up in a cold sweat, tears streaming down your face, and soon enough, the cycle would start over. It was safe to say that you didn’t get much sleep anymore

Your lack of sleep didn’t go unnoticed by Izuku. Once he saw the seemingly permanent dark circles under your eyes, it threw him into an even greater panic. Why weren’t you sleeping? Was it because of the upcoming midterms? Stress of being a hero in training? What was it? He desperately wanted to reach out to you and comfort you, but his fear of being rejected stopped him

Eventually, though, when you started tearing up in class, looking as if you were about to lose it, Izuku finally steeled his nerves and gently asked what was wrong

At first, you tried to deny that there was anything wrong, it was just simply the stress of school catching up to you. However, after a few more minutes of his gentle pressing, you finally caved, no longer able to hold back your tears. As soon as they left your eyes, Izuku panicked. He tried to reassure you that everything was alright, that he was sorry for pushing too much

In all honesty, he probably cried with you as well, since he’s a sympathetic crier

So, the two of you were just sitting in the middle of class, your classmates long gone, just sobbing as you held each other close, almost as though the other would disappear if you let go. After a few more minutes of tearful sobs, you finally told him what was going on, how you lost some of your family in such a short amount of time

Though he’s never really had anyone important to him die, and he may not be able to understand what you’re going through, he lets you know that he’ll be there for you if you need anything. He wants you to know that he cares for you, and that he’ll do anything to make you feel better

When you tell him that you didn’t want to be a burden, Izuku immediately rejects that idea. To him, you’re one of the most important people in his life, and he doesn’t know what he’d do without you, so it hurts him a little that you feel as if your issues would be a burden to him. He reassures you that you’ll never be a burden to him, and that he wants to be there for you, even if it’s your worst day

All he wants is for you to feel better, and he’ll be there every step of the way

Bakugou Katsuki

It’s widely known that Katsuki isn’t the best when it comes to comfort, and he’s even worse when it comes to people showing weakness

However, just because he has poor comfort skills, it doesn’t mean that he isn’t observant. So, when he sees you start to pull away, you better believe that this boy is both confused as hell and angry

It starts off with the little things, with you being rather silent in class, not speaking unless spoken to. Then, he starts to notice how you don’t bother hanging out with your friends anymore, and even the time that you spend with him is either cut short, or you don’t really say anything at all. He would also notice that you’ve lost the life behind your eyes, and, while you try and pretend that everything’s fine, he notices how devoid of emotion you look, how absolutely empty you are

When he first tries to ask you about it, albeit in a rather forceful manner, you shrug him off, saying that you’ve just had an off day, that you’ll be good tomorrow

Slowly, tomorrow turns into the next day, and the day after that, and soon enough it’s been three weeks and Katsuki’s had enough

While he’s angrily brewing in the corner, you’re crying in your dorm room, wanting nothing more than to just go home, where you can be with your family

It was a rather dark month for your family. Three family members had died in the same month, and you truly couldn’t believe it. It was almost like someone had ripped a part of your heart out, and you couldn’t get it back. Since it was such a short span of time, all of your grief had built up, and every single night you found yourself buried in your blankets, face first in your pillow, sobbing your heart out. You tried to be as quiet as possible, as you didn’t want people to pity you, or for them to think that you’re weak. You were in a heroes course after all, and death was a part of the job, so you felt that you couldn’t allow yourself to be vulnerable, not when you’d have to face death on a regular basis

So, you steeled your heart, and every day you would pretend that nothing was going on. Whenever someone would ask if you were alright, you’d just shrug them off, not sure if your words would fail you. You made sure that you did good enough in school to not cause suspicion, and you mostly stayed away from everyone else. Not because you didn’t care for them, but because you didn’t want them to catch on to your ruse

However, when the night came, and everyone was fast asleep in their rooms, you found yourself sitting in the dark, sobbing as you replayed your final memories with your departed relatives. You kept thinking back to the last time you hung out with them, thinking about what you said, what you didn’t say, and how you desperately wished that you could tell them you loved them once more. You wondered if they knew how much you loved them, if they knew how much you missed them

One day, on a particularly bad one, you found yourself sitting quietly in class, minding your own business when you stared out the window of class 1-A. Watching as some kids were still heading into the building, you couldn’t help but replay the memory of when you told your family that you had made it into U.A., the proud look on their faces when you screamed that you’d be in the best class of one of the most prestigious hero courses. When you reminded yourself of the happy looks on your relatives faces, you couldn’t stop the tears from falling from your eyes, racing down your cheeks.

As you furiously swiped your eyes, you took in a deep breath, doing your best to calm yourself. However, you found yourself unable to pay attention for the rest of class. You just prayed that nothing too important was being taught

Just as you were about to leave, getting ready to hole yourself back up in your dorm, you felt a hang tug on your wrist. Turning around, you found yourself face to face with Katsuki, who seemed to be pissed off. When you asked him what was wrong, he abruptly asked why you looked so pathetic

A little taken aback, you found yourself forcing out a laugh, telling him that you weren’t quite sure what he meant. When he didn’t respond, you looked towards your feet, apologizing for being annoying

That also seemed to be the wrong answer, as he forced you to look back at him, his eyes piercing into yours, almost as if he could see your soul

“What the hell are you on about?” He asked, his normally gruff voice turning slightly softer, as if not to scare you away, “I never said you’re annoying, I just wanna know why you’re so upset,”

Seeing the concerned look on his face caused you to burst into tears. You could tell that you freaked him out, as he tugged you into a hug, burying your face into his chest. He lightly scolded you, saying that you were making it look like he yelled at you. When you finally spilled what was going on, how you lost some family members this month, and how you didn’t want to seem weak because of your grief, Katsuki wasn’t sure of what to say

Instead of trying to say anything, he simply grunted in acknowledgement, letting you know that he was there for you. He told you that mourning the loss of a loved one didn’t make you weak, it made you human. The only thing that would make you weak in his eyes would be if you didn’t give your all in anything that you do

While he may not be the best at comforting a grieving person, if it’s you, he supposes that he doesn’t mind sitting it out with you

Todoroki Shouto

Though Shouto may not be the best when it comes to understanding social cues, it’s glaringly obvious that something has happened to you. While it may have taken him a few days to realize what was off about you, he could tell that something was up

The warm smile he’d receive in the morning, right before class, had disappeared, and instead of replaced by a thinly veiled look of sadness, though you did your best to hide it. The 3 AM chats that the two of you would have about life seemingly vanished into thin air. In fact, you seemed to be the one disappearing, almost as if you were pulling away from his life

When Shouto had first asked you if anything was wrong, you merely shook your head, giving a forced smile while telling him that you were just feeling a bit tired, but he knew that was a lie. He didn’t want to press the topic, though, as he just assumed that you’d work out whatever was going on in your life, and then things would go back to normal. At least, that’s what he told himself to feel better about the situation

In truth, a small, perhaps insecure, part of him was worried that you were distancing yourself because you were going to break up with him. However, when he noticed that you were actually avoiding all of your friends as well, he couldn’t help but feel a shameful breath of relief leave his body. Though he badly wants to ask you if you’re truly okay, he doesn’t want to invade your personal life, and he doesn’t want to force you to talk about your feelings, since he knows that can be a difficult subject

You, on the other hand, were having a hard time keeping a cool exterior. In the past month, not only have you had to say goodbye to one family member, but three. You didn’t tell anyone what had happened, nor did you truly plan on it, either. The idea of being a bother, or a burden, to anyone if you told them about your grief prevented you from speaking, so you decided to keep quiet and instead put all of your focus into your work, hoping that maybe, just maybe, you could work away your feelings

So, in the daytime you’d pretend that nothing happened, shrugging off any concerns that your friends and boyfriend would have for you, and insist that nothing had happened, while in the night you’d let out quiet sobs into your pillow, wishing nothing more than to be in the arms of your dearly departed

Eventually, your facade had cracked, just a bit, but it was enough for your boyfriend to notice

While in class one morning, waiting for the lecture to start, you were vaguely listening to the chatter of the 1-A students. Your attention faded in and out occasionally, not really paying attention, but it wasn’t as though you were called out about it. However, when one of your classmates had talked about a call they received from a relative, and how much they missed them and loved them, you found yourself having an even more difficult time controlling your emotions. As tears had begun to fill your eyes, you hastily wiped them away, though it didn’t really do much, as for the rest of the lecture, you fought the urge to just start sobbing. You just prayed that no one saw what was going on, and that you could continue your day as normal

Unluckily for you, Shouto saw the entire thing

So, after school, while you were packing away your stationary, you noticed a certain red and white boy standing in front of your desk. Bracing yourself, you forced a smile, looking at him curiously. When you asked him what he wanted, he stated that he wanted to walk back with you. Just as you were about to deny the offer, like you had been for weeks, he grabbed your hand, squeezing it gently, almost as if he were begging you to say yes

That’s how you found yourself walking side by side with Shouto, who seemed to be observing your every move. From the small glances that you allowed yourself, it looked as though he was deep in thought, trying to find the right words to say. Before you could question his actions, he spoke:

“I saw you trying to hold back tears this morning,” When he saw your posture stiffen up, he squeezed your hand once more, “And I’ve noticed that you’ve been distant these past few weeks. I don’t want to force you to say anything, but I do want you to know that I’m here for you”

For a few seconds, the two of you stand in complete silence. You can’t think of anything to say to put back up the wall you’ve had, though, if you did have something to say, you weren’t quite sure if you could even speak at the moment. As you finally allowed yourself to look at him, you couldn’t stop the tears from streaming down your cheeks as you saw the look of such concern and care for you

Putting your face in your hands, you felt a sob rip itself out of your throat, along with Shouto’s strong arms being wrapped around your form, as if shielding you from any other negative things in the world. You could hear him whispering small words of comfort, telling you how much he loves you, and how he’s here for you

While Shouto isn’t necessarily comfortable, nor well equipped, to deal with a person in emotional distress, he does try his best, and that’s good enough for you

Once your sobs turned into tiny hiccups, he pulled the two of you to a secluded area on campus, sitting the both of you down. While it took a while, you eventually told him what had happened, and how quickly life seemed to take away your relatives. He never interrupts your story, only listening quietly as you get your emotions off of your chest

After you’ve finished, Shouto envelops you into a hug once more, telling you how sorry he is for your loss. He tells you that you should never feel like a burden to him, that you’re entitled to your emotions, and processing grief doesn’t make you any less important to him. Though there’s probably a million words of comfort running through his head, he can’t seem to find one that feels right

So, he instead suggests that the two of you head back to the dorms, and for the rest of the night, the two of you are cooped up in your room, neither of you really saying anything. He holds you tightly against his chest, letting you cry out as much as you need to, never complaining about how there’s a permanent wet spot on his shirt. 

He simply allows you to feel grief, to feel sad and upset and angry at the world, and, while it doesn’t feel great right now, you do feel much better, now that you have someone to hold you in these quiet nights

[glenncoco4]

You Can Count On Me

A/N: Chapter 9

••••

The shaggy blonde is so focused on his girlfriend that he doesn’t realize she misses the turn towards his apartment, instead she keeps going for a few minutes until she hits the Santa Monica exit. A few minutes later they’re back in the same spot at the overlook where they were just a week ago. 

“What are we doing here?”

She turns towards him, that unrecognizable look still swirling in her mismatched eyes. “Well, I’ve been thinking.”

His heart picks up speed when he suddenly realizes what the look on her face earlier could very  well be...“Yeahhh.”

“And what I want more than anything else in this world is to feel safe every day of my life.”

“You do realize you’re a federal agent, right? One of the most dangerous jobs ever.”

“That’s not...I’m not explaining myself right.”

“Well, you can always resort to my form of communication.” He wiggles his eyebrows playfully, semi-kidding but not really. 

Shaking her head, unable to keep the smile off her face, she leans over the console, bringing her lips to his in a chaste but passionate kiss. “Better?”

“Oh yes, very much so.”

A sudden burst of nervousness washes over her and she looks down at her left hand, imagining what it would be like to have a ring there and not just any ring, his ring. “What I was trying to say is that I want to feel safe every day of my life in all aspects. I feel so safe with you as my partner. And I know safe is such a mundane word but to me safe means you. You make me feel like I’m the most precious thing in the world. Like everyday you wake up next to me is better than the last. You have my back no matter what just like I have yours. And as cliche as it sounds, when we’re curled up together in bed or just on the couch and your arms are around me...in my mind its just you and I existing together. You challenge me in a way that no one ever has before and it’s one of the reasons I love you so much and...”

“Kens?”

There’s a hint of desperate hope in his voice, which is strangely calming to her. She finally lets herself look up and when her eyes meet his cerulean blues everything in her is telling her that this is the right choice. “What it all comes down to is this...there’s nothing more I want in this world than to grow old and grey with you. So if your offer still-“

He doesn’t give her time to finish her sentence before his hand finds the back of her neck and he’s pulling her towards him. His lips find hers, but she suddenly pulls back making him whimper. He curiously watches her, wondering the cause of her actions when she gracefully maneuvers through the two seats into the back, tugging him along with her. The fact that they’re parked in a not so private place is the last thing on either of their minds especially once she straddles his lap and his hands find the hem of her tee, ridding her of the white piece of cloth. Good thing NCIS sprung for the extra tinted windows. 

••••

The past week has been filled with a happiness that neither of them can describe. Who knew that officially being engaged would bring this type of euphoria into their lives. Ever since Kensi took him back to that outlook and finally said yes to his proposal everything and nothing has changed at the same time. They’ve been more touchy ever since and definitely happier. A huge challenge that they’ve come across the past week however is having to go into character around the guys at work. 

There have been a couple of instances where they thought the charade was up but it turned out that their coworkers were oblivious as to what was going on around them...which is quite concerning if you think about it. 

The week of bliss had been shattered when a marine’s young daughter goes missing. Kensi was suddenly lost in the past and the similarities of the story playing before them was to her own. 

As she and Marty step onto her front lawn after walking home from school, they both immediately feel something in the air shift. Sharing a look, they quicken their pace, taking the front porch steps 2 at a time. 

Marty swiftly pulls the screen door open, ushering his best friend inside before the sound of soft sobs fill the room around them. They both all but throw their things onto the ground before finding Roberta in the living room, her arms wrapped around Julia comforting her as best as she can. 

“Wh-what’s going on?” The shaggy blonde 17 year old speaks up as his best friend finds his hand, already preparing herself for the worst. 

Roberta looks up, tears in her eyes. “I’m so sorry, sweetheart, it’s your dad.” 

“No!” The brunette shakes her head vigorously. “No!”

“What happened?”

“His helicopter was shot down.”

He’s already prepared for her to collapse in his arms, hell he’s surprised he’s still standing himself. But instead of tears, the young brunette just screams in denial once again before running out the front door. 

Without thought Deeks chases after her, running out the door as he calls out to her. He doesn’t know why he thought she’d stop. He sees the direction she’s going and immediately knows where she’s running off to. 

A few minutes later his flip flop bound feet hit the wooden dock as the echo of her whimpers break his heart. Slipping off his shoes, he takes a seat right next to her, his arm winding around her shoulders as he pulls her into his body. 

Her fingers find the cotton of shirt, grabbing on for dear life. It’s not until he feels her tears seep through the fabric that he finally lets himself break down as well. Donald Blye was more of a father to him than his own and there’s nothing in this world that’s going make the pain go away. 

His lips find the top of her head, knowing that he’s going to do everything in his power to make sure she makes it out of this, but for now he will grieve with her, because that’s what you do when you love someone. 

As the arrests are made and Amanda is reunited with her father, Deeks’ attention shifts to his fiancée. He’s seen how lost she was today, who could blame her considering what she went through with her own father. The case brought up memories for himself, but nothing compared to what he knows is going on inside his partner’s head. 

Walking up next to her, it takes everything in him not to pull her in his arms. Her focus doesn’t move away from the marine and his daughter as they embrace, and share apologies. The tears forming in her eyes is unmistakable and considering their coworkers are focused on other things he lets his facade slip a little. “Thinking about your dad?”

“Yeah.” She nods, unable to look at him otherwise her tears might fall. 

They’re sitting at the table eating lunch, actually eating might be a bit of an overstatement. It’s been 6 weeks since they got the news about Don. 6 weeks of tears and regrets along with denial. It was only 3 days after the news until Marty and Roberta found themselves living in the Blye residence once again. 

Both mother and son knew that moving in to take care of their respective best friends was the only option. So here they are, sitting in silence, trying as best as they can not to breakdown. 

A sudden knock at the door pulls the four out of their haze. Marty wipes his mouth and quickly stands. “I’ll get it.”

Walking to the front door, he can see the top of an official marine’s hat peaking through the door window. Dread fills the young man’s body, already sensing that this is the official house call, the one that confirms their worst fears. 

He reaches for the door knob, his head falling in defeat thinking about the hole Kensi is going to go further down. God he wishes he could take this pain away...he’d do anything. She’s been so beside herself especially considering the last time that she ever talked to her dad they were fighting. 

Begrudgingly pulling the door open, he looks up and meets the eyes of one of Don’s unit members. His brow furrows in confusion until he hears the squeaking of the porch swing. He almost falls to his knees when he sees the familiar warm brown eyes.

Marty stands there for a minute, paralyzed in shock. 

“Hi, Marty.” Donald hesitantly stands with the support of his crutches. 

All he think about is Kensi and Julia. He doesn’t respond to his surrogate father, and before he can even process what he’s doing, the 17 year old turns and walks back into the house, cerulean blues wide in shock. 

Kensi’s brow furrows when she hears her best friend walk back into the kitchen and says nothing. She looks across the table at his frozen features and begins to worry. “Marty, what’s wrong?”

This gets the attention of the two older women, three pair of eyes now all on him. He wants to say something but his words fail him. All he can do is turn towards the hall and watch the marine  walk down the hallway, that’s when he suddenly notices the reason for the crutches.

Kensi’s and the mom’s eyes follow his, it takes a few seconds but slowly Donald steps into view. The resounding gasps fill the room, none of them able to process what’s happening before them.

“Hi...it took me awhile but I finally made it.”

No one says a word, but each set of eyes look the man up and down, stopping their gaze when they realize the reason for his crutches.

“Oh my god, Don, what happened to your leg?” Roberta’s lips work faster than what her brain can process, the words spilling out of her like its the most reasonable question to ask.

Marty’s eyes go wide in shock, before her sending a pointed glare.“Mom!” 

“What?”

Before anything else can be said the marine’s eyes follow the length of his body, eventually coming to a stop where his left leg once was. “Oh my god!”

Marty can’t help but crack a smile, his attention flying to his best friend trying to gage her reaction and get some sort of semblance as too what she may be feeling. The small smile and huff of laughter that emanates from her gives him his answer. 

Shaking herself out of her daze, the 14 year old jumps out of her chair, running over to her father and carefully wrapping him a death gripping hug. 

“Hey, he came home.”

Her story may have a happy ending but it was that month and a half that still weigh on her mind. “I know, but its just those 6 weeks and...”

“I know, baby. I know.” And he does. Just like before they found out Don was alive, he’d give anything to take this pain away from his girl.

Once given the okay to go, the pair make their way towards the SRX and just as he expected, she hops in the passenger side leaving him to drive. That’s when he realizes this is one of those days that only has one solution. Quickly pulling out his phone, he shoots off a quick text knowing exactly what she needs.

••••

Every once and awhile the shaggy blonde catches himself taking a look at her. She must be more lost in thought than he assumed because she doesn’t notice him miss the exit to her apartment and continue on towards Malibu until they’re pulling into the parking lot. “How about some tacos at the beach?”

“Sure, I guess.” She shrugs. 

As the SUV pulls to a stop, Marty’s eyes find the lone figure about 100 feet in front of them. 

Noticing he hasn’t made a move to get out yet, Kensi’s brow furrows and follows his line of sight. As soon as her eyes land on what he’s staring at her heart fills with even more love for him than she ever thought was possible. She feels the tears pool in her eyes, her hand finds the his neck, pulling her surprised fiancé’s lips towards hers in a kiss emotional passionate kiss. “Thank you.”

“Anything for you.”

A smile rises to her lips as she places another kiss to his lips before hopping out of the SUV, gaining attention from the man on the bench. The older brunette stands up as quickly as he can and starts heading towards the junior agent. 

When he received a discreet text from his surrogate son, the former marine dropped everything he was doing and headed to the beach. It wasn’t an emergency, which is always a relief but considering there wasn’t much to the text that alone told him she was dealing with something.

As he slowly walks towards her, he outstretches his arms, leaving Kensi to all put collapse into his arms. “Rough day?”

“Yeah.”

The detective watches on as the pair embrace, it breaks his heart knowing that she’s still dealing with the turmoil of thinking she lost her father for years now. He’s tried to help her get through it, her parents have tried, but one thing Kensi Blye is good at, it’s not forgiving herself. 

After a few minutes the pair pulls back, giving Marty the chance to get in his own hug with his surrogate father. “How you doing, son?”

“Better now that she’s better.”

The older man notices a change in the younger man’s gaze towards his daughter. And then when she sends Marty a teary-eyed smile, wrapping her arms around him in thanks, it suddenly hits him. They’re together. 

[havenoffandoms]

Hello and congrats on 800 followers!!! Could I ask for an Eskel x female cat Witcher!reader with prompts 3 or 5? Thanks 😊

Hi anon! Thanks so much and thanks for this really fun combination of prompt. Here’s my little silly take on cat!witcher!reader x Eskel. Hope you like it. 

Send your prompt requests here.

Cat!Witcher!reader x Eskel: “it’s really not that complicated” (prompt 3) and “we could get arrested for this” (prompt 5)

“Would you hurry up, wolf?” you urge your travel companion as he struggles to pick a simple lock, “it’s really not that complicated, for the love of the gods.”

“You try and pick a lock in a tight space with little to no natural light,” you hear the witcher known as Eskel snide back. A guttural groan pushes past his lips as he tugs on the lock in his frustration. “Fucking thing!”

“Oh, get out of my damn way,” you snap at him as you squeeze yourself into said tight space, elbowing Eskel in the ribs as you wriggle up to where the lock is resisting the wolf witcher, “here, watch an expert at work.”

“Why am I not surprised that you Cat witchers know how to pick locks?” Eskel punctuates his words with a pointed eyeroll. 

“At least Guxart taught us some street smarts. What do you bring to the table, your theoretical knowledge of monsters? Your working knowledge of poetry? How’s that gonna help, you gonna bore the guards to death by reciting a couple of verses?” 

“Fuck you.”

“Make me,” you hiss in response, but your mood quickly brightens when you hear the familiar ‘click’ sound as the lock yields under your nimble fingers. You pull on it harshly and manage to open the trap door, your only escape out of these dungeons. “Hah! Where does that take us?”

“Sewers, judging by the stench,” Eskel remarks, his nose scrunching up in distaste. You can’t help but agree with your companion on this one. “Beggars can’t be choosers, I guess.”

“Let’s go, then.”

With the agility worthy of your namesake, you jump down yet another hole tight and land on your feet and hands. You keep this position long enough to assess your surroundings, your yellow-green eyes picking up every movement without needing to use a Cat potion. Unlike Eskel, who is probably downing one as you wait for him to follow you into the sewers. Once you are satisfied that there is no immediate danger, you rise to your full height and silently slip along the humid walls. You hear rats squeaking in the distance and scattering as the sound of Eskel landing next to you spook them. 

“Any idea which direction we should be taking, street-smarts?” 

“Well, the exit was north-west of our cell, so I’m gonna take a wild guess and say we should be heading that way,” you point in the direction you were referring to, “you got your swords?”

“Duh,” is all Eskel offered in response, “do you think so little of me?”

“Do you want an honest answer to that question? C’mon, we’ve wasted enough time waiting for you to drink that stupid Cat potion.”

You ignore Eskel’s grumbled response and take off without another word. You and Eskel have known each other for years. You first met on the path after he saved you from a particularly aggressive female wyvern. The beast was in heat and very territorial, and she did not appreciate anyone interrupting her mating rituals. There had been no contract on her head, you just happened to have the worst of luck. After Eskel saved you, he could hardly believe that he was not only standing face to face with a witcher from the School of the Cat, notoriously responsible for the creation of a famously vicious breed of emotionally-volatile assassins, but face to face with a female witcher no less. Your school often trained women, but very few of those were put through the trials and even fewer survived. You managed to beat the odds. You’re exceptionally good at what you do, which is why you and Eskel got along so well. 

After months of travelling together, and after a boozy night following a successful contract, you and Eskel became lovers. At first, it was purely physical, but as the months bled into years you realised that it was nice to have someone to go back to after an exceedingy shitty year on the Path. You started to miss Eskel after prolonged periods of not seeing each other and that’s when you admitted to yourself that it had stopped being purely physical a long time ago. You couldn’t let Eskel know, though. It would only get to his head. That’s why you settled for the tough love approach instead. It worked fine. Eskel had yet to run away.

Your train of thought is interrupted when you hear the familiar hiss of drowners in the darkness. You and Eskel simultaneously unsheathe your swords and brace yourself for an attack. One drowner sneaks up on Eskel from behind, but you notice it first out of the corner of your eyes and blast Igni in its face. In the meantime, Eskel hacks off the arm of another beast before running his silver sword through its abdomen, killing it with one powerful thrust. In the distance, you hear the echoes of more drowners heading your way. 

“Shit. We need to fucking hurry.” 

You run blindly through the labyrinth of underground tunnels. The truth is that neither of you knows where the exit is, or if there even is an exit. There has to be, you reason, the sewers always lead somewhere. Traditionally to a river, at least. There had to be an exit, or else the underground tunnels would be flooded and you would be swimming in shitwater by now. The fact that you aren’t is a fucking sign right? Right?

“There? You feel that?” Eskel suddenly speaks and instantly every hair on your body bristles in anticipation. 

“Feel what?”

“A draught.” Yes. You do feel it now that Eskel mentioned it. “Follow me. Turn to the left.”

You follow Eskel through the sewers, and to the relief of you both, you’re running away from the nest of drowners rather than towards it. Under any other circumstance neither of you would’ve shied from a group of drowners, but you were trying to escape and not draw more attention to yourself. Some other witcher, one that was preferably not wanted in Temeria, could take care of that one.

“We’re getting closer,” you say when your nose picks up the smell of fish and seawater, “we’ve almost made it.”

You and Eskel reach an opening several frantic minutes later, at once out of breath but also relieved that you managed to find your way out of those dungeons. It’s dark outside, which will help you and Eskel escape without raising too much attention, or so you hope. You both manage to exit the sewers soundlessly. Even Eskel with his impressive size manages to stealth his way past guards and civilians alike. Not as flawlessly as yourself, mind you, but you weren’t one to brag. 

Well, maybe a little bit, but there would be time for boasting later. 

“Hey look, there’s some horses there,” you tell him, your voice too quiet for any mortal ear to pick up but you knew Eskel could hear you loud and clear. 

“No. I need to get back to Scorpion.”

“Oh good gods - really? Eskel, we don’t have time for this. Scorpion is stabled near the city gates… at the other side of fucking town.”

“I’m not leaving Scorpion.”

With that, Eskel takes off in the opposite direction, leaving you to ponder whether you should follow him or go your own way and hope that your paths will cross again eventually. Fuck it, who are you kidding, you wouldn’t let that idiot risk his life for a stupid horse on his own. Well, if he gets caught you might just let him ride it out for a while… you know, just to teach him a lesson. 

You follow Eskel’s trail, making sure to remain unseen. Your hand reaches up and touches your witcher medallion, shaped in the form of a cat’s head, something you’ve done since the trials to ground you, to calm your nerves. After what felt like the longest fucking chase ever, you see Eskel pressed against the wall of the stables that you recognise as the place you two had left your horses in two days ago when you first arrived. Eskel peeks around the corner, checking for guards, and when he’s satisfied that he hasn’t been spotted he climbs up the side of the building at a surprising speed. You curse under your breath, but follow him up onto the roof of the building. 

“You know we could get arrested for this?” you tell him once you reach the top. Eskel raises an eyebrow, a mocking grin tugging at the scarless corner of his lips. Anticipating his smartass remark, you hiss: “I’ve just sneaked out of a dungeon, I don’t fancy another trip through those sewers.”

“Don’t worry, this won’t take you long.”

“Me? Whatever do you mean, me?” Your eyes land on the chimney and its opening, too narrow for Eskel to fit through, but not too narrow to fit… you. Oh, the bastard was going to pay for this. When you turn to glare at your companion, all you can see is the protruding lower lip and the pleading eyes. 

“No…”

“Please? Scorpion means the world to me.”

“What about me?” you snap, forcing yourself to look away or risk falling for Eskel’s pretty face all over again, “don’t I mean the world to you?”

“Of course,” he says, his tone growing softer, “and I’m sure if the situations were reversed, Scorpion would do the same for you.”

“Urgh, fine!” you eventually relent despite the absurdity of Eskel’s last comment, “but you owe me for this.”

To this day you don’t know how you and Eskel didn’t get caught sneaking a massive war stallion out of the stables, nor how you two managed to escape the guards at the city gates. It certainly made for an interesting story that winter when you and Eskel travelled back to Kaer Morhen.  

Lambert relentlessly teases you for ‘growing too soft’ and ‘being wrapped around Eskel’s little finger’, but when you see the open adoration written plainly on Eskel’s face as soon as he and you retreat back to his room, well, you simply don’t find it in yourself to truly mind all that much.