#that they knew him when he was just a boy and this all powerful facade he puts on for the supernatural world doesnt work on the family

[anikabooker]

I know. And her eyes took his face in, slightly wider than before, because his words were so soft, yet they made her head spin, like she'd taken a hit of something; a physical blow. He knew of her ghosts, but he didn't know of the power they held over her. He didn't know that when her lips fell from his, it was because her ghosts wanted to entwine with his skin, and she didn't want to share. She never learned how to. Maybe because she'd grown up with two older sisters, who never let her play with their toys. Because all of it was theirs. Because they got there first, and she was the third, the one that they could've been without. Of course, all of this changed when they grew up, but Anika never did learn how to share. She had skipped right over that lesson. With age toys turned to money, and trust, and power. Her hands only fell from his, because her fears would've shattered them, him.

Fingers brushed her lips, where phantoms spilled in mockery. She shouldn't have told him, Anika thought. Maybe then he'd just walk off, think she's had a change of heart, or was just a raging bitch. Made him think that this was all a game — of spin the bottle. Or that one where everyone hid in the closet. She'd been there once, with a boy she barely knew who wore the most ugly glasses, and she had warned him that if he tried anything she'd break his foot. They stayed in silence for however long, before they emerged from the closet. She did stomp on his foot, just so he would know that she wasn't bluffing. That defense mechanism she's worked on since childhood. But Reid had stomped on all her defenses. Those double doors were down and he knew of what went on in that haunted house. He knew of the creaking floor, and that leak in the basement. The lights that flickered, like the ones they stood beneath now.

I shouldn't. Fuck. She could quite literally jump out the nearest window just to save herself the misery. The thought of never knowing how he tasted crossed her mind. She'd have to sit in the prison of her own mind where she'd play endless guessing games. Bounce thoughts around like balls in a pinball machine — what if he'd taste of something sweet, like strawberries. She'd never seen him eat one, but she would very vividly imagine the way his mouth would wrap around one. Maybe something sour, bitter like the words on his tongue, those times they've fought over stupid, mundane things like who'd take out the trash. He would, and she'd promise to do the dishes, and then never do them. They'd live in that small apartment, and cross each other's paths every day, and she'd never get to know the taste. Then death would come for her somewhere in a ditch, or with hands burried deep in some monstrous fuck, and the afterlife would be her own personal hellish room where that guessing game would never cease. I shouldn't, he said. And you'd rather deem me a prisoner?

Her stupid heart stumbled. "No, no — You should've." a breath. "A very long time ago." maybe they'd learn to live with the ghosts, and the ever crumbling facade of both their watch towars. She dipped her head closer to kiss him, this time absent of hesitance. That hand on his chest curled in to grab a fist full of his shirt, and the other got lost in a mess of blonde. Only if she pressed more into him, would she stop running. Swiftly, she crossed one leg over him and moved to sit on his lap (only then would they ever be at an eye-level), while starved mouths were taking their fill.

Hurt tastes like smoky vanilla and caramel, burnt at the base of the pan. It isn't the agony of what he knows; the pain that comes with immortality; being present at a funeral never given; grieving for self and the loss of things still at the end of his fingertips. If Anika hurts him and it's like this, he would let her bury all the moth-shaped sharp things in his leg, his chest, his throat, every day — It's stupid. It's selfish and it's visible in the way that she breaks them apart. A ludicrous lapse in sensibilities that he wants to kick himself for. Teenage angst is two decades late, but the man behind the monster won't let it go.

If this is all the power he gives loss of control, he is thankful. Wandering mouths, drunk on glass-bottled whiskey. Somewhere beside and between them, like that dagger had been; the beginning of all things between them — Reid almost chokes on the memory that beginnings always have an ending. It has hands wrapped around his throat, stealing the life from him all over again. He wants immortality for a fleeting second; to never see an end; to see an endlessness that they can have a beginning every morning, or night or —

It's funny that he understands it then. Why old friends like Kiri obsess over the fact; that a lifetime seems so short, and sudden. Reid never let himself imagine all the things he would have done, in life. Because that is a grief that serves no purpose in undeath. He has reminders; like those kids in the arcade who Morgan wrangles daily and the domesticated life he sees of a family leaving the coffee shop, at closing time. Things he'll never touch. He'd thought that about countless things; about everything.

The hand on Anika's face uproots all of that. He's got a cold palm searing against the setting sun. He's never understood why she won't recoil, or run — she's always ran. He can hear the words snapped at her from his mouth. Not about this. Never about this, but, she's running from all the wrong things. He doesn't drown in that ocean alongside him; weighed down by heavy rocks and chains, he will forever know the price of it all.

Not once has it edged into the corner of Reid's understanding, that she might be warning him of more than blades and hunter responsibilities. That's all he knows. He hasn't lived her life, but he's been there, in flashes. In another life. This one is all skewed with a broken self-confidence and an arrogance brutally plucked out of him, inch by inch. But she's not cursing him, or mocking him. She's in a liferaft that's got a rip in it, and it's sinking. Instead of captaining; going down with the raft out of stubbornness, she's reaching out her hand, crying for help in the darkness. Reid knows what her hands feel like, and he grabs it because she never cries for help.

And she'd been there when his ship had been almost sunk to the watery abyss. When he feared the mountain ranges and was haunted by the fires of the forest that might take everything from him.

Warmth lingers on his lips and her childlike innocence reflects off his own. It's not innocent, not them, their thoughts; their lives. For the fucking life of him, he doesn't know what he's doing either. And where pride is but fumes, he cannot let out the embarrassing words of exactly how long it's been since he did know what he was doing. She can trick him easily with the way the slick of her hand dips at his collar, finding his chest. His gaze wanders, exploring her face like he's never seen it before; that he will never see it like this again. It's not clear who of the pair of them she's trying to convince it's not the whiskey.

"I know," It's quiet, and it's meant to reassure. It encompasses the facade of what he does and doesn't know — of what he sees and doesn't when he witnesses Anika flailing from that life raft. When she might remember to breathe, she could stop and consider the quake of nerves in his thigh from muscles long greyed. "I shouldn't—" He tries not to laugh in her face, because they're so close, that she's one leg away from climbing into his lap. It is the whiskey, he wants to say. But that sounds like something easily misunderstood. Reid lets his hand slip down her cheek, thumb lingering over her mouth, like a fool. I can take you inside... he almost says, before he thinks how badly that can be misconstrued. I'm being selfish. His teeth stab his tongue, ceasing the words before he tells her that in all its toxic glory.

"It's okay," It's all he knows how to say to her. It's okay for her to drive that stake into his heart, to laugh as she reaches for the bottle; for them both to forget this in an hour, or for them to wake up in the morning, wrapped in liferaft debris. It's not okay. He's not the selfless hero for suppressing an awful nature. And she's wrong, again. She's never going to hurt him. Not like he will her. Because that's all greedy monsters do. Hurt.

[nerdie-faerie]

Something kinda funny about the Mikaelsons constantly referring to Klaus as their indestructible brother

[purpleph4se]

devotion

armand x reader

warnings | smut, afab!reader, dom armand, fingering, praise, possessiveness, one mention of cheating sorta kinda? (we all know louis and armand’s relationship i mean would u call it cheating if it was open idfk)

a/n | 70s armand save me, save me 70s armand. so i finished iwtv in the span of one week and i can say i forgive armand for all his crimes, he’s just a girl <3 there is such a devastating lack of fics for my botticelli angel im here to mend that !!! i know i made that little post a while ago and i finally finished the fic i hope yall enjoy <3 crossposted on my ao3

part 2 here <3

“show me,”

his voice was a purr loud enough just for you to hear. you sat between his legs, chest pressed against the handsome stranger you met at the bar who managed to lure you into his home. “please yourself for me..” he usually doesn’t play with his food but the sight of your lips hung open, and the sound of your moans, he couldn’t help himself.

mesmerized by his voice, you trail your hand over your clothed sex finding the fabric had been soaked through. you shift to slip them off, a twinge of embarrassment making your face burn. you forced your legs apart, your head lolling back onto armand’s shoulder as your hand glided through your slick cunt.

“just like that, my love, make yourself feel good for me,” he whispered as he traced the curves of your body, stopping right at the dip of your hips. his grip on you was firm, as his lips left warm kisses on your neck. his touch was so precise yet so desperate to feel as much as possible of you.

“pl-please, touch me” you begged between whimpers, your legs were trembling as you could feel pleasure starting to bubble up uncontrollably. it was so overwhelming to feel like he was devouring you with his eyes, and touch. his praises were like fire flowing throughout your body as he consumed every cell of your body.

he hummed at your words, the utter desperation that he could feel seeping out of you made him want to fuck you without restraint, but he denied himself just to torture you.

“just my fingers, nothing more..” armand offered, he felt you tremble in anticipation forcing his hard cock against your lower back. you craved to feel him inside you, and he knew. 

armands breath tickles your ear as he slides two of his fingers over your slit. you squirm a bit as he ghosts just over your clit, his voice mumbling something about you being dripping for him. 

“thank y-you,” whispered again as his fingers slowly traced your skin, until they reached your folds. you were pushed closer to him, so he could effortlessly reach your sopping cunt as he kissed the dip of your shoulder. he could devour you if he chose.

his skin was cold to touch as you laid against him. “so breathtaking” he murmured as his elegant fingers barely touched your clit, your hips buckled to meet him “so sensitive,”

when he finally dipped his finger in you, that’s when his facade cracked. the way your warmth enveloped his finger, swallowing it hungrily and clenching around it, made his breath hitch. if armand concentrated enough he could picture what you would feel around his cock.

your small whine of 'more' causes him to smile against the nape of your neck as he inserts a second finger. he drags them in and out of you, slowly and gently before increasing the power behind them.

his other hand kneaded your chest, he wanted to worship every inch of you. you, kind stranger, distracted him from the boredom that was his life, his partner once again enjoying a young vulnerable boy.

you gasp grabbing onto his forearm feeling your body bounce a little as he did so, he pulled his head back to look down at you— his golden eyes dilating in either love or something sinister, you couldn't tell. "that’s it beloved, taking me so well”, his fingers curling up to search for that particular spot you liked “like you were made for me..” you whined in agreement before letting out a sharp moan, there he thought, abusing that certain spot.

armand pumped his fingers into you relentlessly as his thumb rubbed circles on your clit. for just moment he didn’t care about anything but the way you begged him for more, the way you would tremble in his arms as he added another finger, the way you desperately chased your orgasm. he could feel the desire rushing through your veins.

your hands dragged up his body until the settled hooked behind his head, pulling him closer as you felt a third finger gently split you open. your back arched, your chest hitting his as you felt that coil, that certain feeling in your stomach rise, ready to break.

"'m gonna cum— don't, don't stop, please please." you babbled, to which he listened, telling you to cum that he was right here for you. he pressed his lips against your jaw, the sweet kisses and soft worship a distinct contrast from his onslaught on your poor cunt. and then you heard him, like he was inside your head  “cum for me”, armand invited you to let go of everything, to allow the ecstasy to eat you alive, and you did. ‘cumming', you repeated— his name being slurred as you called out to him, eyes shut tightly.

you were hit by everything all at once, your senses blurred as you could barely control your body. armand’s name was the only thing you whine out through the overwhelming pleasure that took over you. he burned the sight into his brain, warm juices coated his hand as he slowed his movements, still overstimulating you just a bit.

you slumped against his chest, your blissed out state warming his abnormally cold one, he didn’t let go of you. you were out of breath, you stayed like that for a moment before he glanced at his fingers.

your pleasure dripped all over his pads, down to his palm, and he couldn’t help but take a taste of you. he took his time savoring each finger like it was ambrosia.

"messy little thing..let me clean you up."

[empressgetou]

A GIFT

husband poseidon x wife goddess reader

posiedon may be called as the most fearsome god or the god of gods or the tyrant of the sea, but all these titles meant nothing when it comes to his wife. y/n would call it as a facade considering that his attitude is the complete opposite of what the gods known him for.

the king of the seas had met his better half way back when he was still a boy. whenever he would visit the library of valhalla he somehow catches her just around the corner reading quietly all alone.

days turned into weeks that turned into months of visiting the library, he never misses her innocent figure by that very corner who seems to be on her own world. then one particular day, she finally approach him making his heart skip a beat by her voice.

"excuse me, lord posiedon. i don't want to interrupt you but i wanted to borrow the book you have got there since i wanted to finish the novel i am currently reading." she asked politely. little did she know, posiedon has taken interest of what the girl has been reading these past few days and have read in advance to finish the book first.

her voice it sounds alluring, as if the sirens were to hypnotize the humans in the ocean. he thought.

he nodded in response and gave the book. well he already finished the novel might as well let her borrow it.

"it is quite a surprise that my lord has taken interest in these types novels?" she then closely leaned into his side.

"would you mind if i seat here beside you? i'd like to know what your thoughts on this right after i read."

"no, but are you comfortable being with me?"

"hmm? why shouldn't i, my lord? as long as you're not feeding me to your piranhas back at atlantis then i dont mind." she innocently giggled as if there were no rumours of the young prince going around. not that she knows about those, the young goddess is too busy to gossip with the other young ones her age.

and with that interaction started their romance. with millions and millions of years have gone by and the gods have been happily married to each other, they are also known to be one of the most powerful couple in valhalla. with the two of them working together nothing seems to stop them. y/n being the goddess of healing and peace and poseidon being the god of the seas and waters sounded terrifying for the humans even for the gods. and with y/n's every step bringing happiness along the way there will always be poseidon following closely to him who keeps other gods or humans especially intimidated which results to y/n scolding him back at their place.

and just like any other day in the kingdom of atlantis, y/n all by herself in their very own library reading peacefully was cut off when a knock was heard.

"i'm home." said by a gentle voice.

"you're back home early, my beloved. did something happened?", y/n replied as she rose from her seat and greeted his husband with a light kiss.

"that half human happened. the gods have agreed to that filthy woman to have a fight between humanity and us gods, a ragnarok." he said full of frustration in his face.

she guided him to seat and ease his anger.

"i'm sure brunhilde has her reasons as to why she had done this, after all she is still a part of their kind."

"what made you upset?"

"i do not wish to participate in their foolish games. i am a god that is nowhere near a humans ability to reach and they dare try and compete with me? that is unacceptable!"

"you could withdraw from it if you don't wish to join them"

"the pantheon has already decided. no matter. i shall win of course those humans will not be in my way."

currently, zeus and adam fighting in the arena with a time of 5 minutes now. y/n seated beside his husband watching from the booth with hermes and other gods. they were informed beforehand that poseidon were to battle after his brother. y/n was anxious, not because of the fight she knew his husband was capable of defeating them, it was actually her secret that she may have been keeping from his husband a little while now. he looked at her and this made poseidon think that his wife was worried about him.

with now adam defeated by zeus, poseidon stood up and y/n following him by the back door.

"i'll be back this won't take long, my love." he said while cupping her face and his voice with no trace of arrogance but rather a soft one.

"i'll cheer you on, husband. and when you are done, there is something i'd like to tell you." this made poseidon curious.

is this why she had been spacing out lately? he thought.

she then kissed him good luck and said her i love you's.

during the battle y/n remained uneasy, kojiro sasaki is indeed a good swordsman with his skills and speed no doubt that he would've defeated a god. but not this god, posiedon managed to be much quicker to attack than sasaki's. and with that it ends as the god of the seas declared winner of the match. making it a score of 3 and the humans 0.

y/n stood up and rushed down into the doors going to the arena meeting his husband on the dimmed alley. posiedon caught by surprise his wife rushing towards him with open arms.

"i was worried about you! i glad it is over now!" she hugged him tight as if the world depends on it.

"i told you i would be back, though it did took me a while to finish." he could hear her quiet sniffles and decided to just walk off to the infirmary still holding her like a baby supporting her back with his right hand and her bottom with his other hand.

as soon as they were inside the room, he seated her beside him while the aids have come to heal the injured god.

"leave us, my wife shall take care of this." declared the god and were left to be alone with his spouse.

y/n did not hesitate and began her healing magic while doing so she could not help whether it is the perfect time to tell his husband of what she have been keeping these days. poseidon knowing his wife like the back of his hand can feel her uneasiness and decided to ask.

"there is something you wanna tell me." that made y/n taken aback a bit. no doubt that his husband would notice much sooner. she is not the type that keeps secrets after all, the goddess is more of an open book to poseidon.

"remember, i have something i'd like to tell you after you have finished your fight?" he nodded urging her to continue.

"i only found out recently and had been trying my best to keeping it for myself." she giggled.

"hera has spoke to me the other day when we were at the pantheon. she told me that eileithyia has informed her that i am with... a child." that made poseidon's world stop.

a child? he thought. they both have been trying for an offspring quiet some time now. he would always watch merfolks back at antlantis with their young ones. with their cute little fins and soft features and loud laughter's, no wonder the king of the seas would want one his own.

he pulled her towards him and hugged her tight depending his massive size into her delicate body. he would've bursted into tears if it weren't for her chuckle.

"i'm guessing you are happy with the news i brought, my love?"

"happy? no, no not just happy, dear. i am thrilled that we are finally able to have a child on our own." he looked deep into her eyes and kissed her passionately.

"thank you. this is the most precious gift that you have given me." he continued while still holding her close to his chest.

"we have been trying my husband, i'm glad that the goddess of labour has bestowed us such gift."

"although you are still horrible at keeping such secrets, i keep noticing you fidgeting from time to time." he smirked making y/n lightly smacking his chest.

"i love you, my dearest. and our child as well." he said with with full adoration while trying to hold his nonexistent baby bump.

"i love you much more, my husband."

masterlist

"now, let's fix that hair of yours hmm? it does not look too good after that swordman cut if off unequally." she laughed when she noticed it, that's because his hair can and only be touched by his wife and no other beings. that is when poseidon realized his hatred with humanity once more.

[vibingandsimping]

More random intimate positions/scenarios! Pt.2

Morally grey/villain characters this time!

Forewarnings: Dark content… including things like ownership, stalking, gore + obsession. Some pure fluff though :)

(I apologize for this being considerably longer compared to the others. I have been playing some more plus researching the lore. I feel more confident in my understanding of the characters and my writing.)

Gortash had his fingers wrapped around your chin as he beckoned you to look at him. You’re sat in his lap with your hands rested atop his shoulders. His expression is content with how closely pressed you are to his body. He could savor your warmth and read you so intimately. His brown eyes meet yours with a certain warmth laced in all the unwavering dominance. His lips quirk into a smirk as he watches your poorly built facade begin to crumble. His spare hand runs along the small of your back slowly… beckoningly. He'd be the hero of Baldurs Gate soon. He'd have all the power he dreamt of as a boy. Don't you wish to share that with him? His chest purrs when you keen into his touch. Good. He knew you could be a pretty thing for him. Such a formidable foe and he’d have you right by his side.

Minthara had her arms wrapped around your frame protectively. No matter how large or small you were in comparison. She was determined to hold you and plant some sort of reassurance into you. The way she regarded you was not that of any other. No, you were special to her and the woman realized it may not be so clear. She may be a cruel and a standard "drow", but beyond that there was an affection for you within her heart. She plants a kiss against the back of your shoulder-blades and it draws a shudder. Her muscles tighten around you as she presses her face into your shoulder, hot breath washing the junction of your neck and the flesh of your shoulder. You resist a second shudder. Unbeknownst to you, she’d follow you even if it was fruitless. Nothing was shaking her now that she was wrapped around you.

Orin's blade travels down your chest. It was gentle yet sharp... she wasn't particularly aiming to harm you but the thin streak of blood was enticing. The wound was so shallow it barely bubbled- just enough to alert her she broke the skin. Everything about the way she gazed at you was unhinged. You knew if she had pupils they'd be dilated. She draws her face downwards and laps at the tender flesh while you draw a shaky inhale. The whispers of praise and wishes for more barely reached your ears beyond the thrum of your heart. The slimy feel of her tongue worming it’s way up to your collarbones hitch your breath and you watch carefully. Each movement breeds more anticipation- she was soaking in your torment. She was wicked, truly, she devoted herself to you. You’d never understand her… but did you have to?

Ketheric’s hand laced with yours as you walked to his side. He was laid on his throne with open thighs as he acknowledged your presence. The man was aged and once a father. Well, technically still but Isobel regarded him with disowning. He long burned that bridge from his desperation and despair. You entered his life and turned things around. Everyone in Moonrise had never seen him so soft since he lost his daughter and wife. You took a seat on one of his thighs as he drew your hand to his face. His lips planted a gentle kiss on the back of your hand and then along your wrist. His beard tickled and caused you laugh, struggling against his hold as he stubbornly refused to let you go. When he finally did his lips were quirked upwards and there was a twinkling in his eye. He never thought he’d take a lover again… so he was glad when you broke down his walls. He’d once curse you for being persistent but now he’d praise you for it.

Raphael tugs on the invisible leash that was wrapped around your neck. You jerk forward on the bed as you kneeled with palms balancing you on the lush fabric. His wings were on grand display as his typically slicked hair tussled ever so slightly. Expression dark and expectant as you slowly crawled toward him. His brows furrowed as he tutted impatiently, a leg swinging out to hook around your thigh and jerk it underneath you. You collapsed as he drew you towards him with little patience. You now sprawled across his lower abdomen and crotch as his chest rumbles in amusement. Your skin burned with a mixture of pleasure and embarrassment. The hold he had on you, literally and figuratively, elicited a deep part of your brain. One that wished so carnally to be claimed… to be owned. Raphael would see to that, he promised, with one hand stroking your hair. You were such a sweet thing… and if you weren’t so persistent he’d lock you up for himself.

Kar’niss thought of you as a blessing. Truly, a drider like him didn’t deserve such an angel. He was supposed to be punished for all eternity for his shortcomings. He failed once and will never see to being a normal drow again. That’s why it didn’t make sense for him to be rewarded- but who is he to look at a gift with ungratefulness? He always holds you so tenderly… his body shockingly cold. He’s restless today, you note, as his eight legs skitter and his hands curl at you. There’s a flittering look in his face. A hunger he tried to conceal. When you question, he answers truthfully, drider need to feed on blood to survive. Every four days or he’d succumb to weakness and eventually die an empty husk. You offer yourself and he checks you for any hesitancy before diving in. He pierces the flesh with his sharp nails before indulging in the crimson that flowed. Between suckles and licks, he praises you for your generosity. Endless ‘thank you’s’ flow as much as your blood. He’s sure he’d never fallen deeper in love… or was it infatuation?

Haarlep knew their affection for you was essentially forbidden. Raphael handed you as a toy to them. Nothing more and nothing less- they should regard you only for his entertainment. They somehow found themselves wanting to indulge in your mind rather than your flesh after some time. It was your softness that first stunned them and foiled their pure-desire. Raphael never touched themself with such… they could barely find the word. Gentleness? Regard? They’d lay with you after your shared bliss and inch their nails down the side of your hip as you detailed your life. With a hand propping their head; they seemed enchanted. Mesmerized by how simple yet complex of a creature you were to them. Haarlep was a succubus and spent their life serving that purpose. They almost felt jealous of the freedom you held in life. They couldn’t help but find themselves fantasizing a life where you two lived in better circumstances. It was all a fantasy, though, they knew it with a bittersweetness.

Durge had always watched you from afar. Stalking, following and admiring. You caught their gaze amongst the crowd as they deliberately chose their next victim. You would’ve been easy. You didn’t hold yourself with a particular air in the ranks of Baldur’s Gate. Another citizen lost to the crazed killings of a maniac. It wasn’t until you’d noticed you had a secret admirer did your hackles raise. You could feel a pair of eyes on you at the most inopportune times. Then, came the letters at your doorstep detailing how they defied their nature. You could’ve been another hung corpse but instead they wished to wrap their mind around your heart and their lips amongst your neck. A shiver ran through you… a mix of disgust and a strange intrigue? Surely it was the way the letters were so detailed and deranged. You would’ve ignored it all until the stalking emboldened. You saw their figure in the window at night and through the alleyways. It was only a matter of time before they struck and claimed you as theirs. You’d simply have to keep an eye over your shoulder and hold a dagger close. If you could even strike them, that was.

[hughiecampbelle]

The Boys Preference: Being A Spy

Requested: Hi!! i love your content, i wanted to request maybe a preference how the boys + homelander would react if reader turned out to be a secret spy. for example, for the boys reader would spy for homelander and vice versa. i hope i worded it okay. Thanks 💓💓💓💓 - anon

A/N: This is such a fun idea!!! But it also hurts my heart lol. I hope you like it my love!!! Feedback is always appreciated 💜💜💜

Butcher wants revenge. He trusted you. He trusted you with information about Vought and Homelander (of which you already knew), but also about Becca and Ryan and Lenny. Things he wouldn't have shared with anyone else. They don't do tracking chips like Vought, though now he wishes they had. The second they find out you're working for Homelander, Butcher sees red. He's furious and yelling and ordering everyone. He feels out of control. As if raising his voice and making others listen to him will take all their secrets back. Will give him his power back. It won't. It doesn't. He makes a promise that if he ever comes face to face with you again, he'll kill you. He'll do it with his hands, not a knife or gun. He wants to take back his power.

Hughie is heartbroken. He opened up to you. He talked to you about Robin, and his parents, and even that night at Teks party. You knew every embarrassing story about him and all the songs he listened to and his complicated relationship with Annie, especially in the past few weeks. You weren't a threat or another Vought Supe, you were different. You were supposed to be different. When he finds out you've been working with Homelander he feels humiliated. You've seen every side of him, no matter how silly or stupid or whatever, and you still turned your back on him, on everyone. You never really cared in the first place. He doesn't fall into total denial, but a small part of him insists this isn't true. He doesn't say it, he doesn't vocalize it, but an even smaller part of him wishes you'd come back and explain. He just wants to know why you did it.

Annie knew something was up. She couldn't put it into words, she couldn't describe it, it was just a feeling. The feeling like, from season two, she describes walking around the tower feeling like there was a loaded gun in her face. You were the most powerful Supe she'd ever met. You were powerful and dangerous and that made her feel uneasy. You smiled when you were supposed to and laughed and you said all the right things, but there was just something off. After her time with Stormfront, she's gotten better at seeing people's true intentions. Or, at least, nor trusting the facade they throw on. She blames herself for not realizing, for not saying anything. Maybe if she had, it would have saved the team from all this heartache.

M.M. hates that he ever trusted you in the first place. You are a Supe, after all, and he never would have let a Supe near him or his friends. But you were so convincing, so sweet, so thoughtful. You really had him fooled. You had them all fooled. When it comes out that you were working for Homelander, he doesn't retreat into himself like Kimiko or seek revenge like Butcher. All the feelings he has, all the anger and hatred and shame, it all turns on himself. He blames himself. He should have seen who and what you were, your intentions. He should have been the one to realize what you were up to. But even looking back on it now, going through everything, he still can't pinpoint the red flags. You were just that good, just that believable.

Frenchie is in denial. You? Working for Homelander? That can't be. You worked together, you laughed together, you scraped off blood and guts together. This cannot be. M.M. and Butcher get especially angry at him when he vocalizes his denial. Even Kimiko will yell-sign at him, begging him to come to terms with it. You were a part of the team, you were his friend. He can't turn his back on you just like that. Whatever information you had given Homelander, it must've been a mistake. He really cared about you. He thought you cared about him. All this time, though, you were working for them. You were reporting back to them. If he can't trust you, who can he trust? For now, he's in denial. It's easier this way. It makes him feel better about the while situation.

Kimiko retreats into herself. Like after her fight with Stormfront, after losing Kenji, she hides under that table and watches TV and doesn't talk to anyone. You and Kimiko were close. You were almost as fluent as Frenchie. She told you about when her and him kissed, she told you about being scared from the virus, everything. She never thought you would have been part of Vought. She never would have suspected it. Ever. You were a Supe, but that wasn't enough to make you a bad person. Now she's hurting all over again. She's angry and sad and ashamed. She's furious and she can't take it out on anyone or anything. She yells at Frenchie who's deep in his denial, which makes everything worse. It just makes everyone else angrier.

Bonus! Homelander is furious. He's lethal. You disappear long before he realizes, taking out your chip and going into hiding with The Boys. It's been days since you were even in the tower and he uses everyone to look for you. The Deep and New Noir are absolutely fucking useless, so it's up to him and Firecracker to track you down. Sage rubs it in his face that she knew the whole time, which isn't helpful either, but it's part of a larger plan she's had, but does not disclose fully. Homelander wants you dead. He trusted you. He let you in on his life, his secrets, and you were just using him. No one uses Homelander. He's not going to let you get away with it. He's not going to let you see another day. You fucked him over. That's unacceptable.

[doremimosasol]

𝐌𝐚𝐭𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐨 𝐑𝐢𝐝𝐝𝐥𝐞 - 𝐇𝐮𝐟𝐟𝐥𝐞𝐩𝐮𝐟𝐟!𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫 𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐜𝐚𝐧𝐨𝐧𝐬 ✧

Ravenclaw!reader here

Slytherin!reader here

Gryffindor!reader here

warnings: none

word count: 1,2 k

requested

he was never interested in the Hufflepuffs

he saw them as stuck-up people

boring

people pleasers

and he thought they were absolute goody two shoes little did he know about the Hufflepuff parties they kept a secret from the rest of the houses

they were everything he didn’t like

they were also too nice for his liking

but even for their friendly nature, most of them didn’t like Mattheo after all

most of them actually hated him, and held grudges against the boy for whatever reason

no one except his closest friends liked him and the ones who seemingly did, just put on an act

or they just were too scared to go against the son of the Dark Lord

it made him feel extremely powerful, on top of the world

not being liked, not even by the kindest house in the school

except for you

it drove him absolutely insane, he was hated by all except for you?

at first, he even thought it was fake but you were actually being genuine

you always smiled at him when you crossed each other’s paths in the hallways

you voluntarily sat next to him in class when people would rather sit on the other side of the classroom, as far away from him as possible

you never distanced yourself when you two accidentally stood a little too close

you were comfortable around him?

it threw him off completely

ever since first year he tried everything to make you hate him too, like everyone else does

you were that one loose end

that one loose he’d so desperately try to get rid of

he’d throw insults and you’d just laugh it off

he’d make you trip and you’d apologize for walking in his way (really?)

he’d write scribbles on your paper and you’d laugh at the cute gesture

he even once locked you up in a classroom all alone and even then you forgave him

nothing worked, you’d never hate him

you’d never fear him

after 7 years he eventually gave up, as school was almost finished he didn’t see the use anymore

he’d just let you be

let you be kind

that’s where everything went downhill for him though

when he started to let you be, he started to look past his goal of trying to make you dislike him

he actually finally acknowledged your sweet heart, the absolute kindest student in the whole school

no one was like you

he grew a small soft spot for you, and at that moment he knew he had to protect you at all costs

he knew he fucked up by admitting to these feelings to himself but something about it made him feel warm

it melted the cold layer around his heart, which was never meant to be melted

he’d notice all the little things you did

you’d regularly help first years around school

you’d help around in the Three Broomsticks when it was busy on weekends, sacrificing your precious free time

you’d even help Hagrid with his odd creatures

feeding them almost daily; even when it rained, when it was early in the morning, and during dinner

you’d rather spend time with the creatures than eating together with your friends

it wasn’t that you didn’t have any friends though, you were one of the most popular Hufflepuffs

but was it due to your kindness or did people just take advantage of it?

you were too blind to see through people’s acts though

but Mattheo saw how people put on a nice facade in front of you to get something out of you

it was always when they needed something for themselves

you gave and gave and gave but never received anything

when he noticed this he wanted to do anything to make you feel appreciated for all the giving you did

that’s when you frequently started to receive anonymous gifts

you’d find notes in between the pages of your books, just a few kind words

you’d find roses in front of your door, never a bouquet, always one

one single red rose

it kept going for months, never knowing the real sender

it put a smile on you every single day, and Mattheo loved to see you smile

every time he left one of those roses at your door, he made sure to figure out your schedule to pass by you in the hallways and see that smile of yours

because it also made his day every single time

you appreciated the gesture so much

it made you feel all warm and fussy

you dried all the roses he got you and put the leaves in a special box

there was not one you threw away, always keeping them

forever

as the months progressed he started to leave small notes with the roses too, signed as “MR”

you never tried to figure out who it was, liking the mysteriousness of it

though, the initials could obviously only belong to one person

one specific Slytherin

on the day before graduation you finally got more than initials: “Meet me where the earth swallows the sun.”

the Black Lake…

it was the perfect time

the last day of school ever

the last day before graduation, leaving your second home behind after all

he wouldn’t have to explain his actions ever

because after this day he’d leave school behind, which meant also leaving you behind forever

excited but a little skeptical you approached the Black Lake at sunset, seeing the back of a well-known Slytherin boy

the one you could never hate

Mattheo Riddle

he turned around to meet your eyes, with no emotion to reveal his true intentions

he called you closer to him and when you stood in front of him, he put your hair behind your back

not without softly stroking your cheek, making it look accidental

you froze at that moment, completely lost in his warm brown eyes

you wondered how people could hate him when his eyes told a whole story

it was like coming home to a fireplace after a day in the snow

the browns hugging you like the warmth of fresh warm chocolate in your hands

he took something out of his pocket, hiding it in his hand

“Close your eyes”

you didn’t immediately comply, unsure of what his intentions were

“Trust me…”

you closed your eyes and you felt his fingers slightly grazing your neck when you heard a click behind it

he stood behind you, brushing your hair to the side for his lips to meet the back of your neck

the softness staying there for a few seconds

you felt his breath on your ear when he pulled away for a moment, his lips grazing your lobe

“Thank you, y/n…”

the whispering and his deep voice echoing in your ear

just when you decided to open your eyes, the touch disappeared

you turned around and he was gone…

around your neck was now a silver necklace with a beautiful silver rose hanging as a pendant

though you never gave him anything, you finally received something

but to him, you gave him everything…

kindness

[outromoony]

"Let it once be me"

Wolfstar microfic | Word count: 984 | ttpdmicrofic

@my-castles-crumbling

Sirius was crying in his bed.

Remus could hear him quietly sobbing beneath the covers. He usually couldn't, not when the other boy was always so careful to cast silence charms when he was having a bad night, but he could hear him now, and the sound of it was threatening to tear him apart.

Remus had never seen Sirius cry, at least not openly. Sirius never let him see him in that state; he always tried to run away from him to James or even Peter to comfort him when something happened. It was usually family matters, or at least that's what Remus thought, since Sirius would never open up to him. It hurt him, knowing that Sirius was in any type of pain, knowing that anyone had the power to make him look so vulnerable, and it hurt him that Sirius never trusted him with his secrets the way Remus trusted Sirius with his; he trusted him blindly with his secrets, with every single thought that made him who he was. Yet Sirius seemed to be breaking apart too often lately, and he couldn't even stand to look at Remus right in the eyes when it happened.

He got out of his own bed and followed the sound of Sirius's tears. They stopped instantly, and Remus knew Sirius must have heard him.

"Sirius?" Remus whispered close to the curtains. A noise close to a choke came out of them, and then Sirius emerged from behind, not meeting Remus's gaze.

"Sorry I woke you up," Sirius sniffed. Remus knew that the reason he was trying to look in the opposite direction was because Remus could see perfectly in the dark, and he didn't want him to see his red eyes and swollen face. "I was just—"

"What's wrong?" Remus asked before Sirius could finish, trying to be as gentle as possible. What if the reason Sirius never talked to him was because he was bad with words? Because he was too cold? "Sirius, please talk to me."

"It's nothing, just..." Sirius swallowed, closing his eyes. "I will just talk to James in the morning."

That was like a punch in the stomach to hear, because Remus was right there, yet Sirius preferred to wait hours to speak with James about it, and if he couldn't, Remus knew he would prefer not to talk about it at all.

"I—am I too harsh? Do you think I wouldn't understand? That I would judge you?" Remus couldn't wrap his mind around what Sirius might think of him, and maybe that was his own fault for trying so hard to keep a facade for everyone else. "I know you don't trust me, and that's fine; you don't have to, but just please—"

"Fuck, Remus, I trust you with my life," Sirius finally looked at him, and the only thing Remus could see in his beautiful blue eyes was pure sadness. "I trust you with everything I am; this has nothing to do with trust."

"Then what?" Remus almost shouted, almost forgetting it was three in the morning and the rest of his friends were sleeping peacefully. "Why do you always push me away when you're feeling down? Why would you never talk to me? Why is it always James, Peter, or even sometimes the girls? Sirius, please, just... let it be me; let it once be me."

Sirius was looking at him with wide eyes, and when he finally spoke, his voice sounded so small it almost made Remus cry.

"It has always been you," He said those words as if they were the secret of the creation of the universe, as if that was the answer Remus had been waiting for. "It has always been you; everyone knows it but you."

"What are you—"

"You're the reason I try to be strong, the reason I try to stop the tears from falling and the heart from aching, because you once told me I was the bravest boy you've ever met, but I am not, Remus, not anymore, and I cannot stand to look at you when I am a bloody tangle of sadness for something so fucking stupid."

"Siriu—"

"And you're so... you, and in everything I do, in every decision I take, there's always your name in the back of my mind, and I want you to love me so fucking bad, but how could you ever do that when I'm just a pile of disaster and sadness?"

"I love you," Remus responded almost immediately without even thinking about it, meaning every word. "I love you—the brave you, the sad you, the disaster you. That's not changing, Sirius, ever; there's nothing you could do or say that would make me feel different about you; you dont need to pretend with me, to hide. I thought we stopped hiding from each other a long time ago."

"You just—you don't understend, Remus; you would not be saying this if you knew how I feel about you. You don't love me the way I love you; you don't—"

"I do," Remus whispered softly. He bent down slightly to remove Sirius's hand from his face and took it between his own, kissing his knuckles. "I really fucking do."

Sirius held his breath the moment Remus spoke those words, his hand almost shaking when Remus lifted it to touch his lips. His eyes were mostly full of something like surprise and disbelief; but behind all of that, Remus could see love—oh, so much love.

"So..." Remus spoke when Sirius didn't. "Can it be me? Please? Just this one time."

And then Sirius finally smiled, a tender expression crossing his face. “Maybe it’s time we let it be us.”

[escespace]

Read part three of this here

Arthur didn't know what to say after that because he himself had been thinking that he had never really known Merlin (And He was not going to admit it, but it had also hurt).

Merlin came into his life like a whirlwind of disaster and Arthur, who had fought all his life to be the prince his father wanted him to be, felt a slight threat that all his effort would fall apart. The boy continued to act like everything a subordinate should not: too talkative, too critical, too clumsy. Sometimes people heard him talk to him as if he were not a prince and Arthur had fear his father come and scold him.Then Merlin would ruin a dinner by spilling something or speaking ill of a nobleman and the stain would fall on Arthur.

Arthur knew he would be a problem from the moment his father made him his servant without consulting him.

And now here they are, in a lodge forgotten by the gods, wounded, confused, with a political problem that could cause a stir among the peasants and Merlin proved that Arthur was right in the beginning, it is a weakness to trust. Merlin has dared to humiliate him, challenge his beliefs, spit on Arthur's legacy...

And Arthur would be lying if he said he hadn't conscientiously allowed him to do so.

Just as Arthur allow him to call him names, to hit him back, to make jokes, to question his instructions, just as he allow him to have opinions that contradict everything that the council members instruct him. Merlin became the person he let see the side he let no one else see. The one he turned to for resonance for his thoughts and insecurities, and damn! The person whose advice he value the most. All because from the first moment many years ago that Merlin stood before him as if Arthur were a simple man, to defend what was right, Arthur knew that Merlin had something. Something he wanted, that he needed, that he craved: Merlin was honest.

Honest to values, honest to people and honest to oneself

But it was all a facade, right?

Merlin hadn't been honest with him in gods knows how long...

Merlin has magic. Powerful magic that has healed every single person in the room (except him, of course) and he didn't even mutter a word. He said that if he thinks he's learned magic then he's not what Arthur thinks he is, but what does that even mean in principle?

Arthur sees how Gwaine is the first to approach Merlin, and it's not that he doubts that he would be (Lancelot doesn't count because he doesn't seem to leave his side since everything happened). And he was quite of smiling, really, like there was a joke that only Gwaine knew about, but that's just Gwaine every day so it didn't surprise him. He was surprised that the next one to approach was Leon, solemn and stone faced as se is only when he presents in front of a knight who should not stay in the line of service by mutilation or old age, only to break to ruffle the hair over Merlin's forehead.

And it was all so confusing because HOW IS EVERYONE SO CALM ABOUT THIS? Because Arthur feels like he's the only one with thoughts rioting from two very disorganized and violent sides of his mind. Percival and Elyan haven't moved at all, but the former doesn't even seem surprised and the latter is too shocked.

(I'm opening parentheses here because I didn't want to mess the previous paragraphs, but note that Arthur doesn't exactly repeat what Merlin said in the previous fragment because even though he never said it out loud, he and Merlin cannot be defined as just "close").

At some point even Elyan and Percival approached Merlin and seemed to have so many questions but Arthur was so deep in his own thoughts that he didn't notice. Leon returned to his position as close to Arthur as he would allow, knowing that although Arthur probably wouldn't see him approach, he wouldn't really appreciate it as soon as he came to himself.

Night fell and no one slept, either because they were watching the captured, because they still didn't feel safe (Merlin) or because they had a lot to think about (Arthur).

As the sun began to show its first signs of rising, Arthur had a new resolution.

He walked faster and more determined than any of the knights could have prevented and ended up grabbing Merlin by the lapels of his jacket to slam him into the wall.

«Heal me��

Seconds of expectant silence was all Arthur could bear before he repeated himself in a more aggressive voice, rolling out what could well have been a growl:

«HEAL.ME»

Feeling the contact of Merlin's palm against his wound, he turned his gaze there. Concentrated more than he should have in scars, veins, tendons... Any small detail that could distract him from the golden glow that would take away the cerulean gaze that was one of the few certainties he still held.

And as Merlin's accelerated breathing beat against his golden bangs, he can't help but notice that these are the hands of a worker. For while no one could attest that Merlin was even decent at his job, it was known that he still had a way of standing out in his very rare way

«Why didn't you do it before?» Arthur asked, looking up, once the warm sensation ended.

Arthur had thought that what made him stand out was that no one was more dedicated to him than Merlin, not his knights, nor the castle servants, not even those who had watched him grow up; and if someone as honest Merlin was so invested in him that had to mean something.

«You don't seem like the type to be comfortable with magic being used on them»

Perhaps that would be another certainty that remained after all but there was still so much to know before determining how deep the betrayal ran.

«You, the sorcerer who believes that Royalty it is corrupt, do you care about my comfort?»

But Merlin has no memory, right? Why would he care about Arthur? That still wouldn't erase that he is a liar.

A liar

A liar

A liar

« don't think deeply about it... Using magic on a few knights is not the same as using magic on the prince»

«You didn't want me to bleed out? To harm Camelot once and for all?»

«Cry me a river. That barely bled, You moron!»

THAT! That was a truth. And if Merlin can still be his absurd self, and his honesty is still there, then of all the doubts he has, only two might matter. Arthur was beginning to fear that the answer to whether Merlin feared him would be worse than hearing him say that it had always been a strategy to end the kingdom.

With a smile, too mocking for the nostalgia in Arthur's eyes, he finally asked:

«If you could have anything in the world, what would it be?»

The throne of camelot

The head of the Pendragons

A sea of blood for every drop spilled by a sorcerer

«Just freedom»

.

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.

.

.

.

.

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I don't know what to say. I don't even know what I just wrote.

It took me so long to continue this because I wanted to make this concept a proper fic. But i'm in a terrible block. Either way I want to give it closure (This is not the end! But soon) because I know how it ends and it's not a big deal, but the idea has to get out of my head somehow.

[obriengf]

stiles stilinski | the ultimate altruist

just thinking about the concept of self-sacrifice; putting one's needs and wants before yourself. doing everything in your power to ensure that others are cared for, that they're safe, even if you suffer. nobody exercises this more than stiles mieczyslaw stilinski.

he is more than the boy that ran with wolves... he challenged them, outsmarted them, protected them, to an extent he became them. stiles was always underrated because he was human but what others denied to see was that he kept his pack alive. he would do anything for his pack and it would result in his quiet suffering - how he would fade away at times, leaving doors open and the exhaustion would welcome in demons and foxes that happily ate him alive.

can you just simply imagine how empty he would feel for years after the kitsune slipped from his body, but not before devouring the spark that once gave an overly-energetic boy his livelihood. and yet, when his pack howled, he came. he fought. he sacrificed.

they knew this, his pack - they knew that he somewhat suffered. they could see it in the way his honey eyes turned to murk over time, how his smile that epitomised sunshine and mischief would eventually become a facade. they loved him dearly, and his sacrifice wasn't unbeknownst to them... but they couldn't stop the darkness from etching itself deeply into every crack and mold of his bones.

he was wearing thin. like a rubber band pulled tightly, over time it would wear, it would stretch, and eventually it would break. stiles stilinski felt lucky that he still had at least fragments of his mind that were still sound.

he would bleed for those who could heal, and oh how he wished he could take away someone's pain. he knew what it was like to hurt - to feel as if every bone in your body was breaking, to be taken over by anguish, just simple side effects of the kitsune taking his body for a long and painful ride. it was important that the people he loved never felt as helpless as he did, which so easily became the driving force for putting them all ahead of himself.

he walks a path of self-destruction. the voices in his head screaming for air, for much needed rest and recovery. but his will drowns them out, and will only get louder the more he pushes his wellbeing aside for the ones that he loves. and in the end, it will be his ultimate downfall.

[lecsainz]

PICTURES

parings: harry styles x actress!reader

request: Hey, saw u write for Harry Styles! Can u do a oneshot where y/n's parents r famous actors, she n Harry got somethin' goin' on but ain't makin' it official. He's on the Take Me Home tour when she calls him to sort things out 'cause paparazzi pics with other girls surfaced, but he didn't actually cheat.

authors note: OMG haven't written anything about harry in years, like seriously, this brought back sooo many memories 😭

☆. . . masterlist !

Y/N Aniston was the daughter of a renowned actress, yes, Jennifer Aniston herself. She grew up with the media at her feet, and just like her mother, she chose to follow a career in acting. Little did she know that due to her fame, she would end up meeting a singer from one of the biggest boy bands of 2013, who would bring her a lot of headaches.

Harry and Y/N crossed paths during the VMAs, in line for the bathroom. They don't remember when exactly, but at some point during the night, they found themselves in her limousine, having a quickie. However, that quick encounter became a regular thing whenever they met up.

And Y/N developed feelings for the green-eyed boy. She liked him a lot. Maybe she even loved him.

Harry had embarked on the Take Me Home tour, and some photos of him with other girls had been taken by paparazzi. Even though they weren't officially an item, her heart shattered nonetheless. Those pictures felt like daggers to her heart, and they hurt like hell.

And here she was, sitting on her bed, heart almost racing out of her chest, waiting for Harry to appear on the screen.

"Y/N!" Harry's face popped up on the screen, lying on the tour bus bed with a sleepy yet adoring smile.

She managed a small smile, her nerves getting the best of her. "Hey, Harry."

His eyes sparkled as he looked at her. "Missed you."

Y/N felt her heart skip a beat. Despite everything, the sound of those three simple words from him still had a powerful effect on her.

"Missed you too," she admitted, her voice soft.

They talked about everything and nothing, the conversation flowing as naturally as it always did between them. But as the minutes ticked by, Y/N knew she couldn't avoid the elephant in the room any longer.

"Harry, about those pictures..." she trailed off, her heart racing.

He sighed, running a hand through his hair. "Y/N, I'm so sorry you had to see those."

She looked down, feeling a mix of emotions. "It's just... hard, you know?"

Harry's expression softened. "I know, love. They're not what they seem."

She raised an eyebrow, curiosity piqued. "What do you mean?"

"I mean, they're not real," he confessed, his voice earnest. "It's all a publicity stunt, arranged by Simon."

Y/N's eyes widened in surprise. "What? Why?"

"He wants to maintain that image, make me appear as the 'ladies' man' for the fans," Harry explained, frustration evident in his voice. "But it's all a facade. I hate it."

Y/N felt a mix of relief and anger. Relief that the pictures weren't real, and anger that she had been hurt by something so manufactured.

"I had no idea," she admitted, her voice softer now.

Harry's eyes bore into hers. "Y/N, you know I care about you, right?"

She nodded, a small smile tugging at her lips. "Yeah, I do."

"I'm not looking for meaningless flings, Y/N," he said, his voice determined. "I want something real."

She felt her heart race, hope stirring within her. "Harry..."

Just then, the atmosphere on the tour bus shifted as the other members of One Direction appeared on the screen, grinning widely.

"Hey, is that Y/N?" Niall's voice chimed in.

"Y/N!" Louis exclaimed, waving enthusiastically.

“Our favorite girl!" Zayn added.

Y/N chuckled, her heart swelling with fondness for the boys. "Hi, guys! I miss you all."

"We miss you too!" Niall exclaimed.

Y/N's cheeks turned slightly pink as she greeted the rest of the band. She had known them for a while now, having met them through Harry. They had always been incredibly welcoming and friendly towards her.

"Long time no see," Liam said with a warm smile. "How've you been?"

Y/N chuckled. "Oh, you know, just taking over the world."

Harry rolled his eyes playfully. "As if she hasn't already."

Zayn smirked. "You're in good company, Y/N."

Niall leaned in closer to the camera. "Harry talks about you all the time."

Y/N shot Harry a teasing look. "Oh, really? What kind of things does he say?"

Harry's cheeks turned a light shade of pink. "Just good things."

Louis wiggled his eyebrows. "We can all tell he's smitten."

Y/N couldn't help but laugh, feeling a sense of camaraderie with the guys. She had seen them at their goofiest and most genuine moments, and she was grateful for the bond they shared.

"Well, Y/N, if Harry doesn't treat you right, you know where to find us," Zayn said with a wink.

Y/N playfully rolled her eyes. "Thanks, Zayn. I'll keep that in mind."

"We saw those pictures, by the way," Louis said, his tone slightly teasing.

Y/N's cheeks flushed, but she managed a sheepish smile. "Yeah, I guess they're making quite a buzz."

Niall rolled his eyes. "Don't take those too seriously. They're just playing with ya."

"Yeah, Simon probably thought it was good for marketing," Liam added.

Zayn nodded. "It's all part of the game."

Y/N let out a sigh of relief, feeling their genuine support. "Thanks, guys. It's just been a bit overwhelming."

"We know, love," Louis said, his eyes softening. "But remember, you're stronger than the headlines."

Zayn chimed in. "Harry's been a mess ever since those pictures surfaced."

Louis nodded. "Yeah, he's been moping around like a lost puppy."

Y/N's lips curved into a grateful smile. "Thanks, guys. Your words mean a lot to me."

"Anytime, Y/N," Niall grinned. "Now, you make sure to keep our Harry in line, okay?"

Zayn chuckled. "Yeah, we can't have him causing any more trouble."

Harry pouted playfully. "Hey, I'm a changed man."

"Sure you are," Louis quipped, earning a laugh from everyone.

Harry leaned closer to the camera, his voice soft. "They adore you, you know."

Y/N's smile grew warmer. "I can tell. And I adore them too."

The connection was beginning to falter, the image on the screen slightly pixelated as Harry's voice crackled. "I wish I could hear your laugh properly right now."

Y/N chuckled, the sound distorted by the poor signal. "We'll have to fix that soon."

Harry's expression turned more serious. "Y/N, I've been thinking... I want to talk about this face-to-face. This distance between us, it's not fair."

Her heart skipped a beat, hope and apprehension mingling in her chest. "Harry..."

"I mean it," he said with determination. "I want to have an honest conversation, in person. No screens, no miles between us."

Y/N nodded, her own resolve strengthening. "Okay, Harry. When?"

"I'll be back in a few weeks," he replied. "After this leg of the tour. We can find a place to meet up."

She felt a mixture of emotions, excitement and nerves intermingling. "I look forward to it."

"I do too," Harry said softly. "I want us to have a proper conversation, Y/N. No misunderstandings, no miscommunications."

Y/N smiled, her heart swelling with anticipation. "I want that too."

As the signal continued to weaken, Harry's voice grew fainter. "I'll see you soon, Y/N."

"Can't wait," she whispered, her voice barely reaching him.

And then, with a final wave and a promise in their eyes, the call disconnected, leaving Y/N with a renewed sense of hope and a countdown to the day when they would bridge the physical and emotional distance that had grown between them.

[raconteur-wanpi]

One Piece 1131

It's finally here after the 2 week break!

I'm glad we begin right where we left off, with Luffy and Loki finally having a proper interaction! This instantly made me laugh, Luffy is a certified yapper. His true power really is responding to the most serious and broody of intimidating figures with his silly guy ADHD and making fools out of these try-hards by annoying them. He really is a walking cartoon! I just knew in my heart, turning the page, Loki would cut him off by telling him to shut-up already. This is a classic bit and I live for it.

This also instantly kinda makes Loki more fun of a character to me lmao. Being presented with a scary guy only to immediately kinda make fun of him is Oda's expertise. Nobody is immune to being laughed at a bit, and it does instantly make Loki more charming.

He soon confirms what fans have been theorizing since Water 7; that the Yggdrasil-style-tree that encompasses Elbaf is the Treasure Tree Adam! Nice to finally know for sure, it'll be interesting for the Sunny in a sense to have returned to its "birthplace".

Also interesting how he introduces himself as the "pride of Elbaf's strength" when in the last chapter we learn of him as the "shame of Elbaf". Is it his own ego? Trying to twist the way his people see him? Is this him being a liar similar to Usopp, exaggerating who he is? Or is it his own delusions? It's an interesting contrast, I wonder what the language used here is in the original Japanese.

Loki is also, well... extremely Luffy-like in some ways actually. Being introduced as a "sun god", getting new people's names wrong, and as we'll see later, befriending wild beastly animals... This is an extremely interesting parallel. It seems to me they're already sides of the same coin, and I am soooo intrigued by it going forward.

It seems Loki has really met his match, and I doubt he expected someone like that to show up. Luffy responds to the beasts with nostalgia instead of fear, I wonder how that make the "accursed prince" feel...

Interestingly enough, Loki seems to have a sort of cult or following of human-sized people dedicated to him! They call him master and listen to his commands... maybe they're people who really see him as the Sun God?

Luffy immediately tames the beasts, like he did back during the timeskip! Of course, once he hears Loki insulting Shanks, his good mood seems to go away.

Loki also pulls a "I'm just joking bro, I'm just a silly guy c'moooon, you wouldn't punch a guy tied to a tree would ya? A birthday boy?" when he realized Luffy is actually pretty powerful. Good 'ol Schrodinger's douchebag. He does showcase a lot of duality, acting all mighty and smug towards "puny humans", but then his facade breaks a few times, he twists his reputation and claims he's just joking etc, it does fit the idea of a "trickster" a lot, considering his mythological basis. I'm still struggling to grasp his true personality and goals, and while he does speak the way you'd a expect a villain would... he kind of doesn't feel like he's going to be the main obstacle of the arc to me, and I can't truly explain why.

He also, interestingly, seems to have a negative bounty!? If I read that right, at least. Perhaps the government's way of saying "we don't want him, if you bring him in YOU'LL have to pay us to deal with him" or something??? We'll see if it's indeed a minus or not, it is described as a "special bounty".

Back to the Strawhats on the bridge, Gerd, Goldberg and Rodo seem to be rushing out with the Sunny as fast as possible. I'm assuming they're trying to get to where Harjudin is and explain the situation to him, considering that the ship belongs to their crew's grand fleet commanders. These two are probably mad as hell at Rodo lol. I can't tell if they're chasing him angrily here or what, haha.

Despite Usopp's insistence (and him being correct as always) the group still decides to run away from these giants. Oh Usopp, if only they listened to you, this debacle would be over much quicker. As per usual.

Speaking of Harjudin (and the one missing member of his crew, Stansen), here they are! They're in the same area actually, going for a hunt so they can prepare a feast for the Strawhats! That's kinda sweet, I wonder how the reunion of all separated groups so far will happen.

I wonder if it'll end up going to disaster because of Luffy accidentally freeing Loki or something. Loki did try to convince Luffy to find the key to his seastone chains earlier, but Luffy seemed to kinda ignore him. I wonder if Luffy will end up actually being manipulated, especially after Loki insulted Shanks and pissed him off. Then again, Luffy not only forgives easily, but he is also convinced easily, so who knows!

Back to the giants' ship...... oooooh my god. I think I almost cried. My heart expanded in size seeing this alone, you have no idea how happy I am. She's back. Our girl cut her hair so Saul will recognize her....shut up. Shut UP. That's so sweet, I think I am going to explode. Welcome back bangs Robin I missed you so much. This better be permanent!!!

In which Franky is literally me. I knew it before they confirmed it, it really is about meeting Saul........ I'm going to explode.

But uuuh, bad news. Saul might.... not be in good health? Did he get injured? What does this mean. I swear to god, if something happens to him before Robin gets to see him......... Please god tell me this is going to just be a bit or something, oh god. Ending the chapter here, huh? Straight up evil!!!!

Anyway, I am soooo looking forward the next chapter. I am still... on the fence about Loki being the main Bad Guy. He clearly thinks of himself as a grand destructive force, yes, and looks down upon "puny humans" and the such, sure, and even contemplates about killing Luffy after he is freed if need be, but... I'm just so suspicious of the way he's introduced. Maybe he'll be more of a morally gray anti-hero, or a temporary antagonist. Maybe I'm wrong and he'll indeed be the next pure-evil Doflamingo type threat. But maybe he could even be a "redeemable" Bellamy type character instead. I have no clue, it's way too early to tell. But just seeing the way Luffy just kinda chills with him in some of the panels in this chapter.... I'm kinda hoping it's the latter, they have a charming dynamic. They're already so similar, surely there's more to Loki's story.

After all, this is the guy that was infatuated with a lovable character we know dearly as the audience, Lola, to the point of denying to marry her identical sister. That tells me there's more to this guy than meets the eye. Am I reading too much into it? I could be completely off the mark, but we'll see!

[charleslee-valentine]

The Lost Boys name etymology:

As the leader of the group, we’ll start with David. The name David means ‘lover.’ His approach to vampirism is somewhat romantic. The ritual and the wine mixed with blood, takes on an erotic edge for example. Their lips touching the same bottle and the exchanging of fluids, and the haze that follows. His role as the leader could be violent given his power, or indifferent like Max’s way of running things- but he chooses to genuinely savor each member of his little pack. The tears he sheds for Marko are shed with love. The words he whispers to Michael, conscious or not, are endearing and soothing. Whether these bonds are more than platonic to him, or even approached in an acceptable way, he still has loving and sharing that love deeply in his nature, amplified by his powers.

Following him is Dwayne. Dwayne can mean ‘dark.’ Not just referring to his hair among the group obviously, his name could give a tiny glimpse into his character. Being less than a main character his screen time and thus his analytical depth is limited, but something about Dwayne is he can go from smiling with the group, to taking on a very stoic or cold expression fast. The ‘darkness’ inside Dwayne could be festering more than the other boys and making the whole -slightly irritating but mostly harmless teenager facade- a lot harder to keep up for him. Notable especially around Max is that stoniness. Part of his depth, it seems, is distrust for anyone outside of his boys, even his own sire. Dwayne’s edge (and weakness, actually) is his quickness to hold those dark and bitter feelings.

Marko involves some mythology to understand his meaning. The name itself stands for ‘dedicated to Mars,’ and Mars is the God of a few things, prominently war and feral nature. What this means for Marko is possibly strength and power. Of course, he is the smallest and that’s why he’s picked off first, but had the fight been between an awake Marko instead, his name hints at him possibly being the most brutal of the pack. It would make sense, that smaller stature equates to speed, in addition to the heightened vampire powers. Marko probably strikes like a feral animal. His tendency to drift to David and, in the words of Alex Winter himself, serve as something of a lap dog to him, is also possibly because of this nature. The idea being that he sacrificed some of his humanity to the brutality of vampirism and turns to David like a handler of sorts.

Finally is Paul. Maybe unexpectedly, the name means ‘humble.’ Where this personality trait can most prominently be seen is in Paul’s treatment of Star, Michael, and Laddie. He seems to be the only one to empathize with how unsettling vampirism can be and offers gentleness to each, at least in the novelization. There are also still distinctly human traits to him like his substance use, his more enthusiastic expressions, and turning on the radio, which he initiated out of the group. Even refraining from harassing (though affectionately, as we know from the deleted scene) Maria the video store worker. It seems that Paul uses being a vampire to intimidate humans and half vampires much less than the others. This makes him a branch towards humanity. Where he loses his humbleness is when he dies. He takes the time to brag about the stupidity of the Frogs and it costs him time. In his grief he gave up a trait that was so woven into him, and thus became reckless enough that he gets killed.

That’s the case with all of the boys really. Their rage and grief over Marko’s death meant letting those qualities either amplify or disappear to the point of losing themselves, and then losing the fight. In Dwayne’s case, he embraced the violence in himself and targeted Sam even when he knew it wasn’t safe because of Michael’s proximity. The ‘dark’ quality of him took over the common sense. As for David, he trusted in Michael so blindly that he was still trying to coerce him to their side. Even after Marko was gone and now the boys were dropping like flies, it was too hard for him to just stop loving someone. It only becomes clear too late, and then Michael has the upper hand and David’s the one dying.

[desi2go]

Beneath the city lights

pairing: mafia! Changbin x reader

warning: angst with a happy ending, weapons, blood, death

author's note: HAPPY BIRTHDAY BINNIE!!!

Seo Changbin sat in his dimly lit office, a glass of Gin in his hand. He was a ma of power, the undisputed mafia boss of the city, feared and respected by all. His life was one of control, calculated decisions and iron-fisted rule over his territory that even extended over the border of the city.

But there was one thing that he cherished more than his whole empire. You. You were his light, the one person he could turn to when he felt down. Only you could see behind his facade of his cold and composed demeanor. He never thought he would meet a person that could bring back his soft personality, yet, you came into his life like a summer breeze, gently but impossible to ingnore. Your laughter was the melody he saught after a hard day of blood and betrayal, your touch was the warmth he craved in a world of cold shadows.

But tonight, Changbin's world was on the brink of chaos. It started with a phone call. The voice on the other end was calm, almost to calm.

"We have her, Changbin" The words were like ice water down his spine. He knew who was on the other end of the phone. It was his enemy who tried for years to take over the reign.

"You heard me? We have your girl and if you want to see her again alife, you will do as we say." Before he could even reply something, the line went dead. For the first time in years, he felt a chill of fear running down his spine. You were everything to him, his whole world. He would do anything for you even this meant that he needs to give up his control. He felt like nothing without you. Like a small boy, all alone in this big world.

Without wasting a second, Changbin called his most trusted man - Chan, his right hand and best friend since the first day. He explained the situation quickly, his voice a cold whisper, filled with anger and distress that boiled beneath the surface.

"They have taken Y/n. We are getting her back" he described what happend briefly.

"What's the plan, Boss?"

"Tell Han that he needs locate where they are keeping her. Fast. I want to have her back before sunrise" Chan agreed, already contacting Han, the most skilled hacker of the group.

"He will dig up everything on our enemies. We will find her" Chan added promising.

Hours passed like years as Changbin waited for the informations from Han. The others were already contacted and ready to get you out as soon as possible. His mind raced through scenarios, but one thing remained clear. He would tear the city apart. Brick by brick if it meant saving you.

Finally, Han send him the location where you were supposed to be captured. It was an abandoned warehouse at the edge of the city, a place where deals were made lives were lost.

He let out a long breath, some weight was lifted off his shoulder. It meant that he was just a small time away to finally hold you in his arms again. Changbin put his knive and gun in his pockets, walking to his car and drove to the address. During the whole ride there was a total silence, just the rhythmic tipping of Changbin's fingers against the stirring wheel could be heard faintly.

Finally, he and his men neared the warehouse and he ordered them to spread out and take positions. With all cost, he didn't want to risk a shootout. Not, when you, his most precious thing, was in danger and could possibly get hurt. But he was still prepared for one in case his enemies threatened you too much.

He entered the warehouse, a house made of old bricks that slowly fell apart, followed by Chan and Felix, his best fighters for such missions. They moved within the shadow in silence, not daring to draw the attention of the enemy to them. The interior was dark, the air thick with the smell of dust and decay as they walked through the maze of crates and metal beams, always on high alert for any sign of movement.

Then, they reached a large open space in the center of the building. Your front was facing him, sitting in the middle of the open room. Above you, the upper floor was demolished and changbin could see some of his enemies men patrolling. You were tied to a chair, your hands secured with a rope to the back of it. All he could see was that you shook, propably from the cold air and mostly fear.

Changbin's heart ached at the sight of his beloved, but he needed to be focused. When he was unwary now that would mean that he would most definitely loose you completly.

You, on the other hand, were unknowing to your lover's presence in front of you. Your head hurt due to a hard hit to knock you out. Dried blood stuck on your temple and your lip was slightly chapped.

You knew that Changbin was about to save you. It was just a matter of time. Despite that, there was a fear within you that makes your body shake. A fear that he might come to late or that these people will hurt you further. It was the first time that someone tried to control Changbin with capturing you after all. You never have thought that perhaps somebody will hurt you because you thought that they all were afraid of your lover's merciless and wouldn't touch you.

Changbin spotted his enemy right beside you, a smirk on his develish face.

"Seo Changbin" the man sneered. "Nice to see you here. I wondered how long it would take you to get here" You turned your head so that you could see your boyfriend. Changbin walked out of his hideout while Felix and Chan stayed there, still unnoticed.

"Let her go, and I will consider letting you walk out of here alive" He replied deadly calm.

His enemy laughed, a cruel sound that echoed in the empty hall. "You are in no position to bargain. Remember, I won't hesitate to hurt her"

Changbin's eyes flahed with anger. He had never been one to negotiate with threads. With one swift motion, he pulled out his gun, already aiming at his enemy. However, his rival had expected this reaction and held a knive against your thoat, lightly cutting into your skin so that some blood ran down your neck.

A high whine and a crie escaped you due to the pain and it fueled your boyfriends anger even more but he knew that he couldn't shoot now. Not, when your life is in danger.

"I can't believe it. The great Seo Changbin is brought to his knees for a woman" the man behind you laughed loudly with a growing smirk present on his face.

"Let her go, now" Changbin growled, eyes darkening.

That fueled the laugh even more. "Why should I? You can't shoot me now. Not when you don't want to hurt her"

Changbin lowered his gun, smirking. "You're right. I can't shoot you. But my boys" A shot ringed out before the man could react. The bullet found its mark and his rival crumpled to the ground, the knive fell clashing to the ground in front of you. The shot was precise, executed by Seungmin, his best sniper, who sat on the upper floor, shooting through the hole when the time was right.

Chaos erupted as the rest of his enemies' men opened fire. Chan, Felix and the rest of his men who had invaded the warehouse responded immediatly, a violent dance of bullets and blood. Changbin moved with lethal precision, his only thought was to reach you.

Finally, he was beside you, cutting through the ropes to free you. You looked up to him, tears of fear rolling down your cheeks but your eyes were filled with relief.

"You came for me" you whispered as he ripped some fabric from his shirt, pressing it gently on the wound of your neck to stop it from bleeding.

"Always", he replied, pulling you into his arms. "I will always come for you"

The gunfire had ceased, the rivals either dead or fleeing. Chan approached, completely drenched in blood but with a kind smile on his face.

"Let's get out of here" he said and Changbin nodded, helping you on your feet. You leaned on him, your body trembling from the ordeal. Tenderly, he slipped out of his jacket and placed it around your shoulders. He guided you out of the warehouse, his arms protectively wrapped around you.

As they stepped into the cool air of the night, Chandbin knew that he needed to find all of his enemies' men and there would be retaliation. But that was a task for the future. For now, you were save and that was all that mattered.

You drove back to Changbin's estate in complete silence. You were sitting on his lap, your head leaned on his shoulder, exhaustion overtaking you. He held you close, his mind already planning the retribution that would come. No one threatened what was his and lived to tell the tale.

When you arrived, he carried you inside, laying you gently on the bed. With sleepy eyes, you looked up at him with a softness.

"Than you" you whispered softly.

Changbin brushed a strand of hair from your face, his expression tender.

"I will always protect you, Y/n. No matter what"

You smiled, a small, tired smile, and closed your eyes, finally allowing yourself to rest with the knowledge that your beloved will protect and watch over you. Changbin sat beside you, holding your hands in his. The storm inside him was far from over but for tonight, he was at peace. He had you back and nothing in the whole world mattered more than that.

[marvelfanfn2187a113]

Bullies

Dean Winchester x little sister!reader, slight Sam Winchester x little sister!reader

Requested by Anonymous

Synopsis: your big brothers are there to pick up the pieces after bullies come after you.

New schools were hard, and usually you dreaded walking into one. Not today, though. Today you were excited.

Why the change?

Well, this time, you were going to be able to stay at the school, maybe even for the whole year and beyond. Your brothers and you had moved into the Man of Letters bunker, and it seemed like you were there to stay. That meant no switching schools every few weeks. You would actually be able to make friends and keep them. You’d get a life here, you had a home now.

Needless to say, you were on cloud nine.

You didn’t know then, but you were about to be knocked off it.

…

In your anxious/excited hurry to get to your class on time, you weren’t paying as much attention as you should have been to where you were going, and in your rush your shoulder jostled a large boy at least two grades older than you.

“Oh, sorry,” you called over your shoulder, too intent on your forward motion to bother stopping.

“Hey!” You felt a large, meaty hand grip your shoulder and before you knew what was happening you were thrown back into the row of hard metal lockers.

You gasped in surprise, looking up to see the boy sneering at you.

“How about you watch where you’re going?”

Your good mood deflated a little in your annoyance.

“I apologized, there’s no need to get pushy,” you tried to walk away from him, but he wasn’t having it. He shoved you back against the lockers, and you winced when your head hit the cool metal.

“How about you show some respect here, you runt,” he growled.

“Who do you think you are?” You scoffed. This mouth breather had no right to go around demanding respect from his peers.

“What did you say to me?” You were shocked to feel your feet rise off the ground as the guy lifted you by your collar. “I’m the guy who can make your life a living nightmare, that’s who. I run this school, runt, and you’d do well to remember that. You’re just some new brat, you got no power here, understand?”

You stayed defiantly silent, lifting your chin and barely resisting the urge to spit in his face.

He raised one meaty hand, and before you knew what was happening you heard a harsh slap, followed by a ringing in your ears. Your cheek stung where the guy had slapped you, and you were dazed for a moment.

“I asked you a question, runt,” he pulled you away from the lockers only to slam you against them again. You were just starting to think that maybe you should give up your “normal” facade, and show this guy how a Winchester fights, when you noticed a whole group of boys, just as big and brawny, if not more. They were right behind the guy, and they all wore identical jerseys.

The football team.

Of all the douchebags you could’ve pissed off at this school, you had to get the guy who had the whole football team at his back.

“I understand,” you mumbled.

Your cheek burned when he slapped you again.

“What was that, runt? Speak up!”

“I said I understand!”

The pressure at your collar disappeared, and you dropped to the ground. You were just turning to go when your books were slammed out of your hands by one of the boy’s friends.

You know those scenes in movies where the bullies walk away, and some mysterious new friend helps the victim pick up their books?

Yeah, that didn’t happen.

Instead, the bullies lingered, and you felt your face burn hot with shame as a few of them laughed as you knelt to pick up your books. They got bored after a moment or two, and one of them even kicked the side of your head as they walked past you, still laughing.

Your hands were shaking, and you sucked in a breath when you saw a few tears drip onto your fallen books. You gathered your stuff quickly and rushed to your classroom, and your heart sank when you saw that all the back row seats were taken. You desperately needed to find a corner to hide in, but it was impossible.

You settled your stuff in the middle of the front row and ducked your head down, determined to stay below the radar for the rest of the day.

“Hello class,” the middle aged male teacher greeted, and he was rewarded with a few mumbled responses. Unperturbed, he continued. “We have a new student today. Y/N Winchester, would you like to share a bit about yourself?”

Crap.

Without another option, you rose unsteadily to your feet, keeping your head ducked low just in case your beating had left marks on your face.

“I-I…um…” you fumbled for the right words. In the melee of the past few minutes, you had forgotten the speech you had rehearsed just in case this moment came. You couldn’t exactly tell your life story, at least not most of it. “My-my name is Y/N.”

Come on, say more!

You were thrown off even more when you heard a couple of students giggle as the teacher said-

“Yes, yes we know. Anything else?”

“I-um…I live with my brothers,” you took a deep breath, fishing for anything else to say. “We moved around a lot, but we-we’re here now.” You cringed inwardly. Of course you were here now, they knew that!

“Alright, well we’re glad to have you,” you were relieved at his clear invitation to sit back down, and you took it without hesitation. The rest of class, and even the next few classes, passed without incident.

The day could not continue that way, unfortunately.

Came lunch time, the guy—Brock, you learned was his name (how cliche)—returned to torment you, and he’d brought four buddies with him. Thankfully, he didn’t hurt you this time, but he did steal the few dollars you’d brought to buy lunch.

You didn’t doubt that you could’ve stopped him, you probably could’ve taken out one or two of his friends with him, but not the whole group. So, you let him walk away, your money clutched triumphantly in his massive fist.

You thought about going to the lunchroom, but the idea of wandering around with no food and no friends to sit with was too exhausting to even think about, so instead you found an empty classroom and worked on homework until the bell rang.

You ended the school day exhausted, hungry, and completely defeated. If this was how the first day went, how would the rest of the year be? Just more of the same torment? You couldn’t imagine a silver lining to this, and the constant thrumming in your head was a constant reminder of how the bullies weren’t afraid of the consequences of physically hurting you.

The moment the last bell rang, you snatched up your bag and made a beeline for the parking lot. You figured the team must be busy with football practice or something, because you didn’t run into them in the hallways on the way out.

Dean was already waiting in the Impala when you arrived, a big grin on his face as he waved casually at you.

You ignored his greeting, sliding into the passengers seat and closing the door, making sure to keep your head down and facing the window.

“Was the first day ok?” He asked, not yet noticing your mood.

You simply nodded. You were pretty sure you hadn’t spoken a word since this morning, and you were too exhausted to speak now.

Dean finally noticed your silence.

“Cat got your tongue?”

At your shrug, he frowned.

“Kid come on, what’s up?”

You continued to stare in silence out the window, biting your tongue so hard that you tasted blood. You knew that if you tried to talk, you would cry. The best you could hope for would be to keep the tears at bay until you could hide in your room.

The second the Impala pulled up to the bunker, you rushed out, not looking back as you made your way to your room. When you got there, after brushing past a confused Sam, you locked your door and tossed your backpack on the floor, heading straight for your bed where you pulled your pillow to your chest and finally let your tears fall.

Once you started, you found it almost impossible to stop, and before you knew it you were finding it hard to breathe as you choked on your sobs.

…

“Where’d she go?” Dean asked as he stepped into the bunker. Sam, still confused, gestured to your room.

“She just ran right in there, didn’t say anything. Do you know what’s up?”

Dean shook his head, frustrated.

“She didn’t say a word the whole ride home, I don’t know what happened.”

“Should we…” Sam glanced at your locked door.

“Worth a shot I guess,” Dean stepped up to your door, knocking gently. “Sweetheart? Hey, can you let me in?”

It was silent for a long moment.

Dean frowned, “Kid, if you don’t answer me I’m gonna think something’s wrong, and I will pick this lock.”

Nothing.

“Wait, do you hear that?” Sam leaned closer to the door, and Dean followed his lead.

“Is she crying?” Dean whispered, not that he had to ask. The sound coming from your room was self explanatory.

“That’s it,” Dean said, pulling out his lock pick kit and going to work on the lock. Sam grabbed his arm.

“Are you sure-“

“She hasn’t said a single word, Sam. I think it’s about time we find out what’s-“ the click of the lock silenced them both.

“Honey, last chance. I’m coming in.”

Silence.

“Ok,” Dean sighed, and eased your door open.

The sight in front of them broke the brothers’ hearts.

Dean was the first to approach you, head buried in your pillow as you struggled to breathe between sobs. When he saw how much you were struggling, he abandoned his slow approach and rushed to your side, pulling your head away from the pillow to give you more room to breathe while his other hand came up to rub your back.

“Baby, you’ve gotta breathe, ok? Just take a deep breath, you can do it.”

Slowly but surely, your sobs subsided, and you were able to take full, deep breaths. Dean was so busy worried about your breathing that it took Sam pointing it out for him to notice the bruise forming on your cheek, and the small cut on your lip.

“Honey who did that?” Dean spoke the words through gritted teeth, and regretted it when he saw you flinch at his sudden change in tone.

“I fell,” you whimpered, burying your head against your pillow again.

“Don’t lie to me,” Dean struggled to control his anger. It wasn’t you he was angry at, after all.

“It doesn’t matter.”

“What? Of course it matters, you-“ Dean broke off when Sam pulled him out of earshot. “What?”

“Look, now’s not the time for an interrogation. We can ask her about that after, but I don’t think this is what she needs now.”

Dean glared at his brother for several seconds, before taking another glance at you and relenting. You looked exhausted, and this conversation could wait. For now.

“Fine, but-“

Dean stopped again when he heard your stomach give an angry grumble. He returned his attention to you, coming to stand by the side of your bed.

“Honey, did you eat today?”

You shook your head, and it took all of Dean’s restraint to keep from asking questions about that.

“Sam, can you…”

Sam just nodded and walked away to find you some food. As soon as he was gone, Dean climbed up on your bed next to you and pulled you into his arms.

He was relieved to feel you finally relax, releasing your tension and sinking completely into his embrace.

“Not a great first day, huh?” He said quietly.

“No,” he could hear the way your throat caught, and you hiccuped as a few more tears slid out, wetting his shirt.

“I’m sorry, baby,” he started to rock gently back and forth, and was rewarded by you burrowing further into his chest. He cradled the back of your head with one hand, rubbing circles along your back with the other.

“How about we just stay right here tonight, ok? Sam can bring us some ice cream, and you can pick out a movie. How’s that sound?”

He felt you moving around in his arms, and he smiled as one of your hands shot out and grabbed a book by your nightstand.

“Can you read this to me?”

Dean hesitantly picked up the book. He wasn’t big on reading, and he wasn’t sure if he was the best narrator, but if that’s what you wanted…

“Yeah, of course baby,” he settled back against the headrest, and you positioned yourself on top of his chest and closed your eyes.

“Hey, honey?”

You hummed.

“Will you please tell me everything that happened today, later?”

Your eyes popped open, and you stared at him for a long moment before slowly nodding.

“Later,” you promised quietly, and he smiled.

“Thank you, baby. You know I’m only asking because I wanna help, right?”

You nodded again, and settled back down, staring expectantly at the book.

Dean wrapped his arm around you and began to read.

When Sam returned a while later with food, he found the two of you fast asleep, your book resting on Dean’s chest as it slowly rose and fell, his breathing in sync with yours.

[fernandopiastri28]

don’t be jealous ~ oscarmark

little ficlet for no other reason then that i’m bored

Possessive Mark wants his protege all to himself

wc: 1.1k || cw: feminisation, age gap, power imbalance

Mark shouldn’t care, and if he’s completely honest, it’s really disturbing that he does.

He’s a 47 year old man- he shouldn’t care about a 23 year old in the way Mark does, specifically the one he’s the manager of.

Oscar’s barely a kid, one with a voice that’s only just dropped and who can barely grow facial hair beyond a few stray bits of golden brown hair along his chin.

There’s something very interesting about Oscar, his pure intelligence and raw talent. He’s a smart kid, perfectly competent and easy to take care of. He hardly feels like someone Mark needs to micromanage or guide, rather someone he can work alongside.

That’s what makes it so difficult, because Oscar isn’t that. He is someone that Mark is supposed to look after and help out, not someone who he should be drinking beer after beer to ignore the fact that Oscar’s paying too much attention to Lando Norris.

Lando, unlike Oscar, is quite a pain. Despite being in his 6th year of F1, he’s immature, uncalculated, and a poor presenter of himself.

Mark reckons Oscar was much better suited as teammates with someone like Robert, who had a good head on his shoulders, or even Fred, who was capable and determined.

But Lando? Lando makes Mark’s blood boil. His arrogance, whininess, lack of self awareness- he’s a fucking Sebastian Vettel reincarnate, just without the world championships to justify it.

Mark needs to get Oscar out of there, fucking get him away from the influence of Lando. The two boys already hang out enough as it is in the paddock, occasionally on the weekends.

Mark needs to come up with something that will ensure he gets to have more time with Oscar. Oscar’s is his, he has been ever since he signed that contract back 2020.

Four years ago, Oscar had been a 19 year old with close cropped hair, perfectly crooked teeth, a slightly higher pitched voice, a boyish sense of eternal youth and big dreams and aspirations for the future.

He’d just been a kid back then, boneless and malleable for Mark to shape into the world champion he’d never quite gotten to be.

Yet, in 2024, Oscar was a man. Broad shoulders, thick neck, defined muscles, undeniable talent. He simply oozed silent confidence and sensibility.

Oscar was possibly the most impressive young man that Mark had ever encountered. Yet, Mark knew Oscar could still be better, he still could improve.

Mark narrows his eyes, watching across the large event room, scattered with all different F1 personnel and sponsor teams, yet Oscar stands out like a sore thumb. He doesn’t deserve to be stuck at such a mundane and unrewarding dinner ‘party’ like this.

He also doesn’t deserve the obvious way that Lando preyed on Oscar’s politeness. After Lando cracked what seemed like the thousandth joke that night that Oscar seemed to double over in laughter over, Mark stood up, walking away from his table towards the teammates.

“Oscar,” His voice was soft, endearing. “Lando,” Sharper, bitter. Mark didn’t bother to put on a kind facade for the brit, nor did he look at him.

“Hey Mark,” Oscar turned to look at him, bright eyes and a slurred voice. Oscar’s lips were pink and puffy, shiny from spit and wine.

Tipsy Oscar was a sight for sore eyes, that was for sure. “Enjoying yourselves?” The question clearly directed towards the younger Australian.

He swears he watches Oscar’s cheeks turn pink when Mark stares at his pretty lips. “Yeah,” Oscar’s voice is quiet, girly in a way.

Oscar is a bit like a girl anyways. Beyond the short hair, broad figure and, well, the obvious boy feature of his crotch- he’s got naturally peachy and full lips, long curly lashes, thick muscular thighs, pecs that basically look like breasts.

Mark feels shameful that he notices those things so intensely, and even more ashamed that he’s so into it. “Barely seen you tonight, y’been hiding away?” Oscar asks, his voice breathy.

Mark laughs, and Lando does too, and then it’s not that funny to Mark. He wishes Lando would just leave, go talk to Zac or something. “Lando,” Mark turns to him, no shame in what he’s about to say. “I think Jenson mentioned something to me about wanting to talk to you about something the other day. He’s over there if you’re interested,” He’s vague, pointing across the room to where he’s pretty sure Jenson isn’t.

It’s not a lie, Jenson had mentioned Lando once in a passing comment a few weeks prior. He hopes Jenson will find something to talk to Lando about if the younger brit finds him. “Oh, thanks Mark,” His eyebrows flicker upwards as he stands up, walking straight off without another word.

Mark turns his attention back to Oscar who instead of watching Lando as he walks away, just stares at Mark. “What’s up, kid?”

Oscar gets all bashful, red down to where his shirt collar squeezes around his thick neck, probably even to where the white fabric pulls taut across his chest.

“Drinking,” His voice disappears into his wine glass, forcibly quiet. He’s so shy and blushy being around Mark.

“I know that,” Mark smiles, rather beguiling to be fair. “What else though? You seem a bit.. on edge,” He likes taunting Oscar like this, watching him squirm in his seat.

“ ‘m not on edge,” He looks up, his eyes meeting Mark’s from where they’ve been wandering just about anywhere else. Splodges of heat appear on the boy’s face, like he’s about to break down in a nervous panic.

God, Mark feels so awful. He just wants to make Oscar happy and warm inside, not scared. He takes the seat that Lando had previously been in, intentionally moving it so that one of his knees slots in between Oscar’s legs. “Are you sure, Oscar?” A hand rests on the back of Oscar’s seat and he can feel the heat radiating off Oscar’s neck.

Oscar bites his bottom lip, adorable bunny teeth hooked over glossy, girly lips. “I- I,” He stammers, trying to find his way out of this.

Oscar. Nonchalant Oscar. Future World champion Oscar. Unaffected Oscar. Emotionless Oscar.

Oscar who’s completely whipped for his manager. “Please help me, Mark,” His voice is whiny, like Lando’s always is, but not annoying at all. It’s so cute- desperate.

His voice is like honey, thick and sickeningly sweet. Mark’s been addicted to it for years. Mark looks down at Oscar’s lap where his suit trousers are tented.

Holy shit, Mark’s got himself in such a bad position right now.

ft. what Oscar & Mark are wearing AND literally the trio dynamic :p