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heyheyloki · 4 years ago

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All Because Of You

Summary: The reader goes to find Castiel before the angels get to him.

Castiel x M!Reader

Castiel being human, losing his grace, was perhaps one of the most interesting yet hardest thing you had faced yet. Forget God. Forget Lucifer. Castiel human topped all of those for a simple reason. Now, it was incredibly hard to keep down your own human feelings that had stirred up for him a long time ago, and plus, yanno, all the Angels and Demons on the hunt for this one Angel who rebelled against Heaven and all that.

It's been a few days since you left the bunker to go look for Castiel. Sure, Dean and Sam weren't happy, but you knew you couldn't wait any longer for them. It's been weeks since Castiel went on the run and sitting around doing nothing but worrying about him was not good for your mind. You needed to see him, protect him, and make sure he was safe and by your side.

It took a three days to get to Detroit, the last place anyone saw Castiel or 'Clarence', as he called himself. You got the led from a group of homeless individuals that talked to Cas before he picked up a ride in on a truck that was heading to Detroit. This was probably the hardest part of the search. Lucky for you, growing up with the Winchester boys helped when it came to this kind of situation. Still, with all your skills, it was Detriot. A large city with many people, but the people may be your advantage.

"Excuse me," you hummed out to a man who was currently making burgers on the side of the road. The only thing that led you talking to him was Castiel's vessals love for red meat. Now that he was human, Jimmy was probably talking to him a lot more now. "Have you seen a dark haired, blue hair man around here? He would have probably acted a bit out of it?"

"Uh," the man thought for a moment. "Nah, sorry, no one really comes to mind."

"It's alright, thank you." You sighed, parting from the man and getting back on the move.

You took the rest of the day nonstop looking for Castiel with no leads whatsoever. Person after person either said they didn't remember someone like that, or saw so many people that day that it was impossible to even try to remember one man. This race against the clock was getting harder and harder, and frankly, it was getting irritating. All you wished for was Castiel to be safe. He could be hungry, or homeless--but safe was all you wanted cause in the end you knew you could fix both of this issues--all of his issues-- if you just found him.

As you were deep within your mind to try and make up a new way to find the fallen angel, the rain that touched your skin shoved you back into reality. Your eyes gazed as the raindrops that wet your skin before looking up at the dark clouds that surrounded you. A deep sigh filled with worry released from your lips before taking a few steps forwards. Perhaps those few steps were all you needed. Well, that and the rain. When you took those steps you heard a noise, one that would capture almost anyone’s attention. You paused, stood still before turning your head down an ally that seemed to be behind a restaurant.

Down the dark and rainy ally was a man who wrapped himself with this black hoodie he wore. His hair was soaked, not to mention his clothes, but that freezing cold look in his eyes broke your heart beyond anything you've felt before. The darkness obscured the man's face until you took a few steps down the ally. At first you were going to offer the man some food and direct him to a nearby shelter, but the minute he quickly shot his head up to see who was approaching him, everything changed. No matter how much time apart you have from him, you can never forget his face but you noticed that the first thing to go about a person was their voice. You thought that was the saddest thing to ever exist but when you heard it call out to you of all people, remembering his voice again was like seeing him for the first time all over again.

"[Name]?" Castiel croaked out.

You didn't speak but instead nodded to confirm it was you, and not a part of his imagination.

With the weather, you didn't waste any time to get both Castiel and you some shelter. A few minutes of pretending to be someone else and using another's money got you a relatively small but sufficient apartment for the time being.

When Castiel entered the apartment was dark given the time of day, but you quickly turned on the lights after you shut and locked the front door.

"Wow, it’s beautiful." Castiel commented as he looked around.

"It's an apartment that cost a 2,000 dollar deposit, it better be beautiful." You replied as you began to lock and shut all the entrances which included the windows as well.

Castiel kept his eyes on you as you did so, but when he noticed you were finished with your task he asked, "How did you find me?"

You turned to him and placed your hands into your pockets. "Oh, yanno, all my hunter skills went into work and here I am."

"Why aren't Sam and Dean with you?" He asked curiously.

You sighed at the question before taking a seat on the sofa that was provided with the apartment. "I didn't want to wait around. They thought it was dangerous, and it probably was but I don't know, I just couldn't stand being in that bunker wondering if you’re alive or dead."

Castiel's head went down for a moment, his own human mind now spinning with thoughts he wondered if he would ever have if he was still an angel.

"I apologize for worrying you." He suddenly said in more quiet tone. "That was never my intention."

"I know." You smiled before patting down the space next to you. "Come sit and lemme see what you got there."

Castiel's head went on a tilt before he remembered the wound he had on his left upper arm he got from fighting one of the many angels that were out on the hunt for him. The former angel complied with the request, mostly because of his trust and fondness of you.

When he sat down, you turned towards him and began to unbutton his white shirt after he took off the soaked hoodie. Castiel watched your attentively as you did so. The way your hands played with his shirt and the focus that was seeped deep into your eyes as you did so. Once his shirt was open, you gazed back up and into his eyes. He watched a faint smile, a comforting one, stretched across your lips before slipping the shirt off his shoulders and exposing his entire upper body.

Your eyes shot to the bloody rage he used around his arm, mostly just to stop the bleeding. Worry of an infection took place in your mind, but luckily that didn't seem to be the case.

"Look at you," you whispered. The words catching Castiel's attention quicker than ever before. "You're lucky this isn't infected."

"I suppose so." He replied under his breath as he continued to watch you, never once looking away.

You hovered your finger over the wound that was slanted across his bicep. The fact that it hadn't healed wedging itself into your mind making you say, "You really are human."

"Yes." Castiel said. "The whole experience has been very tiring."

You laughed at that, the chuckle that came from your chest making the former angel experience something that he hasn't before. Sure, he got chills from the cold or rain, but never from a simple laugh.

Next, you began to examine the wound. Overall, it seemed to be healing fine but you really wanted to clean up the dried blood that pooled around the actual cut. So, you grabbed a cotton pad and dabbed some rubbing alcohol on the surface.

"This may sting a bit," you warned Cas before gently patting it against the wound. You watched his face scrunch up a bit as he got used to the stinging sensation. Though, in the end it seemed like he took the pain rather well.

You smiled as you placed the pad on the table next you, your hands picking up some proper bandages before commenting, "You took that better than Dean. You getting used to being human?"

"Ah, it's all new to me. Hunger. Cold." He explained, his eyes meeting yours as he said, "This feeling of being alone."

You stared at Cas for a moment. Yes, he was still the same, and yet so much about him was different. He was learning how to understand human emotions, and after all this time it just took being human to truly get it. To you, it explained how truly complex human emotions were. Something about this Cas pained you in more than words could explain, and for some reason the desire to comfort him was absolutely overwhelming.

"You aren’t alone anymore." You said. Your mind focusing on one action, and one alone. You knew it would disappear until you acted on it, so, you carefully leaned in and gave the man a gentle kiss upon his cheek. The stubble he grew while away tickling your skin. When you backed up, you gave a kind smile and said, "I won't let you be alone, I promise."

Castiel remained silent, yet his eyes remained connected with yours until something clicked in his mind and they darted right down to your soft, vulnerable lips. He would be lying if he said he never studied them before, but right now the urge he wanted to act on for so long was stronger than ever. When he noticed you doing the same, something snapped. Castiel didn't waste any time to lean in and connect his lips with yours. At first, something told him not to rush or else you'd get scared away. So, he waited for you to make the next move and when he felt your lips sensually move against his, his next move was to do the same. At first, he really had no idea how to go about kissing and all he wanted to do was to impress you in the best way he could. So, he mimicked you, but if you had your eyes open and noticed his furrowed brows, you would instinctively tell he had absolutely no idea what was going on. All he knew was that with you, it felt better than he could have ever imagined.

Exploring your body was perhaps one of the best things he had gotten to experience as a human. Everything was so overwhelming in a way that he never would have dreamed. Though, perhaps the best thing about the entire thing was that it was with you. The way your squirmed underneath him, the sounds you made when he pleasured you, not to mention the way you made him feel was something he wouldn't trade up for the world to the point where he felt almost saddened when his body tired out on you.

Both of you laid on your backs, the sheets covering up to your abdomens, with this dazed looks in your eyes. Still, with that look something in your human mind wanted him to say something. Say anything.

You turned your head to him, his gaze still aimed up. "Well? Say something."

Castiel took in a deep breath, his eyes darting around as you noticed him try to think of something until he said, "There aren't words."

You stared at him before turning on your side, your body still facing him. "So, it was okay?"

This was the time Castiel turned to make eye contact with you. His injured arm raised, the palm of his hand against the back of his head. He stared at you for a moment before saying with a small smile, "Very much so."

You smiled a bit to yourself until you noticed his face go from happy to concerned, which prompted you to get a bit more serious for him. After all, you didn't want to make him feel embarrassed.

"Um.." he mumbled out. His eyes darting down and up again in a nervous fashion as he asked, "What I did, that was, uh.. correct?"

You couldn't help a large smile to snake itself across your lips as you nodded with a soft, "Very much so."

"Good," he said with a look that mirrored yours. And the smile he shined was almost designed to make you even more infatuated with him. And that laugh after--God that laugh--hearing it was everything to you.

You stared at him for a moment before calling his name. His head turning to you as your prompted yourself up and into his chest. He couldn't exactly make eye contact with you, but just having you right next to him, especially in this state, was more than he could ask for.

"Before, my promise? I'd like to add on to it." You suddenly said. The words confusing Castiel greatly, after all, the promise you made to him before was like music to his ears. What more could you say that could make him even more of a fool for a human like you?

"You don't have to." Cas said.

"But I want to." You cut him off and took a deep breath. You turned your head a bit, snuggling into him more and giving him a soft, loving kiss on his chest before saying, "I promise to protect you. To the end of the line because you mean more than family to me."

Castiel didn't waste anytime to take his arm around you, holding you closer if that was even possible. The words you spoke probably meant more to him than anything he's heard in his life. After all, with you, it was like you changed him from the inside out in ways that he never even imagined when he first met you.

"I promise as well, [Name]."

#castiel #castiel x reader #castiel x male reader #supernatural #supernatural fanfiction #supernatural male reader #castiel fluff #castiel fic #spn fanfiction

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kaeyasaki · 4 years ago

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— ❝ MISCOMMUNICATE! ❞

— LEORIO PARADINIGHT X GN!READER :; NSFW

❝ skirt off, fuck in the backseat, take that shirt off, baby, put it on me, got me like “yeehaw”, ride it like a horsey, kinda like see-saw up and down on the d ❞

warnings :; unprotected sex, dirty talk, sub!reader, slapping, fingering + degradation -> +4K words

an :; hello hi i don’t know why the fuck i’m actually writing for leorio because i don’t fw him at all, but we checked and the leorio nsfw tag is literally dry and i felt bad for leorio stans so consider this my one time gift for leorio because this will never happen again LOL — NOT PROOFREAD I’LL GAG IF I DO SO

Leorio is a man of tolerance and he’s rather neutral in the sense of liking and disliking things. Of course, he’s open about things that bother him, but he’d rather resolve issues than allow them to stew and worsen over time.

One thing he didn’t like and couldn’t solve however was you.

Leorio couldn't stand you. You were always outdoing him in every test or exam your class took and it was even worse when the professor had insisted upon seating the two of you together in order to ‘keep up’ with one another as the pair of you were far ahead of the rest of the class.

Attending med-school was already stressful enough on its own, but Leorio was certain that being seated next to you only caused that stress to multiply by ten each class he attended. Still, he refused to let you get the better of him after all, your finals were fast approaching and that’s exactly when he’d shut you up for good.

“Leorio!~” He cringed at the sickenly sarcastic tone of your voice from behind him as he walked through the classroom doors. “What?” His tone is sharp as he has no means to entertain you in the slightest, only replying out of common courtesy.

“Why so uptight? Can’t I just say hi to the second best in class?” You hummed, teasing grin tugging at your lips as he scoffs at your comment. “Second best?” He repeats, eyebrows raised and brows twitching. “Second best.” You nodded, a provocative glint in your eyes as you were left satisfied with irritating him before class.

One thing you had learnt about Leorio during the months you’d spent sharing your classes with him, was that once agitated, he had a hard time concentrating. He was easy. Too easy in fact. Every lesson you played the boy like an instrument, pulling all the right strings for all the right reactions out of him.

You weren’t certain as to what it was about him that drew you in to provoke him at every opportunity, but you were certain that every opportunity taken would leave you satisfied. Perhaps it was his desperation that kept you hooked onto him. His constant need to beat you and gloat anytime he could. It was cute almost. But despite his somewhat annoying nature in that sense, you’d be a liar if you were to say you found him unattractive.

You weren’t stupid. Whether he was aware of it or not, Leorio was more than pleasing to look at. His broad shoulders forcing the threats of his crisp white shirt to hang on by thread. His torso was slim but certainly defined as you’d caught yourself eyeing the clearly chiseled muscles which would sometimes be left exposed through the thin white material on particularly hot days. You already loved the summer months, and Leorio’s appearance only becoming more obvious to the eye due to the lack of clothing he’d wear in the warmer weather only added a reason to your list of things to love about summer.

Class was boring to say the least. Your professor's voice drowned out completely as the sun peaked in height and forced waves of heat through the glass windows. You sighed and laid your head down on the desk, eyes catching sight of Leorio scribbling down whatever the professor was droning on about. You’d never paid much attention to the boy other than when it came to annoying him and stealing glances at his handsome form. You knew he worked hard but not to the point where you knew how hard. A small smile had formed on your face as you spent the rest of the class peacefully watching your rival take down all the relevant notes, completely uncaring to the fact you had done nothing productive in class yourself.

“Good work today.” Your voice rang through his ears as the two of you packed up. “Me?” he questioned, puzzled expression wiped across his face as you giggled. “Who else?” He shot you a confused scowl before packing up the rest of his things. While you had attempted to compliment him, he had taken it as mockery. The fact you knew finals were approaching but you still gave no effort to revision in class seemed taunting to him. Were you mocking him for having to try hard? Did the whole course just come naturally to you? Leorio didn’t even want to bother finding out. As far as he was concerned he was in med-school for his own reasons and them alone. He hadn’t the time to fool around with pretty things like you, especially not now. You’d only slow him down whether that was your intent or not. He couldn’t afford to lose sight of what he’d been striving for since the start.

“Whatever.” He huffed refusing to take anymore of your constant bothering. He slung his briefcase off the desk and began to head towards the door where the rest of the students were filtering out before you called out.

“Wait!” He halted his steps, body slowly turning to face you as you stood still behind your seat he’d just left you at. “I… I didn’t get the rest of the notes from today, could I get them off of you later?”

Leorio was a little taken aback, but yet he couldn’t see or sense any signs of mockery from you as your earnest eyes held contact with his. “Fine. You know where I’ll be.” He gave in sighing before turning back around and waving you off before exiting. Previous annoyance distinguishing just slightly. He hadn’t a clue what your intentions were, but he could distinguish between the real and the fake, and nothing about the way you looked at him and almost pleaded seemed ingenuine to him.

Leorio was certain he hated you, yet he couldn’t bring himself to deny you either. Walking back to his apartment, he thought back to times where you’d interacted. Majority of them being times you’d gone out of your way to get a rise out of him, but there was something endearing about the way you did it. Leorio felt almost special that you’d pay him and only him attention. Thinking back to it, you’d never bother anyone else, your sole attention aimed directly towards him and him alone. Leorio wasn’t sure if he was allowed to be special, but as any young man would, he did feel a sense of pride over the fact he’d somehow caught the attention of someone like yourself; someone as pretty as yourself. It didn’t matter to him that it wasn’t the typical type of attention a man of his age would prefer to enjoy, but nonetheless he enjoyed the jealous stares of others as you openly teased him and arguably borderline flirted.

Refusing to give into you completely though, Leorio swore he’d keep these thoughts to himself. Admitting how desirable he found you would be stupid on his end. You’d only make matters worse for him, tease him louder in class and gain a dreadful type of attention from others towards the two of you. He found you attractive, but not to the degree where he’d be willing to make a fool out of himself in front of anyone including yourself. It was best to keep you just at arms length and put up with this childish rivalry until you’d graduate and part ways.

A few hours had passed until you had rung up his apartment to be allowed in. Permitting your entrance, Leorio tapped his foot nervously as you made your way up the complex, notes on the coffee table nearby ready for you to borrow and leave. Opening the door upon your knocking, his face warmed at the sight of you dressed down a little more.

The pretty skirt you were wearing short enough to leave little to the imagination as to what was underneath. The cute top you were wearing clung to your figure and hugged all the right places. The only thing covering your modesty was the oversized jacket you’d left hanging off your shoulders so it technically had no other purpose than a poor attempt at covering yourself.

You smirked as you felt your classmate practically eye-fucking you before even entering his apartment. “Your notes.” you spoke suddenly catching him off guard. He sputtered a few times before straightening his stance and inviting you in, a string of incoherent mumbling leaving his lips as he remained flustered due to you catching him in the act of staring. You could only laugh lightly before sashaying in, the clean apartment scanned by your curious eyes.

“Is this them?” you questioned, fingertips dancing over the paper as Leorio joined you by the coffee table. “Indeed they are. Feel free to copy them I-”

“Is that it?” You cut in, flipping the sheets over to see if he’d written more on the other side of the paper. You could've sworn he’d written more, but supposing from the position you’d been watching him in class in, you'dn't hadn’t been able to tell just how much he was writing.

“It’s more than what you’ve done.” He retorted, nerves already stricken. “True,” You mused as you invited yourself to sit on his couch. “But I would’ve expected more from you.”

“Weren’t you just praising me for my work in class?” He huffed, tips of his ears warming up from agitation. “Yeah, I thought you’d generally worked hard though, I didn’t know you’d done so little though.” Sighing, you read over his pristine notes and decided the information was somewhat useful though. “I’ve done so little? Sorry not all of us are naturally gifted and don’t have to work for our grades!” Leorio snapped, temper teetering nearer the edge with each passing second. “Naturally gifted? I do more than enough work thank you!” You hissed back, sharp edge to your voice as you took slight offence to his claim. “Maybe you’d notice if you weren’t so busy staring at my tits in class all the time!”

Leorio was shocked. You’d noticed that? He thought for sure he was less than obvious but sometimes he’d have to admit he’d lose self control and shamelessly stare. You’d never say anything or react though, so he just assumed you hadn’t noticed. That didn’t matter though, because while he’d hold his hands up in guilt for staring at you, he’d caught you on more than a few occasions staring at his arms and then let your eyes trail down below towards his belt. He never said anything though, certain it’d cause him more of a headache than anything.

“Rich coming from you.” He scoffed as you glared right back at him. “With the way you stare at my belt, you would’ve thought the mark schemes written on there.” Heat rushed to both your face and core as his temper triggered something inside of you.

Leorio’s annoyance was nothing new to you, but this bolder and snappier side to him certainly was. It was hot to be blunt and you’d be damned to give up this chance to get rid of the building tension between the two of you.

Months and months of unspoken desires had been piling up between the two of you despite the fact neither of you had openly voiced them. You unknowing acted upon them though, your hungry staring contest in play for as long as you could remember when it came to classes together. You wanted him and the feeling was certainly mutual, but neither of your prides were weak enough to give in; not yet anyway.

The silence was unbearable, your frustrations growing worse by the second until you giggled. His eyes widened at the sudden sounds of your ringing laugher as you smirked up at him. “Fine then, just admit it, you wanna fuck me as bad as I want you to.”

Leorio’s face twisted in disgust, a mask to wear while he thought of a reply. Of course he did. He couldn't count the amount of times he’d taken care of his own frustrations at night imagining it was your throat around his length rather than his hand. He wouldn’t tell you that though. Not just yet at least.

“You’re disgusting.” Yet he doesn’t move when you press your chest up against his, arms looping around his torso battering your eyelashes up at him. His eyes are heavy with a mix of lust and neediness and sharply fixated on you, awaiting your next move. You almost laugh at his pathetic attempt to deny you, afterall you could easily ridicule Leorio to nothing more than a horny young man which was exactly what he was. He might've been a respectful student and aspiring doctor to the eyes of your classmates, but you knew from the start he’d be down bad for anyone willing to offer just the slightest ounce of attention to. He was just too easy. That’s what you had concluded anyway.

“Why haven’t you kicked me out yet then?” You questioned, index finger trailing up his chest as you cupped his cheek, taunting eyes gazing up at his panicking expression. “You could’ve easily given me your notes and hurried me away, but you didn’t, this is what you wanted isn’t it?”

“N-no.” Leorio choked out, flustered state worsening by the second. You were right, he did want this, but if he was going to do this, there was no way he was letting you take charge. Your presence was already dominating enough in the classroom, but you were in his territory now.

“So I’m wrong?” your finger trailed up to his face to cup his cheek as your taunting eyes flickered up towards him.

Tension and patience finally snapped, Leorio grabs your wrist and pulls it away from his face, his own hands reaching up to hold your neck and pull you in. “Just shut up already.”

He’s kissing you. Just like that. His lips are warm and the kiss is a little messy, but you expected this from the start. Both of you are too desperate to care at this point. You’re sure he’s bruising your lips at this point, he’s kissing you like he can’t take it much longer. All intentions of hiding desperation now forgotten, Leorio forces you to see just how badly he did in fact want this, despite his previous denial.

Your hands reach up towards the back of his neck, fingertips beginning to entangle with the short roots of his har, pulling him impossibly closer. He obliges, grunting in response and slotting his thigh between your legs as he groans again.

Your frustrations spike once more when you feel his free hand hikes up your skirt, long fingers dragging along your thigh. Tracing the outline of your practically useless panties, Leorio lets his finger wander along your wet slit, arousal already soaking the material through and through and you feel him smirk. “And the audacity to play coy with me, you wanted this that badly slut?”

You can hardly register what he’s saying to you as your only focus as of now is having his fingers somewhere a little better than on the surface of your heat. “Take them off.” He demands, voice stern but smile teasing with hints of pride. Not caring to bicker back, you whine but oblige to his wishes not wanting to wait any longer. “So you can follow orders then? Good to know.” He hums in approval, rewarding you with his middle finger dragging over your clit leaving you squirming in his grip. His thigh still firmly between your thighs, you’re denied of clenching them together. He’s staring at you intensely, eyes fixated on your twisted expressions as he teases your cunt a little more before adding his thumb.

With his middle finger tracing up and down your core and thumb drawing small but firm circles on the top of your clit, your mind goes blank. You’d fingered yourself plenty of times, but not as well as your classmate and biggest rival was doing right now. “Do you know how many times I’ve thought about you at night.” He sighs, demeanour completely unreadable as he almost looks as if he’s pitying you as he gazes down at your struggling face. You shake your head vigorously, wriggling in his hold in attempts for at least a little more friction. “Most nights.” He confesses with no shame as you let out a gasp as he adds another finger. He’s cautious, but obsessed with the way your walls clench down in his fingers, your arousal coating his fingers each time he pulls out. “M-me too.” You blurt out as his wrist snaps a little faster. He hums satisfied, his suspicions confirmed. He picks up the pace a little more; a reward for your honesty.

You sigh out shakily and whisper small chants of his name. The way your squirming against him has him painfully hard as he grows a little desperate himself. He begins to scissor his fingers in hopes of speeding up the process just a little more, because while he’d love to spend all night holding you in his grip, edging you to the point where you’re begging and crying, his own personal will wouldn’t hold that long, and he absolutely needed to be inside you sooner rather than later.

Arching your back slightly, you whine as he slows down taking in your pretty face. “Please just fuck me already.” You complain, eyes clenched shut as Leorio’s fingers continue their slow work. Grunting in response, he tugs his trousers down, his length springing free against your torso. “Shit.” You breathe out looking down at it.

Leorio’s dick isn’t the prettiest you’ve seen, but he’s definitely the most desirable in both girth and length. He was big, but you would guess that from the start when taking his frame into consideration. He had a few veins running down his dick too, and while he wasn’t the thickest you’d seen, the proportions matched well and you were even lucky enough to notice the slight curve which confirmed the fact you know he’d make you feel good.

Leaving you no more time to admire, Leorio pulled away from you to which you whined at the sudden loss of contact. Sitting down on the couch, he looked up at you and patted his thigh as you quickly stumbled over to him, desperation at its limit. Stopping you before you could sit down, Leorio had you over his lap as he lined his dick up to your entrance. “Sit.” he demanded as your mouth dropped open. He expected you to just sit? So casually too? He must’ve been mad. “I was already nice enough to prep you so why am I waiting?” He scolded, lustful eyes piercing through yours. “-ts too big.” You mumbled, head hung low in shame as Leorio tutted.

“It’s not, you’re not even trying to make it fit anyway.” He scoffed, tensions beginning to build up between the two of you again once more. Nodding your head, you shakily sunk down, eyes flying open as tears begin to form in the corners of your eyes. Crying out, Leorio takes a grain of pity on you as he allows you to recollect yourself. “Last chance before I do it myself,” He warns. “I’ve been generous today, inviting you to my home, letting you borrow my notes and then entertaining your needs, give a little back won’t you?”

Your teeth grit as you prepare yourself to attempt once more, but not before getting in one last snarky response. “Wasn’t it you who was eyefucking me as soon as you opened the door? If I didn’t know any better I’d say you wanted this more than me.” A harsh slap is stricken on your ass as you yelp. “Stop being such a brat, especially after you begged me to fuck you.” He hisses, frustration turning his tone almost angry. “You aren’t fucking me!” You cried out, tears of pent up needs becoming too overwhelming. Your fists are clenching the hem of your skirt and tears are streaming down your face as Leorio looks up at you.

His hands move quickly to his hips as you gasp upon the feeling of your body being pulled down. “You want me to fuck you? Fine, have it your way.” His grip on your hips is firm and you know there will be marks left later, but none of that mattered as of now. The only thing you cared about was having Leorio finally claim you as his in ways you’d imagined while pleasuring yourself most nights. Tears continued to drip down your face as you screamed out Leorio’s name as he plunged his entire length inside of your dripping cunt. It was painful, but slowly, your hips began to move on their own grinding up with his assistance until the two of you built a steady pace turning the pain into pleasure sending your head spinning.

Your tits are fully out and exposed by now, your flimsy top hardly stopping them from spilling out as they bounced at the same pace of your thrusts. Leorio’s eyes stayed focused on them for a while. His pupils gazing up and down at the same rhythm of your chest. He’d experienced the wonders of a female body before, the hunter exam he’d taken over a year ago giving him his first taste of what it really felt like to touch a woman, but this was different. This was a more personal experience, and the fact that he was the one making your body react like this only fuelled his movements as well as his pride.

“Shit- you feel so much better than I thought you - fuck - would!” You moan, your hands gripping his shoulders for support as you feel the coil in your stomach tighten. The praise is sent straight down to his groin as his thrusts are a lot deeper now, hitting against your cervix multiple times over as you start to see stars.

You cry out when he finally hits the right spot, your vision going white as your head tilts back, tongue dropping out your mouth. “There!” You sob. “Right there again!”

Seeing no reason to deny you when you’ve done such a good job of taking him so well, Leorio tightens his grip on your sides as drool begins to pool in your mouth. He leans in close and licks a stripe up your neck before taking a nipple into his mouth resulting in a loud moan to leave your lips. He sucks the sensitive bud as his thrusts show no relent, adamant on hitting the same spot as before.

You’re closing in towards the edge, the knot in your stomach unbearably tight as Leorio continues towards his goal of throwing you over the edge. Pulling away from your chest leaving a prominent bite mark from where he’d had his mouth attached to your nipple, he leans back in to gently lick over the mark. The gentle gesture contrasting the hard thrusts of his hips as he continued to assist in the shifting of your weight up and down his length.

A few more thrusts and you’re crying out his name, a thin line of drool streaming from the corner of your mouth as you come hard all over his cock. You’re so caught up in your own high, you miss the way he smirks at you, but with a gentle twinkle in his eyes. You coming undone is easily the prettiest thing he’s ever seen. The way your lashes cast a faint shadow over your cheeks as your head tilts back and your eyes roll to the back of your head.

While Leorio would love to keep you like this, stay inside you with your expression in place and cum dripping down him, he loses his own self control as just the sight of your fucked out face alone is enough to send him off the edge as he follows suit, loud groan as he fills his load into your dripping hole.

The warmth of his seed spreads through your entire body as your hands drop down from off his shoulders and rest of his chest, the two of you left to catch your breath. The two of you stay like that for just a few more moments. The blissful silence proving all tension, pent up frustrations and emotions had been resolved, the air now perfectly clear.

You flutter your eyes open again, your breathing returning to its regulated pace as you return back to reality. Leorio’s still inside you, his sweaty forehead resting against your shoulders, his breathing returns from ragged to regular.

“Shit.” You breathe out, realisation finally sinking into your head.

“Yeah, shit.” He repeats, tone a lot gentler from before as he lifts his head up to look at you. “And to think you only came by to pick up my notes.”

You laugh a little, his comment stirring not irritation, but genuine happiness through your chest as he offered a gentle smile your way.

“Well,” he spoke, as you gazed back into his now endearing eyes. “I suppose it’s too late for you to walk home.” “If I can even walk at all,” You mused. “You were a lot rougher than anticipated”.

He laughs. thumbs drawings gentle circles on your sides over the harsh marks he’d left on your skin from his tight grip. “What sort of business man would I be if I wasn’t just the slightest bit deceiving?” He hummed. “I thought you wanted to be a doctor.” You humoured back, your hands now finding home around the base of his neck.

“I do, that was a joke,” He said, forehead now resting against your own. “But alongside being a doctor, what I really want,” His voice quiet, barely above a whisper as you nod for him to continue. “Is for you to give us a chance rather than fighting it any longer.”

You smiled and pulled away from him. Head nodding firmly as he gently squeezed your sides. Leorio was right, while the two of you may have had your clases from time to time, there was no denying that there was mutual attraction from the start. Something drawing you into him and that same thing refusing to let him leave.

While the two of you had wasted so much time with petty competitions and arguments, you were certain that now you’d communicated properly, things would be smooth sailing for the two of you from here. Although, you thought to yourself, miscommunication had led you to this very situation. So while you nodded your head agreeing to give the two of you a shot, maybe you’d just have to be a little difficult every so often. Just for the sake of reminiscing and no other reason of course.

#bye no because i’m never writing for him again #i hc him as gen musty and just.. sweaty #i had to imagine someone else while i wrote this sobs #l:eorio stans #this is my pity piece to you i’m sorry your tag is so dry #i’m also sorry i lied #your man doesn’t have the dick i described in the fic #but rather a skinny limp one IM SORRY #i also don’t think he cuts his fingernails even though he’s a doctor #maybe he does idc but they just feel.. yuck to me #ALSO HIS BREATH PROBABLY STINKS IM SORRY #okay.. i’ve got that out my system #followers my beloved.. pls forgive me i’m never writing for him again i promise #i swear on it actually #IT WAS HORRIBLE 😰#BUT I HAD TO SAVE THEIR DYING TAG #leorio smut #leorio x reader smut #hxh smut #hxh x reader smut #🗯pussytalks #hxh #hunter x hunter #hxh x reader #hunter x hunter x reader

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the-witches-you-couldnt-burn · 3 years ago

Text

Should have known better

Prompt: when ur reading fanfic and one character was cooking and the other comes up to them and they start making out and everyones like starting to take their shirts off and the author STILL hasnt mentioned anyone turning off the stove

My first attempt at Dickinette. I hope I did it justice!

Here’s my favourite ratatouille recipe! It’s amazing!

Ao3

—————————

Warnings: mild sexual content & mentions of gun violence, gangs, bullet wounds, fire hazards and unplanned pregnancy

The keys jangled as he took them out of his pocket, the lock clicked open and the old apartment door creaked. He took two steps into the hall, dropping his bag with a thud and closed the door behind him. Running a hand through his long, sweat slicked hair he sighed. Today had been a long day.

A deep inhale inflated his chest, but the black police vest he wore restricted it’s full extension. The smell of a wonderful home cooked meal made his stomach growl. Ratatouille, his favourite.

His heavy boot laden feet created echoing footsteps as he walked into the grey tiled kitchen. His wife stood at the stove humming, the google pad’s screen was lit with the ingredients list. She scooped and flipped the squared vegetable mix before putting the lid upon it for the meal to soften. She turned to her sketchpad, inspired by something unknown. Drawing captured her full attention, her brain’s need to replicate the idea on paper outweighed her focus on her surroundings.

He should have known better. He grew up with vigilantes and superheroes. He should have know never to sneak up on someone, especially if they knew how to fight; although this rule doesn’t count for villains (they know what they did).

For Marinette, it had been a long day of ripped seems and designer’s block.. It was nearing on eight when she finally started dinner. Looking at the clock she sighed, ‘Dick’s working late again.’ She hoped he wasn’t caught up in the shooting across town. Two gangs had a disagreement over territory and many civilians got caught up in it. She wanted to help but she had been banned from heroine duties for the time being. Her last ladybug adventure resulted in a bullet to her leg, which was still healing.

Dick took her to the hospital stating she had gotten caught in the crossfire (which now reminds her they need to restock the medical supplies), and they discovered that she was four weeks pregnant.

In present time she was still well within her first trimester, just starting her second month; and she was feeling it too. Vomiting each morning wasn’t fun, more so when it started happening more frequently throughout the day. Their midwife reassured the young couple that it was completely normal, but if it keeps up to come back as it may become hyperemesis gravidarum which will harm the baby.

Baby.

She was still trying to wrap her head around it. She had turned twenty-four last July and Dick was only older by a year. They weren’t planning on this and they had taken all of the precautions to prevent it. Yeah sure, they were married but it hadn’t even been two years! Her worry for the future faded as she reminisced on her husband’s reaction to the discovery. He was shocked for a few seconds before jumping up and down like a toddler who got a toy, beaming with joy. Tears of happiness pricked his eyes, threatening to spill on a moments notice.

Another symptom that weighted upon her was fatigue. She was no longer a teen who could challenge the world with a pen and a cup of coffee. She was a tired, pregnant adult who had to give away her coffee maker due to the temptation being too strong. No more late night or all-nighters designing clothes and completing commissions. She had to lessen her commissions due to the stressful nature of them but working from home, in her own studio helped. It had been a month since she found out and now she just wanted to hibernate due to lack of energy.

Putting down the spatula, she scooped up the pen, suddenly inspired by the mix of colours; an autumn playsuit came to mind. Biting her lip as she drew, neglecting her surroundings, the blare of the news channel becoming white noise.

She should have known better. She was a superhero, albeit she was benched at the moment, but still! The first rule of ‘herodom’ was to always do the right thing, but the second rule was to always be aware of your surroundings.

Arms wrapped around her waist, a small gasps left her mouth and her elbow drove straight back into her captor’s chest. A masculine groan came from behind her, but she paid it no mind as she tried to get out of the man’s strong grip.

“Mari, Mari! Calm down it’s me” Her husband said breathlessly. Her jab winded him, although it was softened by his police uniform, Marinette’s miraculous strength was powerful to say the least. He just wish he didn’t have to be on the receiving end of it.

“Ma moitié! Why would you do that!?” Her anguished cry caused him to hide his chuckle in her neck. Her heartbeat made its presence known within her chest and her breathing was still shallow. Turning within his embrace, she faced him with a pout on her face, “You jerk, you scared me!” She whimpered, her pregnancy hormones had blurred the line between her emotions causing her mood to flip like a switch.

Dick looked down at her with a guilt riddled face. “Shoot Mari, I’m sorr-“

Before he could finish apologising Marinette tugged him down and connected her lips to his. She leaned back into the countertop, cupping his cheek and jaw with both hands. Dick eagerly followed her lead.

He picked her up, his hands moulding the flesh of her thighs. He had done this before, but took extra precautions this time due to her still healing leg injury. He moved her away from the countertop and sat her upon the plush couch. He hovered above her, lips only splitting for a millisecond for air before closing the gap once more.

Marinette pushed on his shoulder and swiftly flipped him so that she was on top. The quick motion caused his head to slam back into the wall, the noise halted their make-out session. Her eyes widened, the cloud of lust had evaporated and rained down on her parade. She apologised multiple times to him, eyes watering in the process.

Dick just laughed before pulling her back in for another kiss. In contrast to the sloppy wet kisses before, the gentleness off Mari’s lips now made him feel like he was made of glass. She filled it with her remorse over hurting him. But as the kiss continued it shifted back to the momentum and passion they had before.

Her hands trailed up his chest, she shivered into the kiss; he had just taken off her shirt, leaving her in her bra. His thumb brushed under the mound of her breast, he felt her furious heartbeat through he skin.

Her focus lowered to his bare neck. Placing kiss upon kiss there and biting occasionally, leaving a trail of pink marks for his colleagues to see during his neck shift. A hand ran down her back as it arced, pushing her bosom into his chest.

They broke apart, foreheads pressed together, bodies flushed against each other’s. She peppered his face with kisses, “I love you”s were stated after each. He returned this action with the same fervour.

Something was wrong though. It was a sudden onset plaguing thought that something wasn't right. They had tried to ignore it but it had become like a tugging string tied around their hearts, signalling an oncoming danger. Wordlessly the two scanned the apartment, neither wanting to part from their entanglement.

Confused the two looked back at the other. Neither finding what set off the warning sensation. As their eyes connected, realisation washed over them like a bucket of ice water. They inhaled the burnt air and scrambled apart; both exclaiming “Fuck!”

Running into the kitchen, the tiles were cold against her bare feet. Dark unventilated smoke hung in the air. Upon entry to the room it was a wall of heat, it was a wonder the smoke alarms hadn’t gone off yet. Dick grabbed a nearby tea towel and swatted at the smoke, he shuffled towards the burners, mouth and nose hidden within his elbow.

Marinette opened all nearby windows, she hoped that the neighbours on the floors above didn’t question the smoke. The couple worked together to set up a system of fans to push out the smoke from the kitchen.

“If Alfred were here he would kill us.” Dick solemnly nodded in reply, ‘we should have known better’. He scraped the burnt black char into the bin, while Mari held the pan. Once the pan cooled down enough it went into the bin too, there was no saving it.

Dick tied up the yellow bin bag and placed the spatula into the sink. “Soooo... want chinese? If you’re up for it, it’ll be my treat.”

Her stomach growled as her eyes flicked to the clock, it was almost nine and she hadn’t eaten since breakfast at seven. She nodded, “sounds good let’s go!”

She walked towards the door, hand on the handle when she realised that he hadn’t followed her. Turning back around she saw him staring at her, cheeks flushed, unmoved from his position next to the bin.

“Um babe?”

“What’s wrong Ma moitié? I thought you wanted Chinese.” Her head tilted, confused at his actions.

He cleared his throat, eyes flicking away. “Babe you’ve forgotten your shirt.”

“Shit” left her lips as she bolted back to the couch, vaulting over a counter much to Dick’s disapproval. She heard him scolding her from the other room, but was too hungry to care.

Walking back to him, now appropriately dressed, she grabbed his hand, pulling him out the door. He just sighed, following his crazy wife, throwing the bag into the complex’s dumpster on the way to the car.

No one was getting in between her and her noodles.

#maribat #mlb x dc #dc x mlb #marinette x dick #dick x marinette #dickinette #Alfred shivered at the sensation of burning food #Alfred would be disappointed #never get in the way of Mari and her noodles

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samgtt700 · 3 years ago

Text

The Will of Time

Chapter Nine

Previous chapter: Chapter Eight

Kamilah x MC

A/N: sorry for the wait again but it’s my decision to split the finale into two that makes it work for me and for my readers. Hope you enjoy and working on finale now! Stay tuned! Hope you enjoy.

Alice glanced at Lysimachus, entering his human mind with ease. Her voice echoing in his mind as he stepped back and then glanced at her, curtly nodding to him. ‘Listen to me. Time is short and you must do as I say. You must get to the others and offer your blood. I know your still weak and not ready to do such a thing but it’s the only way we all walk out of here.’

‘I will. I know the costs. I’ve lost too many friends to war.’ Lysimachus answered in his head. Nodding to her.

Alice charged, using a physic blast to knock Gaius and Cleopatra out of her way as she went after Dorian. Kamilah taking out the Royal guards near her, distracting them for Lysimachus sake. Slicing her way pass two before rolling over the third and snapping his neck. Making easy work of them compared to the past times she had sparred with them.

Lysimachus sprinting across, dropping his shoulder into the Dorians follower guarding the group, knocking him into the wall behind him, lysimachus quickly stepping on his throat and twisting his leg to break his neck. Fighting two more guards, his experience in war no match for dorians weaker followers as he sliced their backs before decapitating his enemies. Their heads rolling towards Lily.

‘And I thought Kamilah was good at removing heads in style.’ She chuckled, finding the humour in the most bizarre of situations like usual. Lysimachus staring at her in confusion. ‘Hey. Get me out will you.’ She held her hands up and Lysimachus cut her bindings. ‘Thank god. I only agree when there is a hot girl involved.’

‘Not the time Lily.’ Serafine was released from her bindings, helping Cal out of his. ‘We need to cut down their numbers and isolate Gaius, Cleopatra and Dorian.’

‘Alice is isolating them.’ Lily saw Alice fighting all three with precision, having no issue holding the three of them at bay with her experience. ‘We all know what to do.’

Lysimachus knelt and offered his wrist to Adrian who nodded before sinking his teeth into him, feeding off him before breaking free of his shackles. He charged at Gaius and threw him into a nearby pillar. Serafine feeding off nearby guard with lily. Regaining their strength and rejoining the battle. Katherine escaping her binds, and sprinting across to Alex, cupping his cheek as she saw his injuries. ‘Your not joining the fighting, your in no shape.’

‘I must, they need me.’ Alex insisted. Getting to his feet weakly before falling forward into Katherines arms. ‘I have to prevent Kamilah.’

‘Prevent?’

‘My step mother warned me that time could break if I failed to stop her when it mattered.’

Katherine pulled him out the way, insisting. ‘We’ll be safe here.’

Alex saw Nik pass him, aiming up Cleopatra and firing, a bolt going through her hand as she went to stab Kamilah in the back who was fighting one of Dorian’s sorcerers. ‘Not today.’

Kamilah cut the throat of the sorcerer before driving a dagger for cleopatras chest. ‘I trusted you and you betrayed my family.’ She was surprised how quick Cleopatra moved for a new vampire.

Alice ducked underneath a fire ball Dorian launched, weaving around his guards as they attacked her, focusing on her. She was shot in the back as she cut down the last one, falling to her knees, reaching behind her and ripping it out before seeing how tired and quickly launching it back and taking him out. ‘You and me. Let us end this.’

‘I’m never alone.’ Dorian smirked, Alice watching as Gaius impaled Adrian and subdued Serafine and Lily. Leaving Kamilah and her as the only vampires standing. Cal taking down the last royal guard before Gaius launched himself at the werewolf, Cal throwing him off before collapsing when she saw how bloody his fur was and Gaius’s Roman blade covered in blood and fur.

Kamilah was pushed back by Cleopatra and Gaius to be beside Alice. Lysimachus being forced back by Katherine to hide as Nik was shot in the back by guards.

Dorian, Gaius and Cleopatra charged, Alice and Kamilah fighting back to back, stopping their strikes, Alice feeling Dorian’s anger as he tried to enter her mind again but she threw it back at him, getting into his head and messing with him enough to distract him and she grabbed Kamilah’s dagger from her back pocket and stabbed him with force. Slamming him into the pillar across the room. Gaius heistating as Kamilah sliced all the way up his arm, Alice seeing Cleopatra taking advantage of Kamilah stretched out in her attack and Kamilah was sprayed in blood.

‘No!’ Kamilah dropped her daggers and caught Alice, impaled by a fire spear. Alice gritted her teeth as she pulled it out, her body not healing.

Dorian pounced, stabbing Alice with a stake. Kamilah screaming, Alice’s body vanishing before her very eyes. A rage filling Kamilah, Serafine feeling it as she managed to get to her feet. ‘No Kamilah!’ But it fell on deaf ears as Kamilah lost it, stabbing Cleopatra through the skull, her head exploding as Kamilah used force to kill her cousin. Her body turning to ash, Gaius barely dodging Kamilah daggers before he felt a dagger in in the back, Kamilah suddenly behind him and she ripped a dagger up his spine, taking his ability to walk as he fell to the ground.

Kamilah spinning her daggers in her hand, scowling and fangs ready to rip through her enemy. ‘You took everything!’

Dorian opened his hand and the fire spear landed in his hand. ‘Now you know how it feels. To lose everythingl!’ Dorian charged, Kamilah weaving around his swings with speed and striking with precision, hitting all his weak spots, stabbing him over a dozen times before stabbing him in the kneecap, taking his ability to stand on his right leg. Dorian still fighting a hopeless fight. Kamilah sneering before grabbing his spear and snapping it in half, her hand wrapping around his throat. His hands wrapping around her wrist, trying to break it to prevent her squeezing. Fighting with everything he had in him to stop her.

‘Kamilah!’ Adrian tried to stop her but Kamilah grabbed his throat and tossed him aside.

Kamilah snapped his neck, and ripped out his spine. Tossing it aside like a rag as dorians corpse hit the ground, bleeding heavily. She stepped back and took a few deep breaths. Hearing Gaius groan, trying to get up as his body healed. She knelt and picked up Gaius Roman blade, letting the tip drag along the ground. Gaius crawling to escape as kamilah impaled him with his own blade. ‘You’ve made me suffer at every turn.’ Kamilah knelt in his view, moving the bale and hearing Gaius scream. Letting him suffer.

Adrian tackled Kamilah again, ‘enough. This isn’t you!’ He pinned her in a complex hold, trying to hold for as long as his strength to hold the ancient vampire. ‘Stay down Gaius.’

Gaius couldn’t reach the blade, stuck where he was. Unable to escape, at the mercy of his enemies. ‘Your all vampires. I can feel my blood through your veins.’

Serafine felt Alice’s presence as Kamilah mangled Adrians arm to escape, seeing more of Dorians followers approach her. And she let them suffer before their death, prolonging their pain and suffering as she tore them apart. Adrian watching as the darkness overtook Kamilah.

Lysimachus dropped his sword, stepping through Kamilah’s carnage, not knowing if he could stop his sister but never realising she was capable of this. Learning a new side to her, realising how different this version of Kamilah was, how harden and cold she was. Like light had turned to darkness, the flame ignited was no longer pure. He stopped and glanced at the human version of his sister, ‘forgive me.’ He whispered before passing Adrian and serafine who tried to stop him. ‘No. I can stop her.’ He insisted, brushing them off and stepping over the bodies, finally reaching his sister who slit the throat of a follower. ‘Kamilah. Stop this madness, before it’s too late. You can come back from this. This isn’t who you are.’ He pressed his hand to her shoulder, hoping he could get through to her.

‘No!’

Lysimachus watched helplessly as his sister’s red eyes and fangs scowled at him, snapping his hand before plunging her dagger deep in his chest. Kamilah not registering it was her brother, as she shoved him away.

Serafine and Adrian both leapt forward, pulling Lysimachus back before she could harm him more. She pulled out his dagger and applied pressure to his chest with some curtain. ‘You’ll be ok.’ Serafine could feel where his wound was and knew his time was short without help. But feeling helpless to stop Kamilah as she raced upstairs to continue fighting anyone who opposed her. ‘She’ll slaughter everyone if we don’t stake her.’

‘I can’t.’ Adrian felt helpless. He didn’t think Kamilah would ever turn into a monster. ‘I can’t do it.’

‘We must. And you have to do it.’ Serafine pleaded. ‘Your the only one who could get close enough.’

‘She’s my sister.’ Adrian couldn’t do it, he always saw the good in everyone. Even in their darkest moments.

‘If you don’t. Everyone will die.’ Nik walked over. ‘She’s no longer herself. Alice’s death removed the last of her humanity.’

‘She’s no longer human?’ Lily asked. ‘Because the last time I checked. She wasn’t an alien.’

‘Not the time Lily.’ Adrian scowled. Turning back to Serafine and holding out his hand. ‘I’ll try to stop her without killing her, last resort.’ Serafine handed him the stake.

‘There is no coming back from his without a miracle Adrian. We’ve seen it a thousand times and we always have to make the hard choices.’ Serafine didn’t want to kill one of her dearest friend’s either but there needed to be a decision, and she doubted Kamilah could come back from it.

‘I know. I just-’

‘You never imagined it would be Kamilah we’d have to face.’

‘Yeah…’ Adrian resigned himself into the toughest decision of his life. Unable to stop what needed to be done now. ‘I’m sorry Lysimachus.’

‘I’ll go with you.’

‘No. This is something I have to do alone.’ Adrian loosened his tie, glancing at Gaius. ‘Make sure he doesn’t follow.’ Adrian made his way upstairs, following the blood trail. Stepping over the bodies, before finally coming face to face with Kamilah. Facing down his oldest and most dearest friend, drawing the stake when he saw the slaughtering of guards and servants alike.

‘They served my enemy.’

‘Kamilah. You killed innocent people.’ Adrian answered. His hand tightening around the stake before preparing himself for the toughest battle of his life. ‘You know we don’t stand for that. You don’t stand for that. We protect them.’

‘Cleopatra took everything from me.’ Kamilah glared. “Gaius took everything from me. Dorian took everything from me.’

‘Your family-’

‘They took Alice!’ Kamilah scowled.

‘You have me. You’ll always have me. Don’t make me do this Kamilah. Please.’

Alex pushed to his feet, pushing off Katherine despite her protests. Approaching Dorian’s broken spear and picking up the pieces, binding it with his magic and holding it up. Channeling his magic through it and feeling Alice’s presence before smirking. ‘She’s alive.’

_______________________________________________

Alice landed in a river, groaning as she pulled herself ashore. Her body broken and battered. Rolling onto her back and looking up at the night sky, the stars seemed peaceful but the smell of smoke and death told her a different story. Seeing the royal palace across the river Nile. Hearing screams and feeling pain. Holding her side as she stood, feeling blood soak her hand, picking up her sword with her free hand and stumbling forward. Struggling with injury and her body not healing at the pace she needed it too. ‘Come on. They need my help.’ She fell to her knees before forcing herself back up. Taking a deep breath and feeling how many ribs were broken in the fall.

Tags: @wildsayeed, @made-me-deep-blue, @iam-the-fuckin-queen, @midnightlive, @blaine-hayes, @h-doodles, @playallthechoices, @kamilahforever, @jellomello2akast, @kamilah-the-bloodqueen, @helpconfusedpersonhere, @scarlet-letter-a0114, @nydeiri, @tigerbryn11, @lifesadance96, @leenasayeed, @paodequeijofeliz-blog. @queenkamilah, @boundlessgratitude, @gaydinosaurbananamilkcarton, @kamilah-is-queen, @dimis-yiddies. @nell-crainxx, Let me know if you want to be added or if I’ve missed you, or accidentally tagged you. I’m having to comb through about four different lists! @vonda-b-real, sorry, it’s two chapters but I promise you’ll love it!

#kamilah sayeed #kamilah x mc #choices: bloodbound #bloodbound #lily spencer #adrian raines #serafine dupont #bb lysimachus #bloodbound mc #will of time #the will of time

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bts-hyperfixation · 4 years ago

Text

Hot for teacher

Professor Kim may be the hottest man to walk the planet. It was such a shame he was a pretentious asshole with the ego to match. From the moment you first walked into his philosophy lecture you knew it was not going to be a fun semester. His eyes raked across you and he smirked, from then on you became his punching bag every time no one was willing to answer his questions. He would pretend to look for someone else to call on, but he would always come back to you, seemingly taking pleasure in the way you squirmed unable to recall which philosophers he had been talking about.

After a particularly gruelling lecture, your friends decided you needed a night out. They had enough of seeing you come home and flop down onto your bed before reading every philosophy book on the reading list just to avoid the humiliation of your teachers questions again. It took some convincing on your end but eventually you find yourself in a revealing outfit, into an uber.

The destination was a bar popular with locals downtown, the uni students often avoided it because it was out of the way of the main clubs, making it perfect for your plan of quietly studying your e-books while your friends got too drunk to notice you breaking their rules. You ordered a cocktail to nurse as the girls you were with pounded a few shots before moving into a booth hidden in the corner. You didn’t see the professor enter the bar, but he saw you. Eyes once again dragging down your form, enjoying the new skin on offer while also cursing his old roommate’s choice of watering hole. He tries to concentrate on the conversation he is having with Jimin, but when your friends leave you alone in the booth his attention is drawn back to you. He watches as a couple of frat boy types seize the opportunity to descend on your now vulnerable position.

The boys squeeze into the booth, backing you into the corner. You can smell the beer on their breath as they get uncomfortably close to you. The one sat next to you puts a hand on your thigh. You wince as he pinches the exposed skin.

“What’s a pretty thing like you doing alone in a bar this far away from campus.” He flashes what you’re sure he thinks is a charming smile and leans impossibly closer to you. You dig your nails into his hand in an attempt to make him remove it, but he just grasps tighter.

“I’m not alone, my friends are over there” your voice is weaker than you would have liked and when you glance at your friends you notice they are a little too inebriated to help you right now. The boys smirk when they see that help isn’t coming for you. Panic rises in your throat as the hand on your thigh creeps further up, pushing your dress with it.

“Excuse me gentleman, if you don’t mind, the lady will be coming with me now.” You stare up at Taehyung, trying to process where he had come from, surprised you hadn’t seen him before now. He looks intimidating even outside of the lecture hall. The frat boys falter for a second before scoffing and brushing off the interruption. Taehyung does not take well to being ignored, reaching for a beer bottle nearby and smashing it against the table. “I said she is coming with me.”

The men glance at the sharp glass in your professor’s hand and then at each other before removing themselves from the benches, evidently deciding you weren’t worth the stitches. The relief floods your system as Taehyung lowers his self-made weapon.

“Are you okay?” he questions, holding his hand out to assist you out of the booth. You take it and slide out from behind the table. Your eyes don’t leave his as you straighten your dress out.

“Why are you helping me?” you’d meant for the question to stay in your mind, but it slipped out anyway.

“I couldn’t just leave you there, what kind of man would I be if I’d let them carry on.” You shake your head a little to dispel thoughts of a potential ulterior motive and whisper your thanks. “Can I take you home miss Y/L/N.” you nod and allow him to slip an arm around your shoulder, feeling protected in his embrace. He drops you at your apartment and the incident never comes up again. In class it’s like he doesn’t know you exist for a few days before he returns to making you wriggle with difficult question. He seems to take a sick pleasure in watching you. Finally, having had enough you decide to confront him after class.

“Do you have a problem with me sir?” just the two of you remain in the classroom when you corner him.

“I don’t know what you’re referring to miss Y/L/N.”

“Y/N call me Y/N, and I think you do know. You always pick on me, you see to enjoy making me feel uncomfortable.” He takes a step towards you and you tumble back, suddenly very aware of the intimidating aura that surrounds him. You long to cower away and leave but you feel hypnotized.

“Y/N” your name sounds amazing coming from his lips. He takes a few more steps forward and you find the back of your legs pressed against his desk. His arms fall either side of you, palms resting on the desk. “Whatever problem you’ve decided I’ve got with you is purely in your head, our relationship is strictly… professional.” His gaze falls to your cleavage on the last word and you swallow thickly, suddenly very warm. “Will there be anything else?” he releases you and returns to packing his things away. Your brain was left cloudy as you stammer out a negative and flea the room, trying to straighten out what had just happened in your head. All you knew was your panties were inexplicably soaked.

A friend’s birthday brings you to yet another bar. This one much closer to campus and filled with people you knew. Still, you are uneasy after the last encounter, eyes dating around the room to ensure your safety. Not allowing anyone to back you into a corner. Every little movement puts you a little more on edge. You wait until the birthday girl is sufficiently drunk and announce your exit. To your dismay no taxis are available for the next half an hour. You consider walking for a moment, but the thought fills you with dread. Seen as all your friends are in various states of inebriation you find yourself only left with one option. You grab your phone and send out a silent prayer that he is still awake and doesn’t mind.

“Professor? Can you come get me?

It doesn’t take long for Taehyung to reach the bar, but when he pulls up, he finds another student flirting with you. In all fairness this one is being far more respectful, but it still makes his blood boil. The man trails a hand down your shoulder, and you do your best to turn him down politely. He climbs from his car and makes his way to you.

“Y/N are you ready to leave?” you are shocked to find him there with you so soon but nod anyway. The other student backs away immediately, Taehyung’s glare enough to scare anyone off as he leads you to his car. You clamber into the passenger seat and wait for him to drive you home. It’s a quiet ride, until you notice him miss the exit for the student dorms, instead heading for the teacher’s quarters.

“Sir? Where are we going?” you pulse races when you see the way he is looking at you.

“Clearly you can’t be trusted to keep yourself safe, so I thought I’d take you back to my apartment for the night, is that okay?” You nod your consent, and his free hand moves to play with the hair at the nape of your neck. You lean into the touch as he pulls softly. He soon pulls into the driveway of a small apartment complex used by newer teachers. He turns off the engine. Releasing your hair, he opens his door before coming around to help you from the car. He leads you through the front door, checking the coast is clear of other professors. He swiftly unlocks the door to his own apartment and ushers you in. you barely get a chance to look around the room before his hands are on you. He feels every curve of your body, lingering at your hips. After what seems like and age, his lips find their way to yours.

It’s the most passionate kiss you’ve ever experienced. Your head empties completely, consumed with only the need to get impossibly closer to him. You find yourself moaning loudly against his lips. He pulls away from you, holding your shoulders so you can’t follow him.

“Shh baby, you have to be quiet or we will get in trouble.” He presses his lips to your forehead. “You don’t want that do you.” You shake your head in response. “That’s my good girl.” You keen at the praise, desperate for him to call you that again. He kisses you again this time lifting you. You instinctively wrap your legs around his waist, and he carries you over to a large desk to the side of his room. He places you atop the cold wood. You shiver at the change in temperature, leaning further into Taehyung for warmth. He slots in between your legs, allowing you the extra contact. His fingers trail up your thighs and settle against your damp panties.

“So wet already… is it all for me baby? Or did that college boy do it for you? Did you get turned on by his shameless flirting while you were waiting for me?” his tone is teasing but it makes you whimper, worried he was displeased with you.

“Only you Taehyung, all for you” your voice is whiny as you grind into his hand, desperate for some friction.

“Sir… you will call me Sir.” He removes the pressure from your core and undoes his belt.

“Yes sir.” Your eyes are glued to his waist, mouth dry as he pulls the leather away from his pants. The movement is agonisingly slow.

“Good girl.” He purrs watching as you bask in the praise. “whose good girl?”

“Yours sir, always yours” he pulls your face up to meet his, kissing you as a reward for your good behaviour. You savour his sweet taste. He grips your hair and drags you backwards.

“On your knees.” You slide from the desk with no hesitation and open your mouth expectantly. He chuckles at your eager response. Petting your messy hair before unsheathing himself. Your mouth water instantly, a comfortable width and above average length. He is staring down at you, holding himself ready for you. Nothing in your life could have prepared you for how turned on this man would make you. You lurch forward, licking precoma from the tip of his throbbing cock. He tsks at you.

“So impatient Y/N, good girls should wait for their reward.”You sit back on your heels and wait for him to tell you it's okay sad that you've disappointed him. He strokes your hair again head nods letting you know it's okay to begin. Eagerly you wrap your lips around the head letting your hands cover the base where your throat won't reach. You run your tongue along a vein on the underside of his shaft. He quivers at the sensation hands burying deep within your hair.

You smile to yourself knowingly, loving that you were able to cause him pleasure. It's not long before his grasp is forcing you to take him deeper gag as he pushes you past your limits deeper and deeper onto his cock you struggled to breathe through your nose. He feels your throat constrict in protest but doesn't release you.

“Just a little longer” you feel him tense on your tongue trying to hold back his orgasm and you suck harder. Before you can make him cum, he removes himself from your mouth and you mourn the loss. You take the time to catch your breath as he helps you stand pressing his lips back on yours roughly. This time he lifts you and carries you into his bedroom throwing you onto the bed joining you quickly. He straddles you and pulls your dress over your head. He also makes quick work of your underwear, losing them somewhere in the corner of his room as he throws them away. He trails his mouth down your naked form hesitating before diving into your core.

He peppers your thighs with kisses, His warm breath mixing with the cold of your slick making you shiver as he edges closer and closer to where you need him the most. Soon Helix slowly up your slit hovering above your clit before sucking it into his mouth. You arch your back at the contact. His fingers soon join the assault, two slipping within you. As he pumped them finding the rough spot inside you, you feel the high in your stomach building embarrassingly quick. While he works hard to get you off your moans get a little too loud again and he slaps your thigh reminding you to be quiet. You bite down on your hand trying desperately not to scream as he brings you to climax. He continues until you're at the point of overstimulation enjoying the small whimpers that make their way past the barricade of your hand.

Once he decides that you are stimulated enough, he makes his way back up to your face. You grasp on to his shoulders needing the contact of his well chiselled form. Soon you feel him lining himself up with your entrance. You worry that it will hurt from the overstimulation brought on by your previous orgasm, but you can't find that within you to voice your concern only wanting to please him. He slowly pushes into you. You clench around him at the intrusion, feeling overly full. He gives you barely enough time to adjust before starting to thrust, no longer able to hold himself back. You grasp the bed sheets to keep you steady as he sets an unrelenting speed in search of his high. His eyes on yours, boring into you intensely, daring you to see what would happen if you looked away from him or made a sound. Your mesmerized by the concentration on his face, drawn in by everything about him. He cums deep inside of you, burying himself as much as he could until his dick stopped spasming.

“Are you okay, baby?” is the first thing out of his mouth when he comes to. You nod and his mouth twists into a boxy grin. “That’s my good girl.” You cuddle into his side sleepily and try not to focus on what will happen when you next attend one of his lectures.

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sadachmesarthim · 4 years ago

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peter learns to shut the fuck up challenge

oh my god hi okay i’m (kind of) freshly back to tumblr and haven’t written content like this in over half a decade please be nice to me i am a broken 21 year old who can’t take criticism for shit

marvel cinematic universe: peter!centric, eventually starker

content: graphic depictions of violence, extremis!flash, selective mutism, brief talks of dying but it’s not that bad tbh, slightly aged up peter (he’s 18), use of slurs and derogatory terms, both in reference to self and someone else

summary: peter’s taken enough shit in his life. he lost his parents, he lost ben, he’s dealt with the number of shitty men may brought home - flash was like the cherry on top of the shit sundae. after a particularly bad day of taunting, peter is fed up, and decides to teach flash a lesson - but our baby boy is in for a big surprise when he discovers he isn’t the only freak kid at midtown tech.

............................................................................................................................

Peter'd been categorized as a loudmouth for years - by May, his friends at school, the Avengers he fought (and fought beside) in Berlin.

Never able to stop his nervous ramblings, his mouth tended to run away with him. He somehow never developed a filter, often getting himself into quite a bit of trouble. Usually his pretty face and quick thinking kept him from any real repercussions.

But there was one such instance he... couldn’t exactly get out of.

He'd been struggling with Flash's bullying for years. He'd called Peter names, hurled slurs, spat out indecencies - normally, Peter could take it. But after the bite... they all landed so much harder.

Peter didn't understand it - spiders didn't have emotions, did they?? Even if they did, that doesn't explain why he's so sensitive. If anything, you'd think the bite would make him aggressive, or argumentative, or angry - spiders were predators, not pussies. What was his problem?

He'd finally had enough one day at the end of his senior year. Flash was being particularly snide - excitement from graduation pushing his normal antics into overdrive.

"Oh come on, Penis. You gonna fight back one of these days or are you just gonna keep hanging your sad faggot head around town?" Flash followed him out of the school building, laughing at his own "joke".

What he wasn't prepared for was an actual answer to his question.

"Yeah, actually. I will."

Peter turned around, grabbing Flash by the straps of his backpack. He glanced around, checking for spectators, before shoving his bully into a secluded alley just ahead of them.

Flash, surprised (but not entirely put off), worked himself free of the backpack and slid behind the smaller boy. Sure, Peter was enhanced, but Flash still had a good head on him height wise.

"Finally decide to manhandle me back, huh Parker? That's so cute." Flash smirked, looking him up and down as he crowded Peter into the corner. "If you're feeling so big and brave, go ahead."

Peter looked up, confusion warping his soft features. Flash... wanted Peter to hit him? Why?

Before he could actually ask, he found himself collapsing on the ground, gasping for air. Flash drew his fist back, shaking off the punch he'd just thrown into Peter's side. He snatched his bag off the ground, tossing it away from Peter & beside a nearby dumpster.

"Christ, you look so pathetic down there! I almost forgot how small you were for a second," he laughed, taking a second to gloat. "Come on, Parker. What happened to finally fighting back?"

Peter'd always been a bit overzealous - I mean, c’mon, the kid grew up listening to stories about Steve Rogers for fucks sake, how could he not develop an underdog complex? He'd spent his childhood defending his family name, his teens protecting May from overzealous asshole boyfriends, and the most recent few watching over all of Queens.

So yeah, of course Peter was going to take this opportunity to kick some ass if he could.

He struggled to his feet and stumbled forward, regaining his balance and breath as he met Flash's eyes. The tiny success was short lived, though, as he felt himself flying backward and up into the brick wall behind him. What the actual fuck?

Peter's senses never failed him - and yet, they just had, twice in the last five minutes! What the fuck? How was Flash able to hit him without warning? How was Flash able to throw him?

The confusion must've been all over his face - Flash laughed as Peter crumpled & didn't attempt to get up again. He crowded into Peter's space, getting close to the little spider's ear.

"You really think you're the only special one in Queens, don't you Penis? You think you're the only one that can break a grown man in half?" Peter groaned, wincing at the pain behind his eyes. "Newsflash, freak. You're not special, you're not important, and you're not leaving this alley alive."

It was then, as Peter glanced back up, that Flash's eyes were glowing a sick green-grey unlike anything he'd ever seem. The senses that'd previously failed him so tragically now did a full 180, sending a wave of cortisol through his system. The need to runclimbswingescapego washed over him, the spider inside completely overriding the human.

As if he'd read Peter's mind, Flash quickly grabbed him by the throat, cutting off both his airway and any potential escape route. He squeezed hard, dragging Peter up the wall until they could look each other in the eye. He crowded closer, setting Peter's skin on fire in the worst way possible.

Peter was choking, clawing at the hand on his throat and trying to kick the monster in front of him away. Flash, annoyed, tightened his grip until Peter's hands dropped and his face turned purple.

Flash chuckled, dropping a now barely conscious Peter into a puddle on the rocky ground. He opted to trade his hands for the steel toed boots he'd so carefully laced up that morning, lips curling as the idea took shape in his head.

The first kicks landed on Peter's stomach, forcing air and blood from his mouth. The next were more stomps than anything, not aimed with any thought or finesse. Each landed heavier than the first, quickly pushing Peter toward a complete blackout. The spider was still screaming, but Peter couldn't do jack shit about it.

He lay back, resigned to his fate. I'm going to die here, he thought, desperately wishing he'd just kept his fucking mouth shut. A little bit of bullying was so much better than dying a week before graduation.

But, somehow, he didn't. Sure, Flash beat him all to shit - May had the hospital bill and the new grey hairs to prove it. But Peter lived.

It took Flash a while to get it all out of his system. The more pain he inflicted, the brighter his eyes got, slowly taking over any illusion of empathy his once brown irises had. He did, eventually, tire, and grow bored of kicking the same stunned spider. When he’d had his fill, he reached down for his backpack, hooking it onto his shoulder and smiling to himself.

Before leaving, though, he turned back to Peter, crouching down and settling mere inches from his face.

“Looks like I got Peter Parker to finally shut the fuck up.” Flash looked down at him as he rose, spitting on Peter’s face as a last hurrah before ditching him and the alley completely.

Peter crawled his way out of the alley after Flash left, blood soaking his shirt and face so swollen he was nearly unrecognizable. He dragged himself to the nearest shop, the kind (and very distraught) owner calling an ambulance the second she'd seen him.

............................................................................................................................

6 weeks later he was back to 100%, diploma in hand, ready to get the fuck out of Queens and up to Cambridge. He'd spent enough time being coddled, people hovering over him and tending to wounds he knew would take care of themselves. These took significantly longer, the extent of the damage worse than anyone thought - but he still healed, and was ready to stretch all eight of his metaphorical legs and get back to school.

The only problem? He couldn't speak.

Okay okay, maybe that's a bit dramatic - his vocal cords and tongue and everything still worked perfectly fine. But every time Peter opened his mouth, words failed him.

It was like Flash's hand was back around his throat, forcing air out of him and the words back inside. How the fuck was he supposed to go to school if he was effectively mute? Peter’d learned Italian in school, not ASL (a choice he was quickly regretting), but even if he had, he wasn't sure his hands would be willing to speak for him either. All forms of effective communication were stolen from him.

He had less than a month before he was supposed to be in the MIT dorms and starting class. 90% of his prereqs required group discussion and verbal participation, so Peter was well and truly fucked if he couldn't figure this out.

Besides, what superhero couldn't talk? How lame was that? Half of his whole schtick was sassy one-liners. At this point, Spiderman was becoming synonymous with snark!

His first night back in May's apartment, he cried himself to sleep thinking about it. This sudden feeling - all grief and loss and shattered expectations he didn't even know he had... his whole world was suddenly gone, and he didn't know what the fuck to do.

The worst part?

He didn't even have the words to ask for help.

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thefanficmonster · 4 years ago

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Darkest Of Nights

Connor Walsh & Michaela Pratt (How to Get Away With Murder)

Warnings: Sexual Assault, Vomiting, Swearing, Spoilers for Season 1 of How To Get Away With Murder

Genre: Hurt/Comfort, Platonic Relationship

Summary: On the night of Sam’s murder, it’s safe to say everyone is traumatized, looking for comfort and solace. However, one of them gets the complete opposite: Michaela is only offered more pain and trauma, bringing her to the brink of insanity.

Requested by 🐢 Anon, but also meant as a birthday present for an Anon who recently reached out to me. Happy birthday dear Anon! Hope you have the best one yet! Here’s the fic you requested - I hope it lives up to your expectations! It’s been such an honor to be the person to write you a birthday present and I can only hope I’ve done my job well! Love, Vy ❤

She’s still in utter shock and disbelief. She’s shaking like a leaf as she navigates the roads back to her apartment. It pains her that she’ll have to pass by the Keating house again tonight, knowing what happened there just hours ago. She squeezes the jacket tighter around herself, glad to not see any familiar - or rather any faces at all. The bonfire has gathered every college student, graduate and fan of the sport around itself, giving the streets an emptiness Michaela hasn’t seen before.

Michaela Pratt has always liked planning out her life, having her future laid out in front of her always at her disposal for changing and modifying. She’s always seen herself a successful, envied lawyer in the future, someone other lawyers fear and all wrong-doers want. Because who doesn’t want freedom? She’d pride herself on being the one to bring them that freedom. She’d pride herself on owning a title like Annalise’s - a bitch, a beast and a boss in the courtroom.

However, just like she had everything laid out in front of her eyes, she’s watching it all fall apart. Fall into that very bonfire her and her classmates went to take pictures at to own their alibis. To save themselves from possible suspicion. To paint the picture that they aren’t murderers.

That realization will never soften its blow to her chest and stomach. Every time she repeats the word ‘murderer’ in her mind, her heart skips a bit and her stomach turns, threatening to make her release everything in it onto the pavement she’s walking on. She feels disgusting and dirty, not only because of the ash and mud she has all over herself following the venture into the woods where they dismembered Sam’s body, but because she took part in it. She may have stood aside, crippled by shock, disbelief and disgust, but she’s now a part of it nonetheless.

With her heart and mind racing faster than she’s able to comprehend, she finds herself unable to turn that corner and get onto the street which the Keating house is on. She feels that if she sees that place she might just faint right there on the street and if that doesn’t raise a few questions, nothing will. Instinctively, she continues ahead, heading down the street that will inevitably lead her to where the mob of drunk or half-drunk people are surrounding a huge fire, celebrating something Michaela is less than disinterested in. She feels it’d make for an extra alibi in case the pictures they posted aren’t enough proof of their faux innocence.

Michaela squints her eyes at the brightness of the fire nearby, sensing both a cough and a sickening feeling climbing up her throat. There are reporter trucks everywhere, ones she sees as the perfect hiding barriers to prevent her from being seen by anyone in case that sickening feeling morphs into an urge to throw up. She quickens her pace, eager to find herself in the safe space between two of the reporter trucks and attempt to calm her heart that’s threatening to beat out of her chest. She’s still visible to anyone walking along the street, but as it was established earlier, the street’s vacant and it seems it’ll remain that way for a little longer so she feels almost invisible and tiny in comparison to the two truck that serve the purpose of her protectors in this very moment.

Placing a hand on the wall of the truck, she doubles over, preparing for the inevitable when she hears a whistle from somewhere close by. Or, more specifically, directly behind her.

“What a view baby!“ A drunken slur of a male voice follows that whistle, causing her to straighten up and turn on her heel as fast as possible. “Is that how women ask to get some nowadays?”

Her stomach’s now in knots and she can’t find her voice to say anything. She’s frozen with fear of the man’s silhouette that’s now approaching her. His features aren’t visible in the dark so even if she did know him - which she’s sure she doesn’t - she wouldn’t be able to recognize him. Not that it matters, recognizing him or not, this man’s intentions are more than clear and more than threatening.

“Silence means yes in my book, babe. So...why don’t we have some fun?“ Before she can even register his proximity, he’s grabbed her wrists and pushed her against one of the trucks. The disgusting fucker holds her wrists at either side of her head, firmly holding them there, ridding her of any chance of escape.

The events she’s had to go through have already weakened her enough but even with that put to the side she’s no match for this guy - he’s a lot stronger and bigger in size. He’s basically towering over her like a predator looming over its prey, toying with it before going in for the kill. And when he does, when she feels his lips on her neck, that’s the final straw.

The need to relieve her insides finally takes over and she starts gagging, causing the son of a bitch to pull away and let go of her. And then she throws up, all over him, earning her the perfect distraction that will buy her enough time to get the fuck out of there. Despite the shaking of her legs and her still-turning stomach, Michaela takes off running, feeling sweat drops forming and running down her forehead. She can hear the cursing of that gross fucker behind her, but luckily she doesn’t take notice of another pair of running footsteps, suggesting she isn’t being followed. Even with this knowledge, she doesn’t stop running. Her brain understands she’s somewhat safe but her heart is racing, her heartbeat echoing in her ears warning her that there’s danger all around. So, she keeps running until she’s less then two blocks away from her apartment complex.

Her adrenaline levels refuse to lower but her legs have basically turned into jelly and she can’t find it in her to even keep walking, let alone running. She collapses, a mess of tears, sobbing and fear on the sidewalk. It’s too much. All too much and all too soon and all out of nowhere. She feels violated, vulnerable, unsafe. She feels both fragile and like she’s already been broken into shards. She feels alone and worst part is, she feels like she deserves it. She sees what happened between those two truck as a punishment for having participated in a murder and the gruesome disposal of a dead body.

Michaela Pratt always knew karma would catch up to her, she just never expected it’d be this cruel.

She got taught the hard way that in the darkest of nights, the most evil of demons attack.

* * *

Connor Walsh is known to be laid back and nonchalant to the point of irritative. However, right now, he’s anything but.

He’s anxious, he’s nervous, he’s still under shock and in mild panic mode. He’s restless, pacing the living room of the Keating home while running his hands through his hair, desperately trying to ignore and push away the memories of the events that took place in this very room less than twenty four hours ago.

“Where the hell is she?!!“ He takes a portion of his anger out on the wooden coffee table with a punch that will for sure bruise his knuckles. His eyes skim over the two other accomplices who have never looked so out of it: dead, bloodshot eyes carrying a thousand yard stare, neither of them reacting to his rage nor sharing it with him. “How the fuck are you so calm?! How can you just sit there and-!“

“Cause there’s nothing we can do!“ Wes suddenly snaps, “You heard Annalise - she called in, saying she wouldn’t be able to make it. So what, you want us to exhibit even more suspicious behavior by thrashing and yelling all over the place?“

“No, no, no. She had said she couldn’t make it because she had something to take care of. That ‘something’ could be reporting us, how do you not understand that?!“ Connor lashes out again, his fists only tightening this time, not finding a victim to take their hits.

“Michaela wouldn’t do that, she’s not stupid. It’ll immediately tie her to it too. She’ll go to jail like the rest of us.“ Laurel says, much calmer than the two men in the room though it probably has to do with the lack of energy due to the lack of sleep.

“You never know what’s going on in the brain of that selfish woman!“ He mutters, suddenly getting up and grabbing his phone. He storms out into the hallway, already dialing Michaela’s number.

With the device pressed tightly against his ear, the dial tone piercing his head like a screech straight from hell, he runs a frustrated hand over his pale as a sheet face, squeezing his eyes shut. The call eventually goes to voicemail, but that doesn’t stop Connor Walsh. He keeps trying, each attempt falling through, each call getting sent to voicemail after about five rings. Each time his anger boiling hotter.

“The hell do you want?! Can’t you catch a hint?!“ His seventh attempt is proven successful when a familiar female voices answers from the other line.

“Oh, I’m sorry, Princess. Am I bothering you? My most sincere apologies! I just wanted to know if you feel like ratting us out to the police, but if I’m calling at an inconvenient time, please forgive me.“ He sneers, his sanity restraints breaking one by one under the pressure of frustration, fear and the anxiety attack that’s been building in his chest all day today.

“Listen here, Walsh.“ Michaela hisses threateningly, though Conner doesn’t fail to pick up on the fact that there’s something off about her voice. He doesn’t dwell on that, too over-occupied with his worries of future jail time to care. “I’m not in the mood for your selfishness or for dealing with any of what happened last night so save your shit-talking for a more decent time. And as for the ratting part, I ain’t that kind of scum, though karma will catch up to each and every one of you. Just like...“ her voice suddenly cracks, the words sounding more like a sob than a threat, “Just like it caught up to me last night.“ That sentence is spoken through a cry, which is the last thing Connor was expecting to hear from the woman he deemed so high and mighty and so full of herself she can’t see the world around her nor how she’s affecting it with her selfish decisions.

That last sentence of hers is what the call ends on and what anchors itself in his head. Connor’s left standing in the hallway with a sickening feeling in his stomach that wasn’t there before and a little voice telling him that something is very wrong with Michaela. Her words were all her trademark, expected and explainable phrases but her tone, and that final statement were odd and far too out of place for him to just brush off. That last line she spoke felt like the most sincere and vulnerable thing she’s ever said to him. To anyone, really. There was no show, no tough act in those words. It was nothing but the confession of a broken girl who’s never felt like her life isn’t her own until now.

With that alarm ringing throughout his head and no good explanation, instead of turning and heading into the living room like he originally intended to, Connor storms out the front door of the home with fast and determined steps, heading for the destination he never thought he’d go to.

* * *

Having ordered food twenty minutes prior, Michaela doesn’t find the doorbell sounding throughout her apartment to be weird or unwelcome despite the fact it made her jump and shudder in her seat. With the comfort of the tiny pepper spray bottle in the back pocket of her jeans, she makes her way to the front door, resting one hand on the handle before pushing up on her toes to check through the peephole that the person she’s expecting is indeed the one who’s on the other side.

Her stomach drops and frustration rises through the roof when the peephole reveals the familiar, somewhat distressed face of Connor Walsh.

“GO AWAY!“ She yells turning and placing her back against the door, now not at all willing to open it.

“I’m not going anywhere until you tell me what’s going on with you!“ She hears his voice coming from beyond the door, sounding strangely honest and deeply concerned.

“Why do you care anyway?! I already told you I won’t rat you out, you’ve got nothing to worry about!“ The lack of hostility in her voice seems to encourage Connor to speak a bit more freely.

“Come on, Shooting Star. Students who kill and dispose of bodies together share problems together.“ He says sarcastically but with true gentility behind his words.

That hint of honesty and a bit of harmless humor is what makes her slowly inch her hand toward the doorknob once again. After briefly hesitating, she pulls the door open, not at all bothered by the fact her rival is seeing her the most unpresentable she ever remembers being: hair a mess, homey clothes she can’t even recall the age of, no make-up, eye bags - the whole pack.

“Don’t like a Princess or a Shooting Star, do I?“ She attempts the same amount of humor he used but coming from her it sounds rather dead and flat, not that it’s not to be expected after everything she went through.

“You look like someone who has seen and been through some shit.“ He says truthfully, still standing in the hallway, unwilling to go inside until she gives him the green light for fear she might suddenly snap at him. “And I’m not only talking about what happened with Sam.“

Michaela’s eyes gloss over with tears immediately, mentally cursing herself for being so obvious. In order to avoid eye-contact, she steps aside to allow him inside.

“Thank you.“ He mutters as he makes his way past her and down the hall, arrogantly comfortable in the new surroundings.

By the time Michaela has started regretting her decision of letting him in, she realizes it’s already too late so she shuts and relocks the door before following after him in the living room where she finds him already situated in the armchair like it’s his 100th time visiting. Hell, like he owns the place.

She takes the seat on the couch closest to him, not bothering to offer him any hospitality in the form of drinks and snacks. Such offer feels ridiculous under these circumstances. Speaking of ridiculous, the circumstances themselves are ridiculous - her biggest rival, and now one of her partners in crime is chilling in her living room with a smug look on his face.

“Karma’s gonna catch up to me, huh?“ He suddenly speaks up, reminding her yet again of how bad of an idea inviting him in was. “Yours caught up to you, you say. Though to me it seems like it beat and battered you too.“

Michaela’s never been a crier. In fact, she’s guilty of silently judging people she’s witnessed crying, thinking of them as weak and spineless. But here she is, fighting back tears at the memories she’d much rather forget.

“It did, but it had the opposite effect. I’m glad we ridded this world of a piece of scum like him. One less man who feels entitled to everything. Who feel free to take anything he wants anytime.“ Her throat feels dry as her eyes fill with tears despite her best attempts at holding them back, “Take a girl’s virginity, take her dignity, her safety, her life, take everything away from her. And all that when she’s most vulnerable and scared and helpless and...“

Her words come to an abrupt halt when she finds Connor has repositioned himself and is now sitting next to her on the couch, has turned to face her and has placed a reluctant hand on her shoulder, “Michaela, what happened to you?”

That’s when she breaks down for the fifth time today. Since that breakdown on the sidewalk on her way home, she’s found it infinitely harder to hold her tears back, keep her emotions at bay. So, instead of easting her energy holding back, she’s been wasting it sobbing into the comforter she had wrapped around herself like a safety cocoon until Connor rang the doorbell.

Instinctively more than intentionally, Connor wraps his arm around her shoulders as she tries to get a few words out in-between sobs, “This guy....h-he t-tried to....” she can’t even finish the sentence without the entire scene playing out in front of her eyes, causing her stomach to tighten and her sobs to grow louder. “But, I-I got away in time. But Connor, what if I d-didn’t? Oh God, what would’ve happened to me if I didn’t?”

“It’s ok, you’re ok now. You’re safe.“ He murmurs, pulling her closer until her head’s resting on his shoulder, “You’re ok. And don’t you ever think of it as karma, you hear me? You didn’t deserve that. No one deserves that. That was in no way your fault or your punishment. That guy’s gonna meet his punishment if I ever lay my eyes on him though, that’s for sure.“

“I-I didn’t see his face, i-it was too dark.“ She manages to say through the subsided sobbing that has now reduced to crying with the occasional sniffle. “I just heard his voice.” Despite having calmed down, she surprisingly doesn’t feel the need to pull away from Connor, create some distance between them. She doesn’t even dwell on how out of character this is for the both of them, nor does she dwell on the slightly off-putting thought that she’s actually glad to have him by her side. To have someone comforting and reassuring her that what happened is not a result of her own bad actions. That thought haunted her all night, preventing her from even thinking about falling asleep.

“Well, if you ever recognize his voice anywhere, you know you have three experienced killers and dismemberers you can contact to, you know, do the job.“ He says comfortingly, his tone light but still serious.

She can’t help but scoff, “One kill and you’re suddenly hitmen?”

Connor chuckles, “When someone messes with one of our own, we sure as hell are.”

That sentence feels like a bandage on one of Michaela’s many invisible wounds. That one of our own line fills that hole her loneliness drilled into her last night on that sidewalk when she felt so lost and alone and broken. When she felt she had no one to turn to and no one to seek comfort in.

Among the many things she saw, heard and learned, the most valuable lesson these past twenty four hours have taught Michaela is that after the darkest of nights still comes morning. A bright morning, a new beginning and a helping hand with it. A helping hand, a safe embrace and comforting words. Bonus lesson is that one can never guess where, or rather from who those three elements will be given. These two are a crystal clear example: never did Michaela think she’d find a helping hand, safe embrace and comforting words coming from Connor Walsh. But here they are.

It may be odd and it may be temporary, but she’s not complaining, he doesn’t appear to be doing so either.

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colderthancoldest · 4 years ago

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@flybi91 I LAUGHED OUT LOUD FOR LIKE A FULL MINUTE LMAO

She's not wrong tho

Here's my (softer) take:

Kisses

Synopsis: The Doctor's never understood why humans enjoy kissing so much- but that doesn't mean he's not willing to learn

10&Missy, fluff, soft kisses, ect

[I'll add an ao3 link at some point]

The Doctor was slowly getting used to being kissed. It wasn't a conscious decision he had made- to suddenly and inexplicably be so kissable- but once it began to happen the Doctor made no attempt to stop it.

He liked humans, and always had a natural curiosity about the human-y things they did. He liked to learn about them and their brilliant minds. He liked their adaptability and their inventions and their culture- and he saw kissing as simply an extension of that.

If a human kissed him, that meant they liked him. And while the Doctor didn't exactly understand the feeling that compelled them to do such a thing, he did enjoy the rush it gave him. It was nice, if not a little overwhelming at times, how freely humans expressed their affections- so the Doctor did his very best to reciprocate them as well.

It was strange, learning about such an intimate gesture from such abrupt experiences. Back home, kissing was an incredibly rare gesture. So rare, that the Doctor couldn't actually name a time he'd seen anyone do it. Usually the most intimate gesture of physical affection was hand holding or a forehead tap. Time Lords were physically linked, after all, so opening the gateway between minds was as intimate as any being could get. For two minds to become one was special in a way words couldn't do justice.

By his nature, the Doctor still preferred the gentle touch of hands to his face and another's forehead pressed to his rather than a rough kiss, but he was slowly learning. Slowly adapting the way humans did.

He was usually the one being kissed, in a quick 'thank you for saving my life' or 'we're probably going to die' kind of way, but he was working on learning how to respond. Human kisses were like a parallel branch of affection to the one he had grown up with. It was similar, a desire to be close, often with hands cupping his jaw, and the Doctor found it pleasant- and yet, despite his best efforts, it was never the same.

Human affection lacked the right flavor, and Gallifreyan affection was insufficient. Neither ever felt quite right.

At least- not until one night.

The Doctor had been out on the town, dropping ginger candies into his glass of water at a quiet, mostly empty bar, waiting hopelessly for them to dissolve. He was still staring at his untouched glass, patiently waiting for a drink that would take the edge off everything he was currently upset about, when a strange woman slid herself onto the stool next to him.

"Hello," she charmed him with a mysterious smile.

She ordered some elaborate drink and- like the Doctor- subsequently ignored her order.

"It's been a while, hasn't it?" she said smoothly but with a clear scottish accent to her words.

The Doctor scanned her over. She was naturally gorgeous, but overdressed in a playful kind of way. She had thick, dark brown hair that was combed up in a perfect bun atop her head and wore dark swipes of purple eyeshadow as if it was stage makeup.

She was dressed up, in an almost Victorian style, in a coat that puffed out at the shoulders and a long skirt that fell to her ankles. There was an umbrella over her arm and thick, tall boots with a slight heel on her feet.

The Doctor wondered how she could possibly navigate Earth dressed up in all that.

The candies were mostly dissolved in the Doctor's drink by now, enough that they might give him a hint of the buzz he was searching for, but this stranger was far more captivating. Anyone in their right mind would ignore their drink for her.

"Have we met?" the Doctor asked as he narrowed his eyes slightly.

It felt like they must've, but at the same time there was simply no way. He wouldn't have forgotten someone like her so easily.

"Not yet," the beautiful woman gave a soft but confident smile and fixed a single strand of her otherwise flawless hair.

She looked away before the Doctor could properly catch her eye in a way that looked... sad. She perked up a moment later, as if the glimpse of something darker had never been there at all.

"Would you be so kind as to walk me home?" the intriguing woman requested gently. "I need to be getting back, but I'd rather not go alone at this time of night."

The Doctor found himself immediately agreeing. He'd rather be doing anything other than wallowing in this old restaurant alone.

"My pleasure!" the Doctor nodded.

The woman slid far more cash than her drink cost across the counter and stepped down from the tall bar stool with almost surprising elegance.

The Doctor left his own seat as well, and the woman took his arm with hers in a manner nearly as outdated as the way she dressed. The Doctor walked her to the door, but it was clear that this stranger was leading the way.

There was something about her that the Doctor simply couldn't put his finger on. As the Doctor held the heavy door open for her, and they stepped out into the bright moonlight of the clear autumn evening, the Doctor still couldn't pinpoint what it was.

He never got a perfect look at the stranger's eyes as she looked about the clear night. The silver moonlight and auburn street lights mixed on the still-damp pavement from a brief rain earlier in the day. It was a gorgeous night, and so was this stranger, and the Doctor couldn't figure out what was so different about her.

He didn't see humans the way most humans saw each other. Their physical beauty was nothing to the gorgeousness of a brilliant mind in the Doctor's eyes, and still, he could see an incredible amount of both in this woman. The way she moved felt... hauntingly familiar.

But she remained blocked off from him, never letting him get a direct view of her face. The Doctor wondered why, but it would be impolite to press.

They walked quietly, peacefully, down the street.

Their leisurely stroll was over far too soon as they reached an apartment complex and the lady stopped in front of it.

"I should thank you," she smiled warmly to him.

"It's nothing. I've enjoyed your company," the Doctor found himself saying.

He swayed a little awkwardly and scratched the back of his neck sheepishly as the strange woman let go of his arm. The Doctor found himself missing the familiar warmth of her grasp.

He looked off at the ground in the distance, trying to put words to what exactly it was. He wanted her to stay for some strange reason. He wanted to talk to her, to learn more about her and why her company calmed him in a way he hadn't known in ages.

She was brilliant. He could see it written all over her and could feel it in her unyielding confidence. He wanted to walk around the whole city with her and debate philosophy and morality and recall the myths the constellations above were named after with her. He couldn't say why, but he knew she would have a wonderfully interesting perspective.

Before he could say anything, he felt the familiar feeling of hands to either side of his face and lips pressed to his. He felt her warm palms press against his skin in a way he thought had died along with his home planet. He felt lips press to his in just the right way he enjoyed by humans. The Doctor felt a rush of both an old, recognizable mental connection and the new, foreign physical reaction- both fit perfectly together through the stranger's gentle touch.

This lady, whoever she was, sent the perfect mix through the Doctor's systems in a way he'd never felt before. There was something in the perfect position of her hands that brought out something old and unmistakable from his youth, and yet something new that gave him a thrill from the kiss itself.

Furthermore, she did something different from anyone who had kissed the Doctor before. She pressed her face to his, her forehead and lips both against him, their noses getting in the way and still fitting against each other in the most perfect way.

It felt right- in a way that neither other gallifreyans nor humans had ever felt right to the Doctor.

The Doctor's eyes were still closed as he gasped for breath when the lady finally allowed him up for air. She kept her forehead to his and her hands at the Doctor's face in a wonderfully comforting way. The Doctor found his hands around the lady's forearms in a failing attempt to keep himself steady.

The Doctor lost himself in the moment.

"Hello," the woman chuckled, her warm breath hot against the Doctor's lips in the cold night air.

The Doctor's eyes slowly opened to stare into hers. They were a gorgeous shining brown in the moonlight.

"Who are you?" the Doctor finally thought to ask. He was still baffled and breathless, but something deep in his hearts felt strangely content.

The lady smirked pridefully.

"And ruin the surprise? I don't think so," she teased.

She gave him another soft kiss.

It didn't last nearly as long as the Doctor would have liked it too, but he was more than happy to receive it all the same.

She pulled him down even lower to her level, gave him one last peck on his forehead, and then let her warm hands fall away from his cheeks.

The Doctor had a hundred things to say, a thousand things to ask, but he let her slip away from his reach once she was done.

"I'll see you again, won't I?" the Doctor asked as the strange woman stepped away.

She spun on her heel with a smirk and looked at the Doctor's blatantly lovestruck expression over her shoulder. He was still breathless with blissed out eyes, shimming in the low streetlight nearby.

"Yes, you will," the strange woman smiled. "And there will be plenty more kisses in your future, don't you worry."

The Doctor breathed a weak, awestruck breath.

"Kisses like that?" he asked, with an air of hopefulness he hadn't meant to display so obviously.

The stranger smirked knowingly.

"Not at first, but we get plenty of time to practice," she promised enticingly.

The Doctor didn't quite know what to say to that.

"O... Okay," he simply breathed.

"I'll be seeing you, love," the stranger promised as she strolled off.

After hesitating a second to drag himself back to the real world, the Doctor followed after her. He was baffled yet again as he turned the same corner the stranger had- only to stare down an empty street.

There wasn't a single soul in sight.

The Doctor lifted his hand to his cheek to protect his own, still-warm skin against the cold night's breeze.

The Doctor was slowly getting used to being kissed.

He was learning about it and adapting to it as humans did.

He still couldn't say he quite understood it- but after a kiss like that, he was starting to understand its appeal.

#i love writing 10 and Missy <3 #doctor who fic #doctor who #thoschei #tenth doctor #gomez master #also idk how other people interpret 10 #but I think he's like demi/ace/something like that #so that's how I wrote him #so idk hopefully you like it #<3

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bluenet13 · 4 years ago

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Brothers

Second prompt for @badthingshappenbingo

Fandom: 9-1-1.

Characters: Evan Buckley, Eddie Diaz, Christopher Diaz.

Prompt: Big Brother Instinct.

Summary: Continuation to "Buck Begins." Revelations about his past and the actions of friends from the present teach Buck the real meaning of family and brotherly love. Or, after Buck has a bad day, Eddie and Christopher save the day.

Links: ff.net - AO3

Maddie and Chimney had insisted he stayed at their house for the night, but Buck had politely declined. He wanted to be alone, whether to wallow in his own misery or to try to gain some new perspective about the revelations about his life, he didn't know. He wasn’t even sure the two were mutually exclusive. But he just couldn’t see himself spending the night with anyone but himself. Coming face to face with Maddie was one thing, but spending the night at her house as if nothing had changed was above his current level of forgiveness.

So he had hugged his sister, asked if he could take the bag of mementos home, and walked out of the apartment as soon as she nodded. Not even waiting to wish Chimney a good night.

Now sitting alone in his car, in the parking lot of his apartment complex, his fingers trembled as he fumbled with the zipper of the bag. Drawing in a long breath, then blowing it out slowly, Buck decided this could wait until tomorrow. He told himself the parking lot around him was dark, the only light coming from a nearby street lamp, so he wouldn't be able to see anything anyway. But in reality, he just wanted to spend the night alone with a cold beer to stop his thoughts from wandering. So, with a grunt he got out of his car and gingerly walked to his building.

His simple plan however, came crashing down as soon as he reached the front steps. Sighing, Buck closed his eyes and wished he hadn’t gotten out of the car.

"Uncle Buck!" Christopher practically bounced off the steps as soon as he saw him, his little body crashing with Buck's legs a second later. "I missed you."

Barely able to suppress a whimper, Buck stumbled before he was able to gain his footing and kneel down in front of the boy. "Hi Chris,” he said, half-forcing a smile on his face, while he also did his best to ignore the adult now standing next to his son. This unexpected visit wasn't Christopher's fault. "I missed you too, buddy. Sorry work's been keeping me busy." He didn’t like to lie to Chris, but he couldn’t as well say what had really been keeping him busy.

"It’s okay, Buck. Daddy told me your parents came to visit. And my dad is always busy too when my abuela comes from Texas," Chris said simply.

Drawing back away from Christopher, Buck turned to look at Eddie. A shadow crossed Buck's eyes and Eddie just slightly shook his head as a response. He hadn’t shared anything else with Chris.

"What brings you guys here?" Buck wondered after the silence around them had become oppressive. "Isn't it a little late for a visit on a school night?" He hoped he wasn't sounding rude, for Chris' sake that is, with Eddie he would need to have a few choice words next time they were alone.

"There's an errand I need to run before work tomorrow, so I was hoping Chris could spend the night here before you drop him at school in the morning?" Eddie asked quickly, his eyes looking at anything but Buck.

Silence seemed to stretch around the three men. Christopher waited expectantly, his hand still on Buck's leg, even as the man rose to his feet and stared at Eddie with raised eyebrows.

For his part, Eddie did his best to look as innocent as possible, offering no additional words until the silence stretched for too long and he saw his son's smile turn into an uncertain frown. "If you're still busy with your guests, I can just call Hen or Chimney. Chris always says you're his favorite and must fun uncle, but I'm sure he understands. Right, Chris?" Eddie added eventually, the ex-Army Medic not missing a beat.

"Sure, Chris. You can stay with me," Buck said at the same time as Christopher nodded his agreement with his father. The boy's frown had turned into a sad smile, and just as quickly into a full on grin.

"Thanks, uncle Buck." Chris practically shouted, his bright, grey eyes shining even more than usual. "Daddy, can I have the keys to get my backpack?"

Buck hadn’t missed how Eddie was trying to avoid his gaze and he had to stop himself from asking what type of errand was so sudden. Eddie usually gave him a few days warning when he needed him to babysit Chris, unless it was some sort of emergency. Buck wouldn’t argue that most often than not he was a dumbass, but not as much as to not be able to read his best friend’s intentions. But Chris had already lost his mother and Buck didn't want him to think he wasn't wanted here, so he didn't say anything else and just bid his time. Turned out luck was on his side and he would be able to rip Eddie a new one right here and now.

But Edmundo Diaz was always a step ahead, so he put an innocent smile on his face and turned towards his car. "I can do it for you, Chris. You can stay here with uncle Buck. I will be right back."

Buck glared at his teammate, but Eddie still wasn't looking directly at him. So instead he grabbed Chris' hand and led him to the front steps. Sitting down as he asked Chris how school was going.

Eddie came back in the middle of Christopher's very excited and detailed explanation of the upcoming science fair. And how he was working on a presentation about climate change and natural disasters. Not like most kids who wanted something easy and chose a volcano, instead talking all about how his daddy had fought tsunamis, and mudslides, and even traveled back home to Texas to fight a real wildfire. If Buck hadn’t been there, he would have thought Eddie had grown wings and the magical ability to bend the elements, cause Chris' voice was full of awe and admiration, as if he was talking about Iron Man himself. But Buck guessed Christopher was right and they were all superheroes in their own way.

"Here you go, Chris. I will leave you to Buck so you can continue telling him all about your project." Eddie kneeled down, hugging his son after helping him with the straps of his backpack. "I will see you after shift tomorrow."

"Bendicion, daddy," Chris said in practiced ease.

"Dios te bendiga." Eddie kissed his son's disheveled locks and turned back towards his car.

Buck had been around the Diaz men enough to understand they were sharing both a blessing and a farewell. A wishful smile escaped his lips as he silently wondered what it would have been to share that type of relationship with his parents. And if maybe Daniel had, before everything had gone to hell.

Fingers wrapping around his own drew Buck back to the present and he looked down to find an expectant Chris staring back at him. His eyes settled on the boy for a minute, and not for the first time he marveled at Christopher's strength and cheerfulness, considering all he had been through in his short life. And again, not for the first time, he wished he could be more like him.

Looking back to the parking lot around him, Buck sighed as he saw that Eddie's car was gone. So he turned back to Chris and smiled. "Ready, buddy? Maybe we can play some rounds before we go to bed. How does that sound?"

Christopher nodded repeatedly, his hand tugging at Buck's as he pulled them both towards the door.

-x-x-x-

"Buck, can I have a cookie?" Christopher's voice came from beside him and Buck jumped slightly as if suddenly being woken up from a dream. Another grunt escaping his lips as the movement jarred his tender side. The doctors had given him a clean bill of health, but the fire had still caused a minor burn and his side was bruised from his hard landing during the explosion.

Turning his eyes to the tv, Buck grimaced seeing the score. He wished he could blame it on being distracted but Chris was just that good. Turning to the boy in question, Christopher's hopeful look reminded Buck of his question. Shaking his head to clear more unwanted thoughts, Buck set his controller down and raised from the couch. "Of course, Chris. But only one," Buck said easily, a faint smile gracing his lips as he remembered the one time he had ignored Eddie's warnings, giving Chris half a box of cookies, then regretting his decision with a passion as the boy had been on a sugar rush until three in the morning.

Walking into the kitchen, Buck went to the cupboard he had prepared for Chris once it had become a common occurrence for the boy to spend the night at his house. Peanut butter, grape jelly, Cheez-It crackers, and other snacks occupying every available inch of the small space. And at the back, the box of cookies he had come searching for.

Last Christmas, Chris had spent a Saturday at his house while Eddie secretly went shopping for presents. After dinner, Buck had offered Chris a white fudge covered Oreo and the boy had loved it. The previous morning, Buck had rushed to three grocery stores trying to find more boxes of the Holiday Edition cookies. Now he made a point to only eat them with Chris and it had become their special treat.

Tonight as he opened the box to grab two cookies and then walked back to his living room, Buck absentmindedly wondered if Daniel had been an Oreo guy, or if maybe he had preferred Chips Ahoy!, or something else entirely.

"Here you go," Buck said, moving closer to Chris and setting the cookie and a glass of milk in front of him. He then sat back down on his side of the couch and sadly stared at his own Oreo.

"Thank you, uncle Buck," Chris said cheerfully, instantly reaching for the fudge covered delicacy. "One more round?" He asked innocently.

"Yeah…" Buck knew he should have said no, but selfishly, he welcomed the distraction and dreaded the moment he would again be alone with his thoughts. He hated to admit Eddie’s instincts had been spot-on and Christopher had been the right kind of distraction he needed that night. A 6 pack would have been less of a compromise but also a lot more destructive.

One round then turned into three, Chris' eyes beginning to close by the end of it, before a barely suppressed sniff woke him up. Pausing the game, he turned to his right with inquisitive eyes. "Are you okay, Evan? Why are you crying?" He asked, his voice barely above a whisper. His small hand moving to rest on Buck's knee.

Buck had been playing video games for years so the motion had become automatic even as his mind was a million miles away. Upon hearing Chris’ question, he shook his head, and for the first time noticed the blur of tears on his eyes. His fingers had continued to press the bottoms on the controller, following the game, but his mind had drifted back to Daniel as Buck wondered what it could have been like growing up with an older brother. One that introduced him to new games and fought the hard boss battles for him. Maddie had been great, but circumstances had turned her into more of a mother figure than a sister, and at that moment, Buck considered that he hadn’t just missed out on growing up with a big brother, but a real sister as well.

"Evan?" Christopher asked again, his eyes looking worried as the boy wondered if he should call his father.

Closing his eyes, and taking in a deep breath, Buck released it slowly as his eyes opened again. "Sorry, Chris. I'm alright. Didn't mean to worry you." Using the sleeve of his LAFD hoodie, Buck wiped the tears from his face and willed them to stop coming. "I just got some bad news recently."

Christopher nodded and moved to hug Buck, a steady hand drawing comforting circles on the firefighter's back, his head resting on his shoulder.

The pair stayed like that for a few minutes, until Buck pulled back, and just stared at Christopher. With a smile, Buck fixed Chris' glasses which had become crooked after the impromptu hug, then moved his hand to the boy's disheveled curls. "Thank you, Chris."

"You're welcome, Evan. When I got bad news about my mommy, all I wanted was a hug…” Chris began to explain awkwardly, his feet shuffling on the spot. “Just thought it could help you too." He finished matter-of-factly, even though no explanation was ever really necessary for such a declaration of affection.

Buck smiled and ruffled Chris' hair. "You're a very smart boy, do you know that?"

"My daddy says I'm too smart for my own good," Chris said simply, then scrunched his face. "I’m not sure I understand what that means, but daddy says it a lot."

Buck couldn’t help the chuckle that escaped him. "You will know soon enough, buddy. Don't worry about it. Now time to go to bed."

"Okay, Evan." Chris agreed easily, turning the game off as he stood to follow Buck. Then something came to him and he lifted his hand to stop Buck’s progress. “Wait here,” he said before he moved to the kitchen, coming back a few minutes later with an ice pack in his hand. Without saying anything else he carefully pressed it to Buck’s injured side and used his other hand to move Buck’s to hold it in place.

Buck sighed as soon as the cold began to alleviate the throbbing on his side, then raised his eyebrows in a silent question.

Chris shrugged. “Daddy never wants to use it, but I have learned to notice when he needs one.” He explained shily, looking up at Buck from under his glasses.

Buck smiled sheepishly, wondering who needed the other more, Christopher or Eddie. But who was he kidding, he needed the both of them even more. “Thanks bud. Now let's go.”

Fifteen minutes later, teeth brushed and pajamas on, Christopher was lying comfortably in Buck's guest room. "Good night, Evan. Thank you for letting me stay tonight."

"Thank you, Chris," Buck said emotionally, before a sudden thought occurred to him. "You never really call me Evan. Why now?"

"When my daddy and I have a serious conversation, he always calls me Christopher, and often when I overhear him talking to abuela, she calls him Edmundo. So Evan made sense for our serious talk. I..." Chris explained simply, the rest of his sentence ending in a yawn as his eyes finally closed and his breathing evened out.

Too smart for his own good, indeed. Buck thought to himself as he turned off the lights and walked out of the room with a sincere smile on his face. Chris’ ice pack still tightly pressed to his side.

Maybe life had taken a brother away, but fate had gifted him a teammate that had turned into an older brother and it had only taken a night with his nephew to remember. Eddie would never replace what Daniel could have been but Buck was still infinitely grateful to have him in his life.

-x-x-x-

The next morning Buck woke up feeling lighter than the days before.

After taking a quick shower, he went to his guest bedroom and woke Chris up, then made his way to the kitchen. By the time the boy sat down at the kitchen table, showered, dressed and ready for school, Buck already had two plates of eggs and toast ready for them. The two then ate in comfortable silence until Chris reached down to his pocket and slid his hand towards Buck. Setting two pills on the table and a tube of antibiotic cream. A determined and proud smile on his face.

Buck returned the smile and downed the two pills, but waited until he was alone to apply the cream. Chris didn’t need to see his wound, as minor as the burn had been, and worry about the same thing, or worse, happening to his dad.

When Chris went back to his room to pick up his school supplies, Buck did quick work of rubbing the cream and redressing the wound, then took it to his bathroom cabinet, where Chris had most likely taken it from. Or at least that’s what he thought. If he was being honest with himself, it had been quite a while since he last used it. Not that there hadn’t been injuries in between…

During the drive to school Chris resumed his conversation about the science fair, and Buck offered to help him finish his presentation this weekend. Chris gladly agreed and offered Buck to be a part of the stories he would share. After all, every superhero needed a sidekick.

Buck had to bite his lip not to argue that last statement, feeling lucky just to be included.

“Goodbye, uncle Buck.” Chris then said when Buck parked in front of his school. “I will see you this weekend.”

“Bye, buddy. Have a good day.” Buck replied with a smile, and, only when Chris had closed the door and was walking to the school’s front doors, he added to himself, And thank you. As it turned out, it wasn’t only Eddie who had good instincts.

-x-x-x-

Parking in his usual spot and walking towards LAFD Station 118, Buck could see Eddie standing at the front of the apparatus bay. His feet shuffling nervously, much like Christopher did when he was nervous.

“Morning,” Buck said as he came to stand next to his best friend.

“About last night, I can explain.” The words began rushing out of Eddie as soon as he parted his lips. “I didn’t mean to ambush you. Or well, I did. But...”

Lifting his hand in a placating gesture, Buck shook his head, then moved his arm over Eddie’s shoulder, engulfing him in an awkward side hug. “No need to explain. Thank you.”

“So it went well?” Eddie asked, feigning surprise.

“Better than well,” Buck admitted. “You’re one lucky dad, Christopher is a great kid.”

“We’re both lucky. And not only because we have each other,” Eddie said in a rare display of affection, his arm going over the shoulder of the best friend that had become his little brother.

Side-by-side Buck and Eddie then walked home.

Evan Buckley had been born a savior sibling, and even if life had made it that he couldn't save Daniel, that didn't mean he hadn’t saved many others along the way. And however broken his past was, it had led him here.

It also meant that now he had a big brother looking down on him from heaven, and one standing right by his side.

#911 #911 fanfiction #buck begins #bad things happen bingo #evan buckley #eddie diaz #christopher diaz #9-1-1

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xaysnotebook · 4 years ago

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Chapter 1 - Behind Colored Eyes

“I told you it was pointless to even try to study for that test! It was made to screw over your final grade.”

“I know, but at least we got a passing grade, almost everyone failed besides us.” Alex replied, pacing unevenly. The psychology final was played as the hardest final outside of the math department, and they had been one of the few students to get a passing grade. The only cost of this is that they skipped out on work for a couple days and stayed awake for possibly a little too long.

“Well, I know you’re hungry, how about that new restaurant down by Semia’s house? It’s some Italian place I think.”

“I would love to, but you know I can't afford it, and I am not asking for money again.” Alex was already in debt because of college, they also had a personal debt to their parents for more than a month of rent and food bills.

“If you say so, you could always dip into your savings again. You need a little bit of a pick-me-up. You could always talk to Sandra.” That last comment made Alex stop in their tracks, their gray eyes almost glazing over with anger. “Alright, that was too far I already know. I’ll leave you alone for a bit.”

“Damn, Jason.” Alex thought out loud, earning him a questioning glance from a couple walking nearby. Jason was good to keep around for simple conversation, but he was definitely able to turn rude quickly. Alex started back towards the apartment, feeling slightly more lonely than before, but nothing they weren't used to. They were a generally lonely person for multiple reasons, but any time they got left, it felt a bit worse.

Alex was a scrawny but tall person, standing at about six foot two while actually standing up straight. They had a mess of blue hair that was starting to fade from being in the sun too often. With a smaller nose and piercing gray eyes, they had been compared to a blue raven before, actually being called Raven by some coworkers and friends. They were also born a male, but had chosen to live by the “they” pronouns when they were around seventeen, being easily passable for both genders and drifting around on what they felt like on a minute to minute basis. Now they were almost twenty-one, and already knew it was going to be another bland birthday, most likely spent with Tasha.

As they walked up to their apartment building, they heard the sound of loud music playing and quickly assumed it was Tasha. However there was a distinct feeling that they were being watched. After glancing about, they noticed a peculiar pair of yellow eyes staring through a set of blinds. For obvious reasons they were taken aback and quickly scurried to the front door of the apartment complex. After going inside, they made a wide path around the strange apartment and got to their own. From the door, it was clear that Tasha was blaring some assortment of rap music, and easily loud enough that they would get a noise complaint later for it. Pushing through the front, Alex found the living room in tatters, the dining room full and random cups leftover, and a clearly hung over Tasha sleeping on the kitchen floor. After turning off the music, Alex walked over to the fridge, nudging Tasha with their foot on the way only to hear a slight grunt. How anyone could sleep with that loud music playing, on a cold floor was beyond Alex, but they knew Tasha was used to it by now. She was in her last semester, graduating with two majors and a minor in only four years, something that would take most people at least eight.

Tasha was the type of person that was born hyper-intelligent, and hated every minute of it. As such, she rebelled by being a straight A student, with an insane party life. She was a chubby Native American girl with long black hair that was almost always braided, bright green eyes, and a large birthmark across her left eye. When Alex had first met her, they had seemed like polar opposites, and almost resented each other. Then they were put as roommates in their first year, and before Christmas break had become best friends, almost inseparable.

“Tasha, wake up, You need to eat something before noon.” Alex whispered as they bent over to shake her awake. “I ate before I drank. I think I’ll live, Alex.” Tasha muttered sleepily, trying to cover herself with aluminum foil.

“Yes, but you also have a test at three to finish your mathematics major, and you need to need to finish your project with Janet.” Janet had made extra sure to yell at Alex before they left campus.

“Ugh, fine,” Tasha said groggily as she rolled over to face Alex, her eyes still blurry from exhaustion, “but only if we can go to the coffee shop. I need my fix!”

“Then let’s go and get your drugs, but you’re buying this time!” Alex said, feeling that all too familiar shift in balance within themself, almost like a subtle knock on the back of their head.

“Two large chai lattes please!” Alex chimed to the barista.

“Seven thirty-four please.” She responded in a monotone manner, “Thank you, name?”

“Alex, and could you put a smiley face under it?” Alex responded hopefully.

“Sure, hon.” She said, a slight smile beginning to creep onto her face.

“Thank you!” Alex beamed. They made their way towards the table that Tasha was sitting at, suddenly remembering that it was supposed to be her turn to pay for the drinks. “Weren’t you supposed to pay this time?” they commented after sitting down. Tasha was staring off absentmindedly, vaguely tracing mathematical equations on the table with her finger. “Hey Spacey! Whatcha thinking about?”

Snapping back to reality, she slyly commented “The probability that they’ll mess up on our lattes yet again. I mean how hard is it to make regular chai lattes?”

“Hey relax! I sweet talked the barista, we should be good for today!” Alex’s definition of “sweet talking” was rather loose, but it always seemed to work out for them.

“Well thank you, you massive flirt.” Tasha chuckled as she eyed him lazily, “You know, you’ve been single since the end of freshman year. Aren’t you lonely?”

“I mean yeah, I’m always yet never lonely. You know how my head works better than anyone else. And besides, why would I need another best friend when I have you?” Alex responded, half heartedly flirting. The two had actually been close to dating once, but had decided against it and to remain best friends. At the point they were at in their friendship, it would either fail miserably or go perfectly, and neither of them were willing to risk everything that they had been through.

“Yeah, but we both know that you..”

“Alex!” Cried the barista, “With two smiley faces!”

“I’ll go grab those for us.” Tasha said as she stood. As she walked away, Alex had a familiar sensation of being watched. Scanning the room, they didn’t notice anyone looking at them besides Tasha as she was walking back.

Then they glanced at the barista. Those same piercing yellow eyes, seeming to attack their very soul. Her eyes suddenly went back to a dull brown color and she shook her head clear, seemingly losing a couple inches of height before going to the next customer in line. “Did you see her eyes?” Alex stammered out while they slightly shook in panic.

Tasha sat down and eyed them curiously, “What? That lady’s? No? Why do you look so scared suddenly?” She peered at him strangely, like an owner looking at a scared puppy.

“I swear, she had bright yellow eyes for a few seconds! Then they were suddenly normal again? You really didn’t see them when you walked up to her?” Alex’s mind was racing at this point, could they be finally breaking apart? They had been warned stability would only last so long, but it has only been a couple years, it was too soon.

“Hey, Alex. Look at me.” Tasha said, grabbing their hand gently, “Is it getting bad again? Do we need to go?”

“I don’t know, this isn’t how it was last time, not anything like this.” Alex’s voice was getting shaky, they were slowly slipping into a panic attack and were trying their hardest to avoid it as long as they could.

“I know what we saw, that bitch had yellow eyes. You can’t be getting bad again, I saw that.”

Alex shuddered slightly, “Well thank you Jason.” they said, not being sure whether to calm down since they weren’t crazy yet, or panic because a human just had bright yellow, almost snake like eyes.

“What’d he say?” Tasha questioned.

“He saw the eyes too I guess that means either we’re both going crazy, or she actually had yellow eyes.” Alex breathed out heavily, “It could be sleep loss, but that doesn’t usually affect everyone until after days of not sleeping. I’ve only been awake for maybe thirty hours at this point?”

“Okay, home or therapist?”

“Home. Joz is out of town this week for a seminar.” Alex breathed out shakily, still trying to sip coffee that was clearly too hot.

“Then come on, Joz will wait until she's back. And give me your keys, you’re in no state to drive.”

“I’ve driven while worse, but if you insist.” They would have refused to admit it, but they were truly terrified and most likely couldn’t even walk straight, let alone drive home.

After five minutes that seemed to last for an eternity, the two got back to the apartment complex and started heading towards the front door. Tasha glanced over and noticed Alex was watching a specific window very intently, “Why are you watching Ms. Higgans window? Expecting a ghost to come out?” she asked jokingly, attempting to lighten the mood. The only response that Alex provided was a vague murmur about yellow eyes. Tasha had seen Alex during bad breakdowns before, ranging from a light panic attack over tests to a complete meltdown where they had almost jumped out of a window. However, this was a new reaction, Alex was fully conscious but was unable to process much of anything really, almost like a breakdown, but without tears or hyperventilating or yelling or really any bad behaviour. As they walked inside the front door, Alex suddenly stopped directly outside of Ms. Higgans door. “Alex? What’s going on?” As she turned around, she stepped back in fear. Alex’s generally steel gray eyes had turned a deep violet, glowing and pulsating slowly.

#novel #art #my writing #dissociative identity disorder #did #nonbinary

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mo-mo-and-porkchop · 4 years ago

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42. "This isnt going to have a happy ending" (Seven)

@youbloodymadgenius

(Sorry this took so long.)

[Ala Alice in borderland on Netflix. ]

Oscar stared at the ceiling of his latest dwelling - a small, studio apartment no bigger than a hotel room. A fan whirled quietly, pushing a small breeze throughout the space. He let his eyes drift to the singular window and out to the roadways and parking lots the complex surrounded. Thin walls allowed him to hear everything his neighbors went through, day in and day out. Drab colors covered the walls making the space even more depressing.

What a shithole.

However it wasn't the worst place work had sent him over the years. Given his station in life he had been required to live in some of the shadier places on Earth. Being a hired hand for the most powerful players meant you went where they sent you. No questions. If he had known his experience in spec ops would turn him into a glorified errand boy he would never have replied to his recruitment.

They're lucky they pay so well.

He sat up with a sigh and forced himself from the futon. A female living to his right was on the phone with, whom he could only assume was a friend, complaining about her most recent bout of dieting. Her cat ate better than she did according to her.

Oscar shuffled to his small bathroom and splashed cool water across his face. He'd been there a month already and his target had yet to show up. He huffed silently to himself. He tried to warn the powers that be to move on from their obsession. After the doctor's botched experiments, they turned all of their attention to a nobody, twenty something.

A fucking kid.

As he dried his face two male voices drifted through his walls, catching his attention. They stood just down the hall and were easily heard. He listened as they discussed benign details of their day and, judging by their voices, they were 409 and 411.

Buzz. Buzz.

He glanced into his apartment at a small kitchen table that doubled as a nightstand. His phone lit up before buzzing once more indicating a text had come through. He tossed the towel onto the edge of the sink and went for his phone.

He swiped up and unlocked his phone to see a picture of Dahlia smiling brightly on the beach. Followed by the question:

[sms: jealous?]

A soft smile tugged at his lips when he saw it was his sister. And yes, he was jealous. He huffed quietly and sent a picture of his current view.

[sms: not really]

[sms: stop bragging] was her reply.

A hard, loud series of knocks at his door pulled him from his phone with a slight start. He wasn't expecting anyone. No one knew he was there, save his sister. And his 'boss' never frequent his residences. They did all their business virtually. The less connected they were physically the better.

The knocking repeated itself and he went to check his doorbell camera. Oddly no one stood there. The hall was empty. Silence began to creep in from all around. Then all power crashed.

All power.

The lights, the camera, the ac, the hall lights. Everything electronic had gone down. Not even his phone was working.

'What the hell?' he asked no one as he tapped the screen and shook it a little.

He wasn't sure what he hoped would have happened by doing it. It was like blowing on the game system when the cartridge didn't work - useless, but somehow hopeful. When nothing else worked he carefully opened his door, peeking through the hall. His unknown knocker was still at large.

Seeing that things were all clear, he went to neighbor's and knocked. Maybe they knew more about what happened. Silence followed. He waited a minute and tried again. Still nothing.

"Hello?" he called through her door.

He knew she was in there. She'd just been bitching to her cat, jealous of his superior meal plan.

"I'm from 408."

Silence.

Odd, but maybe she was cautious of unknown males. Although neighbors they knew neither beyond a simple greeting in passing. Something that happened rarely since he'd arrived.

He left her door and went to his other neighbor's. Repeating the same process, resulting in the same response.

His heart began to race as each and every door on his floor resulted in nothing more than silence. He seemed to be the only person there which was impossible. He rushed down the stairs and to the lobby, finding it eerily empty.

"Hey!" he called throughout the lobby as he searched for someone, anyone. "Hello?!"

Oscar left his complex and headed for the streets - which he found littered with abandoned cars and deserted.

What the fuck?!

"Hey!" he yelled louder, darting from car to car, his search still coming up empty.

At this point it felt as if his heart would break through his chest it was beating so hard. His mind raced. Panic was not something he was used and he handled it very poorly. The only one who was ever able to calm him on the rare occassions it did hit was his sister.

He pulled his phone out of his pocket and stared at the black screen. It still wasn't working. He glanced around to try and find his bearings and noticed something.

The marquees had gone black. the street lights were out. Even the cars wouldn't start. Everything electronic was down. Like an EMP had hit, rendering it all useless. But that didn't account for the lack of people. Oscar had no idea what could have caused that since he remained. His mind went to the only explanation he could think of.

This was hell.

But he didn't remember dying. He'd been in his apartment minding his own business. The knocking was the last sound he heard. Not a gun shot or explosion. Just loud, hard knocking.

A month had gone by. In that time he'd searched nearly every part of the city and found nothing. No one. Each building was just as empty as the last. He scavenged supplies as needed and continued searching for anything to explain away this very real feeling delusion.

Suddenly a small tv screen lit up nearby - a lone light in the darkness. He squinted to see it clearer as he neared.

'Game arena this way.'

Game arena? What the hell?

A large arrow pointed to the right and looked where it pointed. As if on cue, a spotlight shown into the sky, illuminating a building a few blocks away. A glance between his phone, which still wasn't working, and the screen was all he took before heading where directed. This was the only thing different to happen since arriving.

He came to an apartment building slightly smaller than his. It too was dark save for the spotlights and some emergency lights running on a gas powered backup generator. It was just as abandoned as the rest of the city.

Cautiously he entered the building. He'd been through a lot of shit in his day, but this was eerier than hell. The silence was nearly driving him mad. Nevertheless he made his way through the hall, arrows leading the way. He finally came to the end of the hallway. A small table with cell phones and an elevator were all that greeted him. The elevator was down and the phones were off, just like the rest of the city.

Great. More nothing.

He tried the nearby doors and found them all locked. He left to backtrack out when he finally ran into others. Instinctively he grabbed one up and held him against the wall, holding his hand out to keep the others at bay.

"What the hell is going on? Who are you?" he asked glancing between the three of them.

They remained silent, but by the looks of thing he wasn't going to get any answers from them. He could almost smell their fear. Once Oscar actually took the time to actually see them he realized he'd overreacted. They were young men. In their mid twenties at best. Kids. He was an ex military turned merc who had done a great job of staying fit. He must have looked like a monster to them. He relaxed his grip and held up both hands in apology, taking a small step backward, keeping them all in his sights.

"Sorry. You're the first people I've found since...getting here and I thought you might have been responsible for whatever is going on," he explained.

They silently shook their heads once they were able to overcome their surge of fear. "We are just as lost as you," one of them said.

He looked at the three of them, studying their body language - which told they were being truthful.

"Do you know what is going on?" a second one asked when the silence became too much for him.

Oscar simply gave him a look to convey how stupid he thought that question was considering their initial meeting.

"Right. Sorry," he said sheepishly.

"We don't know anything," the first one admitted. "We were goofing off and then everything disappeared. It wasn't until dark that we were showed the way here."

Oscar nodded slightly. Aside from the length of time they were here, it was the same as him. "I've been here a month if my count is correct and haven't found shit. Except you guys," he said glancing between them.

The one with the stupid question took a few steps, peeking around the corner. He saw the elevator and table full of phones. His demeanor seemed a bit more hopeful at the sight. "There are phones down here," he said to his friends before taking off for them.

"They don't work," Oscar called out, but the other two had already rushed to join their friend.

When they picked them up the screens woke up. Their faces were scanned and a woman's voice came through - explaining registration was closed in five minutes and the number of participants, which as of now was the three of them.

"What the fuck?" Oscar said picking up a fourth phone. It scanned his face and replayed the same message. "These weren't working when I found them," he said more to himself.

Before they could discuss the recent turn of events a woman emerged from around the corner. She was dressed in business casual attire and looked vastly out of place. She calmly walked toward them and picked up a phone, repeating the process as the rest. This time however the registration time had gone down by two minutes.

"What does that even mean?" the third guy asked when he heard her message. "Registration?"

"Its a game," the woman said, breaking her silence.

"Game? What do you mean game?"

Without a word she pulled out some kind of ID badge and threw it down the hall. They all watched as a lazer shot out and precisely hit the tiny card.

"Once you cross the barrier you have now choice but to play."

"What game?!" the first guy asked again, frustration and worry in his voice.

"We are all in this game," she began to explain. "Each one is different and if you don't complete their tasks you die."

"Their?" Oscar asked.

She shrugged her shoulders "Whoever is running it."

A second girl showed up and when she saw the groups of them she rushed forward, happy to find other humans. The trio of guys tried to stop her, but it was too late and she'd crossed the threshold. Quietly Oscar handed her a phone. After scanning her face the voice rang out that registration was closed and there were six participants. It continued stating the game's name - Dead or Alive - the difficulty - three of clubs, whatever the hell that meant - and the one and only rule:

Pick the right door and exit within the time limit.

Just then the elevator door opened with a sign on it's back wall simply stating 'Start'.

Oscar sighed and quietly told himself "This isn't going to have a happy ending" before heading inside it with the others.

#youbloodymadgenius #alice in borderland #fanfic #fan fiction #fiction #writing #fanfiction #fan fic #original character #canon character #indie #tom hardy

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ohdearhiddles · 4 years ago

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SUMMARY: You grew up thinking everything about you was normal, but found that this wasn’t the case. One night, you discover that the normal life you had lived up until then was something of the past because every man you kissed since you turned 16 met a mysterious fate - death. While the world pegs you as a cold-blooded bachelor killer called the “Angel of Death,” you catch the eye of a raven-haired man in an equally black suit.

TITLE: Angel of Death

CHAPTER: 1/?

PAIRING: Loki x Fem!Reader

WORD COUNT: 3501

AUTHOR NOTES/WARNINGS: mentions of death; hello, hello! I came up with this idea really randomly, and I suddenly had an urge to write about Loki... and this happened. It's going to be a very short multi-chapter read - maybe 2 or 3 chapters. I'd put it all on one chapter but it didn't seem right to cram it all in one go. So, here I am with my tiny short story. I hope you guys like it! (AO3 link)

“Last night, another gentleman was found dead in his apartment. Local authorities cannot confirm the cause of death. However, it is believed that this may be connected to a string of mysterious deaths within this very city . Stacy, what do you have to say about your take on this potential serial killer in our midst?” The news anchor spoke loudly, his voice bouncing off of the walls of the small apartment. The television screen panned to a young woman in a lavender blouse, her small hands wrapped around the microphone with her company’s logo displayed on it. She was standing outside of an apartment complex that was bustling with men in dark blue jackets with the letters “FBI” sprawled on the back.

Seemingly unfazed, she spoke, “Sources say that the man was alone at the time of his death, but something tells me that he may have been on a date with our city’s Angel, Frank. There’s no trace of anyone in his apartment and locals are beginning to think he was ‘kissed by Death’s fate’ as they’ve been putting it.”

The news anchor now began to share the screen with the young woman, a joking look on his face even with the current circumstances, “Well, gentlemen out there, watch your backs. We’ve got an Angel of Death loose in our city. Who knows who’ll be next.”

Static filled the screen as the channel changed. You weren’t meant to be watching these kinds of things, not when you already had your suspicions on who the culprit was. Every fear that was within you overflowed, creating an abyss of darkness at your feet. The deceased - the man who was kissed by fate - he was kissed by you.

***

Two years had passed you by since the night all the dots had all connected, forming a big arrow pointed in your direction. It had been two years since you vowed to be alone forever because, no matter what you did, that’s exactly what would happen. If you so much as touched a man with your lips, he dropped dead by the end of the season. You didn’t test this theory, but after you had witnessed a man who had only received a kiss to the cheek being wheeled into the hospital, you didn’t dare try anything else.

An “Angel of Death” they called you. You were described as an angel of misery and destruction, seducing souls with promises of love in order to drag their spirits from their bodies until they were but empty capsules never to move again. It was harsh. The way they described you was harsh, but after you had watched multiple men meet their end, you didn’t see the point in arguing with the description that seemed to be more real than anything else you had tried to come up with.

You were Death in a human’s body. Human. Could you even call yourself that?

The guilt hidden behind every kiss you had administered to others was packed away, pushed into suitcases of repressed emotions that you had readily placed by your door. There was no use in crying over something you hadn’t even thought to be possible until the news proved you wrong. You couldn’t turn yourself in for being a murderer when they would just lock you up and probably run tests on you in order to make some zombie bride war ally. So, you sat. You sat under maple trees, and you sat under stars. You sat and waited for your life to end, waiting for your own Angel of Death to come grab your hand.

***

It was an autumn day. The sky was clear, people were laughing, and your supposed reign of terror on the city was something of the past. Six years had passed since your first kiss of death, and now the news was far too intrigued by aliens invading the city than they were ever intrigued by you. You held a book in your hand as you sat on the park bench, fingers tapping away at the edges as you tried to focus on the words. There was something distracting you. No, not something - someone.

A man sat on the opposite side of you. His hand held an older looking piece of literature, and for the first time in years, you were curious. You were curious about why this man was wearing an all-black suit when the sun was shining so brightly, and you were curious as to what he was reading. Why were his eyebrows furrowed? Was he deep in thought or simply trying to concentrate on the book with all the noise around?

Before you knew it, you were much more interested in analyzing the man than you were in reading your book. You watched as his raven-colored hair glistened in the sunlight, and you wondered if he needed a hat to cool down. His long fingers stroked each page tenderly as he went line by line, and when he was about to turn a page, he would lick the tip of his finger before doing so. The man’s legs were long, slender, and crossed neatly over one another while he sat.

As you watched him intently, you came to an important conclusion: no matter how you looked at him, he was beautiful.

An eternity could have passed you by, and you would have passed peacefully with the amazing view in front of you. But it wasn’t complete without knowing the beauty his eyes might hold. You wanted to see what treasures he hid within them, what secrets you could discover, and right as you thought about it, he looked up.

Your eyes widened as they met his. A small smirk played on the corner of his lips, eyes glistening with an emotion you couldn’t quite make out. Unable to look away, the both of you sat in silence, gazing at the other intently. His eyes analyzed every inch of you, making you feel incredibly self conscious. It was as if he was looking into your soul.

Just like that, though, he was gone. The man stood to his feet, the book in his hand shutting with a subtle clap, and he began walking. His eyes didn’t follow yours nor did he bother looking back, and when he didn’t even smile your way, you hastily gathered your things to go in the opposite direction.

***

You gripped your book tightly in your hand, silently cursing as you walked towards your usually bench. It was a nice day outside, and you were more than happy about being able to finally sit down and enjoy some quiet time, especially with all the children in school at this time. The world wasn’t having it, though, and it apparently wanted you to suffer.

A man sat on your usual bench, arms crossed and facing forwards. The autumn leaves were falling all around him, and part of you begged for your legs to carry you back home. You got closer to the spot and realized that a somewhat familiar face was occupying your space, a familiar man dressed that was dressed in all black.

His eyes met yours like they had days before but there was no reaction this time around. You approached slowly, walking at a pace that seemed more like you were walking down the aisle for a wedding than casually strolling towards an open seat. Your eyes wandered around to the other benches, hoping that there was another one open somewhere nearby. The action proved futile as you witnessed older couples sitting on them, nestling with one another under the golden glow of the morning sun.

There was only one option - sit with him.

You stood before him, almost as if you were a peasant standing before a king. His mere presence felt godlike while yours felt so miniscule. Your grip tightened around the book in your hand, palms sweating from the nerves of confronting this near stranger. His eyes bore into yours and you mentally noted that his eyes were impossibly gorgeous. You couldn’t be quite sure what color they were, but they looked like emeralds in the glare of the sun.

“May I sit here?” You asked politely, pointing to the seat besides him. He didn’t verbally respond, but instead, he gestured to the spot as if he were granting a servant a seat at his table. You felt slightly humiliated yet flustered from the interaction as you sat down.

Silence filled the space between the two of you as soon as you sat down and began reading. There was something in the atmosphere that was saying that you should try to speak to him, but judging by the way he was glaring at every man that walked by the bench, you felt as though speaking to him wasn’t an option. You glanced over from the pages of your book, watching his fingers as they tapped away at his thighs.

“An opportunity,” you thought. He wasn’t holding his book, so maybe he would be open to talking, but as you were about to open your mouth to speak, he beat you to it.

“What is it that you’re reading?” He questioned. For a moment you wondered if he was speaking to you. His voice was like velvet to your ears, and you noted that if his voice were a drink it’d be a smooth bourbon. It’d be masculine yet smooth to the taste, you were so sure of it.

“The Night Shift,” you responded as if it was a title he should have known. His eyebrows furrowed just as they had the other day, and you figured it may have been best to explain further. “It’s by Stephen King.”

“Stephen King.” He spoke, weighing the name of the author on his tongue. “And what is he the king of exactly?”

His question made you laugh, which only earned you a confused glance from the handsome stranger. Stifling your laughter, you raised a hand in apology for the outburst. He nodded in acknowledgment, waiting for you to finish your joyous moment, and for a split second you thought you saw him smile. It wasn’t until you calmed down that you saw that he was, indeed, smiling brilliantly in your direction.

“You smiled,” he spoke again, his eyes wandering to a woman with her child. For a moment, you saw something flash behind them. Sadness, maybe.

The statement made you flinch, the smile disappearing immediately from your face as you felt yourself cowering into the shell you had so readily made for yourself years ago. He turned back to face you, his eyes focusing on yours. Perhaps he wanted to get to know you as you wanted to get to know him, or perhaps he just didn’t have anywhere else to sit when he arrived, but something told you that this encounter may have been fate.

“Whenever you’re here, you seem content,” he continued, eyes still searching yours for an answer to a question he never asked. “But you seem weary all the same. I have never seen you smile.”

He had seen you before; he had just confirmed it. Strangely enough, it didn’t seem as though he had ill intent or obsessive tendencies that just might end with you in a ditch somewhere. No, the raven-haired man seemed sincere.

"It's a pleasant sight," he whispered almost as if you weren't meant to hear it.

You felt yourself smile again, but only a small smile. A sigh escaped your lips, your heart beginning to jump in your chest as you felt a single brick fall from the wall you had painstakingly built around yourself. He smiled, too. And if only for a brief moment, you were glad to have met him.

However, the happiness of encountering “Loki” as he had named himself exactly one week later was quick to deteriorate. Your interactions with the mysterious man continued for days and then weeks. The two of you met for weeks at your bench, bringing new books and stories to share from various parts of your life. The two of you talked for hours underneath the brilliance of the sun’s rays; you talked until the sun itself kissed the horizon, bidding it farewell for the night.

You loved talking to him, and from what you had gathered, he was named after the Norse God of Mischief. He definitely fit the title; in fact, if you weren’t sane for the most part you would have been suspicious that he really was the god who had attempted to take over this very city. You were certain that the real Loki could not possibly be in the city, not with the government still looking for him.

Those thoughts were besides the point, though, especially after the night he was meant to take you out.

At the moment of your slight panic attack, you were flustered over the fact that Loki had requested that you join him for dinner in the evening. For that reason, the two of you did not meet that day even though the sun had shone brightly and there were clouds to admire. Your hands were clawing at your arms as you thought of the endless possibilities in which the night could end, and as much as you wanted to say that a kiss would be the perfect ending, you couldn't let that happen. Even though you repeated the thought that you absolutely did not want to kiss him, your mind rejected it completely simply because you definitely wanted to. Hell, if you didn't have the slight dilemma of causing imminent death after a kiss, you would have done so the moment he told you that he enjoyed your company more than the coworkers he was forced to get on with.

So, it was safe to say that while you had to admit that you were extremely fond of him, it was hard to imagine getting anywhere with a relationship without being able to place your lips on any part of his skin. When you thought thoroughly about it, you decided that you must stop meeting with him once the night was over. If this was a date, or any form of romantic scheme, you could not take part in it. You couldn’t watch another man meet a fate that you had innocently led him to. You would not do that. Not to Loki.

A knock at your door cut through your thoughts like a dagger laced with poison. It was a knock that poisoned your life from that point on, leading you down the abyss you had thought you left behind when you vowed to commit to loneliness. You rushed to find your cell phone that you had just put down seconds before, but as per usual, it was nowhere to be found. The knock sounded again. Huffing, you went to open the door fully expecting to see Loki outside clad in black. The person behind the door was anything but the man you expected; instead, you were faced with a gentleman in a plain suit and a look that told you that he was not there on friendly terms.

“Miss Y/L/N?” He inquired, his chin lifting as he glanced over your shoulder and into the apartment behind you.

“Yes?” You responded, eyes wandering over his outfit, attempting to figure out the nature of his visit. Your attempts proved futile, but that didn’t matter. He was quick to state his business once you had confirmed your identity.

“My name is Detective Francesco, I’m going to need to ask you to come to the station for questions pertaining to a case that has recently opened back up in light of new evidence. Does the name Isaiah Walsh ring a bell to you,” the detective asked, his eyes accusing you of a crime you were only aware you had committed until after the damage was done. You froze in your spot, not sure how to react. Of course, if he hadn't stated his business, you may have thought that he was there to inform you of an accident or a death. This wasn't the case, and those thoughts did not occur to you. Why would they? You were a murderer. Nothing more and nothing less.

Isaiah Walsh - the man who was found dead in his apartment six years ago. A date gone wrong. You simply nodded, not bothering to answer the question in case it would make the detective even more suspicious of you. “Let me grab my things.”

“That won’t be necessary.”

It was clear as the words left his mouth that it was more than just questioning. You were a suspect, not a witness, to the crime he was investigating. As the detective led you down to his car, you noticed a man with raven-colored hair approaching the building with a bouquet of your favorite flowers. The flashing of the police car’s lights illuminated his lean figure as an officer opened the back of his vehicle to you.

Loki’s eyes met yours as he scanned over the scene in front of him. The bouquet fell to the ground, the smirk on his lips vanishing, as he witnessed you sit in the back of the car while a small crowd began to gather at the sight of someone they barely knew getting an all too noticeable escort.

***

You were sitting at a metal table with one of the big mirrors you see on TV. A typical interrogation room from what you could conjure from all the crime show reruns you had indulged in. Your hands folded in your lap as the detective sifted through a file on the table. Part of you wondered why he was taking so long to ask you any questions, but another part of you hoped he never would. Pictures fell from the file as he stood from his seat and your heart dropped to your stomach. It was a pixelated shot of Isaiah with his arm around a young woman at a popular bar just down the road from his apartment. The faces were blurred from the low quality image, but you knew just by seeing the time on the corner along with the date that the woman was you six years ago.

"Look familiar?" Detective Francesco questioned, watching your expression for any significant clue.

You nodded your head, knowing that full cooperation was probably for the best, "I was on a date."

The detective narrowed his eyes, sighing before opening the file again. Within a few seconds, four more security camera shots joined the first on the table. Each one showed the face of a different man with you by their side.

"For months," he began speaking again, "I was wondering why these men were chosen as the Angel's victims, and I couldn't figure it out until one year ago when I realized that the only common factor was you. You were the last person to see any of these men alive: why? Tell me, Miss Y/L/N, do you even remember these men?"

His voice was seething with spite. Your stomach churned and shivers ran down your spine at the look of determination on his face. You glanced down at your wrists, wondering if this was to be the last time you'd see them without steel cuffs on. The detective sat back down, pulling picture after picture from a folder of names you would have rather forgotten; yet, here you were, wearing their deaths as a tattoo on your soul - an imprint of the horrible monster you had somehow turned out to be.

"What about these men?" Detective Francesco pointed out to more photos of gentlemen that you had met at one point in your life. "This one was your high school boyfriend if my sources are correct, and this one," his finger tapped on an all too familiar photo of a face that haunted your dreams, "your own father."

Tears burned at your eyes. Over the years you had accepted many things, but the death of your father was never one. After just one glance at the photo, you found yourself unsure if you had the strength to look the detective in the face anymore.

"I'd like to speak to my lawyer," you mumbled, knowing that this was an uphill fight that you may or may not win. In fact, part of you hoped that you didn't win just so that the demons that crawled into bed with you at night, whispering damning words in your ears and flooding your subconscious with nothing but nightmares, would finally allow you to sleep in peace.

The detective nodded, eyes blazing with a victory he had waited far too long for. There were no fingerprints, no poison, nothing. Just your presence and the men's deaths. Even without substantial evidence against you, this was a start.

"We'll be in touch. You're free to go, but ma'am?"

You met his wicked gaze as you stood from your seat, "Yes?"

"Don't leave the city."

(Chapter 2)

#loki #loki laufeyson #the avengers #loki imagine #loki imagines #loki x reader #loki x you #loki laufeyson imagine #loki odinson #ohdearhiddles imagine #ohdearhiddles imagines #mutant!reader #mutant powers

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curiousconch · 4 years ago

Text

Gravity

Chapter 5 of Ricochet (An Open Heart AU)

Catch up here: Series Masterlist

Chapter Synopsis: As Heather struggles to decide how to move forward, she and Bryce gets embroiled in a night full of revelations.

Pairing: Rafael Aveiro x MC (Dr. Heather Song) | Bryce Lahela x MC (Dr. Heather Song)

Words: 2.7k+ | Genre: Crime, Mystery, Thriller, Romance

Rating/Warnings: Mature (16+) / language and a bucket heap of angst (maybe more)

Author’s Notes: I will expect some hate towards all the drama, but a love triangle is always a complex subject to deal with. In reality, navigating through it does not spare any of the hearts being broken at some point or another, because of the level of humanity that gets exposed when love isn’t returned. I know that firsthand.So this chapter is somewhat taken from that very real experience. But I promise, there’s purpose at the end 🌈🙂

This was inspired by IMHO, one of the angstyiest songs ever produced in the face of the earth - Gravity by Sara Bareilles. Also, disclaimer: majority of the characters are owned by Pixelberry, except the main character Heather Song and an OC villain Jordan Anderson.

Thanks for taking the time to share and read this ❤ BTW, are you Team Bryce or Team Rafael? Let me know in your reblogs!

Rafael tucked his cold hands inside the pockets of his jacket as he kicked a random rock from the sidewalk. He badly wanted to sleep, but he can't. He can't stop thinking about what he's done to Heather, and about how he much he hurt her.

He can't stand staying in his apartment due to the memories that flooded each corner, couldn't even bear to clean up the pieces of shattered glass from that night. So that cold night, he decided to sulk in the middle of the crowd. At least, he wouldn't be alone.

He arrived at Donahues, and nodded to a few regular patrons as he approached the bar. He asked Reggie for a bottle of beer, and settled himself on one of the stools.

As he was about to take a sip, he heard a voice nearby. He could single out that voice anywhere, so his eyes immediately darted towards the direction of a nearby booth. Once he found who he was looking for his gut twisted in knots. He knew that silhouette like the back of his hand.

There she was, leaning on an old jukebox, a glass of cocktail in hand. His heart jumped inside his rib cage, excitement at the sight of her flooding in. He twisted himself to stand, but abruptly stopped as he saw a tall figure approach her.

Even in the dim light, she saw her brilliant smile as she looked up at the guy. He instantly felt like an idiot all over again.

A fast-paced song flooded through the speakers. He saw Bryce offer a hand to her, which she happily took. Rafael saw them dance to the beat, laughter filling the gaps in between. He noticed a new spring in Heather's step, taking him back to the first time he brought her home to his grandmother. It was the same night when he taught her how to dance samba, with only the moon and the dim street lights illuminating their movements. The very night he decided to pursue Heather - the only woman who embraced him at the time when all he could offer was himself, a woman whom at first he thought as entirely out of his league.

All of those fading memories suddenly returned in full color, now when that same woman is dancing with anyone but him. Now it wasn't his hands holding her, it wasn't him who's making her laugh, it was no longer him who made her smile. Instead, he became the cause of her pain.

He looked away, the idea of Heather being with someone else becoming more unbearable by the second. He leaned heavily on the bar and chugged the rest of his beer, before asking for another bottle. He covered his face with the palms of his hands, as the pain of his guilt pricked him inside like a fresh wound.

When the tune ended, he looked back at Heather and didn't immediately find her.

"Rafael?" he stopped as he recognized who just said his name. He wanted to ignore her. But deep down all he wanted was to make amends and be hers again. So despite his shame, he turned to face the music.

"Heather," he straightened himself up, sobering when he saw the shine in her eyes. "How are you?"

"I'm doing fine," her icy tone was like salt to his open scar.

"Can we talk?"

"Why, so you could come up with another of your lame excuses?" she leaned away from him as she ordered a round of shots.

"I deserved that," Rafael rubbed the back of his neck. He stepped closer, fixated in trying not to touch her. "Heather, please, just this once."

"Okay," Heather said before she even had the time to think. She couldn’t help herself, she was still drawn to him, and she cursed herself for it. One moment with him seemed to decimate all of her fragile strength. "Let me just bring this over to the guys and then I'll meet you outside," she turned before walking away, "but you get only 10 minutes, then we're done."

“That’s more than enough for me,” he nodded. He trailed her with his eyes before he went outside, finding an empty table in the back garden.

Heather handed out the shots among Jackie, Aurora, Sienna, Elijah and Bryce while she explained the situation. Bryce almost choked halfway through his tequila when she mentioned Rafael. It was as if a bucket of cold water just washed over him. He made an effort to keep his cool, while he internally battled with his desire to stop her from going back to him.

Heather was able to make a read on Bryce’s sudden silence though. He was full of life just a few minutes ago, when he twirled her around as they danced together. She was almost certain that he wanted to interject, but chose not to interfere.

“You really wanna do this?” Aurora broke the quiet that fell upon their booth.

”I don’t know if it’s the best thing for me,” Heather replied, ruffling her bangs. “Maybe? I think I just owe it to myself to hear him out.”

“Well if it helps you both in the long run, I say you should go,” Sienna said as she offered a comforting squeeze on Heather’s arm.

Her best friend as usual, was right. She needed to hear what Raf had to say, regardless of how they both move forward. That was all the encouragement Heather needed. She then tipped off one shot - slightly relying on the liquid courage to help her get this over with. Although there was something that seemed to anchor her on the ground, she went to find Rafael anyway.

Bryce followed her with his eyes, hoping against hope that by the end of the night he wouldn’t have to let her go again.

”Hey,” Heather sat down opposite Rafael in a corner table.

He watched her without speaking, unable to find his voice for a few moments. His chest felt heavy, conscious of the fact that the odds were stacked against him. Yet, he held onto hope, not wanting to give up so easily.

“You wanted to talk, so, talk,” she crossed her arms, and tried to put up a brave front.

He cleared his throat, delaying his response as he tried to compose a coherent offer to convince her take him back. When he found the right words in his mind, he began to speak.

"I'm not going to justify what I did, Heather. It was incredibly wrong of me to betray you and to have caused your hurt," he shifted a little, leaning closer to her, and tried reaching out for her hand. Seeing that she did not flinch, he continued.

"I can never take back what I did, and the damage I've done. But if I have to spend the rest of my life asking for your forgiveness and trying to make this work between us, I will do everything in my power to do that, meu amor," he reached out and took her hand in his. "I simply can't stand to not be with you, I love you so, so much. I still do. So if you still want this, if you still want us, I'm asking you to take me back."

Heather felt her bravado begin to dissolve with his touch. Oh how she missed the calloused hands with which he caressed her, every cell in her body seemed to betray her. She sighed deeply, blinking back the tears that threatened to fall. In her heart, she wanted nothing else but to forget everything and move on. But at this point, she wasn't sure if she wanted to do that with him.

"I-I don't know, Raf," she stuttered, her eyes beginning to shimmer. It hurt that she couldn't just say yes to him again. "I know I'll be able to forgive you someday, Raf. But I'm not sure if I can choose to stay with you, for what you've done..." she concluded.

She didn't know. At least not now. That's what he heard her say. Even if there's a slight chance of her being able to forgive him, and to take him back, he'd gladly accept it.

"You don't have to answer now," he said. "Take all the time you need to think about it. I promise I won't bother you until you're already decided," he spoke gently.

"Thanks, Raf. I'll think about it." And with that, she excused herself and went back inside. She went directly to the restrooms, her head spinning. She slumped herself on a nearby wall, inhaling air deeply as if she was drowning. She felt her chest thump with her rapidly beating heart, exhausted with the encounter.

After several minutes, she composed herself and went back out, moving towards the direction of their booth. Her friends asked how it went, so she shared the general gist of it. They all agreed that it made sense, pitching in each of their own thoughts. Heather tried to listen to them, but she was distracted.

Bryce's disposition faltered a little. She noticed that something changed, leaving her bothered. She knew that there’s a reason behind the diminished sarcasm in his voice, as well as in his almost-muted cockiness. She tried to justify to herself that he probably had something to deal with at work, but couldn't completely convince herself. She didn't want to let herself swim in her own assumptions, unless until everything with Raf was settled. So she chose not to prod.

It wasn't long that they all decided to call it a night. They both walked towards his car and got in without a word to each other. She noticed that he barely even looked at her. The rest of the ride back to the condo was spent with her fidgeting with her phone, the awkward quiet gradually swallowing her whole.

When they entered the hallway, Heather couldn't hold it in anymore. She wanted answers.

"Hey Lahela, what happened there?" she asked.

With his back facing her, she couldn't see his reaction.

Bryce was stumped in place, unable to take another step forward. Damn it, reading me like an open book as always. The swirling emotions in his chest threatened to loose control. He shut his eyes closed for a few seconds, willing them away to no avail. So with clenched fists, he turned around and stared at the woman who captured his heart and threatened to unknowingly rip it apart.

"You're a smart ass woman, Heath, try to figure it out."

Heather's mouth went ajar, unsure how to process his response. "I don't know if I should take that as a compliment or as an insult, Lahela."

Bryce forced himself to walk forward, leading his steps to the liquor cabinet in the kitchen. He poured himself a glass of Jack Daniels, downing it all in one gulp.

"What's gotten into you now? Just this afternoon you gave a freaking speech about bouncing back and yada yada yada, now you're insulting me?" Heather was flustered and beyond infuriated as she followed him to the kitchen.

"I don't have to explain anything to you, not now, Heath." He poured another helping of the strong liquid, hoping it was enough to push down the rising anger within him.

Heather was hell bent in getting to the bottom of it tonight. If there was anything she valued in her life, it was honesty. And when she wants it from anyone, she won't back down.

"Yes, you do. You know fucking well that you need some explaining to do. I'm done beating around the bush with you, I'm done being in the receiving end of veiled threats, betrayals, or hidden truths. I'm not taking that crap from the one person whom I can rely on to not screw me around with lies," she pounded her fist on the wooden surface of the table separating them. "So for the last goddamn time, I'm going to ask, what the hell happened with you tonight?"

He replied by setting down his glass, the force with which he set it down cracking its bottom. All the pent up frustration within him was now manifesting unrestrained.

"Fine, you want to know what's the deal with me? You. It's you, dammit," he finally said without shame, like a contrite man in confession, his hands waving in the air.

Fuck it, I'm doing this. Friendships be damned.

"I never liked commitments in relationships because, I wanted to stay suspended in midair, always on a high," he paused, sucking in a deep breath. "For me, all that romantic crap only meant being pulled back by gravity, it's all just a whole gigantic crash and burn. Ever heard of my mother?" The mention of his own mother's selfish act still stung him to the core. "But every single time I see you, I'm more than willing to crash down to the ground for you. It's because I want you, you idiot. I wanted you ever since I met you. I wanted you so fucking much that I hid it because I wanted to stay in your life, even as only a friend."

There I said it. Bryce no longer felt suffocated, lighter, like a heavy boulder was lifted from his chest.

He watched Heather who was stunned into silence, as he tried to catch his breath. He attempted to translate the expression that suddenly filled her hazel eyes. He sighed in relief when he noticed it soften, as she began to speak.

"A little too late, Lahela," her voice was small, and her smile seem to be filled with sadness.

Bryce's eyes widened in shock, as the meaning of those five words dawned on him.

"You didn't just assume that I opened up to every man that showed interest, didn't you?" she laughed bitterly, sitting down while her knees buckled with regret. "I waited for you to make a move, Bryce. But you never did. So I thought you weren't interested. Then Raf happened."

He couldn't find his voice, confounded with what Heather was trying to tell him.

"When Rafael and I first met, I thought of his as a close friend. It wasn't love at first sight, it was a more of a slow burn. A gentle, uncomplicated but stable romance," she paused, raising her head to look him in the eyes. "But he was man enough to own up to his feelings, Bryce. He was man enough not to hold back," he watched as she bit her lip, struggling not to shiver himself. "But most of all, he didn't quit. Not like you who bailed himself out too early, too afraid to get hurt."

He took a step forward, wanting nothing but to hold her and kiss her. His confused emotions held him hostage to the spot where he was standing.

"I'm not some clueless bitch you think I am. I had an idea, but you were too busy hitting on every woman in front of me that I never thought you'd get serious with someone," she paused, her voice filled with rue and remorse. "For the so-called golden boy of Boston's DA office, you're one hell of a wimp," she rose from the table and walked away, leaving Bryce alone and regretful more than ever.

***

Bryce spent the next morning in an empty apartment. He heard Heather move around and leave at dawn to catch her early morning flight to Baltimore. But he didn't have it in him to face her. At least not yet.

Gathering the will to pull himself up from his bed, he prepared for another day at work. He mindlessly went through his routine as he processed the events of last night. He finally admitted his feelings to her, but she trampled with it with her own revelation.

Her words echoed repeatedly in his head, and he sunk within himself a little more. I waited for you to make a move, but you never did. He hated that she was right, that he was just some egotistic, self-absorbed coward who missed a hell of a shot with her. He also hated being helplessly powerless to do anything about it, her being more than 400 miles away from him.

So he instead made himself busy - preparing drafts and evidence for the various cases that was about to go to court soon.

The day was almost done when his phone began to ring incessantly. He ignored it at first, but it rang and rang until there was no the point to refuse to answer it. Sienna's name popped up on the caller ID. He sensed that something was wrong.

"Sienna?"

On the line, Bryce could hear the rising panic in her voice.

"Johns Hopkins just called Dr. Ramsey. Heather didn't show up in the research facility today. Did she chose to stay back at your place? Bryce, please tell me you know where she is?"

Tag list - @choicesficwriterscreations for Fics of the Week

Ricochet AU tags - @eleanorbloom @ramsey-lahela

#open heart #open heart 2 #open heart au #rafael aveiro #bryce lahela #choices #choices fanfiction #rafael aveiro x mc #open heart fanfiction #bryce lahela x mc #rafael x mc #bryce x mc #pixelberry #choices fic writers creations #play choices #fics of the week

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