#n:600

[behindfairytales]

Ewan Mitchell in House of the Dragon (s2) as Aemond Targaryen

[chaosemmie]

whadda hell

[ennard-is-near]

>Be me

> Just moved to neighborhood in Hurricane, Utah

>At a welcome party thrown for me

>Party is fun

>party suddenly stops and neighbors say they have to tell me something

>what?

>they give me a heads up about Michael.

>I ask what the deal is

>he’s not dangerous, you’ll know him when you see him. He’s just Michael.

>confused.png

>Few months later

>see a literal decaying body walking down the street.

>it’s just Michael.

[etclouie]

hey sugar, for your celebration event (congrats btw) could you write the prompt below with our lovely spencer please? if not completely okay

“Just calm down, things will be fine.”

“My wife is being held at gunpoint and you think now is a suitable time to tell me to calm down.”

˚୨୧⋆｡ prompt/s; “Just calm down, things will be fine.” “My wife is being held at gunpoint and you think now is a suitable time to tell me to calm down.” — from 50 dialogue prompts

˚୨୧⋆｡ warnings; husband!spencer, reader is kidnapped/at gunpoint but it’s not described, just spencer battling internally with his worries, angst kinda, if i missed anything lmk

˚୨୧⋆｡ a/n; send reqs pretty please🫶

— celebrate 600 with me?

the sound of muffled footsteps trailed throughout the dark alley, just beyond the warehouse doors. 

inside, Spencer was pacing frantically, his mind running in every direction— but always back to you. 

ever since you had started dating Spencer, and then marrying him, the mere thought of you always seemed to calm him down. 

but now, now was the opposite. 

his hands were shaking and his breath shallow. every thought about you turning into a worry if they’d get to you in time or not. 

“Spence, stop pacing”

Dereks voice pulled him from his thoughts, even if just for a minute. his voice firm despite his efforts to calm down Spencer. 

“just calm down, things’ll be fine”

he continued, his hands grasping Spencer’s shoulders to try and still him but Spencer jerked away. his eyes wide with panic as he started pacing again. 

“my wife is being held at gunpoint and you think now is a suitable time to tell me to calm down?!”

Spencer’s voice cracked, the frustration mixing with the raw fear that churned in his chest.

every breath he took made it harder for him to stop thinking of you, of holding you against his chest and never letting go again. 

“i get it, but right now losing your head won’t help her. we need you focussed”

Derek continued trying to soothe him, and despite his restraints another sigh fell from Spencer’s lips. 

Spencer clenched his fists as he stared at the floor, trying to force the fear down. yet his thoughts still ran straight back to you. 

the fear of seeing you hurt overtook every feeling he had in that moment, the thought being his worst nightmare. 

“she’s strong”

Derek added quietly, watching as Spencer tilted his head to meet Dereks eyes before he nodded slowly. 

“she can handle herself”

Spencer’s breath hitched at that. he knew it was true, hell he was the one that taught you how to defend yourself. 

but the idea of you handling yourself in a dangerous situation like this was something Spencer admired about you, but it only made his helplessness gnaw harder at his insides in this moment. 

he wasn’t there. he wasn’t able to protect you. 

“i don’t know if i can do this”

Spencer blurted out, his voice quiet but Derek still heard him. speaking to himself mainly instead of to Derek.

“we’ll get her back”

Derek said, his voice unwavering as he held Spencer’s gaze. the eye contact make him anxious, pulling away and scratching at his neck as the worry continued to bubble in his belly. 

"you’re gonna get her back, but you have to stay with us. we need you to think clearly."

a moment of silence passed between them, Spencer still trying to steady his breathing while his eyes flickered to the door of the warehouse. 

every second felt like an eternity. 

Spencer swallowed hard, trying to push back the questions spinning around his head. he couldn’t imagine a world without you in it, he couldn’t imagine his life without you in it. 

you were his anchor, his reason for getting up every day— his being to see you smile each and every day. but now, now he was powerless to protect you. 

“let’s get her back”

he finally spoke, voice hoarse but determined. 

Derek gave him a curt nod, both of them moving toward the door and ready to act. Spencer on his left, the weight of the world on his shoulder but with one goal in his head— but he wasn’t alone. 

not this time, not while they still had a chance.

⋆˚࿔ reblogs are highly appreciated 𝜗𝜚˚⋆

[underoospeterparker]

congrats on 600!! I love ur work smm <3

🐬 how about jj Maybank x “that’s okay, no need to be embarrassed” with like a hurt comfort type thing…

i hope this is what you were looking for!! <3

join the celebration

jj maybank x gn!reader (but they get a period)

As soon as you pulled the covers off of your already aching body, you felt the dreaded wetness between your legs. "Shit," you groaned, your voice still a whisper so as to not wake JJ from his sleep. He was barely able to rest now, especially just after his dad had left for good.

You inched off the mattress and started towards the bathroom, stepping over Sarah and John B on the floor.

"(Y/N)?" John B's voice was cautious. "What's up?" He asked groggily. You knew he would rather be sleeping, but he'd taken great care to make sure everyone was okay: especially because he blamed himself for the situation you were in. It was, of course, his dad who had gotten him in to the whole treasure finding gig, but all of you had offered to join in and help him. After all, Pogues for life. And the treasure wasn't a downside.

You gave him a small smile, and John B squinted his eyes to make it out in the dark. "Sorry, I didn't mean to wake you. Jus' going to the bathroom." He gave you a thumbs up and rolled over into Sarah's shoulder, pressing a kiss there before closing his eyes and drifting off. You admired his ability to just fall asleep whenever he wanted.

Closing the bathroom door as gently as possible, you sat down on the toilet and tried desperately to clean up the mess. You found an extra pair of underwear and some pajamas under the sink, which you gladly climbed into after a quick rinse in the shower.

Praying that you didn't stain the sheets, you pushed the door open only to find JJ wiping at his eyes, clearly confused. You almost screamed, scared out of your mind, before JJ pressed a hand to your mouth, his wide eyes mirroring yours. "Sorry," you mouthed when he pulled his hand away.

He nodded, his lips tilting up at the edges before grabbing your arm to pull you over to the bed. He leaned over to whisper in your ear, "I changed the sheets, so you can get back in bed." Then he hopped back under the blankets like nothing had happened.

You must have looked extremely bewildered as you crawled into bed because JJ chuckled under his breath. "W-" You stuttered, "how did you know?"

JJ pulled you into his chest, arms circling around your back at he tugged you in closer so you could rest your head against him. You listened to his heartbeat as he spoke, voice rumbling through his chest. "You never wake up that early to shower, and I jus' looked over, sweetheart."

You buried your head into his t-shirt further, if that was even possible. "I'm sorry," you whispered, slightly ashamed that your boyfriend had to clean up your mess.

"Hey." He studied your face carefully, nothing except concern in his eyes. "It's okay. There's no need to be embarrassed, angel. You can't help it." Your eyes teared up and you let out a muffled sob, hormones driving you crazy.

"Oh, honey," he cooed. His voice was so gentle, sticky with his endearments and love for you. "You're okay. Are you hurting?"

Nodding, you leaned away to press a hand against your stomach, but JJ moved over to take his place. His warm palm provided some relief and you sighed softly, returning to the comfortable space beneath his neck. "I'm sorry you're feeling like this," he murmured, "wish I could take it from you."

JJ pressed a kiss to your forehead, and across the room, Pope sat up, rubbed at his eyes and looked over to you and JJ, limbs entwined and cuddling on the bed. He gagged viciously and Kiara burst out laughing, clearly awake now.

You and JJ groaned simultaneously. "They're never gonna stop giving us shit about this, right?" You asked.

"Never."

[winterrrnight]

requested by bae @rafescurtainbangz ! <3

rafe cameron x fem!reader — celebrating your birthday with your boyfriend rafe 🌷🎀💒🩷🍧💌

waking up to breakfast in bed. surprising you with gifts throughout the day. huge flower bouquets awaiting you at the dining table. massive shopping trip. paying for your nails and hair appointments. clicking polaroids. letters of ‘i love you, birthday girl’ waiting for you throughout your house. opening only some of the most expensive champagne. partying with friends at my druthers. insta stories of you blowing out the candles. carrying you up to his bed bridal style at night. making soft love to you. lighting up scented candles. helping you to a warm bubble bath. whispering ‘pretty birthday girl’ over and over again in your ear. <3

I hope you like this kel! cause I think I’m kinda obsessed with this idea omg 🥹

edith’s 600 followers celebration (now closed!)

[yurislotusgarden]

ʚїɞ Not just a little crush ʚїɞ

ʚїɞ Port mafia!Dazai Osamu x Gn!Reader

ʚїɞ Keep in mind English is not my first language, so you may find mistakes!

ʚїɞ word count: 1k

ʚїɞ Tw’s: literally nothing, just pure fluff of him being down bad

ʚїɞ This is literally just 1k words of Pmzai being down bad, whipped, even lovesick, for his crush🤷‍♀️

How did he end up like this?

The youngest executive in Port Mafia’s history, The demon Prodigy, one of the most feared people in Yokohama if not the whole of Japan, Dazai Osamu has fallen in love.

He tried to tell himself that it wasn't that. That the nice feeling he got whenever he was around you was just because of him standing near, or spending time with a friend, a close one, but denial can go on only for so long.

The brunette at first thought that his crush, as Chuuya had called it when he had caught onto Dazai's more than normally weird behavior, was one-sided. After all, there was no way that someone like you could love him, that just wasn't a possibility in Dazai's mind, yet you decided to go against his calculations once again, you seemed to like doing that and causing him to freak out.

It wasn't too long before he realized that, just maybe, you did at least like him in a romantic way, some acts just couldn't be brushed off as a friend gesture.

One thing he just couldn't brush off, as well as it being the reason he realized his crush may not be one-sided, was him remembering one of the times you cooked him food, even though you were aware how picky he could get with that matter.

///////////////////////////

A figure with brown-haired locks could be seen walking on the deserted sidewalk. Moonlight shone on him as he arrived at his destination, your house.

You always greeted him so sweetly, especially when compared to all the people in his life. Welcomed him like he was a classmate, a friend, a normal person that you both knew he wasn’t. He wasn't treated like a superior, like someone who would kill if the smallest mistake was made around him, and Dazai knew that he liked it from the very start.

Dazai had thought before how would it be if you somehow were in the PM, but to his surprise, he realized he hated, even despised that idea. Something about the concept of someone like you, a person who in his eyes could be an angel for all he cares, being in a dark place full of violence and death like the Port Mafia, was just absolutely not right.

Dazai had arrived at your door, not having to wait long after knocking for the door to be opened by you.

“Dazai?”

You. Oh, the lovely little thing that you were in his eyes. Innocent compared to him, a civilian who somehow met and befriended a feared mafioso without the slightest care in the world.

He had no idea how he managed to get where he was, but he had no regrets.

“Yes, me! Now let me in, it's damn cold!”

///////////////////////////

You disliked crab.

In fact, you disliked most seafood, he was perfectly aware of it, and yet, you did this just for him. 

A crab that could as well look like it was made by a restaurant chef laid in front of him on the table. It looked well-seasoned, the crab’s shell was purely gotten rid of, and the smell wasn’t overwhelming like a lot of food tends to be like to him… you really thought it out carefully. 

“What is this?” It was kind of a stupid question, but he wanted to know your reasons.

“What do you mean? I thought you liked crab?”

“I do-”

“Then shush and eat, you stick.”

What did you just call him? Did he hear it right?

“...’Stick’?” You turned to look at him as he said that, stopping the cleanup you were doing just moments before.

“Yes, have you seen yourself? When was the last time that you ate a proper meal, dear?”

Oh. Goddammit. Don’t get him started on the pet names. He was aware that you used it on people you considered close to you, as long as they agreed, and he’s been lowkey embarrassed ever since you asked for his permission to use them on him, or more like embarrassed on how fast he agreed to that. Dazai didn’t know why he liked it so much, maybe it was because of how no one ever referred to him as such, maybe it was the way you sounded when you addressed him with them, or maybe it was entirely just the fault of your voice but he simply didn’t care anymore.

“I think we both know that you’d rather not know the answer.” His answer caused you to let out a soft sigh, but what he said was kind of true. In truth, he would answer that it was the last time he ate at your place, which on one side wasn’t that long ago, but otherwise, he barely eats anything. You and Chuuya were the only ones getting any kind of nutrition into his body, which he supposed he should be thankful for… not like he’s ever going to voice it out.

“Right. Now eat, I don't need you collapsing on my floor.”

“But I don't wanna!” If any of his subordinates saw him like this, whining because of food, they would be dead on the spot, but he's alone with you, and he’s been over being embarrassed about his behavior with you a long time ago.

You sighed, and he knew that you were about to use the biggest thing you have on the brunet against him, just to get him to eat… Not like that wasn't Dazai’s plan from the start, he's gotta get his fair share of you, doesn't he?

“You eat the most you can and you get cuddles.”

“With you playing with my hair?”

You smiled softly and said, “I'll even add head kisses to the mix.” knowing damn well that it’s gonna win him over.

You knew what you were doing, you had to, and he didn't mind as long as you kept your side of the deal. He's gonna finish that damn plate if it means affection from his favorite person will be solely on him for as long as he wants it.

Hearts, comments, and reblogs are greatly appreciated

[patrophthia]

Heya, I don't know it's already done or not but can you please write about the egoistic yandere Tom Marvolo Riddle with a hugeeee obsession and love🤔 on introverted half blood slytherin y/n who doesn't give a f*ck him and his looks like other girls of Hogwarts!🫠

thank you for sending this in, i was really hesitant on writing this bc i’ve never wrote anything like this before so i hope you like it!

know you better | tom riddle

pairing: tom riddle x fem!reader

warnings: yandere!tom, very obsessive and delusional way of thinking, death, even more delusions

To fall in love with you was the easiest thing Tom has ever done. All you had to do was merely be in the same vicinity as him and he’d found himself more than just head over heels over you. 

For you to fall in love with him on the other hand, that surely was one of the hardest things he had to do in life. You don’t look at him —not because, unlike the others, you didn’t dare to but because you weren’t interested in him. You don’t offer him a smile when he greets you good morning. You don’t throw yourself at him when he turns a blind eye when he catches you sneaking around the castle at night. You don’t care for him. 

And quite honestly, it is driving him insane. What is it that everybody has that he doesn’t? Why does everyone else get to see you smile when you won’t even turn in his direction? Why won’t you just admit you want him as much as he wants you? 

Though you don’t show it, Tom can read between the lines. He thinks —no, he knows that you’re acting indifferent to play hard to get. He knows you want him, you just won’t admit it.

He tries to be a gentleman about his intentions at first, sliding up to you whilst you hover your cauldron during potions. He calls out your last name cautiously, careful to not startle you; he wouldn’t know what to do with himself if he accidentally hurts you. You turn to him, a small frown appearing on your lips. “Riddle?” 

He skips the formalities, not bothering to beat around the bush. “Would you like to go out this weekend?” 

You fix him a look, and then, “no.” 

You didn’t hear him right. That’s what he tells himself. Or maybe he’s confused, because why wouldn’t someone want to go out with him? Tom clarifies himself, “I meant on a date.” 

You turn back to your cauldron, ending the conversation as is. “No.” 

He was certain that you’re playing hard to get now. That was until one of his goons —Malfoy, that was his name, started noticing that Tom’s eyes tended to wander whenever you were in the same room as him; until Malfoy tells Tom exactly why you’d said no. 

“Macmillan, that’s his name. Walburga says they’ve been going out for a few months now.” You have a boyfriend? No, no, that can’t be right. There’s no way you had a boyfriend when you were so clearly playing hard to get with Tom this entire time. 

Was it because your ‘boyfriend’ was holding you back from your true love? Or were you using this ‘boyfriend’ as bait? Had you known that it was time for Tom to create his next Horcrux and had needed a new sacrifice? How thoughtful of you to take care of these little things for him. 

Luckily Tom’s smart, he’s known to be smart, and he’s smart enough to read you like an open book even though you won’t spare a second of your time on him. He admires it, how hard you’re playing this role of not caring for him when you’re clearly as indicated with him as he, you. 

He’ll take up on your offer, he thinks as he sets out towards his chamber. The Basilisk is a dear friend of his, it’s even dearer when it does these things for him. In Parsel tongue, Tom says his order. “Kill Macmillan. And be careful not to hurt her.” 

The Basilisks set out first, setting off after the aforementioned man; Tom a few steps behind. It isn’t hard for him to follow his dear friend, it leaves a wet trail in its wake for him to follow and it’s even easier for him to know when his friend has done its job from the scream you let out. 

Tom’s clever enough to hide behind the corridors as he waits for his friend to return back to his home. His heart aches to hold you as you scream time and time again, asking for help and he reminds himself to reward you for your amazing acting. 

With the way you’re so desperately clinging onto Macmillan’s body, you almost convince him that you genuinely cared for Macmillan, like Macmillan really was someone you were in love with. But he knows you, he knows you better than you know you. And he knows you love him. 

So he schools his expression to one of worry, if you were really playing the part then he should be a good sport and play it with you. “What’s wrong?” He asks you, not sparing a glance at Macmillan’s frigid body. 

“This —this thing, it came and it—” you stutter out, hiccuping out each word as you swiped at your eyes. Tom places a hand on your own, removing your grip on Macmillan’s body and ignores it when you flinch at his touch. “—it, I don’t know what it did but next thing I knew he was— he was gone.” 

Oh poor you, he sympathises. Such a good girl for him to play your part so well. He pries your other hand away from Macmillan’s body and wraps his arm around you. “It’s okay,” he offers, pressing your face against his chest. “It’s okay, I’m here now. I’ll keep you safe.” 

You sniffle, pulling away from him slightly. And when he realises that you could see the red glow in his eyes, neither of you mention it; for you were too afraid of the man holding you, and he too in love for something so trivial to take part of your conversation.

— from bee: this is so so new to me,, i hope you liked it!

[it-happened-one-fic]

A Cinderella Fairytale - Deuce

Author Notes: @miriamladyvoid So this is the selection from my 600 followers event that corresponds to the book you chose (A book that has been lovingly re-covered in now sun-faded fabric). i wrote this while listening to "Lavender Blue" from Disney's Live action Cinderella (2015) OST. I kept this one as a female reader as well since that was what was in your request. I hope you enjoy!

600 followers event!

Type: female reader/ fluff/ romance/ charming fairytale in a book that has been lovingly re-covered in now sun-faded fabric/ Isekai

Word count: 2416

I exhaled, scrubbing the floor that magically seemed to gain more filth each time I blinked.

Never had I so regretted touching a book as I regretted touching the one that had transported me into this fairytale world that was a little bit too much like Cinderella for my liking. Especially considering I was the one in the role of Cinderella.

I should've known to be wary of the enchanted books Crowley had told me to take to the library for safe storage. If I had, then maybe I would have found myself getting transported to a magical world that wasn’t my own or Twisted Wonderland.

Of course, I hadn’t exactly been planning on opening one of the books. One of them had just slid off the top of the stack and fallen to the ground, opening as it did so.

I’d frowned at the book covered in sun-faded fabric that obviously hadn’t been original to it as I sat down on the other books before kneeling and slowly picking the book upright as Deuce had come into the room behind with yet another stack of books. 

I’d barely even gotten a chance to glance up at the young man as a flash of light sparked out from the book, causing the young man to shout in surprise before everything had faded into darkness and I’d woke up here.

I hadn’t woken up with no clue as to where I was. The enchantment on the book had been kind enough to give me all of the information regarding my character’s backstory.

And it was almost exactly that of Cinderella. Meaning that I was essentially trapped in a retelling of one of the world’s most famous fairytales known to man.

The only real comfort was that, at the very least, Deuce had no doubt seen me get sucked into the book.

He would go and get help; I knew he would, and as soon as they could figure out how, I trusted that my friends would get me out of this book and back into Twisted Wonderland.

But up until then, my best options seemed to be filling my role and playing the part of Cinderella. Which included servitude to my apparent stepfamily.

“You still haven’t finished cleaning the floor, Ashes? You won’t be able to go to the ball at this right!” My supposed stepsister trilled at me from the upper staircase, and I twisted to look up at her.

I had to hand it to her and my stepmother, who stood behind her with a faux-disappointed expression; they weren’t going with the classic nicknames of ‘Cinderella’ or ‘Cinders.’ Instead, they referred to me as ‘Ashes.’

I watched as my stepmother shook her head, her lips pulled together in a pout, “Really, dear, I would have thought you would know this by now. If you try to clean the floor while covered in filth, then you’re only going to spread filth around.”

I glanced down at my clothes, which were not, in fact, covered in filth but were considerably stained. I nodded nonetheless, my fingers curling into the filthy rag I was using to clean, “Yes, ‘Mother.’”

I heard the tapping of heels, and then my chin was lifted by a fan so that I was looking up into my stepmother’s face, which was just a little bit too red to be colored by blush alone, “I told you to call me ‘Duchess,’ Ashes.”

I pulled my mouth up into a fake smile, “Yes, of course, Duchess.”

She let out a hum before twisting to look up at the clock and tutting lightly, “It is far too late for you to join us at the ball, Ashes. I’m afraid you’ll have to stay behind tonight.”

I twitched slightly at her words, indignant on my character's behalf. For tonight, she said. More like for the rest of your existence.

I wasn't particularly looking forward to meeting the prince charming of this story, but I was looking forward to my entrance at the ball. At the very least, I would get to see her shocked and dismayed face then. Though that was only a little comfort, considering it wasn’t actually going to be ‘Ashes’ who finally bested this woman.

The fan was yanked from under my chin, and she made sure to drag its sharp corner along my skin before finishing pulling it away as she smiled at me, “Be sure to finish your chores, ‘Dear.’”

She stepped away, turning in a swirl of rich but gaudy fabrics as I watched her stalk out of the kitchen and to her smirking daughter’s side, “And remember, tomorrow the prince will be visiting to declare his intentions to my daughter.”

My daughter. Not your sister.

But that was fine. In no way did I want to be accused of being related to the caution orange monstrosity of tulle that was the wicked step-sister of this tale.

I bowed my head, idly wondering what my fairy godmother would look and be like as I murmured my response, “Yes, Duchess.”

The two women left, trailing shrill laughter behind them as they swept out of the room, and I sat back.

As I recalled, the fairy godmother usually showed up right after Cinderella’s heart was broken, which did make me wonder if she would even show up.

According to the plot, she should, but I was hardly heartbroken.

But that was fine. I’d found a dress in the attic that was a perfect match for my size that was no doubt left by the previous lady of this house.

Ashes’s mother.

Changing didn’t take long, and I glanced at the clock as I walked through the house. The only question now was how, exactly, I was going to get to the palace without a pumpkin carriage to take me there.

I stepped out of the house, glancing around and feeling my eyebrows raise as I spotted a carriage that was parked right outside the house. A little bit too handy to be a coincidence, as the man in front waved me over.

“You must be a lady of this house. We’ll have to hurry to get you to the ball on time, my dear,” He smiled warmly, and I felt myself grin back at him before clambering into the carriage and sitting as it took off.

I frowned at the box next to me, though, immediately suspicious as I leaned out the window, “This box… Are you delivering it?”

The man shook his head, “No, ma’am, that would be for you. Some faerie stopped by and left it here, saying the lady who took this carriage to the palace would need it.”

I frowned at it, feeling my eyebrows lift before I carefully opened the box to reveal delicate glass slippers.

I felt myself laugh slightly; I supposed it wouldn’t really be a Cinderella fairytale without at least one gift from a fairy godmother after all.

And, just like a perfect fairytale, they fit like a dream and were impossibly comfortable despite their design.

I found myself shaking my head and smoothing back out the full, layered skirts of my dress, idly wondering about what this prince charming was going to be like.

Probably perfectly handsome, in a brilliant white suit, and totally at odds with the young men I’d gotten so used to being around at NRC. And there was nothing wrong with that. In fact, that would make him someone that I’d want for this story’s protagonist. 

Ashes deserved someone who would be good to her in ways that she had experienced since her childhood, when her father and mother were still alive.

It didn’t seem like I’d been in the carriage hardly anytime at all when it rolled to a stop and the coachman leaned around, a smile on his face that somehow reminded me of Cater, even though he looked nothing like the ginger-haired young man, “Here’s your stop, ma’am. And good luck on winning the prince’s heart.”

I felt myself smile at him as I stepped out of the carriage, noticing that its roundness really did make it appear like a pumpkin.

“It looks like I’m going to be fashionably late,” I was surprised to find that I felt oddly nervous as I looked up at the grandiose staircase that led up into the sparkling palace just ahead.

He leaned down, winking at me lightly, “All the better for making an entrance, I say. Now, farewell, my lady.”

And with that, he snapped his reins once, and the carriage pulled away as I started up the staircase, at first slowly and then trotting, as my skirt fanned out around me.

Sets of doors after sets of doors were opened for me as I hurried through the palace, idly checking clocks as I went. Even I knew that the magic would wear off at midnight, and if I wanted this story to move forward, I needed to meet the prince before then, at the ball.

And right now, even as I filled the role of the princess in this story and even looked the part for once, ending this story was still my best chance of returning home outside of relying wholly on my friends to get me out.

I found my pace slowing, though, as I approached a particularly ornate set of double doors in front of which two men stood. Both of them looked my way and nodded slightly before they opened the doors silently for me. Revealing the glittering spectacle of a ball that was spread out in front of me as I walked out on a dais from which two sets of stairs fanned out.

I could see the musicians getting ready, but they obviously hadn’t started playing yet, which meant I’d made it before the prince had made his choice of partner.

I swallowed thickly, letting one hand rest on the stair’s gently curving rail while the other reached to lift my skirts, just enough for me to slowly step down the stairs and the rest of the way into the brightly lit ballroom.

I exhaled softly, bracing myself to meet Prince Charming when I saw him, and somehow, instead of being surprised, I only smiled.

His eyes were wide as he took a few, almost hesitant steps towards me before he smiled in return from across the room.

Guests parted around him, their confusion evident as he walked towards me at my quick pace and heads turned, their eyes landing on me as he slowed and came to a gentle stop right in front of me, “I finally found you.” 

His voice was so soft, and I laughed slightly, shaking my head in slight disbelief until I found my voice, “Deuce… I didn’t even know you were here. Did you get sucked into this story at the same time I did?” 

He nodded, glancing down and making a slight face before he looked up at me once more, “Yeah…  I’ve been looking for you ever since so we could get out of here, but I’ve also been getting forced to act like a prince…..”

He trailed off, and I laughed slightly, tilting my head at him, “Well, you look like a perfect prince.”

He brightened at my words, though he also looked a little bashful before he nodded slightly, “And you look like a real princess, Y/n!”

He reached out, taking my hands in his, and I heard music start up almost immediately, causing my eyes to widen and glance over towards the musician right as one of the men from the top of the staircase spoke up, “His Highness has chosen his partner!”

I looked back towards Deuce, only to find him looking around just as startled as I was, “I don’t know how to dance though….”

I squeezed his hands lightly, pulling his gaze back to me with just that slight gesture, “Hey, we’ll do it together.”

I watched as he blinked at me slightly before nodding, a determined glint entering his gaze, “Right, together.”

And with that, we shifted, spiraling across the floor with unpracticed motions that somehow seemed oddly perfect. They fit the two of us. Two people who weren’t originally from this story but had still ended up swept up in the tale.

As the music trailed off, we came to a slow stop, with his arms wrapping around me as we both laughed slightly. Perhaps from the giddiness of having danced in front of an entire group of people, or maybe from the ridiculousness of us being in a fairytale such as this one.

And then, as I leaned against him, the lights seemed to brighten and turn the entire ballroom white.

I closed my eyes, pressing my face into Deuce’s shoulder as his grip on me tightened until, at last, I chanced opening my eyes only to find the glittering spectacle of the ballroom gone.

I sat back, startled, and my motions caused Deuce to jolt slightly, his own eyes opening as we looked up at the Heartslabyul students around where we knelt on the floor of the school’s library.

“Guys! How-”

“We just closed the book,” Ace was shaking his head at us, his arms crossed as he looked down at us, and I blinked as his stare shifted over to Deuce and he snorted.

“Next time, instead of diving in after the Prefect, use your head, and maybe they won’t be trapped in a book for so long.”

Deuce frowned, straightening from his seated position, “Hey! I had to do something!”

And just like that, the two of them started bickering. But I felt a light tap on my shoulder that had me turning as Cater smiled down at me, “So what was being a princess like?”

I blinked at his words before a smile slowly started to crawl across my face, half in amusement and half in genuine happiness that I’d gotten to experience such a magical little story.

I looked over at Deuce as I smiled, realizing I’d probably never get to see him dressed up like a prince or dance with him like that ever again. And those, at the very least, were two memories I’d treasure for the rest of my life.

And when I answered Cater, I was still smiling, half-wishing we could have made it to the end of the story. It had felt like we’d only just gotten to the good part after all. 

“Like a fairytale.”

[gaysindistress]

Prompt 4 ❤️‍🩹 for bucky. Extra points if it's a bit angsty then super fluffy

Congratulations you deserve more🩷

Thank you for the request and kind words!

Someone needs to take Spotify away from me. I keep finding the saddest songs when I’m writing.

warnings: angst. That’s it. There’s fluff but you have to get through the angst first.

600 celebration post

“I swear to you, that as long as I’m alive I won’t let a single soul ever harm you.”

That had been his promise to me the night we huddled together for warmth in that abandoned shed in the barren snow covered fields of Russia. He’d whispered it into my hair as the cold whipped in through the cracks and weakened my dying body. He’d wrapped me as tightly as he could against himself and shielded me from the onslaught of the wind as the both us were certain it would be our last night. He’d stayed awake that night, keeping his eyes trained on the door in case any enemy soldiers found us. He was in no condition to fight but he was better off than me who was covered in shrapnel wounds, knife cuts, and marks that were already bruising. Enough blood was caked on my suit that he refused to move me once we found that shed. He’d told me that he had already called for the quinjet to pick us up but rescue still wouldn’t be until the next morning.

He’d stayed awake the entire night, checking my vitals obsessively as tears filled his eyes and later fell from them when my pulse grew too slow. He’d contemplated sacrificing what few layers he had on to me but reminded himself that he needed to be alive if he wanted to keep his promise. That didn’t stop him from unzipping his outer layers so that I could be as close as humanly possible to his warmth.

“I swear to you, that as long as I’m alive I won’t let a single soul ever harm you.”

That was the last thing I remember he saying before I slipped into sleep and the first thing I heard when I blinked awake to bright lights. The quinjet had be faster but the early signs of daylight were showing. It felt like a movie; the pale morning colors painting the sky but doing nothing to mask the sheer feeling of emptiness that filled this place. Bucky wouldn’t let anyone touch me no matter how fatigued he was and stubbornly carried me in his arms to safety. I remember seeing droplets of pale red in the snow trail behind us but it didn’t register than they came from me. I had grown too cold, my limbs ice to the touch and too stiff to move. My only saving light was Bucky and the promise he whispered to me.

He turned into a passing comment, a running joke between us when I was finally ready to leave the infirmary.

“See, I didn’t let a single soul ever harm you.”

We both knew it killed him that he had, in fact, broken that promise before he even made it but I’d smile back and say “and for that I’m forever grateful.”

The night we kissed, he whispered the joke to me again. The night we had a massive fight because I loved him desperately and he wouldn’t let me in, he said it was because of that promise.

“I could hurt you! Can’t you see that? I’m a liability, Y/N, and I couldn’t live with myself if I was the one who hurt you. I can’t…I won’t risk it.”

The night we’d made love the first time, he whispered his promise to me in spite of the fear that he could be the one to hurt me.

The night he proposed, he’d modified it as he bared his heart to me and allowed me to love him in the same way he did me.

“I swear to you, that as long as I’m alive I won’t let a single soul ever harm you or our family.”

On our wedding day, he didn’t work them into our vows but whispered them against my lips as we became one and made love for the first time as a married couple.

“I swear to you, that as long as I’m alive I won’t let a single soul ever harm you.”

That was the promise he made to your daughter shortly after she was born. He had her bundled in a quilt Sam’s mom made as a birthing gift and was gently rocking her to sleep.

When I was pregnant with her, she would kick and move around when she heard his voice. She would still when his hand landed on my stomach and she’d place either her hand or foot where she could feel him. Now as he rocked her, she was content and I imagine she wasn’t going to risk sleep so she could keep looking at her dad. After he made his promise, I heard him sigh afterwards and he turned to me, absolutely beaming because “she smiled at me. oh my god Doll, she smiled at me.”

“Of course she did. You’re her favorite person in the world.”

[behindfairytales]

Ewan Mitchell in House of the Dragon (s1) as Aemond Targaryen

[that-was-anticlimactic]

see a world so beautiful and strange (spinning off somewhere)

“Why? Why are you suppressing?”

“Because I can't tic,” Alya whispered, fingernails digging into the skin on her arm. “I know Tourette’s isn’t exactly uncommon, but it’s part of my identity as Alya Césaire. It can’t be a part of Rena Rouge, too. Someone could figure out who I am and then…”

And then she’d have to give up the coolest thing that’s ever happened to her, give up living her dreams.

[or, alya is suppresses as rena rogue in order to protect her identity, but neither ladybug nor trixx will let her hurt herself like that]

🦊2,345 words | alya-centric, alya & ladybug friendship🦊

happy tourette's awareness month!!!

[luvfy0dor]

hiii can i request a drabble with nikolai, good night and rain kisses (mix) please 🕊️‼️

Nikolai + Rain and Goodnight Kisses ♡⁠˖

Warnings; cursing

Event/m.list

The droplets of water pattered down onto every surface facing the sky, including yours and your boyfriends heads. You could feel the rain dampening your hair and shoulders while Nikolai wore a smile, very pleased by the scene the two of you were painting. Two lovers in the rain, should they kiss? Nikolai thinks yes, it would be just too perfect of an opportunity to pass up. He turned to look at you, his smile faltering upon seeing your frown. "You don't seem to happy, dove." Nikolai comments, speedwalking along the darkened pavement with you. "Not really, I just got over a cold, I don't wanna get another one." You explain with a huff. Nikolai shrugs. "Oh come on, you won't get a cold, it's rather warm out." He teases. "As a matter of fact, I think it's nice, a perfect setting for a scene where two people have a disagreement and fix their issues with a kiss." He grins, trying to lead you to his idea. You roll your eyes. "That's only in movies, I'm trying to haul ass home right now, not stop for a kiss. I'm all cold and wet." You shiver, grabbing his hand to pull him along as you pick up your speed walking. "If you fall into a puddle because you're so determined to arrive home I'm going to laugh at you." He states. "It's dark out and the streetlights don't illuminate everything, sweetheart." "I'm not gonna fall, trust me." You say, your street coming into view. "Just one kiss?" He asks, squeezing your wet hand in his own. "Maybe when we get home." You say, starting to consider it just to appease him, but your cheeks heat up at the thought of the romantic gesture. You can hear his quiet "tee-hee" from his position behind you and you quickly turn the corner onto the boulevard in which you two reside. You can see your house and you let out a large sigh of relief and exhaustion. You finally walk through your driveway and to the front porch, but stop and place a hand on Nikolais chest. A chesire-cat like grin spreads acrossed his face and he lets you pull him in and kiss him, the rain drops still falling on top of you. His soaked thumbs delicately trace hearts on your face as your lips move together before parting for a breath of air, laced with the taste of the rain.

The only indication of the downpour was the visible droplets directly in front of the street lamps as the two of you walked inside.You took off your shoes and immediately went to grab towels for you both. "Stay there for a second, I'll be right back." You commanded your boyfriend, who was practically dripping. When you returned, you tossed him the cloth and he started to dry his hair, you patting down your body. The two of you silently walked to the bedroom, Nikolai already started to shed his wet clothing with his hair wrapped up and was completely topless by the time you stepped through the doorframe. While you were rummaging through the dresser drawers for pajamas, his voice broke the silence. "Could you grab me some pajamas too?" He asks, ruffling his hair to dry it. "Like pajamas pajamas or your pajamas?" Nikolai had pajama pants and old tee shirts he'd sleep in, but he often preferred to sleep in just underwear. "My pajamas." You tossed him a pair and started to strip out of your own wet clothing, hating the feeling of it sticking to your skin and making it more difficult to change. Once you finally got into clean, warm clothes, you flopped down in bed with your boyfriend who had finished changing first due to the simplicity of his sleepwear. His arm draped over your waist and he pulled you closer, kissing your forehead, nose, and finally your lips. "Y'look sleepy, all that running tire you out?" You let out an affirmative groan. "Alright then, I'll let you go to sleep, sweetheart." He kisses you one final time before allowing you to slip into a field of dreams and comfort.

A/n; I hope this was okay!! I've gotten more reqs for Nikolai than I thought I would and 3 separate requests for kissing Nikolais thighs lol 😭

[etclouie]

“Don’t kiss me.” “W-why not? I waited all day for you.”

from the 50 dialogue prompt list with james potter pretty please love❤️

˚୨୧⋆｡ prompt/s; “Don’t kiss me.” “W-why not? I waited all day for you.” — from 50 dialogue prompts

˚୨୧⋆｡ warnings; uh none really? just james being denied kisses

˚୨୧⋆｡ a/n; personally, i’d fold and kiss him 

— celebrate 600 with me?

James had made his way directly to your dorm after his last class, not a single care for the quidditch practice he was meant to be hosting and attending to. 

he sat on your bed pouting while you sat at your desk, trying to get some of your homework finished. 

glancing over your shoulder towards him and shaking your head at his pout, closing your book over and moving over to the side of your bed. 

“what’s wrong Jamie?”

he beams at the nickname, moving so his feet were planted on the floor as he guided you to stand between his legs. 

brushing your fingers through his hair and lightly scratching your nails across his scalp, eliciting a gasp from him while his eyes fluttered shut for a moment. 

once he opened his eyes again, they found their way back up to your face. holding eye contact with you as he pressed a kiss to your wrist while pulling your hand from his hair. 

“you’re all busy over there and not giving me any attention”

that was your boyfriend all right.

always in dire need of your attention, and he’d sulk if he wasn’t getting it. 

shaking your head with a laugh, eyes flicking between his and his lips and laughing again at his pout. 

“aren’t you meant to be at practice?”

you asked softly, listening to him groan in annoyance while resting his head against your stomach.

brushing your fingers through his hair again, tilting his head back to meet his eyes and seeing his pout deepened. 

“wanted to be with you”

he admitted quietly, almost as if the quieter he went the less the words would land in your head. 

he gave a sheepish grin, trying to pull you down and into a kiss— which you quickly pulled away from. 

“don’t kiss me”

you quickly told, taking a step away from him as he continued to try pulling you back. 

moving towards his bag that he’d haphazardly tossed by yours and lifting it for him. setting it down on the bed behind him and grabbing his spare jersey that he’d left the other night. 

“w-why not? I waited all day for you”

he asked quickly, the stutter in his voice muffled as he turned to face you. one of his knees on the edge of the bed as he watched you. 

shutting his bag over after shoving his jersey inside, eyes glancing around the room in case he had left any more of his quidditch things. 

quickly meeting his gaze again and mumbling softly. 

“because you’re going to practice, and then you can get a kiss when you come back”

he all but whined in protest at your words, moving around your bed to stand face to face. his hands lifting to cradle your face, his thumbs soothing across your cheeks. 

his eyes searching yours before he sighed, knowing you wouldn’t step down on your word. 

reluctantly he reached for his bag and was heading back out the door, glancing back at you and pointing in your direction as he spoke. 

“i’m coming straight back here for that kiss”

⋆˚࿔ reblogs are highly appreciated 𝜗𝜚˚⋆

[underoospeterparker]

🐬 DOLPHIN “don’t apologize.” “sorry.” “name.” With Siri

join the celebration

sirius black x fem!reader, 0.56k words

"I'm home," Sirius sang happily from the front door, dropping his bag on the floor in favour of wrapping you up in his arms.

When he picked you up, you went gladly, wrapping your legs around his waist. "Siri!" You greeted, an excited squeal escaping your mouth as you pressed yourself closer to him.

He grinned in response, then kissed the top of your scalp, pressing his chin on top your hair. You sighed in happiness when he tugged you closer to him. "I missed you, lovely girl," he crooned, his voice sticky with the endearment.

You gave him a smile when he set you down and he mirrored it on his lips. "I missed you more," you said, suddenly shy. "Wait here, I baked you something!"

Sirius chuckled, a sound that you wanted to bury yourself in. "You did?" He called after you, an obvious smile in his voice.

The smile disappeared when he heard a scream and the sound of glass smashing to the ground. He was quick to make his way in the kitchen, finding you with tears in your eyes, staring at the mess you'd made on the floor.

"Sweetheart," he whispered, drawing your attention to him. He noticed your feet were bare, and he stepped over quickly to pick you up, setting you on the counter as gently as possible.

A tear fell from your waterline onto your cheek and Sirius frowned, reaching up to thumb it away. "I'm sorry," you murmured, voice barely audible.

"You didn't do anything wrong, baby. Accidents happen, alright?" When another tear escaped, Sirius let out a sympathetic noise and wrapped you back in his arms. He pulled away after a second to survey your face. "Just stay here, I'll clear it up in no time."

You interrupted, "but it's my mess, Siri, I can clear it up."

"That's okay," he said softly, a finger under your chin to tilt your teary gaze to meet his, "you're all good. Sit here and keep me company?"

You nodded while he got the broom, sweeping away at the flecks of glass and at your ruined brownies that you had made just for him as soon as you'd come home from work. The thought made you want to cry again.

Sirius checked up on you every so often while he cleaned up. Your bottom lip trembled and he felt his heart clench painfully. He made quick work of it, though, then picked you up lightly to set you on the sofa.

He sat next to you, and you placed your head in his lap while he scratched at your scalp lightly. "I'm really sorry," you murmured, and the corner of his lips tilted down.

Sirius looked down at you. He pressed a kiss to the tip of your nose, then said, "please don't apologise."

"Sorry."

"(Y/N)." His voice was stern. You giggled wetly, the sound brightening up Sirius's face.

"Sirius." You imitated him badly, and Sirius almost cackled in laughter. "No, but really, I'm sorry you didn't get to try my brownies. I even made them with extra chocolate in case Moony came over."

His face softened. "That's sweet of you," he acknowledged. "But I'm sure Moony will be fine. He can get his own girl to bake for him, as far as I'm concerned." Sirius pecked kisses all over your face. "Because you're all mine."

[winterrrnight]

HI BAE!!!!!!! CONGRATS ON 600!!! 🙌🏼💓💓

go on without me - 16 + 21 with rafe🤭🤭🤭🤭

ahh thank you so much sweet abi!! I'm so sorry it took me so long, I just wasn't feeling satisfied with what I was writing :( I hope you like reading this! but please feel free to not read this if you aren't comfortable w the warnings given :)

protective

PAIRING: toxic!dark!rafe cameron x gn! musician!reader

SUMMARY: rafe doesn’t like another man touching you, not even as much as talking to you or looking at you.

WARNINGS: dark content! minimal swearing, established relationship, slight use of nicknames like babe, jealousy, over protective & possessive rafe, canon!rafe, toxic!rafe, threats to kill, allusions to anxiety and being scared, and kinda shitty writing (??) (please please let me know if something should be added!!!!)

EDITH SPEAKS: this is very, very new for me. this is my third attempt at this fic, the first two just didn’t turn out how I wanted, and the best approach just felt like dark!rafe. this is me basically exploring my writing and trying out new things and testing myself, so if it’s not as good as the rest of stuff you may have read, I’m really sorry, I’m a beginner 😭😭

please please heed the warnings, and it may not be as dark as some other stuff on here, it felt pretty dark while writing, and if at any moment you feel this isn’t for you please feel free to click off.

moreover, if I am being honest here, you might have read a lot of rafe fics based on this idea/prompt. so please don't think I copied someone off for this, this is completely my own creation.

and if you liked this, please please share your feedback with me, and reblog it to support my content <3

PROMPTS REQUESTED: “Actually, we’re leaving. We have something to get to.” “No we don’t – oh, okay fine I’ll call you guys later.” & “You can’t just lose your temper like this each time you get a little upset!”

600 followers celebration (now closed!) || navigation

Everyone around you cheers out loud, glasses of champagne raised in the air as huge grins form on everyone’s faces. Your new single – after a break of over three years came out today, and you have already received an overwhelming amount of support. You’re in your studio, celebrating with your team and your amazing boyfriend.

“Congratulations babe,” Rafe smiles as he hugs you tight, pressing a kiss to the top of your head. You grin at him, hugging him back even tighter as you mumble a ‘thank you’.

You all celebrate for some more time, drinking fancy champagne, eating food, and taking pictures to savor the moment.

You, Rafe, and Jim, your producer, are just talking at the side when you hear your name being called. You turn to see it’s Saylor, who is one of the interns at the record label you are signed with. Your single was the first project he worked on.

“Yeah?” You ask, smiling as you approach him.

“Congratulations on the release,” he smiles, and gives you a small hug. You gladly hug him back, a grin on your face.

“Thank you Saylor,” you smile. “You were absolutely great for your first project,” you say. “I was actually asking Jim if you’d like to continue working for the upcoming singles too,”

Saylor’s lips are pulled in a huge grin as his eyes light up. “You’re serious right now?”

You chuckle as you nod your head. “Yes, of course! I would love for you to be able to gain as much experience as you can,”

Saylor absolutely can’t contain his excitement as he pulls you in for another hug. You are caught off guard but gladly hug back, chuckling a little as you do so.

“Thank you so much,” he smiles. “Seriously, it means a lot to me,” he says, a certain spark in his eyes.

“Of course, a talent like yours shouldn’t go to waste,” you say.

His smile doesn’t falter as he speaks again. “Can I get a picture with you, if that’s not an issue?”

“Oh of course not!” You say, turning to look at Rafe. “Rafe?” You call out.

He breaks from the conversation he was having with Jim and walks up to you. “Yeah babe?” Saylor passes him his phone and asks him to take a picture of you two.

Saylor stands next to you as his arm wraps around your waist, maybe a little too tighter than it should be but you don’t really say anything. However, it doesn’t go unnoticed by Rafe, and he takes a sharp inhale when he sees Saylor’s side pressing more against you, as your arm rests around his shoulder.

Rafe tends to be… possessive, and you’ve always known that. Even when you both weren’t together, he wasn’t the biggest fan of how others would usually hit on you at parties, and would feel enraged when they wouldn’t let you go after you would politely ask to leave you alone.

But that possessiveness only increased when you both got together, when you officially became his girl. There’s nothing you can do about it, because that’s how Rafe is.

You can see the expression on Rafe’s face; the subtle ticking of his jaw, the acute twitching of his eye – you’ve known him long enough to identify his facial expressions just the second they appear. You are quick to remove your arm from Saylor’s shoulder, your arm now resting on your side, but Saylor doesn’t seem to catch on that; instead his grip on your waist tightens a bit, because he most probably wants you to wrap your arm around his shoulders again.

Nevertheless, Rafe takes the picture, and hands Saylor’s phone back. Saylor takes a few seconds before he lets go of you, which only happened because you gently removed yourself from his grip. You quickly appear at Rafe’s side and intertwine your hands, squeezing his hand tightly.

“Thank you for the picture,” Saylor smiles as he looks at the phone screen. All you say is ‘welcome’ with a small smile, and Rafe pulls you to a different part of the studio.

As the small party carries on, Saylor makes subtle moves – or moves which he thinks are subtle, but aren’t missed by Rafe at all. It’s Rafe’s last straw when Saylor gently grips your waist to move past you, saying a ‘sorry’ as he walks by. At that very moment, you decide it’s best if you talk to Saylor about it yourself, tell him that you know what he’s doing, and you clearly have a boyfriend. But before you can do that, Rafe’s arm wraps quickly around your waist, and his grip is tight.

Jim says something about going to a nice nearby restaurant for dinner, but Rafe cuts him off. “Actually, we’re leaving. We have something to get to.” He says firmly. You look at him with a slightly confused expression, thinking if you both do have any other appointments today or not, but your mind is blank.

“No we don’t –,” you say, but Rafe snaps his head at you, his jaw muscles tense, and your eyes slightly widen at the sight as you catch up in the fraction of a second. “Oh, okay fine I’ll call you guys later.”

Rafe leads you out of the studio, and you barely save your half full glass of champagne from falling off the table you’re trying to keep it at as he ushers you out. He opens the door of his truck for you and as you sit down, he slams it a little too harshly than usual. He walks around the truck and sits down next to you, his grip tight on the steering wheel as he starts to drive.

You take a deep breath as you lean back in the chair. This is not the first time this is happening, and you know it’s certainly not the last. You aren’t scared because you already know how this entire situation plays out. He will raise his voice at you, say stuff like how you’re his and only his, how he absolutely hates other guys looking at you a certain way because he just can’t bear the sight, and how he gives you the best treatment you can get.

You’re just silently listening to the soft music from the radio as you look out the window. You steal a glance at Rafe and see his jaw is still tightened, his grip tight on the wheel.

“Relax your jaw Rafe,” you say plainly, turning to look back out the window. You hear him take a sharp breath.

“I did not like how he was looking at you and holding you,” he utters.

You just roll your eyes at him, as if you knew that’s exactly what he was going to say. “It was just a picture Rafe, you don’t have to be so protective about that,” you say.

Rafe snaps his head towards you, but quickly turns back to look at the road. “Just a picture?” He echoes. “So you’re telling me you loved the way he was holding your waist hm?”

“Oh god when did I say that!” You retort. “And besides, did you not see? I literally removed my hand off his shoulders the instant you saw it, and moved away from him the moment you took the picture. There’s no need for you to get so worked up!”

You can see Rafe’s chest heaving as he takes rapid breaths, his jaw ticking as you can literally see a thunderstorm brewing up in him.

“You can’t just lose your temper like this each time you get a little upset!” You say exasperatedly. “You shouldn’t have been upset in the first place because there’s literally nothing to be upset about!”

Just the second those words leave your mouth, he bellows your name causing you to shut up right that moment. “Shut up!” He yells, smacking his palm against the steering wheel once. You feel the truck speed up, his foot pressing harder against the accelerator. You glance at the speedometer and see the needle pointing to larger numbers more and more with each passing second.

“Rafe-” you mumble out but you are cut off the very next instant.

“You just refuse to see it huh?” He hissed. “You refuse to see how I am the best for you. How I can, how I do treat you better than anyone else,” he goes on, and he uses his free hand to gesture around in the air.

“Get this in your head okay?” He speaks, his voice now eerily low as he gestures to his head, tapping his fingertips at his temple. “I never, ever want you as much as looking at someone else, you got that?”

You can feel the truck speeding up more. Your hands are clutching the sides of your seat, as your nails dig into the leather. Your lips are parted as you let out shaky breaths, your eyes wide and shiny with the layer of tears that have formed over them.

You thought you had seen the worst. Which was him arguing with you and telling you he’s the best for you. But right now, when his foot only seems to be pressing more and more against the gas pedal, your back pushed back against the seat due to the fast speed of the truck, you realize there’s a hidden side to Rafe you’ve never seen before.

“Rafe I-”

“Say it!” He yells, cutting you off swiftly. “Say it, that you won’t even look at anyone else!”

“Rafe please-” you mumble out, squeezing your eyes shut as hot tears flow down your face, leaving a sticky trail as they go down.

“Say it before I crash this truck in a fucking tree!”

His breathing is heavy, his eyes are wide, and you can’t recognise him anymore. His eyes are an icy blue instead of the usual dark blue you get lost in so easily, and that’s the moment you realize Rafe will never ever let you exercise any control over him. Ever.

“I-” you hiccup, “I won’t look at anyone else, okay?” You gasp, gulping down the lump in your throat as the tears keep on streaming down.

When you don’t feel Rafe slow down the truck, the seatbelt starting to dig into your neck harshly and your grip on the seat gets harder, your breathing gets more erratic as you try to gather more air to speak up again.

“Rafe, baby, please please slow down I…” you whisper, looking at him desperately.

You expect him to lash out, but he doesn’t, and the truck starts to slow down, coming at a normal pace. You move a shaky hand to your face, running your fingers across your skin to wipe off your tears, but your breath keeps on coming out in short gasps, and you feel yourself tremble a little; your heart loud in your chest.

The truck slows down more and more, and you see Rafe has parked it at the side of the road. The truck comes to a full stop, and you turn to look at Rafe through your still slightly blurry vision, your eyes now red, and panic being the only feeling clouding your mind.

Rafe rests his forehead against the steering wheel, taking in a deep breath. His grip on the wheel loosens a bit, the knuckles not so white anymore as their color flushes back. He lifts his head from the wheel and turns to look back at you, his eyes now not so icy, but still not the comforting warm blue you’ve always loved and adored.

A smile tugs on his lips, and it’s not the kind which always warms you up the moment you look at it, but it’s… sinister. It’s a smile you’ve never seen before. It’s the kind of smile that shows that he is enjoying seeing you this way. Seeing you so weak under his control.

He moves his hands to your face, brushing any loose strands off your slightly sticky face and gently running his fingers across your cheeks.

“Now baby,” he says softly, but the softness doesn’t comfort you – no. It scares you even more. “You made that a little too hard didn’t you, hm? Next time when I ask you to do something, just do it, okay? Don’t have time to wait, or- or to see how you react m’kay? Just… agree to what I say. It’s not as hard as you may think,”

He leans forward and presses a kiss to your forehead, but at that moment, all you want to do is to scrunch up into a ball and be far, far away from him and his cold, unknown touch.

Your breathing fastens up, but all you can do is stare at him with wide eyes, wondering where did that sweet, loving boyfriend of yours go and got replaced by this?

When he sees you aren’t arguing back, his menacing grin only widens, and he takes his hands off you, turning to start up the truck again and continue to drive – as if absolutely nothing happened.

A hand rests on your thigh, softly rubbing the skin through the material of your pants, but you’re too afraid to even slightly move under the touch. It’s cold, it sends shivers down your spine, and you don’t know who’s hand it is.

If only someone could stop and tell you that you had lost your ‘loving’ boyfriend forever.

↶ೃ✧˚. ❃ ↷ ˊˎ-

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